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#gotta love gay horses
melon-soda · 1 year
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<3
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moe-broey · 2 months
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And in all of this time after all these years 630+ hours played. I never even got Francine's photo when she's my fave of all time 🙄🙄🙄🙄 WHATEVER.
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abluescarfonwaston · 2 years
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I think Edgeworth should see the reboot of the Steel Samurai where the Magistrate and the Samurai come together at the end and kiss and get there happy ever after and sit in uncomprehending calm as Maya screams and cheers next to him. It is the first piece of happy ending queer media he has consumed with his whole heart. Years of internalized homophobia and Manfred, (as well as the death of Neil Marshall, his fiance) taught him that happy endings were not for people like him.
But now, now he sees they are. Stands up and goes to Wright at 930 at night and requests a date immediately. Or... The earliest convenience. Because he has decided he is done being miserable. He would like to be happy and loved and all the things the world told him he could not be because of who he was.
The man makes a list of everything he wanted to try, or has been told to try and didn’t.
He tours the coast with Maya trying out tea and ramen shops. Takes a comedy class (that he drops after the first day) with Larry. Enrolls in a tango class with Wright. (who immediately hurts his back and Lang is called in to replace him after soothing a bout of worry/jealousy for Wright) He calls Gumshoe up and they go to a shelter and pick him up a dog. Raymond and Sebastian help him collect and frame dozens of pictures to decorate his apartment. Kay takes him around an amusement park and rafting and one evening they quietly hold hands and visit their father’s graves together.
He also enrolls in therapy because “Many people have told me i should try it over the years.” (Yeah i don’t think they probably phrased it that way Miles)
He gets better. Turns out taking daily walks in the sun with Pess and vacations with Wright and hiring a few extra hands around the office Drastically improves his quality of life. Especially once the medications start working.
It’s not all good. There are days he curls up on the floor, overwhelmed by guilt. Guilt that he waited all this time to do this. Guilt that he feels happy. Guilt that he Doesn’t feel happy after deciding to be better. And Wright comes and offers him a hug. Which doesn’t fix the problem but takes a little of the weight off his shoulders for a moment. He updates the list. More hugs.
Sits in front of a camera. There is a banner behind him that says ‘its gets better’ that he is trying very hard to not say looks tacky. Adjusts his wedding ring and mentally rehearses his speech. About how:
“At age nine my father was killed in front of me and i thought the world had ended. I didn’t sleep soundly again until I was 25.” About how, “At 16 I thought i wouldn’t make it to 17 because I’d failed an exam and I thought my guardian was going to murder me. And I thought if he did, that would have been fair. And at 22 my fiance was murdered and we had kept it so secret that I wasn’t invited to his funeral and I swore off love forever.”
“And when I was 24 I attempted suicide because I believed with absolute certainty that I had ruined and wasted my entire life and could imagine no future where I was happy and deserved to be so. Happy endings do not belong to people like me.”
“And now I am 36 and married. Quite happily. So I hope you will believe me when I say that your life is not over. It need not be. You have not ‘missed your chance’ and you are never too old to start feeling better. It does... Get better.
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dusty-micah · 1 year
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Tumblr is so interesting. Just post something a depressed gay agrees with. Then they signal out a call and bam like 1000 notes.
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laundrybiscuits · 11 months
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“I need your help to find Robin a girlfriend,” says Steve.
Eddie shuts the door in his face.
“You know I’m not gonna just leave, man!” Steve hollers through the door. “Come on, let me in, we gotta, like—strategize.”
“No!” Eddie yells back, loud as he can. “Fuck off!”
Gratifyingly, he hears Steve stumble a little. It’s not a thick door, and Steve must’ve been right up next to it.
“Don’t you want Robin to be happy?” says Steve, at a much more normal volume. “She thinks you guys are pretty close, you know.”
Now that’s just dirty pool. Sure, it turns out he and Robin get along pretty well; sure, they’ve been thick as thieves ever since Robin inquired in a rambling roundabout way if certain rumors were true, and Eddie allowed as to how they might be. So what? Not like it means Eddie has to let himself be suckered into whatever hare-brained scheme Harrington’s cooked up now.
He tells himself all of this, then sighs and opens the door anyway. 
“Okay, Harrington, come in and explain so I can tell you why this is a bad idea in excruciating detail.”
Steve smirks all smug and insufferable, and pushes past Eddie to sprawl on the couch.
“So, you know how the Vickie thing ended, right?”
Eddie shrugs. He kind of does, but he’s pretty sure he missed some things. He’s never gotten the full run-down or anything like that, he’s just rubbed Robin’s back as she got spectacularly drunk about it and puked in a bush.
“Anyway, it’s been like three months, and Robin’s still moping. She’s gotta put herself out there again, like getting back on a horse.”
“Bet she loved you telling her that,” says Eddie.
“Exactly, so, we should team up and do some of the legwork before I bring it up again. Set her up for success. I’ve got the charm, and you’ve got…” Steve gestures vaguely in Eddie’s general direction.
“A killer music collection? Impeccable personal style? Terrible taste in friends?”
“No, man, you’re—I mean, you’re gay, right?” Steve looks suddenly uncertain. It’s not like it’s a secret, obviously, but they haven’t talked about it in so many words before. 
“Yeah, more or less,” says Eddie. It’s not like he’s never ever seen the appeal of any woman, but—yeah, more or less. Close enough for government work. 
Steve claps his hands together decisively, like some kind of dorky Little League coach. “Great! Great, that’s perfect. So I can help Robin with the whole flirting-with-girls thing, and you can handle the gay stuff.”
Eddie bats his eyelashes and grins like the compulsively self-sabotaging dumbass he is. “Well, usually I make pretty boys buy me a drink before I handle any of their gay stuff.”
Steve Harrington, the little shit, isn’t phased at all. “You saying I’m not pretty enough for you, Eddie?” he drawls, leaning back and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. 
Eddie wonders if he can get away with lying down on the floor for a minute to recover. He probably can’t, so he just takes the psychic damage and swerves back to his main point.
“Look, Harrington, I think we should just let Buck find her own way. Be free, spread her wings, et cetera.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, uh-huh. If we do that, she’s gonna turn into some kind of weird hermit and never talk to another girl in her life. We’re on her team, right? We gotta get her confidence up so she can ride into the sunset with the babe of her dreams.” 
Eddie drags his hands down his face, wishing desperately that Steve were just a tiny bit less…whatever this is, so his goddamn heart could maybe catch a break. 
“I could really use a hand here, Eddie,” Steve says. He frowns a little, pressing his lips together and glancing away. “I know there’s stuff I don’t…I just don’t want to screw this up for Robin, okay? She deserves to be happy, but I need you to make sure I don’t do anything too dumb.”
“Think that one might be a lost cause,” says Eddie, but he collapses onto the couch with a resigned sigh. “Just—talk me through what you’ve got, okay?”
Steve lights up, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and shaking him a little, pulling him tight against Steve’s side. “Yes! Okay! Let’s do this!”
This is going to be a test of fortitude, but at least Eddie’s pretty sure it’ll all be over soon. How long can it possibly take to find a girlfriend for Robin Buckley?
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Of course asking people which monster they find more fuckable is a good way to get them to say funny things, so I got a lot of funny comments on the Most Fuckable Monster in the Dungeon Tournament. So as usual, I compiled a list of the ones I liked best, ordered by the poll they were commented on. Enjoy!
Barometz vs Dryad (round 1 part 1)
dryad boobs in my mouth please please please you're nothing
Man-eating plant vs Mandrake (round 1 part 1)
getting my dick digested by a pitcher plant
its what laios would have wanted
Skeleton vs Dullahan (round 1 part 1)
why is the armor sweeping?? how are ya'll planning to fuck the armor??? at least the skeleton you could like wedge a vibrator or fleshlight into the pelvis. I forgot this is the celibacy site and fucking is not a real physical thing on here
fools do not see the eroticisim of plate armor
Phoenix vs Harpy (round 1 part 2)
harpy has a tits out kinda look
Griffin vs Hippogriff (round 1 part 2)
Me at first: really? You’d fuck the horse? Me, remembering the barded penises of felines : no wait you’re right
White dragon vs Red dragon (round 1 part 3)
It's canon that white dragons fight furiously while red dragon is the equivalent of that blue hands dinosaur in Prehistoric Planet
white dragon is cuntier somehow
Treasure insects vs Succubus (round 1 part 3)
another tits out kinda look
normal poll matchup. normal poll. do people want to fuck a succubus or inch long insects. who will win
Huge scorpion vs Huge spider vs Mimic (round 1 part 3)
What you do to the mimic is hidden from the eyes of all
The mimics got that dog in it
dark souls mimic resemblances have me thinking unwise
something about the mysterious air around the mimic
Golem vs Ice golem (round 1 part 4)
Same deal but one freezes ur junk off I think the winner is clear
Gargoyle vs Hag (round 1 part 4)
..abusive mother kink????
Familiar vs Jack Frost (round 1 part 4)
familiar is customizable 👍
Doppelganger vs Demon (round 1 part 4)
That stupid sexy cat simply slays too much cunt
Hippogriff vs Fish-man (round 2 part 1)
no offense to my buddy fish-man but that hippogriff is too majestic
Living armour vs Undine (round 2 part 2)
One if the extras has a really perturving bit: Undines fed by consuming liquids with mana. Holm mentions regularly feeding it BODILY FLUIDS.
is wearing living armor anything
White dragon vs Green dragon (round 3)
she made that dragon sooooo cunty and for what
Cockatrice vs Demon (round 3)
you should've put the slutiest picture of the demon. to remind everyone that ryoko -sensei is down BAD
no one: ryoko kui: i am going to make a lion demon that is SOOOOOOO [redacted]
everybody vote for demon! a vote for demon is a love letter to Ryoko Kui
I do find it funny we're blowing the demon whore moments on like, the cockatrice matchup
This manga is so slutty and yet so tasteful in it that you can't really call it anything but great in every aspect of its eroticism
Mermaid vs Harpy (quarter finals)
i am so mad rn. a mermaid !? more fuckable than a harpy!? for shame tumblr for shame
White dragon vs Succubus (quarter finals)
Dragon fluffye!
Chimera vs Mermaid (semi-finals)
sorry mermaid. falin fucks supremely.
sorry falin. gotta stand up for my fellow merfolk here
a vote for chimera is a vote for lesbians
Succubus vs Demon (semi-finals)
Not even the sucubbi stands up to the limitless demon sexo
if you think about it. the succubus can turn into the demon's many forms
Chimera vs Demon (finale)
fags and dykes fighting to the death over this one
Listen man. Even if I'm gay I understand why Falin is winning but- Consider that the demon knows your exact wants and desires and could satisfy your sexual needs perfectly. Also when he's buff and humanoid near the end
either of them deserve to win but demon sweep because that fucker showed up in a dream to me once
teef!!!!
VOTE FOR DYKES. VOTE FOR SLEEPY GIRLS. VOTE FOR SHARP LITTLE TEETH
Mermaid vs Succubus (battle for the bronze)
mermaids can't lose to magical mosquito people PLEASE
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seventeenpins · 8 months
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violet pairing: older qz!joel x f!reader
word count: 5.8k
summary: follow-up to forget-me-not. it's been seven years since you last saw joel in the boston qz, and a lot has changed. you find yourselves reunited in jackson.
warnings: smut, actually contains a lot of plot (sorry), tommy, maria & ellie all exist, allusions to/discussion of abortion, reader has a kid, joel is insecure about being an old man (you're only 63, it's ok buddy), reader is mid-thirties to early 40s, lil bit of daddy kink, face sitting, multiple orgasms.
a/n: okay first -- header or no header? like, it's a bit ridiculous but i also kinda love it? instead of packing up for a move, i've been writing this 🤷 thanks for all the continued love on my fics, it's so sweet and means a whole lot. working on a few other stories, and i hope to have more out soon!
this chapter is dedicated to the dumbass at the club who didn't quite manage to ruin a first date i was on by asking us what we thought about gay rights (as two fem-perceived folks caught smoochin) and then telling us "you're clearly so in love, i respect that" before yeeting off in the moonlight.
you could have sworn the terrain had been totally empty only moments before, but now in the blink of an eye, you’re surrounded by a small group of riders, armed, their horses huffing down at you. 
“shit,” you gasp, trying to shield your girl, but realising there was little use. can’t put your body in front of hers when there’s people on every side of you. instead, your hands grip tighter on the shoulders of your daughter and you take a breath, trying to steady your breathing.
“you been near infected?” a man calls down at you, and his accent reminds you of joel, so much so that your heart flutters for a moment at the memory. you’ve met lots of people on your travels, a few of them from austin, too, and every time you think of him.
“no,” you call back, “last we saw them was back in the dakotas and there weren’t many there. that was weeks ago, haven’t encountered any since.”
the man nods, and you’re not sure what he’s thinking under his stetson, but the fact you’re not shot yet seems like a good sign. hopefully.
"frankly, we've had much more trouble from people than from infected on our way. but we've been able to take care of ourselves," you say, and you're hoping your words have an underlying edge of danger, but you're pretty sure you just come off as scared and defensive.
the man nods, and looks you up and down. “well, we've gotta make sure,” he says, almost apologetic, and you tense. it takes a moment before you see the dog, but then a dark blur comes bounding towards you, snarling. You tense and pull your girl close, but after a few moments of incredibly stressful sniffing, the dog leaves you alone and trods back to his owner, panting happily.
“good,” the man says, “now we've got that cleared up, what’s your business here?”
it's a good fuckin question, but not one you have a direct answer to.
"we came from boston," you tell him, "it was okay for a while, but the qz changed--got worse. more bombings. more hangings. if it was just me i might have stayed put, but i have my daughter."
there's so much you could say, but you're pretty sure you're advocating for your own life right now, so you keep it short and simple.
"we're just trying to find... somewhere better. travelling through all the places i've ever known people, to see if there's somewhere safe out there at all."
he nods, and the group surrounding you seems to back down a little.
"come with us. i think we might have what you're looking for," he tells you, and then one rider jumps down from their horse, mounts another, and the first man helps you and your daughter onto the vacated horse.
you follow the group, cantering along, and the man keeps an eye on you, and a woman in the group rides up next to you.
"so, you're from the boston qz? that's quite a journey," the man says, and nods his head towards the young woman, "she and i both travelled here from boston, years ago. i left back in, oof, '13? remind me, when did you leave?"
the woman nods, "left when i was fourteen, in '23."
"oh wow," you say, "i honestly didn't expect to meet anyone from boston round here"
there's a pause.
"what did you say your name was?" he asks, and you tell him.
"and this is violet," you say, giving your daughter's shoulder a squeeze, and she nestles back into your chest, ever shy around strangers.
"nice to meet you both," the woman grins, "i'm ellie"
"and i'm tommy," the man says. you're sure it's just a weird coincidence, a common name, just cos he happens to share the same name as joel's brother it doesn't mean anything, but you can't help but ask-
"this is probably silly, but you're not tommy miller are you?"
both tommy and ellie halt, so you do to, as they communicate something through quick glances and furrowed brows.
"wait," you say, "are you? tommy miller?"
he stares you down, and all of a sudden, you see it in his eyes. joel's eyes. violet's eyes.
"i-" your heart is pounding now with the realisation, "i knew your brother. i knew joel. he was a-" you hesitate for only a split second, "friend."
"well shit," tommy says. he caught the hesitation when you landed on friend, and he's looking at you, brows furrowed. "when was the last time you saw him?"
you shrug. "guess it was seven years ago." you look at your daughter, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and then back up at tommy. "it was when he'd stopped hearing from you, actually. he came out to find you. did... did he find you?"
tommy doesn't answer, his eyes widening, and you can see him put the pieces together as he looks at you and then at your daughter, to you, and to her again.
"how old did you say she was?" he nods at violet but keeps his gaze fixed on you.
"i didn't."
"humor me."
"she's six."
"huh," he says, and ellie's looking between you two now and you can see realisation dawning on her, too.
"wait a second--holy shit," ellie cackles, "joel's gonna lose his fuckin' mind."
a sudden flare of panic and excitement floods through you. "wait, you know him too? he's nearby? i'm sorry- he lives around here? he made it?"
ellie snorts and tommy lets out a noise that's almost like a cross between a deep exhale and a strangled moan.
"yep, he lives in town. made it here with ellie a few years back. been living here a while now."
you don't know if you're thrilled or terrified. to be honest, your brain suddenly feels like it's filled to the brim with bees that were muffling out any thought more complex than AAAAHHHHHHHH.. you'd always hoped you might see joel again, but it wasn't till now you realised you never really believed you would.
he's alive. he actually made it.
as if sensing your racing thoughts, tommy pulls up beside you and claps a strong hand on your shoulder.
"one step at a time, sweetheart. seems like y'all have a whole lotta catchin' up to do."
after you're brought through the gate and finish up at the dining hall for a bite to eat, tommy and ellie take you both on a tour of jackson. you'd seen lots of things in the time you'd travelled, but this is the first real community you'd seen. it made you think of the old days, or rather, your ideas of the old days. you were too young when the world ended, but the idea of people living together and supporting one another without bombs going off on street corners and scheduled hangings was something else.
"we've been workin' on makin' a functioning society here. we get energy from the dam, so actual, non-fedra electricity." tommy points along the main street at the street lighting (actual street lighting!!)
"most of the shops are along here," he continues, pointing out each place as he lists them off, "necessities, like a cobbler and a tailor over in that space. greenhouses and farms over in that direction as well as a clinic. we've got a bar, a couple o' bakeries, house of worship, stables back that way- couple fellas opening a barbershop in that space over there pretty soon. and, of course, the residential area just down here. we've got a lotta houses, and we're working on refurbishing a whole lot, too. most families have their own homes. you're welcome to take some time to decide if you would like to stay here, but y'all seem like decent people and at the very least, we can put you up in some of our temporary housing 'til we have a better grasp on what you need. we got families of all configurations here. we did that a whole lot better after the world ended. and this is a home for a lotta people."
"oh-!" ellie says, suddenly excited, "and the school's over there, if you guys wanna stay. fedra school fucking sucked but this one was actually pretty cool. we actually got to learn stuff!"
violet giggles a little, and ellie shoots her a bright smile that makes her giggle little more. it feels safe here. you don't remember the last time things have felt safe. you're trying to take it all in, memorise every storefront, every person, every moment, when the aroma of fresh-baked pastries suddenly assaults your nostrils and you let out an involuntary moan.
"been a while, huh?" ellie asks and snorts, and you nod. "i grew up in the qz so i never had one of these till the shop opened up a couple years ago. but i hear it's just like the old days!"
"mama, it smells really good," violet says, and it's the first thing she's said since you've come through the gates.
"it does, doesn't it?" you ask her, "and look at all these shops. see those clothes in the window there?"
her eyes are as wide as saucers, and you're so overwhelmed with joy that she gets to experience this that you don't notice ellie bounding up the steps to the bakery and running back a minute later with a paper wrapped something in hand.
she holds it out to you and you take it from her gingerly. you kneel down to let violet unwrap the paper and inside is a perfect strawberry danish. you're stunned.
"that's cream cheese and butter from our cows," tommy tells you, "strawberries and wheat grown here, too. all fresh. all cordyceps free. we don't risk using any of the old stuff that might be contaminated"
that's amazing. that's fucking amazing.
"here, baby," you tear off a piece for violet, and she clutches it carefully and sniffs at it warily before popping it into her mouth, chewing with furrowed brows, and breaking out into a grin.
"welcome to jackson," ellie says, and now you're laughing too.
by the evening, tommy's given you a tour of the whole settlement and left you, ellie, and violet at the tipsy bison with an invitation to join him and his family for dinner. there was a strong likelihood that joel would be there and you were shitting bricks.
what if he's totally different from how you remember him? what if he isn't?
what if he wants nothing to do with you? what if he wants nothing to do with violet?
what if he's forgotten you?
you pinch yourself to pull out of your spiral. ellie winks at violet, who's sipping at her juice, and clinks her glass against yours. together, you take large swigs of your beer.
she tells you a bit about herself. she's vague about how she and joel met, and you're not sure if it's because she doesn't want to talk about it or if she's trying to spare the gory details around violet, but she speaks of him fondly and blushed a little when she mentioned i've kinda become, like, a surrogate daughter to him. and he's my old man.
before you could gather your thoughts and ask any follow-ups, she's already blowing through different topics, grinning as she tells you about her girlfriend, about her tattoo and how she wants another one, about her favorite horse, and the way patrols worked around here, and you relax into the conversation. into the peace. into taking a break.
before you know it, the three of you are walking towards tommy's house and right as you're about to knock at the door, ellie barrels past and swings the door open with a bellowed "we're here!" reverberating off the walls.
as you step through the door, delicious food smells waft through the hallway and you hear laughter and music coming from the kitchen. ellie makes a beeline through the door on your right and you take it all in for a moment.
"you coming?" ellie calls, and you follow her.
and stop dead in your tracks.
illuminated in the light of an antique shaded lamp, sat on a rocking chair, was joel.
he's greyer and more tired, but he also looks- happy? and he's got reading glasses on as he peers at what looks to be a picture book as he points out the illustrations to the kid on his lap. your jaw drops.
the kid's probably around the same age as violet.
ellie is stood in the corner of the room, half-heartedly pretending to examine a bookshelf while she blatantly eavesdrops.
joel looks up and smiles in a way that you've only seen a few times before. it's... unguarded. he extends a hand, "hi there, you must be our guests, i'm jo-"
and then recognition flickers over his face and he stops. stares at you, wide eyed, and then his eyes flick over to violet, and back to you.
"hi joel," you say.
if you're honest, you're expecting him to be the asshole you remember. grouchy. closed off. sweet only in private, intimate, brief moments.
what you don't expect is for him to gently call over to ellie with a "we need a minute here, could you take your cousin and see if tommy and maria need a hand?"
cousin, he'd said, and you can feel your heart slow down a notch, calming down a little. oof. one step at a time, you remind yourself, one step at a time.
"sure thing," ellie nods and helps the kid down from joel's lap, holding his hand as they walk through to the kitchen.
you're stood, frozen, as joel takes off his readers, rubs his eyes, and stands up. you've forgotten how imposing he can be, but even now, he just feels like a big shield between you and the rest of the world. you stare at each other for just a moment, and then strong arms are wrapping around you and joel is laughing?
"fuck," he snorts, "i can't believe it's you. after all this time!"
he pulls back but keeps his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down, studying you.
and then he looks back down at violet and you see his face contort from joy to something almost like fear. maybe dread, even? or anticipation.
"mama, who is this man?" violet asks, tugging at your sleeve, and you kneel down to her.
you meet eyes with joel one more time before answering her, and you see building panic behind them.
this was, admittedly, a lot. one step at a time. "his name is joel, he was a friend of mine. i knew him before you were born!"
violet extends her little hand out towards joel. "my name is violet, it's a kind of flower. i like your hair. it's sooo silvery."
you snort involuntarily, and joel gulps audibly, wide-eyed, before taking her small hand in his large palm, cradling it as if holding something precious, and shakes it. "i'm joel. it's nice to meet you."
you all have dinner and it's actually a pretty good time, as long as you don't make too much eye contact with joel, who looks as though he has an electric current running through him, keeping him wide eyed and twitchy. he's clearly trying to appear unfazed, but he's jumpy and not at all subtle, to the point that the kid who'd been on joel's lap earlier, rowan you'd learned, prods at joel at one point in the meal. joel jumps a mile and rowan furrows his brow asking why are you being so weird, uncle joel?
despite the tension, it's so domestic. this was a joel who folded his napkin on his lap before starting to eat, who minded his manners, and obviously pressed ellie to mind hers, too. the joel you patched up when he came to you bloodied and bruised felt like a shadow long since past.
after dinner, when you've made it through unscathed, tommy's watching the little ones as they conk out on the couch. maria's going over paperwork, and ellie's tuning a guitar.
joel pops his head into the room and makes a vague gesture indicating outside. "wanna chat on the porch?" he asks, and you nod and follow him.
there are a pair of handsome adirondack chairs and you each take a seat. you don't say anything, don't even look at one another. you just sit there in comfortable silence.
but then joel takes a deep breath and you know the question that's coming.
"violet?" he asks, "is she mine?"
you smile sadly.
"yeah," you say, "you're her daddy."
he chokes out a strangled noise and tries to cover it with a cough, badly.
he doesn't seem like he's gonna say anything, and you reckon he's not gonna, so you try and breeze past it.
"i know- i know it wasn't part of the plan." you exhale, "but it's okay, joel. she's only known one parent her whole life and it's common enough these days that she doesn't think it's strange. and i don't know if you ever want her to know that you're her dad, but i'm not ready for her to know. i'll tell her, but i want her to settle in here before any big life revelations come up for her. jackson's enough of a change as it is."
he nods slowly, coughs out a low "i understand. and i respect it. i just never thought-"
"neither did i," you cut him off, "and when i realized i was pregnant i didn't intend to keep it, but fedra had raided the last underground clinics that i knew about. most of the staff got hanged, and i was out of options."
he lets out a sharp exhale.
you're silent for another minute before joel speaks again.
"i'm sorry-" he says, "i'm sorry that your choice was taken from you. and i'm so sorry i wasn't there for you."
he still doesn't look at you, but he rests a hand on your knee.
"i can't believe- all this time and i have another daughter and i had no idea."
"she's such a cool kid," you tell him, "and don't get me wrong, i felt like the worst person in the world, bringing a kid into that fuckin'- fedra plague world," you admit, "but she's so funny, shy when you first meet her, but she has so much personality. every day, she's more and more of a tiny person! and she's just started doing this thing where i'll tell her something and she'll just scowl at me and she looks just like you-"
"hey, i don't scowl that much-" joel argues, scowling, and there's the joel you remember. all of a sudden you're hysterical with laughter, and then joel cracks too and he's laughing with you.
after a while, you fall into another comfortable silence. it gets later and later, and then joel's standing up and offering you a hand.
"'fraid i've got patrol in the morning, so i'd best be going to bed soon, and i'm guessing y'all are exhausted?"
you nod, feeling as if acknowledgement of it suddenly made it true. good god you were tired.
"you know what house you're staying in tonight?" he asked, and you tell him the number.
"sounds good," he nods, "can i walk ya home?"
"sure," you smile.
you head back inside, scoop up violet, and then the three of you are heading towards your temporary lodgings.
when you arrive, joel bids you goodnight at your doorstep and bobs his head a little as though he was about to lean in to kiss your cheek but then thought better of it, and instead takes your hand for a moment and mutters without looking directly at you, "it's really great to see you, baby. glad you made it here safe."
you go to bed. an actual bed, mind you.
you dreamed of joel miller.
you'd pretty much decided you and violet would stay here in jackson from the first minute you walked down the main street, but you gave it a few days before letting the council know. this is what you've been looking for, though. a home. a community. safety.
violet starts going to school. she's in the same year as rowan and apparently thrilled about it, so you're at tommy and maria's home more often than you'd imagined. you start patrolling, too. just short routes to begin with, but you didn't make it through this much without knowing how to survive, and you're good at it.
and then there's joel.
he's different.
he's aged, but he still looks great. the salt and pepper of his hair has turned more salt than pepper, and the crinkles by his eyes are deeper. you're still attracted to him, so attracted to him, but you don't wanna make any rash decisions. he seems lighter, clearly taken by ellie, and cautiously friendly towards you and violet.
he's made it clear he'd like to get to know her, but is happy to take his time, waiting until you're more comfortable with it. which is so beautifully, frustratingly thoughtful.
you never expected that cold, angry joel could be so warm and open, but he seems like such a doting family man, keeping an eye out for ellie, always there for tommy, being a good uncle for rowan. there was clearly some tension between him and his sister-in-law, too, but one evening you walked in on them doing dishes together, singing along to some old dolly parton cd. you slipped out the door before either of them saw you'd seen.
one night, violet and rowan are having a sleepover, supervised by tommy, and you have a rare night to yourself. you make your way over to the tipsy bison and relax at the bar, letting the whiskey warm you.
you chat with the bartender, and decide to put a song on the jukebox, but as you get up from your stool you knock the whiskey bottle over and watch tumble seemingly in slow motion before being caught by- "joel?"
"easy now," joel smiles, "don't want a repeat of last time."
it takes you aback for a moment, and then your face is burning with the memory.
"can't believe you remember that," you say, and he snorts.
"course i do. that was the last night i saw you."
he pulls out a stool and sits down next to you. gestures at the bartender for a glass, and pours himself a healthy finger of whiskey.
"how do you remember that night going?" you ask.
joel scratches at his cheek for a moment, pondering, and smiles, sipping his whiskey. "i was gonna be leavin' town, and i wanted to say goodbye so i checked out all your usual spots. walked in to see you smash a bottle and then try and flirt your way out of it with that weedy little bartender."
"i remember that bit, too," you say, "though on my end, i'll remind you, i was drinking because i was preemptively missing you and didn't realise you were leaving so soon."
"i do remember you saying that," joel nods, "and i was so mad because i'd spent so much time that night trying to find you, and that was time we wouldn't get back."
your eyes widen at his words. you didn't know this part. suddenly, you feel a warmth rising in you that you hadn't expected.
"do you remember what happened next?" he asks.
you nod. "yeah, you yelled at me a little, implied i was a whore, yelled at me more, and then told me you were leaving in the morning."
"jesus, i'm an asshole," joel says, and you smile.
"yeah, you are. neither of us were at our best though. but then we had one last night."
"one last night," he echoes.
neither of you say anything for a minute, and then joel breaks the silence.
"i'd be lying if i said i hadn't replayed that night over and over again in my head."
you smile. "me too," you admit, "it's honestly been a while since i've been with anyone, and when it's just me and my hand, that night's the first thing that i think of."
joel inadvertently chokes and splutters, dabbing at his mouth as he tries to collect himself. he's flushed a beautiful shade of pink and it makes you giggle.
"shit, girl, i forgot how blunt you can be."
"i think this might be the first wholly honest conversation we've had since i got to town," you ponder, still smiling, "we're always dancing around each other. in orbit but never colliding."
he looks at you with a curious expression on his face, like he's enjoying the task of trying to parse you almost as much as he's seeking an understanding.
you pour yourself another glass of whiskey and knock it back in one. you're gathering your courage. you're plotting plots now, and sure it's been a long time, but you figure it's worth a shot.
"i've been thinking, joel," you tell him, and his eyes are so focused on you, "i wanna say up front i don't have any expectations, and i won't be offended if you'd rather not-"
he raises an eyebrow at you and you could swear you see flirtation behind it.
"but, if you wanted-"
"spit it out"
"that last night doesn't have to be the last night."
your eyes are locked and don't speak, don't move, don't breathe.
and then joel miller's lips are crashing into yours, and you moan into him, one hand clutching at your shoulders, the other cupping your chin, and you melt into it.
"my place," you tell him, "violet's with her cousin tonight."
you realise that's the first time you said those words like that, so casual and normal, and you know you'll need to unpack that later but joel, shockingly, takes it in stride.
before you know it, you're walking up the porch steps with joel right on your heels and unlocking the front door.
you've barely gotten the door open before you're on the other side of it and it's slamming shut, joel pressing you against the threshold and kissing you deeply. one of his thighs presses between your legs and without thinking you rub up against it.
"shit, i've missed you baby," he says, and you're moaning against him as he helps you pull off your shirt, and you start to unbutton his. he continues, bashful, "didn't think you'd want an old man like me, anymore."
you scoff, "you've aged well, joel, and more than that, you've aged. you're still here and i can't even begin to tell you how much that means."
you tug the flannel from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor behind him before you pull off his undershirt.
"besides," you tell him, "you're the best lay i've ever had and i don't believe for a minute you've lost your touch."
he snorts, but then he's kissing on your neck again and you know you'll need to talk about things properly at some point. for now, though, you'll get lost in the feeling of him.
you're lost in the dizzy haze of touch. joel's hands are all over you, grabbing, stroking, caressing. you stumble to your bedroom, stepping out of your jeans and helping him shuck off his pants along the way. then he's laid out on your bed, bare except for his boxer shorts, chest heaving and cock straining.
you yank off your panties and climb on top of him, straddling him so your bare pussy rubs up against his hardness. he groans and grabs you by the hips, rocking you up and down his length.
"feel so good, baby," he breathes, and his eyes are fluttering closed in pleasure. "come here," he tells you, and he pulls you down for a kiss.
you take him in. look at his body. his chest hair has greyed, and he's got more scars than you remember including a nasty-looking one that must've been a close call. you run a thumb over the one on the side of his chest, still pearly but less pink these days, from the time you patched him up.
joel watches you watch him. "i never thanked you properly for that, sweetheart," he says, "but thank you. you saved my ass that night."
"of course," you tell him, as you dip down and lick a stripe up from his happy trail, all the way to his throat.
"fuck," he whines, and you shut him up with a kiss.
when you finally break, he strokes your cheek. "sit on my face," he tells you, and you don't need him to ask you twice.
you hobble up on your knees and then rest your cunt on his open mouth. he lets out a strangled moan and hmmms into you, the vibrations hitting your clit deliciously, before grabbing onto your hips and eating you like a man starved.
his clever tongue finds your aching clit and flicks against it, hard. once you're nearly overstimulated, he senses it and starts to lick long strokes, back and forth, dipping into your drooling pussy with each pass.
it's heavenly. addictive. you've hooked with old flames before, years after you'd slept with them last, and not only does joel not disappoint? he blows your fucking mind.
you come on his tongue and instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer. licks you deep. takes a breath and tells you "one more, baby, gimme another one."
you do, using his face to get yourself off, taking your time to build back up, rocking your hips over him, his nose covered with your slick, his cheeks, lips, and chin glistening so pretty when you finally shudder and spasm all over him.
"taste so good, baby," he tells you, "i wanna make you come on my tongue all night long."
"as much as i'd love that," you say, "i need that cock in me right fucking now. it's been seven years, joel."
he smirks, but doesn't need persuading.
he flips you over and presses his cock head at your entrance. before he slides in, though, he takes a moment to look you over.
you know you look older, and your hair has a few grey strands throughout. you've got more wrinkles, and stretch marks, and more than a few new scars.
before you can second-guess yourself, though, joel is stroking a hand along all of your perceived imperfections, adoring.
"so fuckin' beautiful", he whispers, "after all this time- i can't believe-"
you let your hand lace through the hair at his nape and give it a gentle tug. he closes his eyes, focusing only on the sensation, before opening them again. looking directly at you.
you're already so wet and worked up, he slides into you easily in one stroke, making you both gasp, and he just rests there for a moment, fully sheathed in you.
you clutch one another as he starts to thrust into you, pressing you open in a delicious stretch.
he fucks into you and then pauses and readjusts. moves your legs so they're on his shoulders, rather than wrapped round his waist. then he presses into you again, tentative, and your eyes practically roll back. it's the deepest thing you've felt.
"takin' me so good," he praises, "i feel how wet and ready you are, you've been needing this a while, huh?"
you can barely speak, only enough to breath out a whiny uh-huh that makes him chuckle.
"touch me", you beg, and he does, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, gripping your waist, your hips. he grabs at your ass and jiggles it before giving it a swat that makes you giggle, but he looks positively feral.
"this fuckin' body," he groans, and you squeak as you take a particularly deep thrust and he eases up just a little.
you reach up to grab his jaw and kiss him, and he kisses you back, deep and lovely. you drag your tongue along his jawline and pepper kisses down his neck, trace your fingertips along his pearlescent scars.
"god, joel," you moan, "so fuckin big, you feel so good."
"you even feel better than i remember, too."
"don't you dare stop, don't you dare stop fucking me-"
"never, baby. wanna have you like this always."
you can feel your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed with the sensation, with the tenderness and the care and the big cock fucking deep into you, it's all so good.
"yes baby," he grunts, "keep it open for me, good girl, letting me fuck you so nice."
you can see how his eyes are glittering and know he's emotional, too. he's staring at you with reverential awe that might embarrass you if it didn't feel so right. this isn't the rough, hair pulling, choking, biting sex you remember from him. he presses a hand over your belly and rubs gentle circles against it. his touch is electric.
"can't believe you made it," joel whispers, "made it all the way here, and you still want me. we've got a kid, and i left you all alone, and you still want me."
"always, joel," you tell him, and you realise it's the truth. whatever life you make for yourself, you want joel miller in it.
he lets out a growl and starts fucking you harder, deeper.
your orgasm builds quickly and soon you're clutching at his shoulder, leaving half moon crescents in his skin where your nails dig in, holding on for dear life.
"i'm gonna come," you tell him, and he holds you through it, his pace steady as your walls clench around his cock.
his hips begin to stutter as he loses his rhythm, nearing his own climax. he chokes out, "where do you want it?"
"my chest," you say, "come all over my tits."
he pulls out and strokes himself twice before spilling out on your chest, his cum landing on you in hot ropes.
after you catch your breath, he gently cleans you up and then pulls you into the crook of his arm, holding you close. you lay there together, just breathing.
"so gorgeous, momma," he says.
"not too bad yourself, daddy," you tell him, and he snorts.
you know you have a lot of things to talk about. the past seven years. the future. loss and love. violet getting to know her father.
for now, though, joel miller is in your bed and you're going to cherish every minute of it. it's more than enough.
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qqueenofhades · 2 years
Note
When Hob said "I think I have been stood up", I full on expected the barkeeper to react to that as if Hob's date hasn't showed and telling him not to be worried because he has seen many couples fight and make up afterwards and is sure Hob's relationship will survive it. Like, I was genuinely so surprised when the barkeeper talked about "friends" haha
Okay okay okay okay but. I gotta say something SO IMPORTANT about this from my position as Tumblr Old and Local Queer Historian, because.... yes. And that is:
That scene takes place in 1989.
Why is that important, you say? Well, because this is the end of an entire decade of the AIDS crisis. There has been endless fearmongering and conservative attempts to paint gay men explicitly as disease-ridden degenerate pedo Threats to Your Community who might infect your children with AIDS and make them dirty homos by so much as LOOKING at them, pretty much. They are literally toxic people, they are generally shunned, nobody knows what to do and is terrified of the fact of how quickly AIDS patients usually die with no effective treatment. And oof it makes me feel Some Kinda Way for Hob, born in the middle of the Black Death and who was haunted by that shadow all his life, experiencing this as a queer man in the 1980s. Like, he almost certainly lost several friends to it at least, watched them die, probably went in there to the wards when few other people would, both because he's immortal anyway and he doesn't think it's right to leave them alone.
Anyway, in the UK, it was literally only 2 years before, in 1987, when Princess Diana opened the first dedicated AIDS unit at London Middlesex Hospital, and publicly shook hands with a man who had HIV -- which was shocking because many people still thought you could get it through casual physical contact. So while on the surface, Hob looks like your average 1980s douchebro -- he's got the brand new Porsche, the slicked back hair, the giant brick cellphone, the works -- he is still going into public to have a date with a man he is in love with, regardless of whether either of them will ever admit that or act on it. (And given how 1889 ended, if Morpheus does show up, they ARE kinda gonna have to talk about it in some way.) Hob is, in this moment, incredibly vulnerable. Emotionally and socially for sure, and if the local macho assholes clock him as a Fag, probably physically too.
So that conversation when Hob says he's been stood up is absolutely LOADED with subtext, things he isn't saying, and things the bartender understands about him and tries to support. They're British, so by nature they're not huge on talking about their feelings, but Hob says he's been stood up. He doesn't use pronouns, he doesn't say it was by a girl, and if the bartender used the word "couple," it would generally presume that he too thought Hob’s date was a girl. So he goes for the most careful, also-has-a-long-queer-history use of "friends." He implies it's more than that, but he doesn't say so or put Hob on the spot for probably dating a man, because again, it's not safe.
After that is when Hob orders a drink, and the bartender tells him that people in this country can do anything if they have money. He's trying to subtly communicate that this is a safe place and he won't judge, and Hob picks that up immediately, which is why he is so shocked to hear that the White Horse has been sold and is going to be torn down for condos. Hob is losing not just the one place he can be assured (well, until now) of meeting his Stranger, but a place that has been subtly communicated to be safe for him personally, as a queer man in 1989. That is undoubtedly part of why he immediately refuses to countenance the idea of this actually happening, buys the pub, makes giant signs, hangs out in the New Inn until Dream actually does come back, etc. So like... there is so much going on in that scene, and maybe only 25% of it can be said aloud. Which I think is absolutely critical for you younguns to understand, so. Yeah.
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forpiratereasons · 10 months
Text
meeting stede bonnet
a slow meandering through June. second prompt: trust!
day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10
-
“Cough up, you lot,” Lucius said, sliding into the sticky booth at Spanish Jackie’s. “I was right, so that’s fifty each, thank you, I take small bills, large bills, piggy banks—”
“No way,” Oluwande snorted. “Nope, don’t believe it.”
“And yet, it’s true.” Lucius pressed a kiss to Pete’s cheek, stole a long sip of his frozen margarita. Strawberry. Pete had terrible taste; Lucius loved him.
“That’s not possible,” Roach cut in.
“Gotta say, lover, I don’t buy it either,” Frenchie agreed.
Lucius took a moment, preening, and then turned to Jim. “Jim, darling?”
Jim sighed. Rolled their eyes. And people said Lucius was dramatic—Jim went through life like they were starring as a very annoyed spy in their own biopic.
“It’s mostly true,” they said.
“It’s all the way true.”
“Mostly. Probably.”
“It’s very, definitely, extremely true.”
“It’s a little vague.” Jim waved a hand in the space between them. “It’s more like—he’s in the process.”
“But he is?” Oluwande asked. “Coming out?”
“Little rainbow pin, right there on his shirt yesterday,” Jim said, nodding. “He didn’t say anything, but I thought he was going to shit himself every time he had to come up to one of us. He had it on again today, with one of those stringy little rainbow friendship bracelets you can get in the park on Sundays.”
“Kept rolling and unrolling his sleeve,” Lucius added. “I think he sweat through his shirt, actually—he was wearing a different one after lunch.”
There was a pause as the group considered this.
“You know,” Frenchie said, after he’d tipped the remainder of his beer back, “I didn’t think Stede could even get nervous. He’s like, the most balls-to-the-walls guy I know.”
The group around the table murmured in agreement. Stede tended to recklessly throw himself into things, as if he’d forgotten they could go badly, but maybe that was why they largely tended to work out instead. Sometimes it looked like insane courage; sometimes it just looked a bit insane.
Mostly, it looked like someone desperately trying to make up for lost time.
So it’d been unnerving, really, to watch Stede flit anxiously through the shop, jittery in an old, familiar way that reminded Lucius of being twelve. Like he was trying to say something but was terrified that someone else might know.
Nevermind that Lucius had definitely already known Stede was gay as a pink flamingo—hence the fifty dollars everyone now owed him, thanks ever so.
“So what’d you say to him?” Pete asked.
“Nothing.” Lucius took another drink of the strawberry margarita; it was ghastly. “You didn’t see him, he was like a skittish little horse. I didn’t want to startle him.”
“Probably better to give him space.”
“You just don’t want him to cry on you, Jim,” Frenchie pointed out.
Jim shrugged. “I really do not, yeah.”
“I could talk to him,” Roach offered.
Pete reached a hand out for a high five. “We’ll go together.”
“Absolutely not,” Oluwande said, loud and stern.
“Nobody’s talking to him,” Lucius cut in over everyone. “No—no, do not give me the eyes, Pete, I’m serious. We’re not ambushing him on this, yeah?” Roach opened his mouth to argue; Lucius shook the margarita threateningly at him. “No. We’re going to let Stede come to us, yeah? We are all going to respect Stede’s boundaries, and when he’s ready we’re going to be chill about it so this bizarre little man has safe little gays to go to in his time of need.”
“Not sure you can describe us as safe little gays, babe,” Frenchie mused.
That was fair. Lucius soldiered on anyway.
“Think about when we were coming out, yeah? And how much better that would’ve been if we’d had people in our corner who were patient, who we could trust, who let us go at our own pace?”
Everyone thought. Jim, who would never volunteer anything in their life, still looked significantly at Olu in a jaw-droppingly sentimental thank-you-for-being-that-person sort of way. Frenchie leaned over and kissed Roach’s cheek.
“So it’s decided then,” Pete said, supportive to the end. Lucius loved him. “We’ll let him come to us.”
“When he’s ready.”
“And only when he’s ready.”
“That settles it, then. Cheers, m’queers,” Frenchie said, and everyone clinked their glasses over the table. “To trust!”
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magnoliabutters · 1 year
Text
• SOMETHING NEW •
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pairing: ellie williams x (she/her, 18+) reader
summary: assigned to another patrol with ellie, what’ll happen this time?
warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language: tlou 2 possible spoilers, canon divergence; heavy make out sesh, heavy petting, pet names, oral and fingering (r-receiving), the lesbianism, intrusive thoughts, lil’ rough play (light choking), lack of proof reading, etc.
word count: ~3.2k
reblogs for ellie, a gay icon 🌈 ✨
note: we are finding ellie 2 years post tlou2 (i think around age 21-22). all my love to bella, i’ll see hbo’s ellie tlou2 in a few years ♥️ also fresh from writer’s block and depressive episode, let’s get it!
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“Ellie, we doing this or what?” you whine as you graze a hand down your horse’s neck. You turn to see Penny, Ellie’s latest conquest, roll her eyes and turning back towards her to finish their conversation. Ellie nods, smiling while her eyes float between yours and hers. As Penny waves a solemn goodbye, Ellie slowly walks up to you. She tightens her backpack straps against her shoulders. Her red auburn hair falling right to her shoulders.
“You alright?” she asks with a bit of a laugh. She grabs a saddle and lightly places it against her horse’s strong back. You hum, putting your back towards her. You place your rifle’s ammo into the saddle’s sack. “What is that, the sixteenth girl since you got back from California?” you mutter, intentionally not turning around. She scoffs as she tightens the buckles against her steed. “Blister, sounds like she’s been countin’, huh?” she asks her horse with an undeniable grin.
You shake your head no. Your hands hold loosely against the reins as you guide your horse, Milo, out of the stables. Ellie follows closely behind you. “Did they tell us where we’ll be stationed yet?” she asks, leading Blister 2.0 down the walkway. “Clock tower,” you answer. “Shit,” she grumbled, but you can barely hear it. Your eyes are on Jackson’s bustling neighborhood. It continues to shock you. It’s day to day is, at times, overwhelming. You find peace out beyond the walls. That’s the only place you can be yourself. Where you feel free. You hop onto Milo’s back as you slowly lead Ellie towards the front gate.
You have gotten to know Ellie through a few patrols on the ridges of Wyoming’s mountains. Never thought you would end up here. Jesse put you two together, sharing that you both have similar styles. Whatever that means. Despite the lack of conversation, not due to lack of trying on Ellie’s part, you have had relatively pleasant trips. You have especially enjoyed the marksmen competitions, simply started without a word and a single headshot.
Finally outside of the walls, you are able to let a deep breath out. “You know you do that every time we leave,” Ellie states curiously. You bite your lip, keeping your eyes ahead. You sense her looking at you, see her smile in your peripheral. She is taking notes, observing you. She would not know that you do this unless she was watching you. She would not be watching you unless she wanted to. Your heart flutters as you let out a shaky breath this time. But you are careful, careful to not show this bubbling anxiety within you. Careful not to let her get too close.
“You’re telling me you don’t like to take a breath of fresh air?” You ask, nonchalantly as you push on ahead. Ellie laughs, the kind of laugh that folds into itself. You almost expected to hear a snort following it. “You get plenty of ‘fresh air’ in Jackson,” she says with use of air quotation marks. “What’s the real reason?”
You gradually turn back towards her, your chin over your shoulder. As soon as your eyes meet, you quickly return your gaze forward. “A girl’s gotta have her secrets,” you mumble as you hurry your horse. Ellie shakes her head side to side as she slowly catches up. “You’ve got plenty, y/n,” she smiles. You bite your lip, smirking as you land your eyes upon the clock tower ahead.
An hour passes filled with callouts, work and no play. Reaching the base of the tower, you hop off your stead and guide Milo into the building. You tie his reins against the old piping sticking out of the wall. “I’ll meet you up there,” you say as you nod towards the stairs. Your hand softly grazing down Shimmer’s neck until you reach her reins. Ellie nods in response as she slides off her saddle. She closes the metaled gate behind you four. She pulls her backpack strap over her shoulder as she reluctantly walks up the steps.
You take a deep breath, pressing your head against the base of Shimmer’s neck. Your heart beats quickly in your chest. Breath continues to escape you as you attempt to push the feelings down. Ellie has never made you feel this way before. A sudden skip of a beat, sure - but never this. She just looks so damn good today. That burgundy hoody, with her skin-tight jeans. Her hair, short but ragged as it comes curling around her face. She is beautiful.
After ensuring both animals were safely secured, you walk up the steps. You see Ellie still bent over at the check in table. Her hand furiously writing away. Her backpack resting against the leg of the table. “You know writing ‘All Clear’ is good enough, right?” you ask callously. She peers back at you, her brows perplexed. A smile slowly forms. “Oh, I’m not just counting the infected,” she says matter-of-factly as she turns around. “I also have an ongoing tally of how many times you’ve been mean to me on our patrols.”
You cannot help the laugh that explodes from your chest. “Mean to you?” you ask between chuckles. Ellie’s smile becomes more of a smirk as she watches you through her untamed bangs. “You can handle it,” you whisper sinisterly. Abruptly, your body senses a change in the room’s ambience. A shift in control. She had it now. Ellie was in charge. It shifted, right from under your nose. “I can,” she states slowly. “And I like it.” You scoff lightly in disbelief. “You like it?”
“Yeah,” Ellie says as she leans back against the table. A pen still in hand. “I like it.” You gulp as your eyes widen. A hot flush rushes through your body as you attempt to process the scene before you. “What else do you like?” The words fall from your mouth so quickly you wish you could have caught them, stopped them. You bite your lip in nervousness as your eyes gaze into the blue-grey before you.
Ellie recognizes the worry in your body language. She bites her lip for entirely different reason. Her eyes are hell bent on you and your body. She looks off to the side as she states, “I like going on these shifts with you.” You smile as you let out a shuddered breath. Speechless, fuck. Why can’t you say anything? “Now, my turn for a question,” she starts as she pushes off the table. Her body both graceful and sturdy. “Wait - what?” you laugh off.
“Where were you before Jackson?” she asks, walking over to a window. You are thrown off by the question. It has been over fifty of these shifts with her, 2+ years of living in Jackson - yet, this is the first time she asks. “There was nothing before Jackson,” you reply as you meet her at the window. “I’ve been moving place to place since I can remember,” you add. Your eyes raking over the sight. The bright orange sun lowering behind the mountain tops. The once bustling town before them, absolutely empty. “Staying in one place for more than a month is not exactly natural to me.”
“But here you are,” Ellie says, not taking her eyes from the scene. “Here I am,” you repeat. You feel your shoulder brush against hers as you rest the tops of your thighs against the window sill. “Why are you still here?” you ask blatantly. Quickly, your mind rushes. Screaming at you. You accidentally let out an impulsive thought so carelessly, so dangerously. “Still here?” she laughs, turning towards you. “‘Cause of Dina, right? Man,” she mutters under her breath. A sound escapes her mouth, almost as though she is exhausted. Her face grows solemn. It is clear that this is not a topic she wishes to speak of. Your heart drops to your stomach.
Ellie leans against the wall, placing distance between you two. “Small town,” you start, hurriedly breaking the silence. “Doesn’t help that you’re practically a celebrity there.” Her frown immediately dissipates as a grumbling laugh erupts within her. Your serious face slowly crumbles down as you soon learn that her happiness is contagious. “A celebrity, huh?” she scoffs. “Yeah, or a superhero,” you joke half-heartedly, but her eyes jumped right up to yours. They are flooded with pain, anguish. If you stare long enough, they are almost unrecognizable compared to her warm personality. Not at all what you would have expected, but it intrigues you. You like it. You like her more, for it.
“Anyway,” Ellie pulls away. Her second time filling the distance between you two. You find yourself regretting the question, despite two years of curiosity. “I stay because of JJ,” she whispers. “JJ?” you ask. “My son.” Her eyes float to the ground. “Dina’s little nugget?” you lightly laugh. His rosy cheeks are one of the few things you look forward to each day. “He’s yours too,” you smile, happy in your affirmation. “He might be her nugget, but he was my potato first,” she chuckles to herself.
The hole in your heart fills with her laughter. It’s goofy, almost always a step away from an accidental snort. Ellie’s mesmerizing, it’s undeniable. It’s also why you have stopped yourself from staring at her for too long, up until this moment. “So you didn’t stay behind for Dina,” you mutter to yourself. Another impulsive thought escaping your lips. She looks up to with sincerity in her voice. “What I have with Dina is forever,” she starts, pulling her eyes from you. “But not my forever. Not anymore.”
You take a step back, taking in the powerful statement. It mimics your own story. The love you had and lost. Love that just is. Love that will never cease to exist but is no longer the front runner in your life. Your heart is open, just as hers is. “And you?” she asks, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes back on yours. Your heart skips every time you see those hardened, yet sweet, eyes on you. “Why are you still in Jackson?” You maul over the question. The very question you have been asking yourself lately. “Trying something new,” you whisper slowly.
With your eyes are fixed onto hers, Ellie begins to rake over the features of your face. She takes you in, all of you, as your eyes float to her perfect lips. You slowly muster the courage to raise your hand. Raise it to the side of her face, where her jaw and neck meet. Her eyes quickly shift to your hand. Surprise expressed upon her face.
You are slow, so slow as to not startle the bird. “Just trying something new,” you whisper as you lean into her. You note her eyes closing as she meets you half way. Your lips press against each other. A moment so incredible that it takes breath right from under you. Electricity sparks between you two. You hope she feels it too. Your hand against her jaw grips tighter to her face. You feel her hand placed gently against your hip, pulling you deeper into the kiss.
You pull away after what felt like forever to take a simple breath of air. Both of your eyes open to each other as you step back. Ellie’s mouth is ever so slightly open. Her body language looks as though she is about to pounce, ready for anything. A slow tongue runs over her lower lip. Your heart races as you lean back against the window, back to your safe spot - where you had been standing before. You slowly take off your backpack, letting it fall to the floor at your side.
As soon as your eyes hit the floor, Ellie closes the space between you two. Her hands rushing through your hair as your back as pushed against the cold glass. You fall back onto the window sill as you wrap your legs around her waist, pulling her atop of you. One hand softly floats beneath your shirt, holding harshly against the skin of your side. She breathes against your surface as your hand crawls up her back.
You can feel her grinding between your legs. The sensation leaves your eyelids fluttering. Ellie’s mouth slightly opens as a slick tongue slides against your lips. Without a moment’s hesitation, both of your tongues crash against each other. Electricity? No. More like fire now. There is a strong, bustling fire burning between you two. A fire waiting ever so patiently to explode. Not an extinguisher in sight.
Confidence fuels your actions as you desperately want more - more of Ellie. Your kisses gradually becoming more aggressive. Kisses turning into bites. Her grip onto your hair now pulling, no longer gentle. You wince at the pain against her sweet tasting lips. You feel a smile pressed against your own. “Oh you like that do you?” you whisper.
Both of your lips lightly graze against each other as the words fall out. Ellie hums as she presses against your mouth. “I like you,” she says softly. Her eyes still fixated on your mouth as you take in a breath. Your heart pounding, you can feel your ears pulsate. You push off the window, placing your hand behind her head, as you lead her backwards.
However, Ellie has other plans. She quickly turns you and leans you back against the table. Her hand back under your shirt, making its way to your breast. You let out a shuddered breath as her kisses trace from the side of your mouth to your neck. Your eyes close as you take in all only the sensation of touch. Her fingers grab hold of you. Your nipples harden in her grasp.
Ellie’s waist rests firmly between your legs. You begin to rut your hips against her as her other hand slides up your sternum and to your neck. Her index finger and thumb press into the sides of your neck as you feel the rush of lightheadedness fill your body. It is exciting, incredible. At the same time, you feel her other fingers tightening around you nipple. A little whimper leaves your body before you could stop it. All it did was egg her on.
Her hand quickly shifts to your pant’s button and zipper. You widen your legs, inviting her in. Without pulling at your jeans, she slides her slender hand beneath your panties. She curls her fingers up as they brush against your entrance. Her thumb, quickly and lightly, flirts with your clit as another whimper escapes your lips.
With a small pitch, Ellie bites your neck and breathlessly leans into your ear. “You’re so wet,” she whispers. “All for you,” you murmur back. She lets out a sharp breath of air as a smile fills her face. Slowly, two of her fingers press against your entrance. You bite your lip as she kisses against the crook of your neck. She leans in gradually, filling you up with just those two fingers. Another light bite against your neck as she feels your tightness and warmth.
As she bottoms out, her fingers curl within you. They gently brush against your g-spot as your eyelids flutter again. An intense level of pleasure that you cannot control overwhelms your body. You are hers now. She can do whatever she wants to you. And fuck, did you want her to. She slowly pulls away from that spot as her fingers begin to float back and forth between you. Her groin still grinding against you, but now following the movement of her hands.
You grip tightly against the back of her hair as you pull her more and more against your body. Finally, you lift her up and pull her mouth towards you. Your lips and tongues crash against each other in an embrace you will never forget. All while she pumps those fingers deep within you. You moan against her opened mouth as her eyes watch the pleasure expressed upon your face. She is fascinated by how good she’s making you feel. She doesn’t want to miss a second of your beautiful face.
“F-faster,” you muster before kissing and biting against Ellie’s lips. Her hand works hard to give you all the sexual sensations you desire. You entire body is on fire, plastered against her gorgeous frame. Your legs spread once more, pulling her in closer as they wrap around her waist again. Her eyes widen in surprise as her other hand grips tightly against the sides of your cheeks and pulls you in to a forceful kiss. You love it.
It becomes harder and harder to hold those moans in. They wriggle out with each of her hardened thrusts. “Fuck, Ellie,” you whine as place your hands against her shoulder blades. Your nails dig into skin, just below her shirt. “Keep saying my name,” she whispers back. “Just like that.” You immediately oblige her request, desperately wanting to scream her name aloud. You feel as though you might explode.
“Shit, Ellie, you fuck me so good,” you whimper as your head hangs back off your shoulders. “Oh yeah, baby? You like when I fuck you like this?” she asks between gritted teeth as her thrusts become more sudden and hard. “Oh my, fuck,” you let our slowly as you take in her pulsing fingers. “Ellie,” you moan as you struggle to maintain your breath. Your entire body moving with the strength of her thrusts.
“You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” Ellie whispers into your ear as she bites the lobe. You let out weak breaths as your nails dig harder into her back. Little gasps leave your mouth as you feel the rubber and in your stomach about to pop. “I feel you tightening around my fingers,” she says softly. “I know you’re close.”
Suddenly, she quickens her movements. The tips of her fingers curling and lightly brushing against your bumpy spot. “Ellie,” you let out abruptly. Your breath leaving you as you let out a deep moan that presented as music to Ellie’s ears. She moans along with you as her body curls against yours. “Fuck,” she lets out breathlessly as her eyes close. She feels you squeezing against her fingers. Your cum pooling in the palm of her hand.
Your moans slow as your body falls from your high. Everything feels like pins and needles as you crumple into Ellie’s embrace. Her arm wraps against your back as she pulls you in. Still with that wicked smirk on her face. “Fuck, you feel good,” she says breathlessly against your neck. Her fingers still warm inside you. “Again,” you muster the strength to say as your thighs attempt to clench together.
Ellie pulls back with an incredulous look. Her eyes rake over you face, attempting to gather information about whether or not she misheard. “Again, Ellie,” you say sternly. She smiles as her fingers curl within you once more. “No,” you whisper as you lightly tap her wrist. Her eyes flick up to you with concern. “On your knees this time,” you softly demand as you pull your shirt over your head.
You rest bare chested before her. Her eyes now filled with shock and excitement as they look over the new sight. You give her no time to adjust as you simply state, “On your knees.” With a smile, Ellie slowly falls to her knees. Her hands slowly pull at your pants until they fall the floor beside her. Her fingers from tightly onto the flesh of your outer thighs as she leans deeper into you. At the sight of this, you lean back onto your elbow against the hardened wood of the table. Your hand now deeply entangled into her hair as you push her further between your legs.
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note: hi. okie bye.
taglist for ellie? ♥️🫶🏼🤞🏼
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• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • requests open •
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sanctus-ingenium · 1 year
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What is your process like when building a story, it's characters and world?
my two main methods - start with characters, or start with plot/setting
to start with characters - that's an easy enough one for me and my main go-to. I enjoy writing and drawing characters more than I do working on worldbuilding or setting stuff, and I think "wouldn't it be cool if I had a character who was x/did y/etc". my book Said The Black Horse is 100% character driven. the three main characters are built for each other, to fit together in the story. the world is built FOR the characters - it's not a worldbuilding Project that works outside the scope of the story. so for this story, the starting point was - "i want to write about a poly gay relationship between three fucking losers who constantly get in arguments with eachother". before the faery stuff, before anything else about the setting, that was the start of it. it's about a close friendship/romance. i start with the characters - not so much 'here's what they look like and their personality and backstory' but 'here's the functional purpose of that character, here's what they bring to the story'. and that doesn't mean that everything has to be critically important to the plot either
so now we have the purpose of that character - what character traits make it easier to achieve this purpose? what might be entertaining to read? the characters are built as a cast, to all fit together - not in the sense of "x character is the stubborn one so that means y character has to be opposite of that", but "x is the stubborn one, so what trait of y's can emphasise x's stubbornness" and vice versa. the characters are tools, not people, and it's fine to give one a trait just for the purpose of enhancing our understanding of another more important character. how do they bring out the best in one another? or (my favourite) how do they bring out the worst?
I find that the story comes very naturally just from building up the cast. what parts of the setting can be used to show off these characters? my book has an extended period when the characters are lost as children & on the run - well, why not put them in a giant magic forest known for eating people alive, just to raise the stakes and show more of the supernatural elements? okay, how does that forest change the setting? how does it impact the characters? what are their misconceptions about the forest? which misconceptions come from their culture? what does that say about their culture? and once you get this sort of cycle going, it's hard to stop. only drawback is that it might take multiple rough drafts of the same story until you iron out all the creases - i started writing the rough draft in 2019, it was about 110k words. the first true draft in 2020 was 215k words. the current draft is 225k words. that's a lot of writing lol and each new draft started with a new blank document.
to start with setting - this is tougher for me because i just love characters so much and tend to only really care about them. but sometimes you get an idea like "what if big mechanical beasts" while listening to a christian metal album and you gotta pursue it, even without the safe starting point of the characters. but in a way it's kind of the same - the setting HAS to serve the story first of all, otherwise it's just a worldbuilding project. which is fine, they just don't hold my attention all that much. so the concept - 'what if mechanical beasts' -> what are they used for? fighting dragons. why? for fuel, and righteous religious reasons. immediately there's a scarcity problem with the fuel, right, if it only comes from dragons. so how is this dealt with? it's very expensive. the church controls the supply to avoid having to compete with private entities or a non-theocratic government. how is this enforced? and so on and on and on. and then to put the characters in, it's me identifying which POV might be interesting to read about - a knight struggling to meet the church's expectations, an enginesmith with a guilty secret, and a banished ex-knight who desperately yearns for adulation again.
i find that the best way to refine the setting or characters is just to write in it. pick a random plot that COULD happen and write it out short story style. i will instantly run into issues that need to be solved, in order of importance. it doesn't matter if you have a whole kingdom designed down to the last vizier if you don't know what a character does in their day to day life when the main plot isn't happening
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oxfordslutphase · 9 days
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Got tagged by @anincompletelist, @cha-melodius, @eusuntgratie, and @magicandarchery today—thanks friends 😘 We're back with more porn star AU because I've realized while writing this fic that I actually really enjoy writing dialogue now? I think it might just be the firstprince effect, because they're so snarky and fun and I can't resist, but I'm not looking this gift horse in the mouth!
“Vodka Soda, please,” the man said in a round, syrupy voice that Alex would know anywhere. Fuck.  He turned his body toward Henry and crossed his arms. “Watching your figure?” “Funny,” Henry said, brushing non-existent lint from his pants. His eyes dragged up and down the length of Alex’s body as if assessing him. Probably looking for something to pick at, Alex thought uncharitably. “Are you drinking or just loitering?” Theo, the blessed gem that he was, set a glass near Alex’s empty hand. Alex made sure to not break eye contact with Henry as he took a sip. Alex: 1, His Royal Pompousness: 0 “Pretty wild set up for a dinner party,” he said, gesturing around the room—the throngs of people dancing, the twinkling lights spiraling around banisters, the ice sculpture. “I would’ve preferred something a bit more lowkey, but—” Henry laughed. It was—regretfully, Alex thought—a good laugh, which Alex would admit to exactly no one. “You know Pez. He loves a good spectacle.” “Especially for his favorite boy toy, I’m sure,” Alex said. “Gotta make sure all the people haven’t forgotten about the Prince of Gay Porn.” Henry rolled his eyes. “I am certain you did not come to my party just to insult me” “Maybe you shouldn’t have invited me.” Fucking Nora. Alex had been foolish to think there was any chance of avoiding the interaction. Henry’s irritating presence had been following Alex around for years before he fucked off out of LA. Awards shows, parties, networking events. Time and space had clearly done little to lessen the fire that raged inside of Alex’s stomach at the sight of him.
open tag for anyone who wants to play (please tag me if you do, I love to peep at everyone's snippets.) 👀 no pressure tagging some folks who may not have already done this today: @bigassbowlingballhead, @nocoastposts, @sparklepocalypse, @hypnostheory, @orchidscript, @iboatedhere, @firenati0n, @anchoredarchangel
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termitexki · 4 months
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Holy wowzers first post ☢️‼️
I have artblock and my ipad isn't cooperating so I'm uh just... Dumping about Fo4 hcs n stuff cause I'm very very fixated and normal rn 🎉
-> Very surprised how I've only seen like 2-3 posts about Hancock x Danse cause we NEED to talk about how good this ship would be for like a enemies to lovers story... Overdone? Yeah. Still good? YES. Like holy yikers its crazy how well these 2 could be together in a big long slow burn fanfic I would beg for that.
-> Moreish popular but Deacon and MacCready is eating away at my brain rn... I swear I don't have a bias for rivals/enemies to lovers (Might just be because I haven't scrolled far enough for this and Danse x Hancock tho)
-> Poly-spec Hancock cause he has far too many close relationships to be strictly monogomous. Pan too cause he's not picky 😋
-> Also stupid Hancock (you wanna guess who my fav character is? Idk if it's obvious..) We gotta normalize idiot twinks and smark hunks (Danse).
-> Could make a whole post abt height hcs (specifically like how characters interact height-wise I've seen height hcs before) but for now I love to imagine MacCready and Deacon have like a 2 inch difference yet Deacon rubs in being taller all the time (I dunno much about Deacon but he reminds me of johnny cage so thats what I'm basing his personality off of)
-> Valentine and Hancock having a casual on and off romance is something I eat up far too much I'm so normal about them...
-> Danse has a sweet tooth... Idk how synths eat but I'm saying they can cause I rly like to imagine Danse getting all excited over a box of donuts
-> Also Danse has "have you ever seen a grown man smile?" Energy. Has the WORST case of resting bitch face.
-> Is there a term for the opposite of resting bitch face? Cause thats Hancock. He's always smiling. Happy. Cheerful. Joyful even. Especially on chems.
-> MacCready has evil parent energy. Like like he loves his kid but with other peoples kids he like purposely buys the last pack of m&ms to see the joy drain from their eyes...
-> Piper and Hancock are like those 2 queer best friends who bully each other, and my source is cause I said so!!
-> I for some reason think Hancock would be someone whos both great and horrible to vent to, like to start off he really tries to joke and cheer someone up but afterwards he's like really good at comforting people (not by offering them jet btw hes just a smooth talker)
-> I feel like Hancock sleeps with like those long santa-looking hats and goes "honk mimimimi honk mimimimi" when he sleeps
-> Very much not a headcanon and its smth I could just google but is Deacon bald? Like I see him bald and with hair?? Is it a wig, does he shave his head? Im so confused?
-> Danse laying in bed with Dogmeat laying on his chest cause hes sad. Drawing idea for later...
-> If modern day candy existed in the Fo4 Universe, Hancock's favorite would be smarties (is that what mentats are?), Danse's would probably be a plain hershey's bar, and MacCready loves swedish fish. Unsure about the rest of the fellas
-> Have you noticed I'm strictly talking about the male companions? Thats because I'm a VERY gay man and love to imagine them being silly and wacky. You should probably expect this for most of my future posts.
-> Hancock has lots of weird high stories, and he feels like that friend that randomly brings up the most stupid bs during a normal conversation
-> Imagine a Fo4 oc thats like, a post apocalyptic cowboy... Who rides around on this mutated horse and works on like one of those farm settlements...
-> Hancock likes marshmallows. I can just imagine him with a whole bag of marshmallows and om noming.
-> Danse has a line where he says the Sole Survivor talks in their sleep, but funny thing is Danse ALSO talks in HIS sleep 🤯
-> Hancock is the kind of autism that needs to wear socks on all the time, and his cosplay outfit is like his comfort outfit
-> Danse is the kind of autism that needs those big headphones on when it's loud. His headpiece actually has them built in cause I SAID SO‼️
Uh I think thats it for now! Felt wacky and I've been wanting to post fallout 4 stuff but didn't have any cool art yet so I have all this... Also first time posting to tumblr so uh yeah
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Anythewhoha have an absolutely fantabulous day and drink a nuka cherry if you can
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yonpote · 2 months
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see for the "YOURE ALL FUJOS" video essay i was thinking yeah that would be the shitty clickbait title but the actual essay would be about like the history of romance fiction esp queer male romance and how it's transformed over time with slash and BL and rpf and also discussing like, the fact that a lot of this style of writing despite being about gay men always attract majority women and are majority written by women, but i wouldnt wanna do the whole "YOURE ALL JUST GAY FETISHISTS" shit cuz i really dont think thats what it is like As A Whole i mean im sure some women ARE that but like. it wouldnt be an entire genre if it was just Gay Male Fetishists right.
OH and like how dnp fit into all of this wrt fic and also like how the speculative stuff and some popular fics manifested into believing certain things about the real dnp that we either have no way of knowing to be true or they have confirmed isnt true lmao. but then there are some tropes they really do just fit into perfectly!
ALSO HOW this fandom's center IS the ship like we gotta stop denying it idc if you keep adding WHETHER OR NOT ITS PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC!!!! to all of your "dan and phil love each other" bc first off completely missing the fact that its both and all and everything and so much more? second off get off your high horse about the shippers cuz yall are doing the exact same shit!
you're all fujos (endearing complimentary) get over it enjoy phan yaoi with me
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laundrybiscuits · 1 year
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(continued from this snippet)
“You could—” Jonathan moves his hands through the air like he’s conducting an invisible orchestra.
“I don’t know what that means,” Eddie tells him. They’ve been smoking all afternoon, so Jonathan’s even more of a space case than usual.
“He means you could pretend, dude,” says Argyle, who is putting little braids into Eddie’s hair. It’s very soothing. “Like, fake it ‘til you make it.”
“I mean. It would be good for Will to see, like…happily ever after. But gay. You know?” Jonathan tips the last of the Dorito crumbs into his mouth and contemplates the empty bag with devastatingly sorrowful eyes.
“That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” says Eddie. “Congrats, by the way, because I’ve heard a lot of bad ideas in my time, and I thought I knew all the major contestants. But lo and behold, dark horse Byers swoops in to steal the crown! The crowd goes wild.” He makes a raspy aaaaaah sound and wiggles his fingers to symbolize a packed stadium at the Bad Idea Olympic Games.
“That’s my boy,” says Argyle, reaching over to ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “Great job, brochacho.”
Eddie’s never totally sure whether Argyle’s doing an extended bit or not, and it’s the fucking best.
“So, you’ll do it?” Jonathan asks hopefully. He’s like a puppy dog, the way he perks up.
“Fuck no,” says Eddie. “Absolutely not under any circumstances. Fuck off.”
“Dude, I totally respect that,” says Argyle, starting on another braid. “Gotta honor your truth, Ed-head. Can’t shine a hella dope light from a flashlight powered by lie-batteries.”
“Every day I thank a god I don’t believe in for your presence in my life,” Eddie informs him.
———
Annoyingly, Jonathan doesn’t give up on the idea. What’s worse, he tries to be sneaky about it.
Eddie rolls up late to the next movie night, because he’s not always great with things like having a basic understanding of time and space. When he walks into the Byers-Hopper living room, Jonathan calls out, “Eddie, hey! There’s—you can sit here on the couch if you want. By Steve.”
Eddie gives him an unimpressed look. Jonathan doesn’t even have the decency to be phased by Eddie’s scorn, just shifts over to make room on the couch between him and Steve.
“Aww,” coos Eddie. “Did you miss me that much, Johnny-boy?” He drops right into Jonathan’s lap, slinging an arm around his neck.
“Why are you so heavy,” says Jonathan. “You look like if a stick figure had a baby with a mop.”
Eddie cackles. “It’s all the heavy metal. Weighs down my soul with whips and chains and demonic energy.”
“Jeez, you two, get a room.” Steve rolls his eyes.
The look of pure panic that crosses Jonathan’s face is pretty hilarious, all things considered.
“I’m not gay!” Jonathan blurts out. “Not that there would be—anything wrong with it. If I were. Because, um, gay people deserve love too. Because they’re just like us. I mean, people who aren’t gay. Which is me. I’m not. But it would be okay if I was.”
Will looks like he wants a rift to swallow him up where he sits, but Eddie thinks he looks a little bit pleased, too. It’s nice that Jonathan is trying so hard, even if Eddie has one or two notes on the execution.
“Okay, big guy,” says Eddie, patting Jonathan on the cheek. “Don’t have to throw a parade about it or anything.”
The movie’s okay, Eddie guesses. It’s Nancy’s pick, which means it’s a fast-talking political thriller that nobody but Robin can ever really follow. Afterwards, Steve leans over to him and says, “Hey, are you still out of Coke? I can pick some up on my way over after I drop Dustin off.”
Will gives Eddie a look, which is totally unjustified because this is a completely normal friend thing. Steve’s parents are in town, so he’s been spending a few nights camping out at Eddie’s, because everyone else has parents who’d probably object. It’s perfectly logical and completely normal. It’s not like he can bunk with Robin. Also, Robin kicks like a horse in her sleep.
But even though Eddie knows it’s a completely normal friend thing, he can also kind of see why Will might’ve gotten the wrong idea.
“Um,” he says. “Actually, maybe—not tonight? I just, Wayne’s been wanting to spend some more, like, uncle-nephew quality bonding time. You know he’s still kind of…” Eddie shrugs, grimacing. It’s true; Wayne’s been making a real effort to know what Eddie’s up to these days. Even though he hasn’t said anything, Eddie knows he’s traded some shifts to make their schedules line up a little better. So, everything Eddie’s saying is absolutely true and above-board, and there’s no reason for a weird squirmy guilty feeling to take up residence in his gut.
“Oh,” says Steve. “Sure, yeah, no problem.”
(ETA: yeah okay it's technically a series now)
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jennyandvastraflint · 5 months
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Xena Reactions S1Ep12! (Oops kinda fucked over by uni and forgot to watch on)
Lots of murdor
GORGEOUS WOMAN
ew. A MAN. GO AWAY, PARIS YOU FUCKING MORON
I am very respectfully looking at cleavage
Ohhh, Helen is calling for Xena?
Gabrielle wants to see Helen? Gay
They're such girlfriends
To Troy!
SPIDERS. OKAAYY
Does he know Gabrielle?
"We were to be married" Sjdhdbsb well. This is awkward. This is Gabrielle's wife Xena, the one she ran away with
Ugly-ass Menelaus
Awww, Helen and Xena?
Yes leave Paris's ugly ass
Uh oh, Gabrielle and the guy. Gonna be awkward
He's gonna die. 100%
THE GUY WHO KILLED HELEN'S MESSENGER
"ARCHEEER, ARCHAAAAAAHHH" *dies*
Gabrielle is like Damn I'm so glad I left him
Xena stop leaving your wife behind challenge
Xena encouraging Helen to leave her husband, we stan
I KNEW THE GUY WAS SHADYYY
How did this shit even know what Xena was talking about...
"Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts" hey it's the episode title
SOMEONE STAB PARIS PLS
Ah yes. The Trojan Horse. The Trojan Horse for Troy, Troy's Trojan Horse. The Trojan Horse specifically built for Troy. That Trojan Horse?
Xena KNOWSSSS
Shiiit, she gotta beat people up
Bath scene for Helen 👀
Ew, Paris go awayyyy
Helen, leave that fucker.
There goes Xena beating up men
Gabrielle is worried for her gf
WHY IS EVERYONE DRUNK/ASLEEP
Menelaus get your crusty old man ass out of here
YAY FOR GABRIELLE FIGHTING
GFs fight togetherrrr
That Amazon training really paid off
Xena's gonna get Helen
Paris you dramatic shit.
Xena saving gorgeous women, as she should.
Oh we all know that soldier NEEDES the bath
"Xena. I misjudged you." HELEN FUCKING TOLD YOU YOU MORON WITH ZERO BRAINCELLS
"Burn Troy to the ground" how about you fucking set your fragile male ego aside. Everyone.
Ah. The thin veil of heterosexuality
"No, you wanted to own me" TELL HIM
AHAHAHA PARIS WAS STABBED
EW. That's WORSE. GET your disgusting fingers off Helen
Melenaus crusty ass, shut uppp
HA. THEY ALL HID IN THE HORSE
Oh ffs shut ittt
"Leaving so soon? :3" Xena my beloved
BWAHAHA PUTS THE CROWN ON HIM "The prettiest prince"
Gabrielle kissing a homie
Xena will encourage eomen to leave their husbands and we love to see it
"COLLECTOR'S ITEM" GABRIELLE
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