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underhousearrestblog · 11 months

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Lost In Translation | Pedro Pascal

(summary) a drunk confession makes things weird between you and Pedro

(warnings) an age gap (oh the horror)

(pairings) Pedro Pascal x reader

(genre/ tropes) angst, lemon-y fluff, miscommunication, mutual pining, friends to lovers

(word count) 7.7k

(also) Pedro’s point of view (of sorts) is in Italics

(also) minors, scram (I’m kidding. Kinda. I was reading these types of things when I was twelve. I’m not the one to advise anything. Just, please, don’t interact. Better for my conscience and your digital footprint.)

(also) damn – I’m actually doing something here now... a step up from my usual one-post-per-six-months activity...

HAPPY READING!

Things around you blurred, people’s faces were distorted and music was giving you a headache. You lost count how many drinks you had about an hour ago and now you were regretting having any.

Your friends – who were more work acquaintances than friends – had ditched you, you had no car that you wouldn’t be able to operate in this condition anyway and not enough money to call a cab. All you had were a very revealing dress with a deep cut up your right thigh and a phone with around twenty percent charge left.

You stepped outside. Evening air did some but still not enough good for you to feel confident enough to walk those two and a half kilometers to your apartment building. Especially not in these knee-high boots. You would probably end up murdered. Or murdering yourself by accidentally stepping in front of a car. Either way, in a ditch.

You checked over you contacts for anyone who would pick up a phone and pick you up at the club at this ungodly hour. Since you had moved, most of your contacts were pretty much useless for this type of shit.

You pulled out your wallet. There were several business cards that you had gotten since you had started to work as a PR manager for The Last Of Us production team. Your eyes scanned over some of the names. Nico Parker. You weren’t sure she even got her license yet. Bella Ramsey. You knew for a fact she didn’t have a car.

Pedro Pascal.

Shit.

Well, from a purely objective stance, he was the best choice. He could pick you up and he didn’t give creepy vibes so technically you should be fine.

The problem was – he probably didn’t even know who you were. You had been on, like, two lunches with him with purely professional intentions. There had been more people from both the cast and the PR team and, even though you had spoken to him one-on-one multiple times, he had these types of conversations every day.

Worst he could do was say no.

To be fair, he could theoretically also cuss you out.

Or look at an unknown number and not even pick up.

Before you let your mind talk itself out of it, your fingers typed in his number and called.

It was quite chilly, now that you were out in dark alley with only your stripper dress on. It was pretty but god was it doing a shit job at keeping you warm.

The phone was calling and after the very first ring, you started to doubt yourself.

Maybe it would be less embarrassing if you just called your boss? Sure, she would know you indulged in an occasional living of your life but she was a woman and maybe would be more sympathetic than most of the men you worked with...

Two-

- Y/N? – unprepared for Pedro to actually pick up, you startled.

Your brain was foggy from all the alcohol and your body was still trying to decipher the sudden temperature drop so it took you several seconds to even put words together.

- Hey, are you alright? – it was actually him.

He really picked up at a quarter to midnight.

How did he know who was calling?

- Hey, Pedro, - up until this point you had used the formal “Mr. Pascal” just like everybody in your team but now it would feel weird. – So I have a bit of a... situation?

What was the term for getting drunk and placing all your trust in people that you had met two weeks ago?

- Are you alright? – he sounded worried. – Where are you?

Not wanting to appear nervous yourself, you tried to put on a smile, hoping it would make your voice sound lighter and careless.

- I’m at the... – you looked over your shoulder at the sign in front of the club, - Sensual Vibes, - you cringed at the name.

He definitely thinks you’re at a strip club.

- It’s a bar downtown. And I’m kinda drunk and I don’t really have any money, and my asshole friends left, and I’m also kinda col-

- Do you need me to pick you up? – he didn’t sound mad.

If anything – he sounded almost careful. As if he didn’t want to push any boundaries by insisting.

You were silent for a second.

Why was it so hard for you to ask for help when it was clear you desperately needed it?

Fucking pride.

You can cringe in shame tomorrow when you haven’t been murdered trying to walk home drunk...

- Yeah, - you said quietly before adding, - but it’s totally fine if you can’t. I’m sure two kilometers of walking will be fine if I can get off these stripper shoes-

- I’ll be there in twenty, - he said in a voice that left no arguments. – Go back inside. I’ll come in and get you.

- Who was that? – Oscar asked, stuffing the leftover pizza back into the box.

- Y/N, - Pedro put away his phone and went to get his car keys.

- Y/N? Who the fuc-

His hand stopped halfway to close the lid.

- Oh shit, - Oscar laughed, turning towards his friend. – Is that the girl from the PR team? It’s that Y/N?

Pedro didn’t answer and went to get his jacket. Oscar, in true friend fashion, followed him into the hallway, while teasing:

- Is that the same girl who still calls you Mr. Pascal even though you corrected her, like, thousand times?

Pedro just rolled his eyes.

This wasn’t exactly new. Oscar had never really met you – at least, in person – though there was abundance of information regarding you given by his friend every time Pedro had a drop of alcohol in his system.

- You know, if you weren’t so famous, I’d think she actually didn’t even know your first name by how much she uses the surname... – Oscar went back to pick up the leftover pizza, before turning back and looking at his friend suspiciously. – Are you sure she meant to call you? I mean, if she called you by your name, the call might have been meant for another Pedro. All I’m saying is-

Pedro threw him a dark look and turned to leave. Could that be true? You never really called him by his name and he was almost one hundred percent sure you didn’t even have his number...

- Lock up before you leave, - Pedro murmured before opening the door.

You were drunk and alone so, either way, you’ll have to make peace with it.

Once Pedro had ended the call, all you could do was blankly stare at the screen. To be fair, you were very intoxicated so... could you had hallucinated this whole conversation?

Either way – waiting inside was probably the best choice here...

You dropped down on a sofa in the foyer. You felt a headache coming on.

God, this is gonna be embarrassing...

After fifteen minutes of waiting and contemplating about leaving on your own, a hand lightly touched your shoulder, making you startle yet again. You had been way too focused on a painting on the wall to notice anybody approaching.

- Pedro? – your eyebrows shot up as if you were surprised that the person who you had called had actually shown up.

- Were you waiting for someone else? – there was a note in his voice you couldn’t quite decipher and your foggy mind refused to cooperate.

- N-no, - you stammered out. – I just wasn’t sure you would actually show up...

Now was his turn to look surprised. He opened his mouth to say something but, when you lightly swayed on your feet, he quickly put an arm around your shoulders to steady you.

When he lightly pressed his palm on the skin between your shoulder blades, a small shiver ran through your body, making you look up at him. He had probably seen or feel you shiver and had interpreted that as you being cold which was technically true. He pulled off his jacket that looked way too big for you.

You were by no means model-thin but the jacket was oversized on him so it looked like it would end up around your knees.

You shook your head.

- I’m not taking your jacket after you drove all this w-

- Don’t argue, - was all he said before lifting your arm, pulling the sleeve over it and then repeating the same on the other side. – And it’s still longer than that pretty thing you call a dress, - his eyes ran over your half-naked body.

Not in a leering way. But he did gulp when his eyes touched on the slit across your thigh.

Great, there’s no getting this out of memory, he chastised himself for enjoying and savoring you while you were very clearly drunk.

Shit, he’s probably uncomfortable, was all you could think about.

His car was pleasantly warm. You managed to climb in on your own but when it came to the seatbelt, you fingers still lacked focus and were stiff. After two unsuccessful attempts at connecting the two parts, Pedro gently peeled your fingers from the belt, reached over and buckled you in himself.

Before he could step back, you placed your hand on his bicep to stop him. The touch itself was innocent enough but you felt your skin lightly tingling as if you had touched a wire with low charge.

Pedro’s eyes followed you to where your skin had touched his. All he could do was stare at your fingers around his arm.

- Shit, sorry, - you decided he was probably uncomfortable and withdrew your hand, - sorry, I didn’t mean-

- It’s fine-

- I just wanted to say thank you, - your gaze held his. – I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise.

There was something intoxicating in doing favors for you. He would’ve driven to pick up any of the women he knew if they were drunk and alone but your trust in him made him a bit delirious.

He wanted you to call him if you ever needed to get home drunk but he also wanted to drive you to a meaningless appointment and pick you up after work.

- It’s fine, - he swallowed before stepping back. – You’re welcome.

He could hear Oscar’s teasing voice in his head, telling him how absurdly romantic it was for him to simp after a girl who probably read his number off a business card when hers had been cataloged in his phone since day one. He probably could recall it from memory at this point.

Pedro closed the door on your side and walked around to get into the driver’s seat. He tried to take in some of the chilling evening air before getting in.

- ... and my friend said just go up to him and ask him out, - he heard you say once he got in, - but every time I looked at his pretty face I chicked out... – you hiccuped, - chic... chickened out! And then-

Your words were slurred and half-coherent.

Pedro started the car, pulled out of the parking lot and then threw a glance at you.

- Who were you trying to ask out?

- I wasn’t trying... And he wouldn’t come anyway...

Alcohol had made you braver and in a stupid attempt to rip your own band-aid off, you turned towards Pedro and whispered in an almost broken voice:

- Would you go on a date with me?

You needed his answer. Tomorrow was gonna be shameful but you could, at least, write this off as a drunken mistake. You had finally done it, you had finally gathered all your courage and taken a step-

But it was the way you had said it. With the accent on the word ‘you’. All Pedro heard was your confession about liking another man and how busy he was, and now you looked at him with glossy eyes and it made him wonder if this stupid man you were talking about had said something to make you insecure. You had just confessed about your crush and needed confirmation that other men – smarter men – would still date you.

But knowing that you trusted him enough to take you home drunk, he knew he couldn’t just confess about wanting you for himself. That was a dick move used by every false male friend around the world.

- I... – you watched his throat work, as he was putting words together, then he ripped his gaze away from where you sat in his car, in his jacket, for the first time ever giving him your undivided attention. – I think you’re amazing and any man would be lu-

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. His figure got distorted through the rapidly increasing moisture.

You are amazing.

Any man would be lucky to date you.

Not me though.

Last one wasn’t said out loud but, in your defense, it was usually never spelled out when a person was rejecting someone.

This was a rejection speech.

He was giving you a rejection speech!

You lifted your hand to silence him. He immediately did and you looked out through the window on your side.

- Please, don’t, - your voice broke at the end. – I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

It was said and done.

You had asked and he had rejected you. Work’s gonna be a bitch but PR, thankfully, was a team effort so you could probably take meetings with another member of the cast and make one of your colleague meet with Pedro. Eventually, your stupid little feelings would stop hurting and you would move on.

Eventually.

Until then you probably should avoid Pedro every chance you got.

It was said and done.

Even drunk, you had realized his incurable crush on you and in a very “I’m well-versed in public relations” manner had put an end to his confession. What was it that you had said? I respect you way too much...

Respect you way too much to outright say “no”.

You had a crush on a man you worked with. Probably someone your age. Probably someone who’s life wasn’t constantly dissected on every media platform.

You were a real pretty girl so even if you never gathered the courage to take the first step, that man you talked about would probably do it for you. He would be stupid not to.

Which meant that at some point you would be seen on set, laughing and kissing some other man who probably had no idea for how long you had lusted after him. And Pedro knew that if your crush forgot what he’s got, he would be way too tempted to teach him a lesson or two about not throwing away life’s biggest treasures.

Maybe even way too tempted to put the fear of god into that man. To threaten to never dare to break your pretty little heart.

But you had good taste in most things. And the man you were talking about asking out was probably good. More than good. He probably was respectful in public and would make you scream his name in private. Buy you a nice dress and later rip it off your body. Pick you up to take you places and then wait patiently for you to come back to him.

You deserved the best. And you were probably way too good for that boy you liked. Granted, Pedro thought you were way too good for basically everyone, including himself, but he also wasn’t one of those men that would pass on an amazing woman all because “she’s too good for him”.

Nah. He knew he would greedily accept your love and lust if only you offered. He might have thought you were too good for him but he also knew there were many things he could provide for you. He was successful, had money, a stable job, he was mature and wouldn’t play any games. Besides, he was damn near sure he loved you and even with you reciprocating just half of that love and affection, it still would be perfect.

- What’s your add-

Once he looked over to where you were watching him just a minute ago, Pedro found you fast asleep with your head pressed against the window. His jacket, way too big for you, had fallen down your shoulder, revealing that distractingly little napkin you bravely called a dress.

Shit.

This was definitely not good.

If he had to bring you back to his home, he knew he would see ghosts of you every time he stepped inside his own house. And that would be bad. Right now you were already everywhere at work, he couldn’t afford to let you make yourself at home in his private space too. Damage would take months to undo.

He contemplated waking you up but even then there would be no guarantee that you would even remember where you lived in this condition.

Pedro started driving towards his own home slower than necessary, hoping you would wake up at some point and give him your address.

All he could hope for was that Oscar had already left because, otherwise, Pedro would never hear the end of this...

Shitshitshit.

Your head was hurting even before you opened your eyes. That was never a good thing. Once you did, you were met with a semi-dark room that was vaguely lit by a small lamp left on on the nightstand.

Where the fuck where you?

This looked way too homey to be a hotel and way too impersonal to be someone’s bedroom. You lifted the thick blanket that was draped over you to check out if you weren’t missing any clothes. Or some more important things, like body parts.

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion when you were met with the same light blue dress you had worn at the club with just more wrinkles in it now. All you were missing where the boots that you saw placed by the bed.

You checked the small alarm clock on the nightstand.

5:06 AM.

It was early.

On a day off, you probably wouldn’t have woken up this early but your body had most likely dealt with the alcohol in your system and had woken up naturally once you had sobered up.

Then you noticed the small note placed next to the clock.

I’m not sure how much you remember but I picked you up from a club. You didn’t give me an address before passing out, so I brought you home with me. You’re in my guest bedroom. I’m in the one down the hall. I got you some aspirin and water. And some clothes.

Pedro.

There was something else written on the paper but it was scribbled out. You lifted the note and placed it before the small lamp, letting the light shine through.

Cute dress.

You smiled, however that smile lasted for exactly one second before you remembered the conversation in the car. You had asked Pedro on a date. He had given you the “there’s more fish in the sea” speech.

God.

You had excused your bravery with “you can live today and be embarrassed tomorrow” but now, when tomorrow was finally here, you weren’t sure it was actually worth it.

Thank god you didn’t work closely with Pedro because this would be ten times more awkward if you were an actress.

You quickly changed into the clothes Pedro had left for you. It was a white t-shirt with something spelled in a foreign language you didn’t understand. The shirt reached down to your knees and covered more than your dress had. You could technically leave in just the t-shirt but your sudden sobriety would probably result in you freezing to death so you decided to wear sweatpants as well. You rolled up the ends of the pants that were too long, threw a glance in the mirror and decided that you looked presentable enough.

Once you left the guest room with the dress still in your hand, you tried to find out if Pedro had already woken up. It seemed unlikely. It was very early.

And that seemed to be the truth, as none of the lights were on in neither the kitchen nor the living room. Or in the hallway.

Thank god the key was still in the door and you didn’t have to wake him up to unlock the door. You carefully tiptoed through the hallway and sneaked out through the front door, leaving nothing but a vague scent of your perfume and a note on the living room table.

Thank you. Truly. You have no idea how grateful I am. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

That’s exactly how Pedro found your note three hours later when he woke up. Note had no name. Apparently, you didn’t assume he rescued women every night and didn’t think he would mix you up with someone else.

As if he ever could.

He was quite grateful to have missed you, in case you remembered how he had come onto you in the car. He didn’t want a pitying glance and you saying sorry, as if you had anything to be sorry about.

Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

Pedro let out a bitter laugh. That’s what you sign at the bottom of a work email, in hopes the recipient never truly reaches out for anything. You just felt like you owed him.

three weeks later

Pedro felt somebody brush a makeup brush over his temple to add some last touches before the filming started. People were running around, adding and taking down some props. Camera crew were doing some last check-ups. And in what Pedro thought was a torturosly ironic touch to an already important scene that caused some nerves to resurface, you were there.

In fairness, you weren’t here on your own and by your own wish. Some people of the PR and social media management teams were here, hoping to take some photos of behind the scenes for marketing.

And they were all pretty irrelevant because his eyes didn’t leave you for one second.

Pedro, Bella and some of the others were placed good ten meters from where you were standing by the door of the room that seemed to shrink every second. You were either unaware of his intense gaze or simply ignored it.

Pedro didn’t know which one would piss him off more.

There weren’t many things that didn’t irritate him these days. Oscar had started to call it Y/N withdrawal. As if he was an addict. A junkie who’s been cut off from his favorite drug of choice.

At first, Pedro was understanding. You probably felt weird you had clocked him liking you and wanted space. Fine. He would be an asshole not to give you space. Then he called you but the call always went to voicemail. On week two he had the first PR dinner since ‘the incident’ and when you didn’t show and had sent one of your assistants in your place, it only soured Pedro’s mood. The assistant had lied about you not feeling well but when you were still nowhere to be seen on the next meeting – and the next – he knew it was an excuse.

You were making excuses.

Week three took the crown when at one of the advertisement meetings that was mandatory for all cast and production team members, you had apparently ‘had a doctor’s appointment’.

Now he was pissed at the whole world and especially himself for fucking this up. You were a smart girl and he should’ve expected you to put two and two together that night. And, in addition, he was just a tiny bit pissed at you for not giving him a chance to apologize.

When you excused yourself and went into the kitchen, Pedro quickly stood up.

- Sorry, - he murmured to the makeup artist. – I’ll be right back.

Filming was set to start in ten minutes.

That was all he needed to say the things that needed to be said.

You were facing the open fridge when Pedro walked in. You read something that was written on the side of what looked like a protein shake.

You looked good. There were no signs of tiredness in your eyes. No sluggish movements. No yawning.

That was good, Pedro tried to tell himself.

Would it hurt for you to be a little affected that he was absent from your life for three whole weeks?

Then his eyes caught a thin bracelet around your wrist. It was shiny and had a minimalistic heart charm on it.

Pedro recalled Oscar once mentioning getting something similar to his wife because “the only time women wear heart jewelry is if it’s gifted by a man who’s interested”.

It was quite a big assumption that the bracelet was, one, a gift, two, from a man, and three, that it was the same moron you wanted to date. And yet it only fueled Pedro’s irrational jealousy and anger.

He let go of the door and it fell shut with a loud bang.

You jumped.

- It’s really unprofessional, you know, - Pedro accused. – This behavior of yours lately.

It only took a second for you to go from a startled look to a glare. You put the drink back in the fridge and shut the door. Loudly.

How matching.

- Excuse you? – you pushed back.

- I get that you’re avoiding me and that’s fine but you also have a job to do, - he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. – You’ve missed several PR meetings and allowed your underage intern to replace you.

You chuckled under your breath and looked away.

So that’s what this was about...

- So you feel a bit neglected because an intern – highly skilled, might I add, - was attending a few of the meetings? Is he not good enough for you?

Pedro looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.

- I don’t care if he’s as useless as a toddler – don’t change the subject!

You blew away a strand of your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

God you looked hot angry.

When you tried to side-step him and leave, Pedro followed your movements until his back hit the door, leaving you without an escape. He leaned against it, wrapped his right palm around his left wrist and looked down at you.

- You’re avoiding me, - he was glaring at you.

You glared back.

- No shit.

Pedro had expected more resistance. Or more excuses. He definitely expected you to look at him with a confused stare and say ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. Now that you had done none of that, it felt a bit weird to “confront” you because you had had every right to avoid him.

- I’m just making sure you don’t get a write-up for skipping work, - even though the words were genuine, the tone was rude and you recoiled.

You looked up at him as if he’d slapped you.

- Are you threatening to snitch on me for skipping few meetings?

His eyes widened.

Shit.

- That’s not wh-

- Fuck you.

Now he looked like you had slapped him.

This was going downhill and fast. He had never accused anybody of bad work ethics and you had never cursed at someone for essentially doing nothing wrong, really.

You had spent three weeks, trying to soothe your ego. But rejection still stung. And, for the first time in your life, your personal feelings had affected your professional life. There was no excuse for that.

So you exhaled, counted to ten, got to five and decided to push your emotions down. You didn’t actually believe that Pedro would ever attempt anything to harm your career but he was still a big star and, would somebody come across this very unprofessional conversation, your future job opportunities might be in jeopardy.

- Listen, I’m sorry, okay? – you said, then quickly added. – For missing those meetings.

You didn’t want to voice that you were also apologizing for taking rejection badly.

Even though, you were.

- Won’t happen again.

His eyes softened.

- I’m sorry too, okay? – he lifted his hand to place it on your shoulder or upper arm but decided against it in the last second and let it fall back against his side.

You laughed. Genuinely.

- What are you sorry for?

- For what I said in the car, - he explained.

Your eyes returned to the startled expression that they were in when he first came in. You had wanted to avoid that night but he had brought it up voluntarily. He could see your prey-like expression and shook his head:

- I didn’t mean... – he got quiet for a second. – That would be a lie. I did mean it. But I think I could’ve worded it better. Maybe. Or explained it to you when you were sober...

I didn’t mean... That would be a lie. I did mean it.

His words, even though soft and placating, still grazed your heart like a knife.

You could respect him for not leading you on.

Leading someone on was still worse than letting somebody down gently.

Be a big girl and accept defeat like a champ, you motivated yourself.

- That’s fine. It didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t mean anything.

You had realized he liked you, damn near loved you, and it didn’t mean anything.

His love meant nothing.

Pedro swallowed and nodded. When you gestured towards the door that he was still blocking, he stepped aside, letting you leave.

- Did you feel harassed by me? – he asked before you left.

You laughed. But when you realized he was dead-ass serious, your smile fell.

- What?

- In my car. That night. Did you feel harassed by me?

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Even though it was absurd for him to ask this, you felt warmth engulf your heart.

He’s making sure you didn’t feel unsafe with him...

God.

He’s gonna make a great partner to someone someday...

- God no, - you grinned, trying to put him at ease.

- You sure? – he asked.

- Of course, - you gave him a bittersweet smile. – How could I have felt harassed? Nothing happened.

Nothing happened, as in, I asked you out and you turned me down, simple as that.

Nothing happened, as in, you figured I liked you and that realization meant nothing, I still mean nothing to you.

When week four rolled in, things had went back to normal. The weird kind of normal. The professional kind of normal. You were present in all PR meetings you needed to attend, Pedro went out of his way to treat you like a friend.

He had started bringing these weird mini cupcakes from around where he was living. Every meeting, he would show up and give them out to all, usually five or six, attending persons. He would never skip you, giving you exactly the same amount of pleasantries, sweets and eye contact as to every other person from the cast and PR teams. It was as if he had timed your interactions to make sure you felt identical to everybody else here.

You translated his actions as he’s making sure to drive home the point of “I treat everybody like this, don’t make this weird, you’re not special in that sense”.

He translated his actions as making sure you saw that even after you rejected him, he still wouldn’t be passive-aggressive towards you and wouldn’t exclude you from anything.

“Don’t make things weird” had become a motto for both of you, at this point. This was exactly why Pedro had advised Oscar to also invite you to the party he was throwing in honor of ending the shooting of one of Oscar’s movies. Even though Pedro knew you would show up all dolled up and, most likely, with a plus one, as suggested the invitation.

And “don’t make things weird” was exactly why you had accepted, even though the last time you had attended a formal function, it had ended with you at a club and with no ride or money.

You had showed up in a black sleeveless dress that reached your knees. Pedro had had exactly one drink and he was using the hell out of it as an excuse why he couldn’t – and wouldn’t – take his eyes off you. The dress was simple and maybe exactly because of that your own beauty shone through more than usual when there was nothing to distract people from it.

Then you turned towards the small home bar and his eyes slid over your frame, landing on the dress’ very deep slit. This time it was on the behind of your dress’ skirt.

You and the fucking slits. Making every piece of clothing look like it was designed specifically for you...

- Thank god moods are not contagious because this would be the saddest happy event ever, - Oscar’s hand landed on his friend’s shoulder, as he followed Pedro’s gaze down to where you were standing.

Pedro unintentionally moved to block you from his friend’s eyes which came as a surprise to both. It was very clear that Oscar had no negative or positive intentions regarding you so it was even more weird when Pedro felt small pang of jealousy when he saw the bottle of wine you had gifted Oscar for hosting the party.

Oscar raised his eyebrows, amused.

As if asking, really?

You, on the other hand, were doing everything to avoid Pedro that evening. He looked good. He looked so handsome even though he was one of the very few men here who had chosen to wear a sweater instead of a suit or a dress shirt. You definitely needed a distraction and given how it had ended with drinking last time you got drunk, you avoided alcohol like it was the plague, only drinking virgin cocktails.

The biggest problem with avoiding someone is that that person is living in your head rent free, in order for you to be where they are not. Which meant that before you avoid them in a room, you have to check specifically for them. The biggest support for you in this was the fact that Pedro seemed to avoid you as well, so it was quite easy to keep your distance.

- Is there a guest I’m not aware of? – Oscar humored lightly. – Or are you stalked by someone?

Only the ghost of your best friend.

You smiled, shook your head and asked a few questions about the movie to whose ending this function was dedicated to. After some time he excused himself and said to go look for his wife but before he left, Oscar casually threw out:

- I’m sorry things are weird between you and Pedro right now, - he seemed apologetic.

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Pedro had clearly told him about what had happened.

It was already embarrassing enough for you to realize that Pedro had been sober that night and remembered every word your drunk self had confessed. And, to add insult to injury, the rejection still kinda stung. But he had clearly told everything to another man. And that one made you even more upset because you knew Oscar by reputation only but that reputation was quite good. So he probably felt sympathy for your little groupie act by asking out someone clearly out of your league.

You averted your eyes. How many other people knew?

- Look, he’s a grown ass man, he’ll be fine, - Oscar put his hand on your shoulder in a pacifying manner. – It’s just that this was his longest crush ever so it will take more time than usual...

Because you actively tried to block out his voice, the words didn’t register at first. And, once they did, they still didn’t make much sense.

- But it will-

- What did you just say?

Your tone was harsh and it made Oscar do a double-take.

- I... I’m not trying to pressure you into anything by what I said about being his longest crush, if that’s what you meant. I promise.

Your eyes searched his face for any signs of amusement or humor... or confusion. When you didn’t find any, you put down your drink and turned your full attention towards him.

- What did he tell you happened that night?

Oscar looked at you like you were a child asking to explain the alphabet.

- I’m not sure I should-

- He clearly told you something! – you raised your voice – not loud enough to be heard by everyone but enough to make some of the closest people turn heads.

Oscar nodded:

- All he told me was you figured out he liked you. And you don’t like him back, - Oscar used the tone he probably used with his kids. – And that’s fine. You have every r-

- What kind of fairy tale did he fed you? – your first thought was that Pedro had lied to his friend.

But why would he ever do that? What could he possibly get out of telling people you were the one who rejected him? Letting someone down wasn’t a crime and it didn’t make you a bad person.

- He rejected me! I straight up asked him out and he gave me the whole speech about there being men who would be oh so lucky to date me. And then he kept on friend-zoning me for a month just for funsies. Making sure I knew my place was with all the other people who worked for him!

When you turned to leave – and maybe give that free alcohol a shot or two – Oscar unceremoniously grabbed your upper arm and turned you back.

- That can’t be true, Y/N! You were the one drunk! Are you sure you remember everything okay?

You rolled your eyes, trying to pull your arm away.

- I was drunk, not stupid! I know rejection when I receive one!

Oscar’s grasp wasn’t hurting you or anything but it probably looked like you were fighting from afar, at this point.

- Look, Y/N, calm down, - he lowered his voice so other people wouldn’t hear a thing. – All he told me was that you had confessed liking someone you worked with, and-

- And who do you think that someone from work is, genius?

You could almost hear gears turning in Oscar’s head.

- So... When he said that you had asked if... When you were wondering if he would date you, it wasn’t because...

You waited.

- ... it wasn’t because you were insecure about nobody being interested in you?

- Why would I give a shit if other people were interested in me?

It was a good thing you were sober because it was taking a good amount of time to understand this even sober. Your eyes widened when you finally put the pieces together.

The way Pedro looked almost crushed when you had interrupted him to silence him in the car.

Please don’t. I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

Could he had mistaken it for rejection?

You silencing him out of respect so you didn’t have to tell him you didn’t want to date him? Did he thought that you were thinking his ego couldn’t handle being rejected by someone who was not rich or famous?

Shit.

You tried to find his pink sweater somewhere in the crowd. He couldn’t have gone home already, could he? You had relatively little knowledge of the layout of Oscar’s house so your best shot was to run into Pedro somewhere.

Your wish manifested a bit too literally, when you roughly rounded a corner and ran straight into someone.

Pedro’s fingers wrapped around your upper arm in the same manner Oscar’s hand had just mere seconds ago. Just to drive home the point of your attraction to him, a small shot of electricity shot through your arm whereas nothing even similar had happened when his friend had touched your arm.

- Careful, - he steadied you and then removed his hand.

When you looked up, you noticed that he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You thought you had gotten over this awkwardness...

Guess not.

With music still sounding throughout the house, you looked around, grabbed the front of his sweater and pushed him into one of the many guest bedrooms here. Once you closed and locked the door, you turned towards Pedro who was looking a bit thrown out of the boat.

For one moment, nobody said anything. Then you pushed down the dress that had ridden up your thighs while you were frantically looking for him throughout the house, and stepped closer to him.

The height difference was always a turn on for you but right now it did nothing but annoy.

- Sit down, - you commanded.

He took a step back and sat down on the bed.

When he looked up at you, you realized that you probably shouldn’t have asked him to do that. Your foggy brain finally decided to give you back few of the memories missing from that night month ago.

When he had gently lowered you onto the bed and you had finally woken up just in time to see him drop down on his knees to take off your boots. Out of concern, he had looked up at you with a very similar expression as he was having right now. With his lids lowered, eyes dark and pupils dilated.

When his brows furrowed in confusion, unaware of your flashbacks, you snapped out of it.

- Why does Oscar think I rejected you in your car that night? – you demanded before you lost your courage.

Pedro looked away.

You had had a long day at work today and still most of your energy had went into dodging Pedro at every corner, trying to not even look at him, while simultaneously keeping an eye on him at all times to not accidentally get close. Your patience had worn out long before you got here.

You unceremoniously grabbed his chin and turned his head back towards you.

- Look, I’m sorry I told him, - Pedro raised his eyes to meet yours. – I needed to tell someone and you were avoiding me and refused to even look at me!

You shook your head and tried to step back before he grabbed your hand in both of his.

- I’m sorry.

- What are you even sorry for? – you ripped your hand from his. – For lying?

When all he did was stare up at your in confusion, you took a step back to keep some distance.

- Do you get pity points or something for act-

Pedro stood up and you lost any advantage you had due to height. When he advanced towards you and you still stepped back, he caught your wrist, refusing to let you leave.

- Stop running from me! – he demanded. – Talk to me!

Fine.

- Fine, - you still tugged on your arm and he still didn’t let go so at some point you had to give up on it and leave your hand in his grasp.

- Tell me why you were avoiding me for a month, - he used a painfully soft tone as if afraid you would run at the very first sign of confrontation.

You were silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to sound like a mature adult.

- I guess... – you sighed and decided to just get over it. – I was hurt that you weren’t interested in me when I asked you out that night after you picked me up. I was butt hurt and it wasn’t fair to you because you have ever-

You didn’t get to finish when he closed the small distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. You would’ve pulled back by surprise if not for Pedro’s hand cupping the back of you neck.

Your heart seemed to simultaneously skip a beat and stop altogether. After the initial shock, you slid your hand into Pedro’s hair and lightly pulled him back by it.

Amusement danced in his eyes with a light shake of his head.

- To think we could’ve done this weeks ago, - he laughed.

You felt a bit giddy inside, still not really comprehending every piece of this misunderstanding but, in your defense, it probably had been quite hard to catch any love signals that night when you were wasted.

- You want me to ask you out again? – you proposed.

- Nah, - he shook his head. - I’ll do the honors, - he cleared his throat. – You’re going on a date with me.

You cocked your head.

- Are you asking or telling?

- I assumed you were a sure thing, drunk words being sober thoughts and all that...

This felt a bit too good to be true but you weren’t going to question it. Once you both left the guest room, with Pedro’s hand still wrapped around yours, and turned the corner to return to the party, you found Oscar leaning against the wall in the hallway with a drink in his hand and an amused look in his eyes.

- No freaky business under my roof, - he gave his friend with a stern look. – That’s like the only rule I have.

Only when his eyes found your intervened hands, he chuckled under his breath.

- Love must be hard when you’re both idiots, huh?

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal #imagine #oscar isaac

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bi-badass-geek · 11 days

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Hades 1 vs Hades 2 Designs

● Hermes besides Hypnos was first character that made me think when i saw him oh some time has passed since Zag's escapes indeed, makes you feel that time skip. In this particular debate between those i'm really digging both but if needed to say which i prefer would go with second. I feel it should be said he sure rolls nicely with longer hair i would say darker outfit too but that's probably because pallet that's used for levels.

Ps. I saw post that mentioned how his ring is the same as ones Charon is wearing in first game and if it's a hint at something i'm here for it!

● Zeus for this god specifically there is discourse about how his pose is less dynamic and oh boy if i don't agree with that so much. In first game you see him and his look makes you think yeah this is the king of gods while in second game man is just there with posture i take often because i'm useless gay that don't know what to do with my hands and feels like they took all this might and put it into chiseling his nipples & abs into his golden chestplate. Not to mention the detail of missing the iconic bolt! Don't think it needs to be said but 100% would pick Hades 1 design out of those options.

● Poseidon the King of the Sea another example in my humble opinion where they went with flattening that dynamic looks exchanging it for man that just standing there chilling which is good for him but where first screams cool uncle second one goes uncle that wants retirement. I really like how we can see the trident now tho and need to point out his outfit sure got more print on it. When it comes down to pointing out which one is the winner in my eyes it would be 2020 one.

● Aphrodite if she wasn't the one that got thrown into drama because people double standards and hypocrisy. Design from first game and the pose straight up makes you think of love, lust, seduction all the things that are associated with said goddess. As for Hades 2 version i have no clue why it feels like this considering it's actually the opposite because we can see armor on her legs now but she feels less covered for me, do i find it negative or in any way problematic? Not one bit let the woman show off all her assets all day long! Really love the adds of her weapon and shield makes you immerse in the store of oh fights are happening around these parts. From seduction to i stand here at the ready kinda vibe and i'm really digging it.

Ps. Another post i read was about fact that her war paint i will call it (not 100% sure if that is it or just line for the giggles) is reference to Ares and considering her myth i really like that touch!

● Hypnos was the first OG i saw and was like man not only catching up on his sleep but also got such glow up i absolutely adore the design. Not to say he looked bad in Hades 1 but there it was like okay nice to Hades 2 like Damnnn and his lil helpers that keeps him up! Love the fact that of all things they made him be tucked into his cape like burrito.

Ps. I really do hope by the end of the game we get to wake him up so he can try out that nectar that we all leave there waiting.

● Chaos so many things to say and at the same time silence says it all. Seen people focusing on fact some out there call them he or how it's a downgrade from previous but don't even elaborate why they think that because everyone has right to have their own preference but at least put it into words instead of going trash next..there was also notion how they resemble Meg and while i see where people get that idea from for sure before reading that my mind didn't went there at all. I think both designs really work with someone who is primordial originator and how time goes so can their form. I find it very fascinating that they put old skeleton with new one and adore galaxy under suit makes me think of Nyx right away and how they're connected. Can totally see how between those two gamers got major stance that left reminds them more of male and right of female beings but at the end of the it chaos is chaos. Gotta take chair routine from Meg while they at it! The face on the shoulder surely throws me in loop tho fits? Sure. Does it disturb me in micro scale? Yes. About frames and poses don't have much to say cause both caption the essence of i mind my business everything unrelevant until i say so.

Ps. I know it's about physical aspect but let me say Chaos roasting Mel about how her brother is amusing one out of two Hades spawns is living rent free in my brain.

#Hades 2 #Hades 2 spoilers #games #I know i'm missin Demeter and Artemis but those ladies do be hating me with showing up since i planned to make this post #Funny enough they both don't want to show in Hades 1 now lol #will add them when i finally manage to grab ss of said individuals but in short i like Demeter better in H2 while Artemis works as is #in both games #Hades Zeus #Hades Hypnos #Hades Aphrodite #Hades Chaos #Hades Poseidon #Hades Hermes #while all that is said it's just purely my preference and i think in both games they're looking to use such lame expression good #so i ain't hating on either #I keep dying to sirens so there is probably more i haven't seen so if i catch anythin besides those i will update as it goes #i downloaded Hades again just for that rip my disc aint got any space lmao #feel free to come yell about Hades into my dms i only doin it to void at the moment which is tragic yall

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accio-victuuri · 6 days

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5/16/24 LRLG post + interpretations ❤️💛💚

so it’s not enough that we’ve been struggling for the past days, they really put meaning to the saying of “when it rains it pours”. at least they let people sleep and then released this in the morning. it is an unusual posting time cause it’s usually evening or even late like 1:00 AM but not this early.

original link from the rumor house is here. i will omit some parts and just explain what happens but i tried to preserve the integrity of the post. all of this is fake. if i missed some cpn related to this, feel free to comment or just reblog and add on. enjoy ^^

XZ: "Do I have to buy the flowers myself? I can't spend hundreds of dollars."

WYB: “You don’t need to buy it and use it at home. The bottle is also pretty.”

XZ: 🙄

WYB: “Your skills are really top-notch now.”

XZ: "Why don't you try to be more yin and yang?"

WYB: "Well done. Well done."

XZ: “Don’t let me go if you don’t have any symptoms”

WYB: "You know if I have a fart or not, I'm so awesome."

XZ: "gun"

WYB: 😘

XZ: "There is also gas in the mouth"

WYB: 🙄

XZ: "Hey, your skills are also top-notch."

WYB: “I can’t compare to you, but practice makes perfect”

XZ: “It’s boring.

WYB: “Come and play”

XZ: "If you don't want to play, you won't come from xx"

👧: "Looking for me, I won't delay the fun of you two"

WYB: "Then shall we leave?"

👧: “I also know that practice makes perfect”

WYB: “Excuse me”

XZ: "Whose number should I use?"

WYB: "I'll log in for you

Yibo really be buying useless stuff again. lol. I can only imagine him scrolling through shopping apps in between takes and ordering everything. Thank you ZZ for being the voice of reason. LOL. and them complementing each other’s skills in gaming, even the log-in, we think is for the game. && how they are trolling each other talking about gas/fart, it’s so them 😂😂😂😂

the part about the kiss emoji makes us think that wyb kissed xz but then xz had to comment like that lol and be a gremlin 😂😂😂

i saw one guess that the bottle/vase he is talking about where you can put flowers may be a souvenir from abroad that wyb gave him

WYB: XZ believes in Buddhism and doesn’t believe in anything.”

XZ: “Watch me assist”

WYB: "You are not playing support role."

XZ: "Okay, I won't go even if you call me daddy."

WYB: “Don’t help, you still have to help”

No but seriously i will pay good money to watch them livestream a game lol. to those who are not familiar of why XZ was saying “call me daddy”, it’s a common quip among people. kinda like saying “im your father” cause i’m helping you and more superior than you— nothing kinky okay?

WYB: “Where did the cat come from?”

WYB: "Can I not hear it when it’s meowing at me? "

WYB: "What to record"

WYB: “So where did the cat come from?”

WYB: “Questioning you on behalf of 🌰🌰”

WYB: “Oh, great shooting”

people are thinking it’s this chonky cat that xz got attached to

and all of us are cackling at how wyb is “asking for 🌰🌰” because his dad is being a traitor and looking at other cats! 😤😤😤 yibo is so loyal to their daughter lol

WYB : super cold, i’ll eat a fried egg for you in awhile

WYB: look closely, i’m going to eat one for you (fried egg = sun that just appeared ☀️)

WYB: i ate it too early, it’s not fully cooked yet

WYB: sure, i’ll wait for you to eat a cooked one

i swear their conversations don’t make sense unless you have some background. cpfs are saying here that it means, wyb gave xz a fried egg ☀️ and then xz ate a cooked egg, the way he did it in that milan vlog

and like, if we are talking about a literal egg, that was featured as well in the Milan vlog 🍳 so could that be a bit for bobo? a literal easter egg? lol.

next part is bobo asking xz why doesn’t it look the same to him and how xz hasn’t responded to the group chat. and how he will call him later 📲

them having a gc is not even a secret but just 🥹🥹 that must be one hell of a group chat to be in.

WYB: “How was the restaurant you ate at last time? Let's go there when Zhan ge comes."

🧔‍♂️: "Their ribs are amazing, but the chops are not as good as they should be. Why don't we order one for you tonight and try it?"

i won’t include this part anymore but it’s a conversation between yibo and members of his staff about food and what to eat. i love how wyb is always thinking about xz when he sees something that is good to eat. feeding xz is really his love language. i’m cackling how they are conscious about the carbs to eat. planning what and where to eat with your loved one seems so simple but really special too. there were talks about fruits, which we know what xz is fond of eating in CQL BTS. ( sorry for the screenshot lol xiao zhan i love youuuu. you have no bad angle! )

there was also a part that wyb was telling them to buy blueberries and the staff is like: "Just tell me what you want to eat and I'll give you whatever you want" but yibo was all "Let's see what he wants to eat" 🥹🥹🥹 it all depends on XZ.

and then this scene in the wedgwood ad. which is most likely a coincidence. but still 👀

WYB: “Look at this big pot”

XZ: Saw it

WYB: "I won't let you try the dishes in advance."

XZ: "If you want to eat, just say so and don't take the blame."

👧: Boss Xiao, we have already eaten it.”

XZ: "Grateful and thankful"

WYB: "Why are you so happy?"

XZ: You guys are going to have another meal in two days.

WYB: ☺️☺️🤭☺️🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍

XZ: "Eat quickly and fight again when you get back."

WYB: “🫡Received”

XZ: "Idiot, hang up, bye"

WYB: "Bye"

with this fake rumor i feel so soft cause having a meal together is something they look forward to. i especially loved this comment from a cpf which u think perfectly explain why this romantic: But I especially understand how dad feels. . . When you are in a long-distance relationship, if you already have a date for your next meeting, you will really feel like you don’t want to taste the delicious food you want to eat with you before meeting! Just like "I want to share the surprise of the first bite with you" is the real thing. I only want to taste one-fifth of the taste. I want to wrap this little bit of deliciousness with the anticipation of seeing you soon. I want to see you soon. I have been stuffed to the brim these last few days, so that the day I see you I will explode with happiness!” 🥹🥹🥹

next part is wyb talking to a staff about eating and then this one, yibo! give your assistant a vacation! and well the boss is not taking a vacation too sooooo….

👧: “When can I take a vacation?”

WYB: "Anytime, if you have anything to do, just take a break."

👧: “Want to take a big vacation”

WYB: “It’s early then”

👧: “This year’s Qingming Festival and May Day are all in vain”

WYB: "Have arrangements been made for May Day?"

and the final part of the rumor contribution:

WYB: "Where"

WYB: “Okay, be safe.”

WYB: "I don't have time to ask you to keep the fake house.

WYB: "good"

-END

#bjyx #yizhan #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #eversince i joined this pit i have never known peace 😌😌😌#is it over yet or are they gonna hammer us again??? 🔨🔨🔨

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asksythe · 1 year

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Dead languages and maybe Wei Ying is long-lost royalty

Today I had a discussion with @pakhnokh regarding why Wei Wuxian didn’t know the deeper layer of meaning behind the Lan forehead band. It was a long discussion on Twitter, so I figured I should just make a post here and leave this information out for anyone who might find it useful.

To start off: The reason why Wei Ying didn't know the deeper layer of meaning of the Lan forehead band was in the book. But it was written in a very opaque way, in one single throw-away line. In the book, when Wei Ying had to copy the Lan rules, he specifically complained that the rules were written in seal script.

The Useless Ye Olde’ Script

Seal script is a script that predated traditional Mandarin. It was infamous for being needlessly complex and having dozens, if not hundreds different dialects and writing methods. Some forms of seal script were entirely different languages altogether. When Qin Shi Huang united ancient China, he burned a lot of books and forced people to adopt a standard way to write, thus cementing traditional Mandarin as a singular language that is still used today, 2000 years after. A way to visualize how complex seal script was, is that there were 22 different ways to write the word 'sword'.

That is how mind-bogglingly complex it was. And worse, it was the source of much conflict in ancient times. To explain it simply, it was supposed to be one language. But if people could not even agree on how to write the same word, then how could they agree on more important things and cease warring against each other?

Language standardization was one of Qin Shi Huang’s greatest achievements, if not the greatest, as it laid the foundation for more peace and eventual unification in later dynasties.

This topic was made into an Academy Award-nominated movie, Hero by Zhang Yimou in 2002.

(the word ‘sword’ that Qin Shi Huang decided on, thus wiping out the other 20+ ways to write the same word)

Dating Mo Dao Zu Shi in real history (or, Wei Ying might actually be long-lost royalty)

In a very interesting turn of events, MXTX has confirmed in her latest interview in Subaru magazine, that the events of MDZS happened during Wei Jin, Southern and Northern Dynasties (commonly referred to as the Six Dynasties era by English-speaking historians, even though these two don’t perfectly line up).

Yes, the same Wei 魏 in Wei Ying 魏婴, Wei Wuxian 魏无羡.

So the events in MDZS took place in the era immediately after the fall of the Qin dynasty (caused by Qin Shi Huang’s death and his sons not being able to measure up). Therefore, Wei Ying’s generation is in a time after the language has standardized into a single form.

The Lan rules, at least the first set and the meaning of the forehead band, were written about 500 years before Wei Ying’s generation, at the founding of House Lan. So that would put it squarely in the pre-Qin, pre-lingual-standardization era.

So by Wei Ying’s time, the Lan rules were essentially written in a dead, kinda useless, and very very hard-to-read-because-it-has-some-hundred-different-dialect language.

That’s on top of the fact that it was probably written in the highest level of 书面语 shumianyu (written language) possible. I.e. extremely condensed and truncated (with zero punctuation).

So the Lan rules are more or less a very thick law book of a different nation written in the strictest, most condensed dead language that is in no way, shape, or form still in practical use for Wei Ying (and most other people not Lan). Do you feel like reading it? I don’t.

And that is why Wei Ying never figured out the original meaning of the forehead band despite having copied the rules hundreds of times (first day in class, he was already punished and sentenced to copying the rules 100 times by Lan Qiren).

Because he was just copying the words without really reading them. This was mentioned when Wei Ying asked Lan Wangji the meaning of the Lan forehead band, and Lan Wangji replied with, you have copied the rules so many times and you still don’t know?

But isn’t Wei Ying really well-read and smart, and what about the Wen book?

1/ Wei Ying is smart and well-read. There was one throw-away line in the book that mentioned his having read all the books available to him in Lotus Pier, and that he had read all kinds of trivia (including the Thousand Sores and Hundred Holes curse that got put on Jin Zixun). But it was also stated that he favored practical things or things that interested him. Lan rules in dead, extremely hard to read language are… well… yeah…

There was never any mention in canon where he remembered specific Lan rules unless it was literally beaten into him by teenage Lan Wangji.

2/ In the novel, the Lan rules are singled out as the only materials written in seal script. The Wen books were standard issued to everyone who took part in the Wen education camp. So the chance that it was written in seal script is low to none.

Wei Ying is not the only person who doesn’t know the meaning of the Lan forehead band

Jiang Cheng didn't know either. Jin Ling didn't know either. During the Wen archery competition, when Wei Ying pulled off Lan Wangji's forehead band, he did ask Jiang Cheng what the hell was that, when Lan Wangji and other Lan members reacted like he did something shameful. Jiang Cheng replied with, how the hell would I know? Their house has so many rules. Just stop poking them.

Jin Ling didn't know until the other Lan teenagers told him. The only characters who know this in canon are all members of Lan house. The impression that Wei Ying is the only one who doesn't know is 100 percent fanon. Keep in mind both Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling are clan heirs, so their education and knowledge of other houses absolutely are not low.

In fact, the novel specifically shows that.....the rest of the cultivation world is not that clear on the actual specifics of Lan rules either. This is shown when Jin Zixun pressured Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji into drinking wine, a clear violation of Lan rules, and the rest of the cultivators in the banquet cheered him on.

These cultivators were also heads of Houses or very high-ranking members. Many of them would have studied in Cloud Recess. So again, people who have high education… still know shit all about the actual specifics of Lan rules beyond a vague, general monk-like impression.

About the only other person aside from Wei Ying (and Lan members) who knew the specific rule that Lans do not drink in that banquet was Jin Guangyao, a character whose trademark is high intelligence and extreme social savvy (plus having roomed with Lan Xichen and taken care of him for unknown amount of time right before the Sunshot campaign)

Are there secret parts of the Lan rules?

No. The Lan rules are public. The book is very clear on this. All Lan rules are carved into a massive stone placed at the foot of the mountain where Cloud Recess is, where anyone passing through or coming into House Lan can see it.

This rule stone was first mentioned when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian met for the first time. Wei Ying complained that he didn’t know the rules and why are there so many things forbidden in the Lan rules? Lan Wangji replied with, rules are written on the stone. Go read it yourself.

The second time it was mentioned in the book, was Lan Qiren’s first class. The first thing he did was complained that even with the stone and rules being in open space, nobody bothered to read. So he will read the rules now.

The book mentioned at least two different sets of Lan rules that both need to be obeyed: 礼则篇 Lize Pian (Book of Rites) 上义篇 Shang Yi Pian (Book of Justice). Whether the rules are separated further into more sets or not is unknown.

Why are some Lan rules better known than others?

Because Lan rules are based on 克己復禮 Keji Fuli, a real-life Confucius asceticism that calls for the restraint/purge of one’s ego and to return to the core rites. This is also newly confirmed in MXTX’s new interview, though it has been more or less heavily suggested in the book itself, with House Lan being known as the House of Gentlemen.

Gentlemen here is not the Western ideal of Gentlemen, but rather a Confucius ideal and set of values. Confucius is the person who created this ideal in the first place.

So it’s not that some rules are better known, but rather the entire image of Lan House is a huge pointer as to how they live their life: with great restraint.

#mxtx #mdzs #Wei Ying #Wei Wuxian #Lan House #Lan Wangji #mo dao zu shi

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rollinouttahere-writes · 20 days

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Lucky Break Chapter 6

Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader

3.6 words

Beginning / Previous / Next (to be written)

Sorry that this is a little late and kinda short. On the bright side, the next chapter will be posted a few days early, so there will be less of a wait for the next one.

Unsurprisingly, convincing a bunch of kids that you aren’t actually a band of cannibalistic pirates is not an easy task to accomplish. Especially not when Luffy and Zoro are only adding to it. It only stopped when the old man running the inn interrupted the yelling and terrified screaming to say that no one was eaten.

With that established, the children were shockingly calm now, all things considered. Now that your names were cleared, all of you were lingering outside of the inn.

“Do all pirates make jokes like that?” Ninjin was gawking at Zoro. After realizing that the swordsmen had just been messing with him, his terror had morphed into awe. Now he was seeing Zoro as some hardcore pirate to aspire to be. At least he wasn’t horrendously traumatized.

Zoro rolled his shoulders and shrugged, “The cool ones do.”

The response made you roll your eyes, but it’s not like you were about to waste your precious air trying to scold him. That would truly be a useless cause. He would probably just ignore you entirely.

Luffy tapped one of the kids, Piiman, on the shoulder, “Hey, do you know where that longnose guy went?”

“Usopp?” The green haired boy hummed in thought, “He’s probably visiting Miss Kaya right now.”

“Miss Kaya?” Nami raised an inquiring brow.

“She lives in that huge house on the hill,” Tamanegi pointed at that mansion that Zoro and Nami had asked Usopp about before. Ah, that made sense now. The reason he had gotten so defensive all of a sudden was because he knew the people living there.

Nami didn’t appear to be done with her questions and pressed on, “What’s he doing over there?”

All three of the kids spoke in unison and with great enthusiasm, “Lying!”

“That’s awful!” Nami scolded the children as if she didn’t steal someone’s wallet mere minutes ago.

Ninjin was quick to leap to Usopp’s defense, “Nuh-uh! He goes over there to tell Kaya stories to make her feel better!”

“Feel better? Is she sick?”

Piiman grins proudly, “Yeah, but she’s also been really sad since her parents passed away after getting sick. Usopp tells her all kinds of fun stories to make her smile and laugh!”

Oh my god. If that wasn’t the most wholesome shit you’ve ever heard. Luffy agreed with the sentiment openly, “Oh, so he’s a really good person?” That was putting it mildly. Luffy stepped closer and crouched down next to Piiman, “Can you take us to him? I wanna talk to him again.”

All three of the children agreed and led the way towards the mansion. Your group trailed behind the trio at a leisurely pace, minus Luffy who was bouncing around and checking out every little thing he saw with significant enthusiasm.

The village was, admittedly, quite quaint. You felt charmed by your surroundings. From the looks of it, this was the village’s mainstreet. Various stores spotted either side of the path you were traversing down. A bakery, some carpentry shop, a toy store, and-

You gasp and grab onto Zoro’s arm, “Look! A doctor's office!” Without wasting a second, you run over, dragging Zoro behind you despite his protests. You come to a stop in front of the door and reach forward to open it, only to notice the sign on the door. Out, come back later.

“Shit!” Just your luck that the doctor would be out when you just so happened to be passing by! You kicked the dirt under your feet in frustration. “Do you think the doctor will be back soon?”

“How should I know?” Zoro tugged his arm free and shot you a questioning look, “And why are you dragging me with you?”

Is this guy dense? “Oh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you have a stab wound?!”

“I already told you, I slept it off.” The way Zoro rolled his eyes and spoke made it sound like you were the irrational one here. Before you could yell at him that, no, you cannot just sleep off a stab wound, he pulled up his shirt. The wound was where you remembered it being, but something was off. He was stabbed yesterday, but the wound looked like it was a week old, at the least. “See? It’s fine. Quit fussing about it.”

You’re no doctor, but you know that this can’t be right. You stare at him in shock and horror, “What are you?”

Zoro quirked a brow, “A swordsman?”

“More like an X-Men.”

Your words visibly threw him off. He frowned and his eyes narrowed. “A what?”

“A… It’s like…” Not for the first time, you found yourself confused about the meaning of words out of your own mouth. Where did that term come from? You strained yourself to track down what that word meant. “Superpowers? It’s someone with superpowers… I think?”

“So it’s someone with a devil fruit?” You guess that’s about right. Maybe you just got mixed up? You nod at Zoro’s statement. Zoro sighs and fixes his shirt, “Then just say that.”

“Yeah… guess I just got confused.” You scratch the back of your head. Calling your current state of mind confused was the understatement of the century. The mysteries of your mind shall go on to confound you another day.

“Hey! Are you guys coming or not?” Nami had stopped and turned to face you and Zoro with her hands on her hips.

“Come on, maybe the doctor will be back in before we leave this island.” One of Zoro’s hands rested on his swords, while the other was on your upper back and firmly encouraging you to keep walking. Having no reason to object, you go along with it.

The walk to the mansion continues, but you pay very little mind to it now. It was hard to focus on your surroundings when your mind was zeroed in on your failing memory. All of the fragments you were getting were effectively useless, at least as far as you could tell. Well, you suppose there was that inkling of a memory you got back at the restaurant, but you stomped that one out for feeling too uncomfortable. Admittedly, that was probably a stupid move. What were you going to do? Block out your whole life if it turns out it wasn’t great or something worth remembering?

Dwelling on this was far from pleasant, however necessary it may be. You sigh and look around, wanting to scope out where you are now. The town was long gone, and you could see a tall fence not far from where you were, separating the estate behind it from the rest of the community. A ways away from where you guys were was the gate that allowed entrance. Two guards were posted outside of it, and you doubted that they would let your group in.

Tamanegi ran up to the bars of the fence and pointed through them at a tree right next to the home, “See, he’s talking to Kaya over there!”

You step closer to the fence and look where he’s pointing. Sure enough, you can see Usopp sitting on a branch next to a window. There’s a pale, blonde woman in the windowsill, who you’re assuming is Kaya. It’s all well and good that you’ve tracked down Usopp, but it looks like you’re going to have to wait for him to leave before you can talk to him. Sneaking into the estate would be out of the question, obviously.

Then you look over and see that Luffy has stretched his arms to reach the top of the fence and was taking some steps back. His rubbery arms were taught with tension. You gawk at him, not liking the look of this one bit, “What are you doing?”

Rather than anyone trying to answer this question, Luffy keeps stretching his arms while everyone else grabs onto him. Your voice raises, “What are all of you doing?” Nami grabs your arm, forcing you into whatever weird-ass plan was in the works here. You squirm and look around frantically, “What are we doing? What’s the plan here?”

The next thing you knew, Luffy jumped up and used his arms to send all of you sailing over the fence and through the air. Naturally, you’re screaming at the top of your lungs. But the children are too, so at least you aren’t alone in your terror. Instead of landing not far beyond the fence, you guys were maintaining a high speed that was bringing you closer and closer to the home. Mercifully, instead of crashing through the walls like a wrecking ball, you landed mere feet from the structure. People were colliding with the ground all around you. Nami had let go of you at some point, and you fell onto Luffy and then bounced off of him. His body had done a little bit to soften the blow, but it still knocked the wind out of you. You groaned in pain and curled into a ball while trying to catch your breath and make your head stop spinning.

Tamanegi crouched down next to you and poked your shoulder, “Are you okay?” Aside from some grass stains on his clothes, he looked completely fine. Ah, the resilience of youth. Blinking the spots out of your eyes, you force yourself up onto your feet while nodding wordlessly. By the time your ears stop ringing, you can make out Usopp’s voice desperately trying to explain your group’s abrupt arrival.

Kaya was leaning out of her window and staring at all of you with apprehension and confusion. Even with only part of her upper body visible, you could plainly see how frail her build was. The poor thing looked deathly pale, it was honestly more than a little concerning.

“Oh, these guys?! They’re just… my newest crew members!” The high-pitched, nervous laugh Usopp let out did little to help make his case.

“No, we’re not.” Luffy killed that lie instantly and with zero hesitation. He stood up and brushed himself up, seemingly unbothered from you essentially body slamming him. “I wanted to ask you for a favor, actually!”

“A favor? What is it?” Kaya, for whatever reason, was actually entertaining the idea of helping out someone who just slingshotted himself and his cohorts onto her property. What a shockingly understanding person. Luffy started to ask about getting a ship, but was interrupted by someone shouting.

“Who are you people? You aren’t supposed to be here!”

You look over your shoulder and see a tall, slender man in a dark suit rapidly approaching. Judging by his appearance, you feel like you can assume he is a butler or something of the like. The second he yelled, all three of the kids shrieked and hid themselves in your obnoxious looking coat. At least it’s getting some use outside of helping you blend in with clown pirates.

The man adjusted his glasses with the palm of his hand while sneering at all of you, making absolutely no attempt to hide his contempt for your presences. Which, admittedly, is fair given that you guys are actively trespassing. He glared at the large tree by the window before calling out, “Usopp, I know you’re there.”

Usopp slinked out from behind the tree, looking like he would have his tail between his legs if he possessed one. The man stared at him coldly, “Of course someone with as troublesome a reputation as you would be involved.”

Kaya attempted to ease the situation, “Klahadore, please! He doesn’t mean any harm!” That was one hell of a name. It sounded almost comically pretentious.

Luffy was entirely undeterred by the butler’s demeanor. “We just wanted to ask that girl something.”

“You will do no such thing. All of you need to leave immediately.” His eyes narrowed at Usopp, “Especially you. Someone with a father like yours has no business being around Miss Kaya.”

“Excuse me?” Usopp was taken aback by that jagged statement.

“You’re the son of a filthy pirate. It’s distasteful for you to even be in the vicinity of the lady of the house.”

Just like that, any understanding you had for this man being irritated with your group curled up and died. He isn’t a man doing his job, he’s just some classist prick that thinks he’s better than everyone else here.

“Klahadore, stop! That’s enough!” Even Kaya sounded appalled by his behavior.

Her words did nothing to stop Klahadore, who appeared to be taking great delight in this, “You two are from entirely different worlds. I can only assume that you interact with the lady with the intent of gaining something. Money, perhaps?” The accusation stunned everyone into silence, which he took as his cue to continue, “If I’m being quite honest, I pity you. It is truly unfortunate how you’ve been forced to live since your father abandoned his family and home for nothing more than the pursuit of treasure. You must hate him for it, surely.”

Usopp stormed towards Klahadore while Kaya was yelling at her rude-ass butler to stop and apologize for his words. Usopp came to a halt right in front of him, “Don’t you dare talk about my father like that! He’s a good man!”

Klahadore smirked, “Is that what you tell yourself? Another one of your lies, presumably. Though, I suppose that a lot of people would resort to such measures if stuck with a father like that. Well, assuming that he is actually your father.”

In an instant, Usopp’s fist connected with Klahadore’s jaw and sent him back several feet. Your mouth was gaping after hearing all of that. What a dick! Get his ass, Usopp! The kids using your coat for cover all popped their heads out and looked as shocked as you were.

Usopp took several steps forward, shouting at the butler, “Shut up! I am proud of who my family is! I’m proud that my father is a pirate and chasing his dreams! I might lie and tell stories, but I’ve never exaggerated a single thing about how I feel about my blood!”

Klahadore gritted his teeth and got back up, “Just like I thought, you’re a savage that resorts to violence at the drop of a hat. I suppose you must be the son of that pirate, you’re certainly acting as such, and that’s all the proof that I need to assume that you’ve been cozying up to the lady of the house in an attempt to get her fortune.”

“Why you,” Usopp lunged forward and grabbed him by his suit and pulled back his arm like he’s about to deliver another blow.

“Stop, Usopp!” Kaya pleaded desperately with him, “Please, there’s no need for violence. Klahadore isn’t a bad person, he’s just…trying to do what he thinks is best for me.”

You shoot her a questioning look that you’re fairly certain she doesn’t even see. You’re not sure what insulting Usopp’s entire family tree has to do with “doing what’s best for her”. In your humble opinion, Usopp had every right to deck that stuck up prick one more time. Instead, he relented and backed away from him. A shame, really.

“You need to leave this place and never set foot here again.” Klahadore dusted off his clothes and was trying his damndest to look dignified despite just getting his shit rocked by a teenager.

Usopp walked past him, speaking lowly, “Fine. You don’t need to tell me twice.” He stomped away without another word, his shoulder hunched and fists clenched.

In a flurry, the trio taking refuge in your coat sprung out and ran up to Klaha-dick to defend their captain’s honor. Ninjin opened strong by calling him a stupid butler insisting that Usopp would never do any of that. Then all three of them dissolved into chanting ‘stupid head’ at him, so you’re pretty sure he’ll never emotionally recover from this.

Their brave verbal assault crumbled the second that Klahadore looked down at them. In the blink of an eye, they turned tail and returned to the sanctity of your coat. The butler’s gaze scanned over all of you with palpable disdain. He readjusted his glasses and waved an arm dismissively, “All of you need to leave, too.”

You had no problem with that. The less time spent here, the better. You carefully herded the kids hiding in your coat as you walked, which was not an easy thing to do with six more feet right under you, but you’ll manage.

After leaving the estate, you all congregated by a quiet field next to an unpopulated path. The boys have dispersed, mercifully, so you are now perched up on a fence. Luffy ran off a few minutes ago after one of the kids had told him where Usopp may have gone.

The crisp, clean air felt refreshing as you inhaled it deeply. You exhaled and tilted your head back to look up at the sky. In the back of your mind, you wonder if another weapon and mysterious note will fall out of it like in Orange Town. The note… Your hand dips into your coat pocket and digs out the folded up piece of paper. You unfold it and decide to read it again.

“Lucky”

What an interesting event

Losing your memories was not my intent

To aid in your journey

Please take this urumi

“A”

You had hoped that reading it a second time would jog your memory, but it didn’t. You still have no idea who “A” is supposed to be. Were you two supposed to be close? Was this person a mere acquaintance? A weapons dealer with very unique methods? You can’t say.

Suddenly, the paper is plucked out of your hands. Your head snaps up and you see Nami standing next to you. Her brows furrow and she flips the paper over before shooting you a confused look, “Why are you staring at a blank piece of paper?”

What? You stammer as you try to speak, “B… Blank?”

“Yeah? Why are you staring so intently at a blank piece of paper?” Nami was alternating between staring a hole into you and glancing at the paper. Her eyes were looking right where the words were, yet she was seeing nothing? How is that possible?

All you can do is stare for a moment. Then, you laugh nervously and scratch the back of your head, “Oh, right! I was… I wanted to write something down on that, but then I remembered that I don’t have a pen on me!” That sounded dumb as hell.

Nami’s expression reflected that sentiment, “Really?”

“Yeah! You know me, I’m so forgetful!” You force out another unnatural laugh while snatching the paper out of her hand to stuff it back into your pocket. Hazarding another glance at Nami, you saw her looking at you with an extremely doubtful expression. Her stare was hard and it felt like she was seeing right into your soul. Fortunately, she sighed and looked away.

“Alright, whatever you say.”

Something tells you that she’s going to bring this up again later, and you can only hope that you’ll have come up with a better excuse by then. Your mind was running in circles trying to rationalize how insane your most recent revelation was. Apparently, you have a magical piece of paper with words on it that only you can see. Sure! Why not?! This might as well happen with all the other weird shit going on right now! How your situation was able to progressively get weirder and weirder was beyond you, and at this point, you’re afraid of what else is going to happen next.

“Guys! A really weird man is backwards-walking this way!” Tamanegi comes sprinting over the hill spouting off that incredibly ominous warning.

You and your big mouth inside your head. Are you cursed? Are you experiencing the effects of a curse put on you? Hesitantly, you crane your neck to see what he’s talking about. Sure enough, you see a man wearing a blue blazer and a hat moonwalking right at you.

“Michael Jackson?”

The man stops mid moonwalk with one hand grasping his hat. He looks at you like you’re insane- which you may be, but that’s beside the point. The heart shaped sunglasses and weird cylinder-thing on his chin only make his whole vibe even stranger. His glasses slide down a little as he makes eye contact with you, “Michael Jackson? That isn’t even close to my name. I don’t know who that is, but he should only be so lucky as to be compared to me.” His neck snapped around to then regard the children, “And which one of you brats called me weird?! I’m not weird!”

“I’m going to have to side with him, you do seem pretty weird.” Nami was now focused on him, and you hoped this encounter would make her forget about the paper incident.

The totally-not-weird man did what looked like a dance move and glared at Nami, “I’m not! I’m a perfectly normal traveling hypnotist!”

“A hypnotist? That’s so cool! Can you show us something?” Piiman was staring at him hopefully, very much intrigued by the man’s profession. You just rolled your eyes. He was probably a con artist.

“What? You really expect me to show off my abilities to any snot-nosed brat who asks?” The weirdo stoops down to stare menacingly at Piiman. Then, he stands up straight and pulls something out of his pocket, “Very well, watch this ring closely. I’m going to swing this back and forth, and on the count of one, two, Jango, you’ll feel sleepy.” Well, he certainly changes his mind easily.

You quietly snorted but watched the display nonetheless. This guy was absolutely full of shit. Your eyes follow the silver ring that looks suspiciously like a blade as he starts to count.

“One. Two. Jango!”

And then you promptly passed out.

#lucky break #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece #monkey d luffy #luffy #roronoa zoro #nami #cat burglar nami #usopp #captain kuro #kaya one piece #reader insert #x reader #yandere one piece #yandere #platonic yandere

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years

Note

the post about the chess cheating is just flat out lying about a bunch of stuff by the way (i tried to explain how but it had kinda rant-y vibes for some reason so i guess i'll just leave it here? what a useless ask to send you. sorry)

Honestly every single version of that post, both for and against, has SOMETHING wrong and a bunch of people claiming other people are wrong without any sources and it's all a mess, but what's making me slowly morph from "Raised Eyebrow Disapproval" to "Actual Genuine Anger" is that absolutely no one seems to be paying attention to the important part: which is that this has rapidly become a gleeful global homophobic smear campaign against a 19 year old.

Like... I dunno, maybe this is part of my Generational Queerness, maybe this is just viscerally reminding me of George Michael being arrested, and Michael Barrymore being hounded out of public life and his career destroyed, and Julian Clary being intentionally driven off television. Each of these men were arrested or accused of other crimes. But each of them was really accused of being gay. And those stories followed this exact same pattern this one is: a sensational, lurid, gossipy and undeniably homosexual detail is taking centrepoint in every single discussion by press, pundits, critics, and public alike. The rest is secondary.

What mattered with George Michael was not the public bathroom - it was that he'd gone there to have sex with a man. What mattered with Michael Barrymore was not that someone tragically drowned in a pool at his house party - it was that the victim was his boyfriend and the party had gay sex in it. What mattered with Julian Clary was not that he told a risque joke in his comedy set - it was that he talked about being a gay queen.

What matters with Niemann is not that he cheated. It's that he "probably" used vibrating anal beads to do it. You know: like a big gross queer would.

Like... I cannot stress enough to any of you that I do not give the remotest shit, at this point, whether he has a history of online cheating, or whether his opponent actually just fucked up the game that day, or even who started the anal bead rumour and why. I could not give less of a shit if I tried. That is not even in the same league as the important part of all this. I do not care.

What I care about is the undeniably ghoulish glee with which the international press have leapt upon this and are spreading it about. What I care about is the way celebrities are wilfully spreading it about. What I care about is the way the public are sharing it with exactly the same shrill, giggly, high-on-drama hysteria that I remember them sharing about George Michael, and Michael Barrymore, and Julian Clary.

What I care about is that this is a homophobic witch hunt. A homophobic smear campaign. Against a 19 year old who may or may not even be gay, but that's definitely the direction the press (and their followers) are going to want to push this.

And I increasingly care about the way none of the rest of you seem to give a shit about that, when to me it is so luridly, flagrantly, and screamingly obvious.

I dunno. As I say: maybe this is just part of my Generational Queerness. Maybe I'm pattern matching. Maybe I'm seeing ghosts.

Maybe not.

#homophobia

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

TL;DR: AITA for using slurs to try and take them back?

Kindly asking people who arent queer or have autism/adhd ect not to vote

I have autism, Adhd, BPD and am a lesbian genderfluid person. I found out a while ago that theres people who actually try and take back words so they can't really be used against the people it was used against anymore. For example. The r word and the f word (not fuck, The other one)

I've been using them more lately to try and take em back, Yknow? I don't see anything wrong with it since I myself am autistic and apart of the lgbtq. I use it in arguments, I use it against my friends when we're playing around and pretending to be mad, And I even use it against myself at times calling myself yknow, A f and r word. I don't wanna say the actual things here incase it triggers anyone reading.

I always tag it correctly if its online or public, And I don't use them in every argument, Only if they started using stuff like that first. It's never been a problem, Until as of late. We made a new friend and they told me that I have no right to use those words, And that I'm hurting real autistic people and gay people [I don't know if they were implying I'm faking? I've been diagnosed by multiple doctors when I was little for the nerodivergency, And I've always liked using different pronouns and women since I remember]

It's begun to kinda tear our friend group apart. I'm not trying to hurt anyone, I'm trying to take it back so it can be come as useless as any insult like stupid or ugly. I want to make it more normalized so it cant hurt anyone anymore

Some still agree that I'm not really hurting anyone but now a few of my friends say until I stop they want nothing to do with me. I'm fine with not saying it around them if it makes them uncomfortable, But they say I need to stop for good.

AITA for saying these, And WIBTA for not stopping in general instead of just around them?

I'll put the word to search here incase I want this deleted

"plagiarize"

Just a note about that last line: please do not submit things intending to have them deleted later. Deleting posts is a courtesy I offer in case it becomes too dangerous or painful to have up, not something you should be planning for when you submit it.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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joelsmochi · 7 months

Text

Us Against the World

A/N: How easy is it to come back after a 4 month (unplanned) hiatus? Not easy. At all. Sorry for my absence darlings, a lot has been going on from moving to health issues to new jobs… It’s been so hectic that I am willing to admit that this piece of garbage was also being worked on over the entire 4 months I hadn’t posted. This was all I could conjure up, but I wanted to polish this off so I could move onto the next project, so I also apologize for how rushed this one kind of ends + it doesn’t have the same lighthearted tone as the first 2 parts. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading (don’t judge it too critically… I’m begging.) Also I think when I pasted this it got rid of my italicized and bolded words -.- (i am serious about italics)

warnings: 18+, kinda mean!jealous!insecure!joel, cclg/ddlg [attitude] dynamic, punishment (but it’s really a reward ;]), angst, more panty kink, some useless scenes, chance of getting caught, a little sadness and a bit cheesy, lazily proofread so expect grammar issues + typos!, i don’t wanna spoil so it ends there byeee (let me know if i missed any please!)

wc: 10k (will the length make up for how bad it is? no? ok >.<)

Read part 1 here, and part 2 here.

The bar was filled with laughter and short applause from people winning their games. It smelled slightly of stale alcohol and oak wood.

You had just walked in with Joel behind you. As you were taking in your surroundings, Joel had already seen a guy or two look you up and down. He chose not to say anything. They weren’t worth the trouble.

You both sat at the bar and ordered two beers though you weren’t necessarily trying to getting drunk tonight. You just wanted to keep your promise of making him jealous.

He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it, but when he saw your eyes go from your fresh drink to scanning the men around the bar he knew he was in for a real treat.

“You’re serious ‘bout this?” He rhetorically asked.

You only gave him part of a smile and a shrug to say and what if I am?

He half rolled his eyes and sipped his beer, immediately grimacing at its subpar taste.

“Fine. Do whateeeeever you want, little girl. Just like you always do,” he said. “Gon’ and dance for other guys. I don’t give a damn.”

You glared at him when he called you a little girl, keening a dark chuckle from him. He was poking the bear inside you, waiting for the moment you would choose to give up on your cunning idea.

You stood up out of spite and slowly walked over to a man roughly your age, clad in some lousy outfit that somehow made him stand out to you.

The teasing smirk Joel was wearing replaced itself with a scowl. You swore you felt him shooting daggers into your back as you whispered in the younger man’s ear.

“Wanna dance?”

The boy looked at you with excitement and surprise, bashfully nodding and following you when you pulled him next to the other dancing couples.

You pressed your back into his and looked everywhere except for where Joel was sitting, swaying your hips in sync with your dance partner and occasionally pressing back into his crotch gently.

Joel stared long and hard at the boy who was just using the curve of your ass to jerk off, yet when his eyes wandered to you, all he could do was think about using you like that, only with fewer clothes on.

The song ended and Joel thought it would be the end of your shenanigans; he watched as you whispered in the young man’s ear again, and once you pulled away he motioned for his friend to come over.

Another young man approached the front of you, and you gave him a flirty smile as your arms linked around his neck.

Joel was gritting his teeth so hard he was sure he heard one crack. He wanted to keep his cool, not give you the satisfaction, but watching you dance for men that were your age when he was already insecure about being thirteen years older than you pissed him off.

He knew you were just having fun, but fucking hell.

He hated seeing those idiots practically fucking hump you in the middle of the bar. They were feral and inadequate compared to Joel who knew they could never take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of.

Joel had about enough when the boy in front of you began slipping his thumbs underneath your baby tee and saw how it made you tense up so he reached in his wallet for cash to pay for the drinks. Then, he stomped over you and grabbed your arm, snatching your body from between the two men.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel growled at them before pulling you behind him. He felt you resisting his grip after entering the parking lot so he grabbed your hips and picked you up. He sat you in the passenger seat then got in himself, driving back home without saying a word.

You knew you were in for it.

Once you two made it to his place you were trying to get Joel to speak to you. He just gave you a hard look and tossed you over his shoulder without further resistance; he carried you to his bedroom, sat down, and forced you to bend over in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Jo—ow!”

He had landed a firm slap across the back of your thigh and then broke the zipper on your shorts from yanking them down. Your hips ached from the waistband digging into your bones. You tried wiggling from his grasp causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and yank it back.

He smoothed a hand over the peaks of your ass for a few seconds, not wanting to hurt his precious girl.

But then he remembered how you left him without a care in the world just to spite him.

He gave you another spank that burned furiously against your flesh and forced a cry out of your throat.

“I’ll never do it again,” you pleaded, “I swear! Joel—“

Another smack.

“Fuckin’ damn right, you won’t,” he grunted, watching your ass color red. “You wanna fuck some dumb college boy, huh?”

You whimpered and waved your feet around desperately.

Smack! “Answer me when I ask you a question. Do you wanna fuck people your own fucking age?”

You shook your head frighteningly fast, waving your feet around more as if it would get him to release your hair but his grip only tightened. “No, Joel! I only want you—just you. Please, Joel, I’m sorry.”

He tugged at your panties, not too harshly, just gently enough to create a wedge between your cheeks. You were thankful he didn’t notice your eyes roll back and the soft moan that left you from the friction against your throbbing clit and asshole.

“My ol’ ass not enough for you? S’that it?” He whispered in your ear.

“Of course not—“

He popped you again from your words before pulling your panties up again, hating how you said it like it should have been obvious.

He watched you grind into the taut cloth, humping his knee. Although it was a subconscious movement from your body it didn’t stop him from letting out a humorous laugh.

“So fucking needy, ain’t ya?” He cooed, releasing the fabric and trailing a thick finger down the wet spot in your panties. “M’over here punishin’ you and you’re fucking my leg.”

“M’sorry,” you mumbled.

“You like it when I spank you?” He cooed in your ear; you nodded and he chuckled softly, tickling the hairs along your neck. “Yeah?”

“I like it when—… When you pull my panties,” you bashfully admit. “Feels good.”

He slowly let your hair go and cradled your jaw softly to keep your head up. With a smirk, he toyed with the linings of your panties. “You like when I hurt that pretty little ass a’yours?”

You hummed, taking one of his fingers in your mouth. He circled the pad of his middle finger around the rim of your clothed asshole, letting out a hum or a chuckle every time he felt it pulse.

“You’re gonna be good from now on, girl?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered against his fingers, spit drooling into his palm.

“Good,” he hummed softly, “good.”

“Can you,” you paused, unsure of why you were still acting shy. “Can you please pull my panties again?”

He happily obliged, starting a little gentler this time. He watched the shadow of your face contort with pleasure while you moaned softly, grinding your clit into his knee some more.

He watched one of your swollen pussy lips escape from the constriction so he pulled them some more to make the other lip appear.

You moaned at the thin fabric being engulfed by your cunt, clenching so more of your juices oozed out.

You felt his finger gently slip beneath the fabric to rub your wet entrance. You exhaled at his long finger slipping inside of you, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your asshole to circle it briefly.

He removed his finger and snuggled your panties up more. The friction stung your skin deliciously. He landed a smack on your ass cheek with the noise piercing your ears; you yelped and flinched, seductively laughing afterward.

Joel noticed the outline of his hand appearing along your flesh, red and bruised. He kneaded it with his palm and told you to bend over the edge of his bed. Once you were on your stomach again you felt him pull your shorts off of you completely, then your panties. His hands warmed over your thighs, grazing your ass and touching your lower back. He pressed his thumbs in slightly to massage you there for a few seconds before he slid his hands back down again to spread your ass.

You held your lip between your teeth throughout his touches, not wanting to make any noises in case he wanted you quiet.

The cool arousal leaving your body dripped down to your clit almost making you flinch from the temperature difference. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, seeking his fingers or his tongue or his cock — anything. His laugh was taunting and raspy, seeing how desperate you were for him.

"Such a needy girl, hmm?" He took a deep breath leaning into your flesh; his tongue scooped up your juices from your clit to your ass in one long, heavy lick. You gasped, surprised by the sudden contact. You were left disappointed when he didn’t continue lapping at you, but a rush of joy ran through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you.

He heard your simpering little giggle, smiling at how cute it sounded but still popping your right ass cheek where you had begun to bruise. You hissed, chewing on your lip while he undressed from the waist down.

He teased his length along your slit, spreading your wetness upwards and slapping his fat tip roughly against the tight ring of muscle.

And it fucking hurt, more than you were expecting, but judging by Joel’s chuckle he already knew it would.

You understood his need to humiliate you. That was the whole reason for doing what you did. You wanted him to have his way with you just as you had a few nights ago.

But you hurt his feelings more than you expected to and much more than he would like to admit.

He slapped your puckering hole even harder to elicit a response from you, satisfied when you groaned his name.

“Joooel, that hurts.”

He lined up with your pussy, not quite touching you yet. His only response was, “Good,” before shoving his thick cock inside of you.

You screamed at him tearing your walls apart with cruelty, clenching furiously around him to try and adjust quicker.

But he wouldn’t let you.

He pulled out of you to watch your muscles flex for a second, then rammed back inside of you; he stayed as deep as he could.

After ensuring your stomach would remain glued to the bed his lips pressed a wet kiss to the rim of your ear. He listened to your soft cries, feeling your hips wriggle beneath him.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asked again.

You panted with annoyance and told him, “If you fucking ease up on me.”

It was an absentminded comment with consequences you’d be dealing with for days. Joel just clicked his tongue at you and dug his hips into your flesh deeper. His cockhead nudged your cervix serving up a mixture of pain and pleasure throughout your stomach.

He didn’t want to be too mean, however, so he pulled back and pushed his weight into your lower back from his palms. Your stomach being smooshed into the bed made the impacts of his thrusts feel deeper than they were.

Your precum enthusiastically coated his shaft, lubing your entrance as he rammed into you. Your voice was breathy as you spoke.

“Joel—th-that feels… That feels good.” Your eyelids hung low creating a blurry line of vision, head bobbing from his stuttering hips.

“You like getting fucked like a slut?” He spat to which you confirmed. “S’that why you act like one?”

You admitted your faults, not wanting him to ease up on you.

“You wanna fucking dance on someone again?”

You didn’t respond, too immersed in how good he was touching you.

He grunted, pulling out of you leaving strings of your precum mixed with his hanging; he flipped you around and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, using his other hand to hold you at the base of your spine. He lifted you off of the bed, making you yelp.

Once he got into a comfortable position he removed his hand from your neck, showing you how strong he was being able to hold you up on his own. Your legs looped around his waist as he stood tall, your hands clinging to the broad peaks of his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he whispered; not wanting to be scolded again you lazily obliged. He laughed like a bully at your worn-out expression. “You’re so pretty like this, already fucked out like you can’t handle it.”

“Too much,” you complained against his lips in a short breath.

His hips snapped into yours, jolting your eyes wide open. “I don’t care. You wanted to act like a slut, so you’re gonna have to get fucked like one.”

“Joel—“

He shut you up by shoving his free fingers into your mouth, while the nails of his other hand dug into your back.

He didn’t want to hear your apologies anymore, or your complaints. He wanted you to shut up and take it, like a good fucking girl.

He saw the hindrance of innocence in your eyes that tried to beckon his forgiveness. He ignored it, meeting you with a punishing frown. The heavyweight stare riddled your nerves with anxiety — you didn’t want to disappoint him again.

He ravaged your attitude, breaking you down until he got his way with you just like you had all this time.

“You gonna be a good girl?” He asked again, shoving his fingers further back. You hummed into his hand and nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. He gasped when you twirled your tongue around his digits, slurping up the taste of his flesh. “You like that?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He experimented by pushing his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged and coughed, but bit down on his knuckles so that he wouldn’t take them out.

His thrusts slowed because he was too focused on feeling your throat, something that felt entirely different against his fingers versus his cock.

Seeking his approval, you took this as an opportunity to fuck yourself on him. With your shaky fingers pressing into his shoulder blades you lifted you rocked your hips up and down, clenching around his length often.

“Look at’cha… You need to cum baby?” His fingers left your mouth indicating he wanted a verbal response.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good for you.”

“You’ll be good?”

“Yes. Fuck—yes. I’ll be so good for you, Joel. I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He moaned at your cunt gripping him, smiling at how you humped him. You couldn’t hide your deprivation from him any longer, but he wanted you to earn it.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructed, smirking when you did so immediately. He gripped your ass with both of his wide hands to steady you. “Yeah, there you go. S’pretty like this…”

Your hair was glued to the sweat on your face and your eyes were low with a wave of tears waiting to spill onto your cheeks. Your teeth waned behind your red lips as you gurgled from choking on your saliva.

“You’re so pretty for me, princess,” he cooed; despite the softness in his voice, his tone was still suggestive of his anger.

He was on the verge of forgiving you, but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Your arms and core were growing weaker the harder you worked your body on his, but you were so determined to cum — and to do it on his command.

“Tell me how pretty you are,” he said with a devilish grin widening.

You were a little lost — what exactly did he want?

“Hmm?” You hummed, unintentionally slowing down.

“Tell me… How pretty you are,” he said again.

“Um…” Your mind was blank, God, Joel could really fuck you stupid, couldn’t he? “I’m—I’m so pretty,” you whispered.

You couldn’t think of what to say.

Maybe if I compliment myself the way Joel does…

“You like how pretty I am for you?” You asked. “All fucked out from your cock?”

His eyes rolled shut as he let out an obscenely long groan.

He liked that, you thought.

“I look so pretty with your cock stretching me out, don’t I? Hmm, yes, fuck—ah! You make me so pretty when you let me fuck myself on you, Joel—gah! Do you—fuck. Do you wanna see how pretty I am when I cum like this?”

His eyes shot open at the proposal, the only words his mind was able to compute being, “Yes, princess. Yes, yes, cum for me—mnh, God. You feel so fucking good.”

His words were encouraging enough to keep you going, long enough to light that fire that tickled you red.

“Show me how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.”

Your ass stung from him squeezing where his punishment landed, adding fuel to your rising orgasm.

He saw it spread across your precious body: your eyes wavering between open and close, your mouth pouting with his name leaving your tight throat, your nipples peaking, goosebumps flaring across your entire body.

You were flushed red and heaving and Joel couldn’t look away. You looked so ethereal, wrapping your fluttering pussy around the base of his dick and grinding in circular motions.

Pins and needles poked your arms from holding your weight, but the climax felt too good to let up so soon. You were sensitive, knotty, and engulfed in the stillness you were finally able to have.

“My pretty girl,” Joel whispered sweetly.

You opened your lazy eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Show me how pretty you are when you cum,” you said against his lips.

He took a moment to catch his breath before propping his arms underneath your thighs one by one. Your body thanked you for the relief.

Your cunt squelched cum onto his balls while the air thickened with the aroma of sex and sweat.

So sleepy, you felt as he continued to drive his hips into you, but he was so handsome in the low light of the moon. You felt your soul tie to his own, blending your orgasm into admiration for the man.

This was anything but the casual agreement you two had come to weeks ago, but fuck was it well worth it. His jealousy was a sign of a weakness he only possessed when it came to you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whispered with need. You wrapped your hands around his jawline and pressed his lips against yours.

The slip of your tongue against his was nasty. It was fucking filthy. You licked each other anywhere you could reach, coating one another in saliva as if to mark your territories.

Joel whimpered against your lips, admitting his arrival in the middle of the kiss. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I—…”

His mouth parted as he brought you impossibly close to his body, and he felt a knee nearly give out from the intensity of his orgasm. He drifted his body to the floor so he could sit on his knees, not wanting to drop you.

His thrusts were small and deep as he continued ruining your sore walls with his ropes of cum.

Still entangled in a series of kisses, they simmered to a savory pace. You tasted each other and relished in the filthy mix of bodily fluids.

You’d never been so sweaty from sex in your life yet it felt so fucking amazing.

He pumped you so full of cum that even with his cock plugging you a little bit of it managed to leak out. You both smiled at the feeling and broke away from each other's lips.

With your head tossed back on the edge of his bed and his head resting on your chest, you just sat there in silence.

His hands gloss over your back and your fingers stroking the wet curls on his head. You wanted to stay here forever, clinging to him like a bear to a tree.

He pressed a kiss onto your collarbone before raising his head to look at you.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you moaned shut-eyed, obviously very tired from sex. He grunted from standing up again and laid you in the cold bed before grabbing your panties and slipping them back up your legs. You finished it for him, making sure they were snug against your entrance to keep the cum from spilling out too much.

“I’ll go get some takeout, princess.”

You hummed with a small smile at his new nickname for you, feeling him press a kiss to your temple before you fell into a deep slumber.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yawned as he entered the kitchen.

“I am making us eggs and only eggs because you have a poor selection of breakfast foods.”

He snickered, closing the space between you and wrapping his warm arms around your waist. “Well, thank you, princess,” he mumbled against the curve of your neck.

His fingers slipped beneath the shirt you borrowed from him and found the hem of your panties. You didn’t allow his hands to distract you as you spread the fluffy eggs out over two plates.

“I guess this…” His fingers slipped inside of your partially wet cunt, curling just the way you like. “…is my breakfast.”

You shivered as goosebumps poked your skin from the motion of his hand, and you smirked to yourself when his other hand tugged at your panties. Once they hit the ground he bent you over slightly to pull his cock out, gliding it along your slit to tease you. You turned the stove off and gripped the counter, careful to not burn yourself.

Not even a moment later you felt his velvety cock smack against the peak of your ass, and you moaned at how warm he felt against your cold flesh.

“Joel,” you exhaled. “You’re fucking ruining me.”

“Y’say it like it’s a bad thing,” he grunted whilst sliding inside of you.

You moaned, eyes closing softly. “Not at all.”

He rolled his hips slowly, careful not to break you any more than he did just the night before. His hot breath filled your ears with decadent compliments about how good you were for him and how much he wanted to show his appreciation.

Joel fought a moan every time he saw your eyelashes flutter shut and heard you sharply inhale between gritted teeth. His confession of admiration seemed to hold more weight than before. That knot inside of you gushes at his rasps of affection, pushing you toward the edge.

You focused on how he felt, every little thing he was doing: his left hand held you steady at your hip while his right stroked your hair calmly as if you were his new pet kitten. His hips curled into the shape of you as if his body was planting kisses anywhere you managed to still be bruised from his punishments. His thighs trembled against the back of your stiff legs, urging you to let go whenever you were ready, not quite rushing you.

His voice was staggering and cracking, the words I love you straining against his throat from him suffocating it with praises instead.

You knew all of the you’re doing so good f’me’s and you sound so beautiful’s and you look so pretty with my cock inside of you’s were just invulnerably hidden I love you’s, but it didn’t bother you.

You understood what he truly meant and that’s all you needed for now.

His lovely teeth nibbled into the valley of your ear earning a giggle from you; you were so close—so fucking close. You needed more.

You tried rubbing your swollen and throbbing clit yourself but it wasn’t enough. Joel’s need to take care of you radiated from the heat of his body and you craved more of his touch; you moved his hand from your hip to your stiff bud, guiding his fingers to perform the way you sought.

His fingers were strong and thick and just what you needed to overflow, clawing at his bicep, leaning your head back to rest upon his shoulder.

It felt so good to be held by him. A longing that burrowed itself into your soul resurfaced. Ready to be fulfilled by him.

His words turned into simpering little mewls of yes’s and cum for me’s as you clenched around him.

He knew you were just barely there and he was adamant on not changing his pace or patterns if it meant he could watch you crumble.

Joel’s right hand left your hair and held your agape jaw to keep your head from bobbing too much after one of your legs buckled and your grip around his muscles tightened. He increased the force of his thrusts emphasizing the sound of his hips clapping against your heated skin.

His body was aching from the lack of rest but every moan you let out was so soft and subtle that it motivated him to continue.

Your breathing was shallow, filled with whimpers since he wouldn’t ease up on your sore cunt, but you loved it. Your body craved the sin of secrecy that had Joel’s name written all over it.

All the sneaking around, lying, and pretending you two are nothing more than long-time neighbors made all of this worth it. The games. Chasing each other. Waiting days—if not weeks just for a kiss was the thrill of it all.

Deep down you knew it couldn’t last forever; it’d either have to come out or come to an end. But couldn’t you live in the fantasy just for a little while,

moaning Joel’s name a little longer,

feeling the thick cum etched between your bodies,

feeling him stiffen up or jolt whenever your breath hit his sensitive ears,

laughing every time he accidentally slipped out,

getting so carried away that you couldn’t hear anything else…

…Like the garage door opening.

“Oh! Shit!”

You and Joel immediately pulled away, shocked by the sudden boom of Tommy’s voice; with trembling legs, you struggled your underwear back up while Joel tried to tuck in what refused to be hidden.

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t…” Tommy’s voice trailed off as he looked over and realized it was… You?

Wearing one of Joel’s big t-shirts and some rainbow-striped socks, Tommy said your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out.

“Jesus, Tommy. Quit lookin’ at her like that,” Joel complained while ushering Tommy into the next room.

“Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat.” Joel briefly looked back at you with those puppy eyes of his and asked if you were okay. You could only give him a tense nod in response.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in before looking at the plate of now-cold eggs.

Embarrassed wasn’t even the word. Distress curled around every crevice in the pit of your stomach making you feel nauseous.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, regaining enough composure to grab two forks from the utensils drawer and take them out to the living room where the two men sat and spoke.

“Here you go, Tommy,” you said sheepishly while trying to pretend that you weren’t avoiding eye contact. Turning to Joel you said, “I’m gonna head home.”

“You don’t have to leave ‘cus I’m here,” Tommy said, his apologetic tone emphasizing his indication. “I didn’t mean to impose or nothin’, it was… Just a surprise.”

“I gotta go shower and change my clothes anyways, so, uh…”

“Here, I’ll go help you get your things. I’ll be right back Tommy,” Joel said. You both walked up to Joel’s cluttered room where he shut the door softly and then apologized. “I forgot we picked up a job for today,” he explained.

“Well, I have been told I’m a pretty good distraction,” you teased, fumbling with last night’s clothes. He chuckled and watched as you got dressed, asking himself how it got to this point. “I probably can’t do anything until Sunday. My dad wants to take me to this new movie tomorrow, and then some event thingy Saturday.”

“Sunday, that’s…” Joel’s voice trailed off while he pretended to think about something.

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before hitting his arm with his t-shirt. He caught hold of it and used it to bring you closer, the grin of a jester playing on his face.

“I’m kiddin’, princess. I know it’s your birthday,” he cooed against your lips. His kiss embraced your laughter and made him smile again, but this time much more humbly. “I got you a present—but if I give it t’ya now I’ll be empty-handed in two days.”

You cocked an eyebrow up and stared at his lips causing him to vapidly blush. “You won’t be empty-handed,” you whispered. You held his hand in yours and brought it next to your face.

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, ‘cus I’ll make sure to keep both’a your hands busy,” you teased.

He watched carefully as you brought his index finger to your drooling mouth and took it in slowly. You somewhat forced his finger down your throat pretending it was his cock. You choked on the thick digit and pouted at him with your eyes.

He gasped at the textures of your narrow throat, frowning in a way that let you you’ve ignited something in him. He fought his moans harder than he ever needed to before, staring at you gag and slurp and slobber around his finger.

You curled your tongue against the webbing of his fingers and licked all of the excess spit up into your mouth with a swift bob of your head.

This made him bite his lip to shut himself up; you decided to not bully the poor man any longer and released his hand, smirking.

“You’re gonna regret that Sunday, princess. I’ll tell you that right now,” he threatened, however, his tone was full of defeat and his voice sounded higher from the strain of silencing moans.

“What are ya gonna do about it, old man?” You teased before walking out of his room.

Your birthday was more fun than you were expecting, more than enough people showed up (granted more than half of them were your dad’s friends), and you spent more time being the photographer than the center of attention.

Joel and Tommy showed up fashionably late (you’ve chosen to believe Joel’s watch is set two hours back). Meanwhile, their arrival earned a few giggles and stares from your high school friends.

They tried to talk to you about how much hotter Joel and Tommy had gotten while you pretended not to feel the pang of jealousy in your chest whenever they gawked at Joel a little too long.

They asked if you two had hooked up since being back and the only lie you managed to conjure was, “Joel’s either always at work or with my dad, so… I haven’t really been able to try.”

“Wait, does your dad know you two used to hook up?” One of your friends, Bri asked.

Right now you were really regretting telling all those lies…

“No,” you said almost too enthusiastically, “and I plan on keepin’ it that way. Not worth the trouble.”

“Well, if Joel’s not worth the trouble to you then you wouldn’t mind if I gave it a shot, would ya?”

You resisted rolling your eyes, wavering the drink in your hand around and mumbling, “Go ahead.”

“Hey,” another friend said after tapping you on your extended arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. Joel’s just one guy.” She must have noticed the defeat in your eyes.

Maybe to you, you thought.

Before you could respond Bri was sitting back down at your patio table with an embarrassed pout on her face, and for some reason, you were surprised rather than happy (okay, you were a little happy).

“What happened?” You asked.

“He said he’s seeing someone else,” she scoffed. “Do you know if he even likes blondes? Because I can always dye my hair darker.”

You chuckled, “I don’t think he has a preference.”

The rest of them changed subjects so when your eyes went searching for Joel, you found him standing next to your dad at the grill where he was already looking at you wearing a smile. You smiled at him and then turned your focus back to your friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

Once your friends had left for the night and your dad ended up in a game of dice with his buddies, you realized you needed some time to decompress from all the socializing.

Your dad insisted on cleaning up for you the way you always did for him, so you made your way upstairs intending to lie down for a few minutes.

With your back facing the door as you flipped through a magazine Joel was able to sneak into your room; it was the lock clicking that scared you.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Joel!” You gasped while throwing your magazine at him.

He chuckled hoarsely and leaned against the wall with the doorknob sticking into his back.

“Could at least make a little more noise when you’re following me!”

“The more noise we make the quicker we get caught,” he spoke under his breath.

Your eyes were wide as you took the sight of him in; his skin was beautifully tanned from the Texas sun, his biceps straining against his almost too-small t-shirt, and his jeans hung a little lower than usual.

His glossy eyes lingered on yours as he watched you stand up and check him out. He saw the fear on your face morph into lust, increasing as you walked towards him.

“What’chu nervous for?” He teased after watching your hand fidget with your belly button ring.

You barely heard him, thoughts immersing into thoughts of all the things you wanted him to do to you. “Hmm?”

Even as you got closer to him your eyes couldn’t leave the imprints of his muscles effortlessly flexing against his shirt.

“You play with your piercing every time you get nervous,” he told you after you pressed your body against his.

Ignoring his statement, you stared at the shadow of his collarbone and the light layer of hair coating his chest.

“Look at me,” he cooed, yet you only did it for a second, fueling that same attitude he had at the bar.

He tapped underneath your chin more roughly than you liked, almost like a smack.

But when you looked at his face again you saw that darkness you knew you wanted it like that night again, despite your attempts at hiding it.

Joel could always see past your bullshit.

“You like when I’m mean to you, girl?” He asked. You opened your mouth, ready to omit, but he held a warning finger up. “Don’t. Do not lie to me.”

You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and batted your eyes at him before naively nodding your head. “Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t peg you for the mean type.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No? But you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” you whispered against his wet lips.

You didn’t need to decompress. You needed to unwind.

“I bet you did, rubbing that needy little pussy all over my leg when I was bruising you up all sweet and blue,” he bullied.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your breath left your body, remembering how good it felt for him to punish you. When you looked at him again you saw an egotistical smirk had plastered itself onto his face.

“Problem s’that you didn’t disobey me tonight, so how could I possibly punish you when you were being such a sweetheart? Sayin’ thank you after opening every one of your gifts and offerin’ to help out.“ His tone was sadistic, taunting…

“Well, it is my birthday…” You said grinning. A heat burned through the pit of your stomach and spilled into your panties. “…and no one’s given me my birthday spankings yet.”

He remained quiet opting to run his hands up your arms until they cradled your face, thumbs stroking your lips and cheeks.

“You gonna count ‘em for me?” He whispered without breaking eye contact.

You smirked and kissed him tenderly. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed at your bed where you went to bend over the edge for him.

His boots softly knocked against the hardwood floor as he paced behind you, pondering in his head how he wanted to proceed.

Despite the curiosity that made you want to turn around and ask him questions, you stayed still and quiet until he gave you your first instruction.

“Take your shorts off.”

You reached for the button and zipper before pushing the denim down until it met your knees on the floor. Your hips wiggling more than necessary.

“No panties?” He said amusedly. You heard his body move behind you so that he became eye level with your ass. “You must’a really wanted that present from me tonight, huh?”

You nodded your head and reached under your stomach, using both hands to spread yourself for him. “I’ve been touching myself all weekend thinking about it.”

Joel stifled a moan at the sight of the creamy precum that revealed itself between your swollen lips.

You flinched and yelped at the sudden feeling of his middle finger spreading your cum around your tight hole making him smile.

“Rub your clit f’me, baby,” he rasped.

Licking your lips you rested your head down on the bed before listening to him; your ring and middle fingers rubbed perfect loops on your bud while your pinkie finger kept your cunt spread for his eyes.

He glanced at your ass which was still marked from his abuse nights prior.

“My God, girl… These my bruises?” He asked wanting to hear your submission.

“No one else I’d let do this to me,” you breathed out.

His calloused hands gripped and massaged your butt for a few quiet moments until a firm smack landed on your left cheek.

His touch left your body as he anticipated a verbal response from you but it took too long for you to compose yourself.

You were just so fucking eager for his fingers to dance around your cunt that you made the mistake of forgetting the arrangement that occurred only two minutes prior.

“I don’t hear you countin’, girl,” he warned.

“Shit,” you whispered, “sorry—“

He interrupted you with another smack, only this one landed on your spread lips.

“Ah!” You yelped, quickly burying your face into your sheets. It stung ruthlessly. “One… And two…”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mean smirk on his face burning into the back of your skull. “Take too long t’answer me again… You get the rest on that pretty little pussy a’yours. Understand?”

Your knees braced into the floor as you nodded. “Yes, I understand, Joel.”

“Mm,” he hummed grumpily. “Good.”

Smack.

“Three,” you hissed.

Smack.

“Four…”

Smack!

The pain was starting to get to you in the best way possible.

You knew that for the next week anytime you would sit down on your bruised cheeks you’d remember how Joel took care of you in the way you wanted him to.

One spanking in exchange for one orgasm — that’s how you saw it anyway. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment, but he went into this knowing he’d find a way to make it worth your while however you saw fit.

Joel only dominated you because you dominated him in every other aspect. When it came to sex he lived to serve you. So if 23 spankings is what you wanted, well then… What kind of man would he be to deny you of that?

By the end of the torture, you didn’t even want to think about sitting down for the next two weeks.

Joel saw your reflection in the mirror hanging from your closet, watching those red and puffy lips curl into a beautiful smile.

“Dunno how much longer we got, girl,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Best make it quick.”

Your eyes softly close and you bite your lip, giggling and moaning at how his southern drawl sounded especially sexy tonight. He noticed how lazily you were acting and laughed.

“You already fucked stupid?” He said with a small smile.

You turned onto your back, hissing at the pressure on your ass but giggling again at his annoyed tone and pursed lips. “Hmm… Maybe.”

Joel opened his mouth to say something but you raised your feet to rub against the growing bulge in his worn jeans. He watched your bottom lip get stuck between your rows of teeth, shining a drunken smile at him.

“You wanna play around, girl?” He flirted, a crooked show of his grin sending chills throughout your body.

“Wanna feel you, deep…” You let out a strained moan, cunt gripping so tight around nothing your precum slid out.

His fingers slid to the bulky strap of his belt and pulled it from his waist so fast it ended with a snap.

“So pretty like this…” He whispered as he sprung his cock free from its restraints.

Your face warmed with blush and your nipples stiffened at the sight of his dick: so hard it only slightly curved to the right, with a red hot angry tip beaming with a thick droplet of precum.

He leveled with your body and slid into you slowly, not wanting to risk making you moan louder than the walls could handle.

“Need you to be quiet for me, baby,” he whispered, “can ya do that f’me?”

Your eyes were shut, lips still between your teeth as you hummed and mewled. You nodded, looping his curls around the webs of your fingers and legs around his soft waist.

A breathy grunt escaped his mouth. His breath hit just below your ear making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

As his hips softly crashed into yours you felt yourself tensing at the sound of people outside and downstairs. You’d managed to forget your father’s friends were still here, and any one of them could walk upstairs to use the restroom only to hear the soft squeak of your bed frame—your father could.

Joel was just so easy to get lost in. His scent, his pretty smile, his touch… The way his tongue lapped at your neck like a cat would milk. How his hands cradled your waist and thighs. When he’d move his head up just for a moment to look into your heavy eyes.

God, you were a fucking mess.

His cock slid effortlessly against your needy walls, pressing deeply into that perfect spot at an angle you’d never felt before. And fucking hell, you wanted to say his name shamelessly. Scream it and plaster it onto the fucking walls if you could.

You did everything in your power to keep quiet, struggling from how your bruised ass stung even more every time his body crashed into you.

Joel bit the meat on your shoulder to shut himself up. His body yearning to fill you up with his precious seed was almost distracting. Almost.

“Doin’ so good f’me, girl,” he whispered into your chest, the pace increasing. “Might need t’cum.”

“Joel,” you whined, not needing anything more. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your head was thrown back into the mess of your blankets.

The knot in your tummy twisted, curling tightly around itself. You let out too loud of a breath that turned into a moan, but nothing too incriminating.

“Do not make me have to pull out and stop, now,” he rasped before taking two fingers and shoving them into your desperately open mouth.

You choked at the surprise but settled down and bit at his knuckles.

His face pressed into one of your tits as another desperate attempt to keep quiet, but all he had to do was feel you cumming to finish himself. Joel’s cock was sensitive and overwhelmed, and despite his best efforts to keep going for the sake of satisfying you he just couldn’t fucking take it.

You pouted and tried to pull him back in after he slipped from inside you to no avail.

“M’sorry, princess,” he huffed, annoyed with himself. “Can’t handle you sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes but saw the disappointment on his face as he buckled his pants back up.

“Just sneak over tonight,” you flirted, “suck me dry.”

He smirked at your coy smile and slid your bottoms back onto your hips. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, cowboy.”

It had been about a week since your birthday, and Joel did indeed sneak over to give you your well-deserved orgasm, give or take three more.

And his real birthday present was a small Eiffel Tower; he had remembered how you’d always wanted to visit Paris. While he wasn’t the most superstitious or spiritual man he said he’d hope it would bring you good luck with traveling for fashion.

Your dad on the other hand had been quite distant since that night and you wondered if he saw or maybe even heard something that gave your little secret away. Your dirty lies. Had they finally caught up to you?

Or were you just overthinking things? Maybe he’s just been moody or tired or in hermit mode. It could have been lots of things, right?

Needless to say, it was a shock when he called you downstairs as soon as you were done with your shower.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?” You asked as you entered the kitchen.

“You tell me,” he grumbled, eyeing you as you sat down.

“Ummm, the apocalypse is happening and flesh-eating monsters are taking over,” you answered sarcastically. When his facial expression didn’t even change in the slightest you stopped joking. “Uh, I…don’t know…”

“Whose shirt is this?”

A dull brown and red flannel was tossed onto the island and you just knew your face gave you away.

“Dad—“

“Don’t lie to me either,” he said between gritted teeth.

Your father already knew it was Joel’s, you knew that. But he always gave you the opportunity to take accountability for your actions. Not like it made him less mad, it just softened the blow.

“Where did you find it?” You asked, voice shaking.

“Yesterday,” he said after some hesitation, “you were at work for your last day. I was doin’ your laundry and there it was, as plain as day.”

You shut your eyes, a tear of embarrassment rolling down your cheek that you wiped away swiftly. “It’s Joel’s.”

“Why is it here?”

You looked at him with eyes that begged for him to not ask, but his face was hardened.

“Because Joel was here,” you reluctantly answered.

“When.”

“A… A few times.”

“Why?!”

The tension was suffocating; you figured you were already caught so you may as well admit to everything—well, not everything if you could help it.

“Because we’ve been seeing each other,” you said softly, leaning your forehead onto your hand. “Since I got back, we’ve been seeing each other. Sometimes I go there, sometimes he comes here.”

“Since you got back?”

You nodded and faced him again, fighting your tears. It wasn’t that you were sad or worried about what your dad may have done, you just wished you were more honest from the start.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I made the first move. I was trying to get over my boyfriend and… He was there… And it just sort of happened.“

“S’good thing you’re going back to New York soon.”

Your heart sank—had your dad forgotten when you said you were thinking of staying in Austin to stay close? Not just for Joel, but everybody. Your family, your friends, you wanted to be near when Sarah graduated. You missed life in Texas, too much to go back to New York State so soon.

“I—I told you I wanted to stay, that I was thinking of staying close,” you rambled, “did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. You’re not allowed to see him anymore. You in New York makes sure that happens.”

“Wh—not allowed?!” You almost laughed. “I’m twenty-five, I make my own decisions.”

“He’s too old for you,” he said.

You scoffed, standing up. “I’m not some mentally incompetent eighteen-year-old, Dad. I’m a grown woman dating a grown man!”

“Not here! Not when you’re living in my house.”

“Well, then I will just fucking move out!”

You ignored his protests and calls for you, feeling like a grounded teenager all over again.

What you and Joel had was fickle, you knew that. You weren’t stupid. It wasn’t built on a foundation, it was hardly dating even though you wanted it to be more.

Your dad would come around someday. Hell, maybe he would have already had you been honest from the start.

“Hey, Sarah, is your dad home?” You stiffly asked.

She frowned at your puffy eyes and red nose, looking over her shoulder before saying, “Uh, n—no, but he’s just runnin’ a bit late from work. Why don’t you come in and wait for him? He should be back any minute.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t wanna impose. Just tell him to call me when he gets some free time, please?”

“You sure?”

You nodded, not necessarily trusting your voice anymore with how you were choking up from your tears.

Sarah’s shoulders dropped and she insisted you come in. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.”

After a moment of hesitation, you followed her inside after picking your bag up, wiping your nose, and clearing your throat.

Sarah was kind enough to bring you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down a couple of cushions away.

“Are you breaking up with my dad or something?” She asked after a minute or two.

“What?”

“He told me a couple days ago, but I already figured because I heard him talking to you on the phone a while ago. Something about missing you,” she explained.

“I’m sorry, Sarah, I…” You sighed and looked at your hands. “I wish I was there to tell you.”

“No, that’s okay! I think it’s kinda cool. A little weird, but cool.” She assured. “But are you? Breaking up with him, I mean.”

“No, well at least I hope not,” you chuckled softly. “My father isn’t a very forgiving man.”

“He just wants to protect you. My dad said that’s just what fathers do. I’m sure he’ll come around someday.”

“Thanks, Sarah.”

The lock clicks soon followed by the door creaking open; you and Sarah watch as Joel walks in with empty hands before he notices you sitting on his couch. A look of worry spread across his face.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah chirped while standing up. “She just came by to see us.” Sarah walked into the kitchen to give you some privacy.

Joel sat next to you and gestured at the ground. “Why do you have a bag?”

“Oh, I’m just going to stay with a friend for a few days,” you said.

He nodded reluctantly, sensing your nervousness. “Your dad find out?”

A wave of sadness took over you again, but you managed your tears away better this time. You only offered a nod, nails picking at a loose thread on your jeans.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I was gonna make steak for dinner.”

“I—I don’t wanna… Impose.”

He chuckled. “What d’you mean impose? You’re my girlfriend.”

Letting out a surprised sound, you frowned and looked around the room incredulously while Joel just stared at you anxiously.

“Girlfriend?”

He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Well. You are my girlfriend, right?”

“You never asked,” you laughed.

His eyes were a mix of amusement and surprise. “My apologies, darlin’. Forgive me for not having been gentleman enough.” He takes your hand earning a laugh from you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so sappy,” you teased before giving him a peck on the cheek. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“I dunno what I’m gon’ do,” you said softly.

You and Joel had been in bed for a couple of hours just talking about everything, with Sarah sound asleep in her room; the three of you had watched one of Joel’s favorite movies and Sarah gave him a fixed watch.

You shifted up to rest on your elbow and looked down at him. “How much longer you think he’ll be mad?”

“I don’t know, princess,” he said after sucking his teeth. “He doesn’t tend to hold grudges but I know he’s more mad at me. F’it’s any consolation.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw just firm enough to keep you still. Your lips tangled with his, fingers reaching up to clasp his curls; he climbed on top of you carefully, humming on the tip of your tongue.

He began to grind and hump eliciting moans from you both while his right hand got to work beneath your shirt, thumbing the nipple just enough to tickle you.

Your hand snaked between your bodies to find the opening of his boxers; you pulled his velvety cock out and pumped it gently whilst not bothering to touch yourself as your panties were already pooling.

Your heart ached with so much pain and at the same time so much love. You needed Joel. In every fucking way possible for as long as you’d be blessed to have him.

His lips broke free from yours to greet your neck, then your collarbone, before planting around your now exposed breast.

You exhaled at his warm tongue swirling saliva around your peaked bud, sending waves of shivers down your arching spine.

“Joel,” you whispered leaning into his gentle touch.

With a throbbing clit and a slippery cunt you felt weak beneath him. You were enamored with pleasure that it overtook your body. You couldn’t control your breathing or your trembling. Hand awkwardly shifting around his shaft.

He took your other nipple into his hot mouth, shirt bunched around your arching neck. With daunting hands he traced the hem of your panties, pulling at them carefully.

He sat on his knees to undress your legs, adjusting so his cock lined up with your entrance. He slid in slowly, knowing the lack of foreplay could ruin this.

But it didn’t.

Your walls burned with a stretch so delicious it set your skin on fire. It took everything in you to not moan as loudly as your body begged to.

A soft gasp only leaving your lips, your head lolling back, eyes clenching shut… Yeah. Joel knew how to fucking work you.

Your walls clung to him fearing even just a moment of loss. His eyes burned into your feverish skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest and stomach as you took in deep breaths.

“You feel so good,” he whispered into your collarbone, placing a sloppy kiss on it afterward. “I lo—“

A pause in his voice made your eyes fly open; his hips stuttered the same way his voice did signaling something was wrong.

Joel’s heart punched against yours, but he kept grinding into you like he hadn’t spoken at all. Oh, but all the worry was written in his eyes.

“Joel?” You softly asked between moans.

He took in the softness of your hands cradling his uneven stubble. He hummed and kissed the meat of your palm before biting it gently.

You fought the nerves in your voice. Everything inside your body screamed that this was wrong, yet as you looked into his eyes your heart swelled with admiration for the man that helped you find pieces of yourself again.

“I love you too,” you finally said.

He stopped moving his body against yours and he just stared at you. He was conflicted with whether or not you said that only because he almost did.

But when you said it again and tightened your legs around his waist to affirm it he gave you a gentle kiss, finding his tongue bumping into yours along the way. Pulling back, Joel finished his sentence.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” You teased.

But his face remained serious, eyes boring into yours.

After a few more silent seconds Joel laid his head into the curve of your neck and began riding into you again. Hips rolling into you, breath hitting your neck, and hands gripping the sheets.

Your body was hot as molten lava, melting into the mattress. Joel felt so safe, so beautifully safe. Safe enough to say, “I love you,” in his ear over and over again, his voice overlapping yours with the same words.

He took care of you that night. Letting you immerse yourself into enjoying every damn thing he gave you. His grunts staggered and turned into short hisses of pain as you bit into his shoulder to keep quiet. That’s what fueled him: the pain of your undying desire.

He reached deeper inside of you than he ever dared to before, reaching reaching reaching to find your soul and bear all commitment to it. To serve you, as his gravelly voice whispered, “I fucking live for you.”

“I love you, Joel,” you responded. “It’s you and me. Forever. Us against the world.” A tear made its way from your eye to his forehead.

He kissed the trail the tear left and repeated you. “Us against the world.”

It was just sex talk — usually is, but Joel always knew what words would just make you fucking cum. Those words dripped from his lips like a poisonous honey for you to lap up and savor.

He wanted you cumming all over his sheets cock to fucking mean something. To permeate his love anywhere it could stain.

Joel had started to cum just a second before you did, forcing him to let out a moan. You held his head to your chest while he cradled your back.

Your head buzzed the same way it would when you got high, only it felt better. Quieter. More immersive. Your back arched into his touch and the rolling of his hips kept you in that limbo. Not here nor there. You were right where you needed to be, whatever that fucking meant.

You managed to keep quiet a little better than him, giggling softly when he just plopped down onto you after you had both come down.

He stayed like that for a few minutes while you just stroked the curls by his ear, his other one listening to your heartbeat slow down.

“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he cooed, and just as he finished dressing his phone began to ring. He just answered it as he walked to the bathroom, letting you rest some more. A few minutes later, he came back and wiped wherever you asked. “I gotta go help Tommy real quick with somethin’. W’ya stay here, keep an eye and ear out for Sarah?” He asked.

“Yeah, for sure. Be safe.”

You shared a kiss with him again before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Shit. 11:32 PM.

“Joel?” He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Happy Birthday,” you said with a smile.

“Thank you, princess.”

taglist: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeereaa (cant tag) @ssweetart42

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #tlou

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thegreatwicked · 2 months

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Writing Resources Part 2

My first list was so long I decided that I reached the character limit! So we have a part two! I'm going to try and keep them a bit more organized too! Hope these help you all in your writing endeavors and if you happen to use any of them try to give the original source some love!

Also, apologies if I've tagged you more than once and it's annoying! If I reference your material more than twice I will just link your whole Tumblr. I really do want to make sure everyone gets their credit and spotlight!

General Information and Research:

The Fantasy Guide to Royal and Noble Marriages or anything by @inky-duchess Her blog is extensive and is a wealth of information regarding things like royalty/nobility/Period social politics and is a fantastic resource, go check her out! Ink I do appologize I might be tagging you more than once!

@type1diabetesinfandom This blog is an amazing resource if you are interested in writing about characters with any form of diabetes or similar health issues. It was ana amzing find when I was writing my character Belladonna Black from Shadows of Deception who is hypoglycemic. What an amazing source!

How to Cook in a Medieval Setting: by @alpaca-clouds Food is the best way to know a culture and this particular blog post is a trove of information for your fictional foodie set anywhere in this spectrum of time or a great find for a fictional setting! This post obviously gets a chefs kiss!

The Symbolism of Flowers by @novlr Yeah! Leopold knew what he was talkign about, every flower has a meaning and it is entirely possible to send some a bouquette that translates to 'Fuck You' btw it consists of geraniums (stupidity), foxglove (insincerity), meadowsweet (uselessness), yellow carnations (you have disappointed me), and orange lilies (hatred). it would be quite striking! and full of loathing. THE MORE YOU KNOW. This blog is also a fantastic source for writers.

Writing About Body Pain by @slayingfiction I just came across this gem of a blog and if you're one who likes to make your characters sufffer than look no further, also, how ya doing? You ok? Just checking. This blog is also a fantastic writing resource.

How to Accurately Describe Pain in Writing by @hayatheauthor kinda piggybacking off the previous source but nevertheless lets make sure we make these characters suffer realistically? I'm ok too, if you're wondering. This is another great blog that focuses on the aspect of being a writer.

How to Use Canva to Make Mood Boards by @saradika I did not know much about mood baords but I'm telling you they are a gaem changer! They bring a life to your story in a way that is just so stunning and saradika has been so lovely as to make this helpful guide! She's also a very talented writer and is quite the Star Wars Fan! GO check out her stories!

Researching as a Writer by @so-many-ocs Research is a tricky topid to delve into and sometime sit hard to know where to start, this blogger has been so kinda as to make a bit of a roadmap to help you narrow down what you need to research and how. Wonderful blog! Very helpful!

Resources for Writing Deaf, Mute, or Blind Characters by @thecaffeinebookwarrior THIS! This right here is a gem and the only reason I don't write these types fo characters is because I've never known how to do so respectfuly and realistically! Not a problem anymore! Also a wonderful artist!

How to Write and Research a Mental Illness another gem from @hayatheauthor again if you're going to wrote a character with a mental illness lets make sure we get it right!

@namesforwriters It's little but a wonderful source of unique names for your story! Including mythology and music themed names!

Nightmare Disorder vs Night Terrors by @redd956 Some great clarification from a blogger who is diagnosed! So happy I found this as I was wondering about the distinction myself for a little while!

Types of Gemstones by @blueboxbeagle and brought to my attention by @keffirinne

More will be added to this post as I find it and if you find anything that fits the general research on broad topics or specifics please let me know so I can continue this collective writing resource! And make sure to give some of these wonderful writers and bloggers some love!

#writing resources #writing research

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elisacaleisa · 2 months

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I wrote this in my discord server and then posted on twitter. Time to annoy here as well, HEEHOO!

Jax's Personality Swap AU!

DAMN PIPELINE: Kody > Huxley > Gavin > Damien > Lasko > Kody

NOTE: Since this is a personality swap, these characters are gonna be out of character, but Huxley will still remained as a supporting character, while Kody is still not (only personality change, not roles)! Typing this just to avoid confusion!

Damien > Lasko:

Tired Air Elemental:

- he is tired

- looks older than he actually is, its the wrinkles and white hair

- bro doesnt sleep

- not really mean, he just sounds really monotone and had the same expression

- "you all are idiots, why do i hang out with you"

- "you have 99/100. you can do it next time"

- he has trust issues and has hard time opening up

- he means well when you get to know him

- "i try to push you to your limits, because i believe you can surpass them... i'm sorry, i didnt mean to break your boundaries"

- still a dnd nerd but more of a dungeon master with ton of research for his homebrew campaign

——————

Gavin > Damien:

Daring Fire Elemental:

- more of a risk taker in a rebellious bad boy way? Outside of the academy

- night walks

- "are you lost, precious?"

- smiles all the time in a warm way

- "well, look at you, what a snack. are you cold? i can warm you up."

- very smart but doubts himself

- awkward with physical contact

- tries to be seen as overly attractive and an attention seeker to hide his emotional vulnerability

- he and his mom kinda argue so he left,,, whoops

- "arent you a doll, freelancer. heh... alright, we will hug. maybe even kiss?"

——————

Kody > Huxley:

Distant Earth Elemental:

- is not very friendly in the beginning

- trust issues! My favorite /j

- he can be a meanie :(

- "why do we keep bumping into each other?"

- freelancer does not give up

- "i can take care of myself, i am not that stupid" he sounded hurt...

- he misses his moms,,,

- he wants to fit in, but since people think he is stupid because he is an earth elemental, he decided to do the opposite and be alone by himself

- the only friend he had was Lasko but they fought they last time they saw each other

- "you actually like me, didnt you? what am i doing, why do i wanna hurt you so bad? im supposed to be your friend" - spinel from steven universe the movie

——————

Huxley > Gavin:

Oblivious Incubus:

- he is so lonely

- his only friend was Caelum, who is kinda a spoiled brat but nice only to Gav (slowly to FL)

- FL comes up

- "youre so pretty..."

- shit he said that out loud

- PANIC

- "ISAIDWELCOMEMYNAMEISGAVIN-"

- very friendly

- poor orientation skills. he has to walk with freelancer to get them to the academy

- loves physical touch

- gives fl a keychain for free!

- the keychain says big gulp. FL giggles

- "huh? Whats so funny?" ... "oh... Ohhh haha! Haha, i didnt even realize! Youre so smart"

——————

Lasko > Kody

Bashful Water Elemental:

- he is so innocent!

- he is trying to be helpful

- "a-are you okay?"

- freelancer says its okay

- "i struggle with my powers, i-im so sorry"

- kody is following them.... ok?

- kody, personal space pls

- he is trying to also help freelancer, since he knows the struggle of being useless

- kody is being very pushy...

- "well, in this book, it says that we should bridge if we want to maximize our potential in our elemental. w-what do you say?"

- kody is a creep again GOD DAMMIT!

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted verse #personality swap au #personality swap #redacted damn #redacted lasko #redacted huxley #redacted damien #redacted gavin #redacted kody #jax's personality swap au

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bluishfrog · 30 days

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HAPPY 1-YEAR OF DRAWING ANNIVERSARY TO ME!

(Warning: slightly longer post incoming cause sometimes I gotta be a sentimental bitch ok? So let's go on a little trip down memory lane.)

This day, a year ago, I made my very first fanart. It was dnf (if that surprises you, then welcome to being on my blog for the very first time). I drew a little frog face too so I could use it as a watermark (fun fact: I still use that very same first one).

I immediately put my drawing up on twt because I told myself that I wasn't gonna be afraid of having people see that I was at the very beginning of this journey and had no clue what I was doing. That instead of being bad at art, I was gonna be awesome at being a beginner who doesn't know shit.

I started with little doodles and silly comics and then I laughed way too long when the first drawing of mine that gained some attention was a dnf butt joke. At the time I was trying to balance shipping and non-shipping art so I didn't even draw dnf that much but in hindsight it's probably the only possible way this could have gone.

At the very end of August I woke up to @honelle56 caps-locking at me in my messages - I was very confused and tired (I am no morning person and I will never be, fuck off with your mornings) because Dranart liked my drawing of singing Dream. Dranart was my 17th follower on twt which is a useless yet extremely funny fact about my time on that hellsite.

I also drew human!patches because a) patches was and will always be my favorite dteam member and b) it was a really cute trend and while I do love drawing dream, george and sapnap, I was also quite happy to try drawing anything but a white man for once. And I really liked how the drawing turned out.

Much, much later, I tried to draw my first slightly more realistic looking drawing. I was extremely confused on how to draw anything like this. Especially their hair gave me tons of trouble but given my experience, I think it's not a bad attempt.

When hijacked smp started I obviously wanted to participate, and I drew c!blu who doesn't associate with any side in particular but instead serves soup to everyone who visits her tavern 'The Soup House'. She also wants to be paid in stories from all around the map.

One of the events I was most excited about was dnf week. I even collaborated with two talented writers and I drew the corresponding art for two fics.

(Fun or not so fun fact: when twt had like three hundred collaborative aneurysms about the situation at that moment, that was when I created this tumblr account. I didn't use it super actively (I guess I needed another situation to fully make the switch) but I at least started the account that now developed quite a bit since then.)

I didn't really draw at all through January and February and I actually kinda thought I would move on from that hobby and fandom (not because of negative feelings, just because I didn't really have the urge to create anything within this fandom) and then situations happened and now I am here; and for some reason that is beyond any logic and my understanding I am now even more insane about dteam.

Wild to me but we are rolling with it now, I guess.

Since I got here, I drew more than ever (I actually think I might have made more drawings in the month since I got here than I made the whole rest of the year). There's just such an active and funny community here that cares about fan works for the sake of creating and not just because a CC might see it.

Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me add more than 10 images in one post (maybe fortunately for everyone who has this monstrosity of a post on their dash). So if you want to see all the progress I made since I got here, you can look at everything in my art tag. For now, I will close this post with one of the art works from the past month that I like the most:

Can't wait to see what the next year might bring :)

Love, blu

#blu rambles #like a LOT #but if you made it to the end of this post you get a hug <3 #bluishfrog art

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valentine-writes · 8 months

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boys don't cry

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, masc coded reader (kinda. no pronouns used!! but trust y'all i'll b writing masc reader stuff soon cuz I Need It), inconsistent lengths for each character i am Filled W/ Favouritism, kisses can be platonic (spider-noir part i love this man), reader is used to bottling emotions up, the spot's part is Not That Serious, characters all love u and wanna help :> 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, jessica drew, lyla, margo kess/spider-byte, miles morales (1610 and 42), miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, (spider-man) noir, pavitr prabhakar, peter b parker, and the spot/johnathan ohnn

author's note: this song slaps╰(*°▽°*)╯ also see other songs below which influenced this <3 u can slowly see me losing the slash srsness as the character progress,,, apologies. many :(( anyways!! had this marinating in my drafts so im posting. hopefully will get time to clear my inbox and fulfill reqz! tysm for ur patience lovelies !!!!（。＾▽＾）<333

“i try to laugh about it / hiding the tears in my eyes” – the cure, boys don't cry

“i didn’t want you to hear / that shake in my voice / my pain is my own” – car seat headrest, 1937 state park

“i don’t know why i am / the way i am, not strong enough to be your man” – boygenius, not strong enough

▸ GWEN, who all too familiar with what it's like to keep up a tough act for the sake of not falling apart.

she's grown accustomed to letting emotions eat away at her until they're too big to deal with. which is why she's quick to feel empathy when she sees that you do the same thing.

she won't force you to talk about anything you don't want to– but if you need an outlet, she hands you her drum sticks.

"maybe it'll help you like it helps me." gwen explains, giving you that awkward little smile of hers that makes everything weighing on you feel a little less heavy.

always trying to help you find a way to channel your emotions. even if drumming doesn't work for you. maybe it's singing. maybe it's art. or maybe you just need to cry. no matter what it is, she doesn't mind. she just wants you to let it out in a healthy way.

▸ HOBIE is instantly aware of the fact you're the type to laugh and joke around to hold back tears.

you're trying your hardest to keep smiling, but he sees it falter as you try to speak, choking out the words while holding back a sob.

"'s okay to cry, y'know? no one 'round here but us anyways." he reassures.

you take a sharp inhale, knowing it was useless to pretend. he was always emotionally intelligent, able to read you like a book. sometimes you wondered if he could read your mind. or maybe he was just attentive with you.

he puts a hand on your back, gently rubbing as you feel the tears run down your cheeks. this turns into an arm around your shoulder as you cry, until you're fully sobbing– he decides to just pull your into his arms.

he's still holding you close, even as your cries subside into sniffles. always encourages you to be real with him. there's nothing he loves more than you being unfiltered– even if it means expressing negative emotions. to hobie, vulnerability is bravery.

▸ JESSICA DREW who's quick to notice you the minute you turn away to conceal your face.

she pulls you aside discreetly, knowing you probably didn't want attention of others. tries to meet you eye-level, asks you directly about what's wrong.

after a few seconds of silence, you finally break.

"i feel so weak." you sniffle, not meeting her eyes.

"for doing a little crying?" she sighs a little, shaking her head. "not at all. you're strong– you've been strong. but even strong people gotta cry."

she'll talk you through it or just sit beside you, offering you advice or even just a space to vent. she's very busy all the time– but she'll set aside time for you. tells you that hiding from emotions only works for so long and that tells you that you aren't any less tough in her eyes for feeling them.

you're only human after all. you deserve to live out the wholeness of the human experience.

▸ LYLA isn't really all too involved with your day-to-day life shenanigans (being the best ai assistant is hard), but she always makes a point to check up on you when she gets the chance.

besides, miguel sure isn't gonna gossip with her like you do.

"you doing good?" she'll ask, grinning.

you only respond with a weak "yeah" and the fakest chuckle she's ever heard, as you clearly attempt to blink back tears.

she doesn't know what to do. tries to wipe the tears that eventually fall with a virtual hand that phases right through your face. well. at least she had good intentions.

"hey, hey–" lyla gets you to take a deep breath. "look at me."

she says your name, regrounding you. you look up at her, and for a moment, she's certain that she's felt something akin to sympathy. she's felt something real.

lyla doesn't let that distract her from her objective– right now, she's gotta comfort you.

she repeats your name, "...it's okay. you cry if you feel like it."

▸ MARGO who sits you down, letting you be the one to speak first when your smile wavers.

"i hate fuckin' crying.." you laugh weakly, trying to make the situation better. it doesn't help control the tears. "i feel so lame for it."

"you know," she whispers, taking your hands in yours, "i still think you're pretty cool."

she gives you a grin that's so earnest– so sweet– that lets you know she's being honest.

"okay, so this might be stupid,, butttt–" encourages you two to listen to some moody music so you can get whatever you've bottled up out of you systems. it's cathartic, crying your eyes out with her as whatever the two of you have queued up blasts in the background.

doesn't judge you one bit for crying.

"only way out is through." she shrugs. "gotta feel it before you can actually let it go."

▸ MILES (1610) who had just asked an innocent question about how your doing, now watching as you struggle to respond.

after a strained moment of searching for words, you shrink away and hide your face in your hands. he scoots by your side, asking before gently taking your hands away from your face.

"what's wrong?" his voice is soft. gentle as he looks at you with the sweetest concerned expression.

"i shouldn't be crying.. it's stupid... i feel so, so stupid–"

he frowns at these words. "i don't think it's stupid."

societal expectations forcing people to put on a tough act just to conceal emotions deemed as "weakness?" not a new concept to him. he's just sad that it's impacted you so deeply.

after this, will actively check up on how you're doing emotionally. will pull you aside to have a heart-to-heart if he senses the slightest thing off. terrified of being shut out by you, will always offer for the two of you to deal with whatever you're struggling with together.

▸ MILES (42) who asks more bluntly than he had intended when he senses you're not doing okay.

you take a sharp inhale, giving him an unsteady smile which only makes him sigh. no matter how much you try to make the situation lighthearted, his expression never changes.

"nah. you're not fooling me." he walks over to you, his voice softening as he looks at you. "...what's got you upset?"

a really good listener. lets you rest your head on his shoulder as you vent and let it out.

he's not the most open himself, so of course he understands– but he doesn't want you to be like him.

you thank him for putting up with your breakdown, feeling a little awkward as you pull your cheek away from his shoulder and look at him.

you watch as he falters for a moment, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you in for a warm, slightly stiff, side-hug.

"don't thank me for that– it's just what you deserve." though his quick to dismissal of what you'd said seems to be the end of his sentence– you watch as he unclenches his jaw, hesitating before he says something else.

"anytime. i mean it."

▸ MIGUEL who is jus like u for reals doesn't quite know how to cope with emotions either. that doesn't give him an excuse to not try with you.

he can't find the right words, but you see the empathy in his eyes. he offers quiet comfort– places a hand on your back, rubbing it as you lean into his side

"don't hide your face from me." he mutters to you. "it's just me."

your hands fall from your face into your lap, shoulders slumping. he feels you tremble softly, as you to reply.

"this should be for me to deal with. i should be strong enough." your words echo in his mind.

maybe because he's told himself the same thing too many times before as well. it's painful, the way that this moment with you reflects a mirror image of himself.

will crumble his own walls if it means you'll do the same. tries to be open to encourage you. you'll learn together.

▸ NOIR who is a gentleman through and through. always. tells you that he'll give you anything you need.

"i don't know what nitwit told you it wasn't okay for you to cry," his choice of words makes you crack a slight genuine smile, "but you don't have to believe them one second."

as your facade slowly crumbles, his gloved hands cup your face as you cry. he dries your cheeks, patiently nodding as he listened to you ramble on about everything you've been holding back.

when you've calmed down, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

to ache like this and still be concerned over burdening others– he's now finds little ways to remind you how precious you are to him. that he'll always care.

▸ PAVITR, who approaches you as delicately as possible. he tries not to do anything that will make you feel backed into a corner.

he knows that feeling scared can lead to lashing out. tries to be casual about it to ensure you're as comfortable as possible.

you crack an obviously forced joke and he glances at you questioningly.

"you're not telling me something, aren't you?" he asks. pavitr's secretly hoping he was good at playing this careful– but you had picked up that he wanted to talk to you about it for a while now.

you're both obvious.

your grin fades as you chuckle dryly. "i don't... i don't want to– it's embarrassing."

"what's embarrassing is that i didn't notice earlier. don't be shy. we can figure it out together, okay?"

offers all the help he can. even (secretly) messages gayatri for "advice for a friend" you!!! you are friend!!!!! he doesn't name drop tho. privacy king.

▸ PETER B(E MY WIFE) PARKER. the one who drags you outside to chat about it and cracks a stupid joke himself. it alleviates no tension at all.

"..ahh,, no, nevermind that kid. you okay?"

a shake of your head and his smile fades a bit. he grips your shoulder, shaking you gently.

"been there plenty of times. trust me– better to get it out now."

and for a while, it's just a conversation. you're both sitting outside, the night air bringing a chill to your skin. he offers his jacket– and then proceeds to pull you into it while he still wears it, your back pressed to his chest.

it goes unspoken, but he knew you had been struggling for a while now. he's relieved to finally get a moment with you.

he'll always be looking out for you. even if you don't realize.

▸ THE SPOT/JOHNATHAN OHNN panics ever so slightly. this is the first time you've ever cried in front of him. so he does what he does best– and just asks questions.

"you've been bottling it up this whole time?"

"mhm..."

"for how long?..." your response causes him to pause, blinking several times before parting his lips to speak again. "...oh. oh wow– yikes–" he means well i swear.

will scour the multiverse in search of a quiet place for you to lay this all to rest.

you admit, you're certain you don't need all this– but he seems happy to put in the effort and lead you into a portal into a nice area to relax.

"are we breaking and entering into someone's house?!"

"uh– don't worry about it for now."

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