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#i’m gonna start a blog tag for my own posts

castielsdadvibe · 15 days

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i’m starting a spn rewatch so i might bring this blog back lol i still have to get through the first three season (affectionately) before i get to cas but i love him too much not to blog about him even tho i haven’t gotten to him in the show again

#this is going to take so fuckin long #but i want to say i’ve officially watched every spn episode #because as of now i can’t #i haven’t seen seasons 14 and 15 #but i’ve seen everything else #and now it’s a matter of pride lol #i’m gonna start a blog tag for my own posts #i shall do….#🐝.txt #because of cas and also my nickname from my family in germany means bee

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pigdemonart · 1 year

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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)

When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]

These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.

More info under cut:

Edit: Important disclaimer:

These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍

Tags:

I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.

Height chart:

I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:

Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)

Notes about each agent...

Cameron:

- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices. - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too. - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.

Cloud:

- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling. - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace. - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together! - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.

Furze:

- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.

Isadore

- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao

Jackie

- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...

- Item #: SCP 7453

- Object Class: Euclid

- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.

Ramses

- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.

In-Game Quotes

The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.

In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.

Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!

#depot agents #depot agents master post #my art #submas #submas adjacent ahaha #will probably edit as time goes on but who knows really #if you spot any typos no you dont kiss kiss #cameron #cloud #furze #isadore #jackie #ramses

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macfrog · 8 months

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call me

idea came to me in a dream. enjoy also! i made a notifs blog! taglist life is NOT for me, babies. feel free to head on over, follow and turn notifs on to be updated anytime i post! 👉 @macfroglets 👈 you’re gonna wanna do it before this sunday…😉🤠

inspired by @bageldaddy who is the author of the dreamiest series on this site, my biggest crush, and also told me not to tag her but i respect my elders so.

pairing: joel miller x call girl!reader

summary: you moonlight as a call girl, receiving mediocre call after mediocre call. one night, one joel miller dials in, and grants you the most exciting ten minutes of your career

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) this fic is pro-sex work. reader is a phone sex operator, mentions of anal and oral, dirty talk, couple mentions of daddy, praise kink, mutual masturbation, alcohol consumption, cursing

word count: 3k

main masterlist

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb. “You’re gonna touch yourself.” “That what you want?” “’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

It started out as a joke, if you’re being honest.

A wine-drunk night with Liv, sat at opposite ends of the couch, legs intertwined somewhere in the middle of the cushions. Her blouse was stained pink – your fault, apparently, for making her laugh too hard. Her glass tilted a fraction too far and before you knew it, you owed her a new shirt.

“Say it again, say it how he said it,” she snorted, patting her chest down with the damp towel you’d handed her.

“…quite frankly, disappointed with your performance,” your head tilted back and forth, mocking the nasally voice of your fifty-one-year-old, receding-hairline-equipped boss. Ex-boss. Asshole.

“Oh, fuck,” she heaved, still catching her breath. “That’s so fucking funny.”

You sighed in agreement.

“So…what are you actually gonna do now?”

You shrugged. “Sell my body.”

“Dare you.”

“I would.”

“I know you would. And you’d be good at it, too. ‘s why I’m telling you to do it.”

You kicked her ankle. “I got bills to pay, dude.”

“What about one of those call girls?”

And, well. That was that.

You’d googled it after seeing her off to her own apartment, watching her wobbly form stagger across the hall and stab her key a few times into the wood before it landed in the lock. The door closed with an accidental slam which echoed up the stone stairwell, and you crept back to your own place.

Palms either side of your laptop on the counter, face lit in a blue glow, dripdripdrip of your busted tap echoing around your dark kitchen. They asked for an email address – you used the one you’d made up before you realized email addresses were permanent – and a phone number. Said someone would call you to discuss it. You shrugged, hit Sign up and went to bed.

Within hours, you’d spoken to some sharp-accented woman who asked quick, snappy questions and uhuhed her way through your answers. Her name was Erica. She told you she’d look after you, told you to call her with any questions or concerns you had.

All she wanted from you were the basics: you liked sex, you masturbated, you knew how to dirty talk. You sorta knew your way around things like anal, and could manage a convincing pitch for things of a more…exploratory nature.

And then she asked when you wanted to start. You told her that night.

Your first caller – like, ever – was some guy with a midwestern accent who asked you to narrate fucking him. Like, spanking him with a paddle, calling him a bad, bad boy. You threw your nerves to the wind and went along with it, and honestly, had a pretty rad time. He was cool.

But one was enough for your first night. You logged out and went to bed. You told Liv the next morning, and she punched your arm a little too hard and yelled, That’s my fuckin’ girl! Was it hot? Did you…y’know?

No. You never get that lucky. Some calls you can lie idly on your couch and let your limp hand surf beneath the hem of your underwear, push lazy circles against your clit as the dude moans in your ear or gasps when you whine.

Sometimes their mics can pick up the faint sound of them jacking off, and your brain slips you an image that makes your stomach flutter. Sometimes you’ll hang up and take yourself the whole nine yards with your laptop sitting on your mattress, porn on the screen, and your vibrator between your open legs.

It’s pretty intense work. Sometimes.

But all in all: no. You never…y’know.

One week in, you were cooking dinner whilst telling Trevor – thirty-nine, Buffalo, New York – how you’d take his huge, throbbing dick in your throat and let him fuck it. He asked to hear how turned on you were, just talking about it. You lowered your phone down to the pot of macaroni and gave it a stir.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned down the line, “you’re so fuckin’ wet right now, huh?”

Huh.

Tonight, you had pizza rolls. Less sexy.

You just got off another call. Thirty minutes of describing how good you’d take him up your ass. You’re bored, turned off by this point, and tired. It’s almost 3AM.

You pace around your apartment, flicking switches off and tossing cushions back into place. Spilling small sips of wine from your glass onto your tongue as you’re plunged into darkness, one click at a time.

You don’t get much while the sun’s up. Most days, nothing at all. That works for you, though. You can run errands, grab groceries, do sweet-fucking-nothing whilst waiting for the influx of calls that will inevitably come your way by nightfall. When the streetlights come on, the rush hour traffic dies out front, the shuffling of tired feet up the concrete staircase outside your front door slows down – you just log in, and your cell will eventually start to ring.

Your cell, which now lies wedged between the couch cushions. You notice the sound of it vibrating as you’re pulling your curtains closed. Half-way shut, you desert them and wander over. Intrigued.

No Caller ID. The usual. You swipe right. The robotic voice tells you there’s a request on your account for a ten-minute call. Tells you to dial 1 to accept, or hang up.

Ten minutes? At three in the morning?

Usually, at this time of night, they’re longer. They’re drunk, or their partner finally fell asleep, or they just want your attention for a bit. See them through the uncomfortably quiet night.

But ten fucking minutes?

Ten minutes would make you somewhere around thirty-five dollars. They had the option as the timer ran out to extend the call, if they wanted. Most of them did. And that worked fine for you.

You’re unemployed. Who knows what money you’ll have in a week’s time? An extra thirty bucks – probably more – right before bed? A little nightcap?

You dial in and answer the call.

He doesn’t say anything when it connects. You hear the ruffling of clothes.

Your voice naturally dips a couple octaves, coats in something smooth and husky. Glistening, gleaming, sex-driven. “Hello?”

He clears his throat. His voice is deep, rich. More vibration than speech. He speaks with a Southern drawl, like bare skin running over silken sheets. It’s smooth, and sensual, and sexy. “Evenin’.”

You knock the last light switch off with your hip and doddle through to your bedroom. Mornin’, actually. “Hi. What’re you after, baby?”

He takes a beat to reply. More ruffling. He chuckles a little before he says it. “Baby? That what you wanna call me?”

Your glass scrapes softly across your nightstand. You bounce down on your mattress, springs moaning as you roll onto your stomach. Knees bent, your ankles link in the air. “What do you want me to call you?”

“Guess we can figure that one out together.”

“Alright. I like a challenge. You wanna start with your name?”

Another pause. He sucks in a deep breath. “Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat, thumb picking at your nailbeds. “That’s a sexy name.”

He doesn’t respond. Just gives a non-committal grunt, and a smile pulls across your lips.

“What are you into, Joel?”

He sniffs. “Thought we could figure that out, too.”

Something in the way he says it, the curve in the words, maybe, tells you he knows damn well what he’s into. What he means is: you can figure that out by yourself.

Like you said: you like a fucking challenge.

“You like nicknames? Daddy? That kinda thing?”

A low growl passes his lips. “Not this early on, I don’t.”

You know from the hitch in his voice that he likes it. That little catch at the bottom of his throat, the way the words stumble on their way up. Know you’ve plucked a string deep inside.

“Well, you know you only got ten minutes, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“’kay,” you sing, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You exhale, drawing shapes on the pattern of your bedsheets. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinkin’ about, then? What’s on your mind, cowboy?”

Cowboy. It’s the accent. He sounds Texan, or something. His words float through the receiver all wound, coiled up and tight.

Joel doesn’t seem to care. He answers your question truthfully.

“Thinkin’ about what you’re doin’ right now.”

You smirk. Sometimes you like the attention, too. You turn your head, check the clock by your bed. Two minutes have passed.

“I’m…lying in bed, in the dark. Had a couple wines, feelin’ pretty good. But this is all about you, so.”

He chuckles softly. “’m lyin’ in bed, too. In the dark.”

“You feelin’ lonely?”

He takes another deep breath. You figure he does this before he gives most answers. He sounds the contemplative type. Always double, triple checking his sentences before he lets them go.

“Just need somethin’ to take the edge off.”

“Okay,” you breathe, “let me. What do you need?”

There’s a long break between the end of your question and the sound he makes before he answers. You pull the phone from your ear and glance at the screen to make sure it’s still connected. Time says another two minutes have passed.

Joel grumbles. It echoes around your ear like thunder in the distance. “You touchin’ yourself?” he eventually asks.

“Uhuh,” you reply, nails picking at a loose thread on your comforter.

“Yeah? How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you mewl, tugging at the seam. Your teeth grit as you yank at it. “So – fucking – good.”

There’s another growl from the other end. It vibrates through your speaker, purrs in your ear.

“You ain’t fuckin’ touchin’ yourself.”

Your hand stops. Your eyes stick on the thread. “I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how.”

You roll your eyes, turning onto your back. Your fingers play with the buttons of your shirt. Fuckin’ – tell me how. “I’m…” you sigh, “…I’m laying in bed, on my back. My hands are –”

“What you wearin’?”

“Isn’t that the sorta stuff you oughta ask when I first pick up?”

He speaks calmer. Clearer. You can hear the smile on his lips. “’m askin’ you now. What you wearin’, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. So he’s that type. Whatever. He’s kind of pissing you off.

“A shirt. And socks. And panties. No bra.”

“’n where you touchin’ yourself?”

You huff. “Between my –”

“Watch the attitude.”

You almost fucking laugh. Your breath escapes your chest in a silent burst. “Between my legs,” you tell him, flat and annoyed.

“Mhm. Above or beneath the panties?”

“Beneath, daddy.”

A tiny groan passes his lips. He doesn’t mean for it to, and a second, angry grumble follows, like he’s pissed at himself for letting it slip.

You take a lock of hair and twirl it around your finger, pulling tight until the tip whitens. “You touching yourself?” you ask, voice sickly sweet.

Joel ignores you. “Take it off. The shirt,” he clarifies, when you don’t answer.

You shuffle around a little, making sure he can hear the movement. You unbutton the shirt until it’s lying loose over your breasts, then tug it down over one shoulder.

“Alright,” you tell him with a heavy breath, laying back on the mattress, “it’s off.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Mhm.”

Joel chuckles under his breath. “Know when you’re lyin’, angel. Take – it – off. Don’t be a brat about it.”

This is half the game for him, you realize. This is his thing. He gives commands, you disobey them, and he kicks you into line. Tells you to behave.

You figure you like it almost as much, going by the heat pooling between your legs.

Your shoulders lift and you tug the shirt over them, tossing it to the floor. You lie back, bare against the sheets, and your hand instantly cups over your breast.

“Better,” Joel breathes.

“What now, baby?” you whisper, laughing to yourself. You’re palming at your breast, your fingers pulling in around your nipple. Your core begins to throb.

“You’re gonna touch yourself.”

“That what you want?”

“’s what I want, angel. Do it for me.”

You don’t take much more convincing. Your hand slips down your front, cups over your mound. You gasp when your fingertips brush against your clit.

Joel hears. “Yeah,” he hums, “’s a good girl. Take those panties off ‘n rub that pretty little clit for me.”

Your fingertips give one last kiss to the fabric of your panties. Your mouth tips open a fraction. You suck in a quiet breath, and push your hips up off the bed. The lace slips down your thighs in one motion.

Joel’s grunting steadily now, small noises slipping past his lips and into your ear. You spread your legs and push against your bud again, massaging the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whine, and he groans in response.

“I know, I know,” he’s saying, and you hear the metal tinkle of his belt buckle. The fraying sound of denim being shifted. One slow, relief-filled groan.

His hands are on his cock.

You’d put more effort into caring that he’s been fully clothed this entire time, if you could think straight. You’re applying more pressure to your clit, rubbing faster, harder, then letting your fingers drift downward, move between your gleaming folds.

“Wish I was there with you so bad,” Joel purrs, and your eyes flutter open.

“Yeah?” you choke.

“Yeah.”

“What would you – do to me?”

He shudders. “Would fuck you real good, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, fingers circling faster.

There’s a gentle tugging; a rhythmic breathing. The odd break in his voice when his hand tightens, or you make a sweet little sound, or he catches himself giving too much away.

“Fuckin’ – be all over you. Nice ‘n hard. You want that?”

“Mhm,” you mewl, panting. “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah, you do,” Joel says. You can hear the sticky sound of his precum, leaking from his tip and running between his fingers, being pumped down his shaft by his fist. “Feels good, angel, don’t it? When you do what you’re told?”

“Y-eah,” you whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you picture a tight fist choking a thick cock. Picture that same fist unwinding, curving around your mound, fingers pushing deep inside you.

“Joel,” you whimper, and your fingers move down again, dipping nearer your tight, wet hole.

He grunts in response. “Don’t – not yet,” he tells you.

You whine.

“You got somethin’ else to use?” he asks, then interrupts before you can answer. “Yeah, you do. Go get it, sweetheart. Tell me what you got.”

“V-vibrator,” you mumble, hoisting yourself up and lunging across the bed to your nightstand. You haul the drawer open and sift between balled-up socks until you’re clutching the long, thick shape, fingers tight around the dips and curves.

“Let me hear it, angel.”

You click the button and the toy whirrs to life, vibrating strongly in your hand.

Joel hisses. “Alright, sweetheart, lie back. Gonna put it on that pretty little pussy, alright? Gonna make yourself cum for me.”

“Uhuh,” you murmur, one hand lowering the vibrator between your legs, the other holding the phone to your ear in a vice grip.

You push the round tip down to your clit and your head falls back with a loud moan. Joel sends one straight back at the sound of yours. It fades into a whimper, a desperate cry as you massage yourself with your toy.

Your legs clench as you dip it lower, letting the head nudge against your entrance, sending flutters of pleasure across your dripping cunt.

“Don’t fuck yourself,” Joel instructs, and your hand quickly pulls back. “Save it.”

This mystery man, who you’ve known for – if your clock is right – eight minutes, now; whose name is the most information you’ve gotten out of him; and whose face you couldn’t pick in a lineup…has such a hold on you, that your body instinctively reacts to his every word. An automatic reaction to do exactly as he says, when, five minutes ago, you couldn’t wait to get him off the phone.

You fucking listen to him. Save it for what? your head asks, and you ignore it. You don’t push the toy any closer to your center.

It drives hard against your clit, fast vibrations rippling down on the hot, swollen skin. It sends floods of warmth between your legs, drawing your arousal slick and wet from between your folds.

Your chest is damp, gleaming with sweat. Your breath cuts short in your throat, guttural noises replacing it as they reverberate through your mouth, across your tongue and into your dark bedroom.

Your walls start to clamp around nothing. You angle the vibrator so that it sends deep pulses across your pussy, shutting your eyes to picture Joel’s thick cock burying deep inside you as you climax with a loud, broken cry.

“Yeah, good girl. That’s it. Sound so pretty, angel. ‘s a good girl.”

You’re whimpering his name as you come down, holding the toy to your clit and letting your high wash over you. Your chest jumps, breaths heavy and staggered, gasping for air and then letting it rush out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“You know how good you are at that?” he asks, when your breath steadies again.

You giggle softly. “’s why I do it, baby.”

“Worth every fuckin’ penny.”

You sit in the post-orgasm haze for a few seconds, waiting for the room to stop spinning and your body to feel like yours again. You pull the phone from your sweat-stuck cheek and glance at the time. You have less than thirty seconds left. Joel seems to do the same, for his voice returns to your ear in a gentle, low whisper.

“Alright. Speak soon, angel. Be good.”

The call cuts.

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taglist: @slvbl @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @acornacreacure @totallynotastanacc @alejaa-a @aphterthoughtt @pedroluver @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @lizzyervs @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @patti7dc @pattwtf @atticrissfinch @pascalpvnk @lizzyervs @jediknightjana @jessie8605 @iknowisoundcrazy @caitispunk @vickie5446 @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(psst! after this weekend my taglist is no more! follow @macfroglets + turn on notifs if you wanna be in the know when i post!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller x callgirl!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller

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eyelessfaces · 6 days

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uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again.

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you.

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest.

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience.

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there.

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement.

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.”

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff.

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here”

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice.

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fluff #star wars #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #poe dameron angst

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an-albino-pinetree · 5 months

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Hey folks, welcome to the blog! I’m Tree! 🌲 A quick note before the fun kicks off - I post NSFW/Suggestive stuff, as well as gore, and other topics folks might deem disturbing I'd greatly appreciate it if I could see your age in your bio, if you're interacting with my spicier work.

The thought of 17 and under individuals interacting with me, a 22 year old, makes me a more than lil wigged out, and I'm gonna be making a few changes, for my own wellbeing and the internet safety of others

This has been on my mind for a while now, I just didn't know how to approach it here.

So please put your age in your bio! I might have to start blocking people and I really don't wanna do that! and no, putting 18+ in your bio does not count for me!

haunted hotel au blog !- @welcome-tothe-harehotel

If you’re looking for the full l o r e of my ongoing super indulgent storyline, of my Amazing Digital Carnival “user” and Carnival!Jax, all that stuff should be under the tag # player tree! :]

#introductory post #inbox note #tree talks #🎄

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54bpm · 1 year

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Tips For Vtubers

Howdy there, I’m Liv and I’m a vtuber much like you, but I’ve been here the whole time so I’m here to compile stuff for you to help make your transition less scary.

To start, here’s is a post with a lot of tips for general tumblr use and here’s one for giving your blog a custom theme.

Beyond that here’s other things that aren’t mentioned but are gonna be relevant for you:

If you’re coming back to tumblr know that you can’t follow from your sideblog, if you want to follow back it will be from your main, as will your likes, replies, asks. Decide what to do with this information now before you settle into a blog.

Fully explore the settings, there's a ton of stuff hiding in there. AND do it on PC at least once, some stuff is not in the app.

Blogs have individual block lists, no idk why either. So if you want someone banned from everything you need to do that manually.

Also enable tumblr Labs! It’s got reblog graphs which are rad (my beloved orbs) And alternate dashboards, the Blog Subscriptions one is my fave because it means all you have to do is turn on notifications to get all your fave guys in one dashboard.

Contrary to popular belief there is still a porn and adult content community here, if you want to get anywhere near them you have to have age in bio or they’ll smite you. EDIT: I posted more about how to navigate lewdposting here.

Tiktok embeds don't play nice with tumblr for some reason, if you also do tiktok then just reupload your videos and link your account there underneath.

The link post type will show up for your followers but there’s a chance it won’t show up in any tags, so don’t do going live posts like that.

BUT you can straight up embed your stream into your posts! As long as you're using the New Post Editor you should see this menu:

Click the video camera, link to your twitch and bam. There it is. You can also do this with the video post type! If you're ever worried about your post format getting bonked just go through the tags and see what posts that DO make it are doing. Together we can overcome spaghetti code.

General "tumblr culture" is to not comment on posts but its not one thats set in stone, your fellow small vtuber account is probably dying for interaction so comment on posts! scream in the tags! send funny asks! Getting interaction right now is going to be a big comfort during a weird time.

Oh yeah we have ask boxes built in, no marshmallow needed.

ALSO we have pinned posts just like twitter, but as long as you want! Put your ref & socials & art tag (yes you can keep your fanart tags) & your minors DNI & a picture of your cat if you want.

OH I do suggest picking out tags for your personal content if you plan to also do reblogging, makes it easy for newcomers to find what you're doing.

#vtuber and #indie vtuber are full of fanart for the big guys. If you wanna find each other use #vtuber uprising

Okay this post is getting so long but final tip: check out custom pages. They're on the custom theme menu and they're basically mini webpages on your blog that can have their own coding. You can do Literally Whatever. Lore! Credit page! Ref sheets! I once put a choose your own adventure where you navigated by clicking specific parts of a picture on tumblr pages. I Mean Anything.

That's all for now, please add other tips if you want. And please reblog! Not just this post but other peoples too! This will all be way less of a drag if we can find each other. 💖

EDIT: One more thing, lolisho shit Does Not Fly here. They are some of the only tags that tumblr has actually shadowbanned and there is a reporting criteria for it to get taken down. It also doesn't fly on my blog! Begone!!

#vtuber #indie vtuber #vtuber uprising #envtuber #livs words #i felt like a specific to us post would b good #since we have specific stuff to worry about like going live posts n etc #also please do themes i wanna see yall go apeshit #post edit #while i doubt that tumblr has the vibes that makes people think lolisho would be welcome here #the post is starting to get big enough that its worth mentioning #resource #tutorial

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quin-ns-moved · 2 years

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Crazy For You (Tangerine x Reader)

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you sneak onto the bullet train to wish tangerine good luck in your own way

Tags: (18+), humor/banter, flirting, kissing, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, wall sex (technically it’s a door lol), risk of getting caught, porn with very little plot, bullet train spoilers (not really but just in case)

A/N: went and saw bullet train and I am obsessed with this man!! I just had to write for him cus I’m having massive tangerine brain rot right now he’s so fine

Cross-posted to ao3

Edit: check out my new blog with more writing @quin-ns

They were on the train, they had the White Dragon’s son, and Lemon had the briefcase. They were good, everything was going according to plan.

That is, until he got a text.

‘look up’

His brows furrowed at the message. Then he looked up.

“Everything alright, Tangerine?” Lemon asked him, watching in confusion as his counterpart smiled.

Tangerine stood from his seat without a word and made his way to the door leading to the little space between carts. It opened and in a matter of seconds he was staring down at you with an amused albeit confused look.

“What are you doing here?” he asked you.

“I came to see you, obviously,” you told him as if he should’ve been able to guess—which he should’ve. “It’s a dangerous mission, I wanted to wish you luck.”

“You came all the way to Tokyo to wish me luck?” Tangerine questioned, sensing an ulterior motive.

“Well…” you stepped closer to him, leaving very little space between the two of you. You had to look up just to see his face. “Maybe a little more than that,” you confessed.

Tangerine shook his head. “You are absolutely crazy, you know that?”

You grinned. “Crazy for you, maybe.”

“That was really cheesy,” he commented, feigning unamusement.

You shrugged. “I know.”

Then, you grabbed him by the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him down to your height, allowing you to press your lips against his. Tangerine fell into the kiss easily, his lips moving against yours.

It was over all too soon for his liking. You took a small, excited breath and smirked at him. Then, you turned your head and looked through the little window on the door.

Lemon had spotted you and you laughed, offering him a wave. You couldn’t hear him, but you saw as Lemon scoffed out what you hoped was a laugh then turned back around.

“You should text him and let him know you’re gonna be occupied until the next stop,” you told Tangerine, looking back up at him. “I know he worries about you.”

His brows furrowed again in intrigue. “Occupied, huh?”

“I confess.” You took his hand and led him into the next cart. You pressed up on your toes to whisper in his ear. “I didn’t come all the way here just to wish you luck.”

That’s when Tangerine noticed you had stopped in front of a bathroom. You reached for the door and opened it. “They’re surprisingly clean,” you commented as you stepped inside. You faced Tangerine, who was still standing just outside the door.

“Well?”

“You are definitely crazy,” he said decidedly. Then, he stepped into the restroom and closed the door behind him.

You had to bite back a smile when you heard the lock click.

“Y’know, if I started working with you I could see you all the time,” you mused aloud. “I get along with Lemon, I’m good with people, and I can fire a gun.”

Tangerine stepped close to you. “Last I remember, you called my work ‘stupid, reckless, and dangerous’,” he recalled teasingly.

“Yeah,” you admitted, closing the gap between the two of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “But then I thought about it… and I miss you too much when you’re gone.”

Tangerine sighed. “You know I’d love to have you with me all the time, but like you said before. This work is dangerous and I could never live with myself if something happened to you.”

It was true. Tangerine knew that if you accompanied him on missions, he wouldn’t be able to focus. He’d be too worried about all the horrible things that could happen to you. And if one of them did? He didn’t even want to think about it. While he worried about Lemon, he knew Lemon could look out for himself. And sure, maybe you could too, but his overprotectiveness of you wouldn’t allow him to even give you the opportunity. So yeah, Tangerine needed you where he knew you would be safe.

“Plus, I like knowing that I have you to look forward to when I come home,” Tangerine added.

You let out a dramatic sigh, but it was lighthearted. “Fine,” you agreed. “But I even thought of a name for myself.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Tangerine wondered, looking down at you with interest.

“Cherry,” you revealed. “Y’know, since you’re Tangerine, Lemon is Lemon… it fits the theme.”

“That’s clever.” Tangerine sounded amused.

You hummed, clearly proud of yourself. Your fingers reached to brush the ends of his soft, curly hair.. “I know. I’m clearly a genius.” The teasing sarcasm in your voice made him exhale a laugh. “And if you were smart… you’d kiss me while we still have time.”

The tone in the small room changed then. Your seductive words ignited the flame inside of him, reminding him of why the two of you were where you were in the first place.

He leaned down to kiss your waiting lips and a soft moan escaped at the need behind it.

“We have to be quick, I get off at the next stop,” you reminded in a breathless whisper against his lips. The realization that there was a ticking clock finally set in with Tangerine.

His hands were all over you in a flash, grasping at any available flesh to feel your skin against his. His kiss was rough and passionate, tasting you and expressing his desire. His mustache scratched your nose a bit but you didn’t care, all you could focus on was his tongue exploring your mouth.

No matter how clean the restroom was, he wasn’t touching the ground. Good thing there was a perfectly good door behind you—it looked fairly sturdy. Tangerine backed you up against it, his lips never leaving yours.

Your hands left his neck in order to slip between your bodies. Your nimble fingers landed on the buckle of his belt, working quickly to undo it.

He mindlessly rocked against you, rubbing his bulge against your waiting hand. The contact made him shudder, it had been a while since he’d been with you. He missed you—missed this. He didn’t realize the ache for you was there until he saw you. God, he was lucky to have you.

When his large hand fell to grip your bare thigh you gasped. Tangerine smiled against your lips.

“You wore a skirt,” he commented, just now realizing. He withdrew to look down at your exposed legs below the black fabric.

“I did say we had to be quick,” you replied cheekily.

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” He said, never failing to be amazed by you.

You didn’t get a chance to respond because his lips were crashing into yours. At the same time, Tangerine’s other hand landed on your other thigh. Both hands then tucked under and he hoisted you up, pinning you between his body and the door. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

One of Tangerine’s hands moved between your legs. His thumb brushed along your clothed core gently, making you gasp. Then, he pulled your underwear aside and began pressing one thick finger inside of you. You were already wet for him, which made it easy to slide his finger in entirely—and then another.

You moaned gently, your head falling back against the door.

“You sound so pretty like this,” he commented under his breath.

Words failed you as his thick, skilled fingers worked you open—getting you ready for him.

You lost track of time, succumbing to the feel.

Then, very sudden to you, his hand left you. You whined at the loss, lifting your head slightly.

Between your bodies, you could see his hand frantically moving to push his pants and boxers down around his thighs. You felt his cock spring free and a quiver of excitement coursed through you.

He lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your center.

“You ready?” he asked, being the gentleman he always was.

“Yeah,” you replied in a slight pant. Your legs tightened around him. The anticipation was killing you, but you wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

Your nails dug into his back as he started pushing into you. You bit your lip to muffle the moan that threatened to escape you at the feel of him filling you slowly. He was long and thick, stretching you out in the best way possible.

When he was completely enveloped by you, Tangerine let out a shaky sigh. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your neck, his mustache slightly tickling the skin.

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” His voice was breathy and the question was rhetorical.

“I thought I was crazy,” you replied sassily.

Tangerine exhaled a quick laugh as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. You were mesmerized by his shining blue eyes as he said, “that too,” with a flash of white teeth. His smile grew as he continued. “And I fucking love it.”

Then, suddenly, he was withdrawing from your body only to slam himself back inside in one motion. This time, he didn’t stop. Tangerine set a quick pace, his thick fingers digging into the supple skin of your thighs in order to hold you in place for him.

His cock inside you was like heaven, every stroke sending sparks of pleasure through your body. He’d taken the time to learn your body. He knew what spots to hit, what speed to use, how to get you there quick.

You were already falling apart in his grasp. Your head dropped to his shoulder, muffling your moans against the fabric of his fancy suit. Your arms stayed locked around him, holding on because there’s nothing more you could do.

There was a light thump that echoed through the small room as the force of his movements rattled the door behind you.

Tangerine focused on the feel of your body connected to his, knowing in only a few minutes you’d be leaving. He needed to make your time together count.

Your warm, wet walls welcomed him with every rough thrust. Your body shuddered around him, squeezing down on his cock as he forced you both towards the edge.

“I’m close,” you gasped out in his ear.

“Me too,” he admitted. Neither of you were going to last very long but given the time constraint, that was for the best.

Tangerine kept up his motions, bringing each of you closer. You were both far gone, lost in the sensation.

Until a loud pounding on the door behind you echoed through the room.

Your eyes went wide, looking at him, unsure of what to do.

“Occupied!” Tangerine yelled hoarsely, not slowing down. He didn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to (which he didn’t). You would have laughed if you weren’t trying to conceal your moans even more than before. You couldn’t risk getting caught, you’d both be thrown off the train.

Someone cursed in Japanese, but the knocking stopped. Whoever it was, hopefully they were gone.

The world outside was quickly forgotten as one of Tangerine’s hands moved between your legs. The cold brush of one of his big, gold rings against your warm skin made you shiver. The pad of his thumb found your bundle of nerves and the pressure he applied made gasp.

He leaned in and tilted his head, resting his lips by the shell of your ear. “You know what I want,” he whispered, making you shiver. “Are you going to give it to me?”

Your answer was nonverbal. His cock hit the right spot inside of you over and over, and combined with his thumb in your clit, you were a goner.

Your whole body tensed and tightened around him. You grasped him tighter, trying to hold yourself steady as your whole body convulsed around him. Your head fell back and one hand flew to cover your own mouth, muffling the cries of pleasure as your orgasm washed over you.

Tangerine was not far behind, pinning your pliant body against the door as he chased his own release. You didn’t mind being used, he’d made sure you got yours first. He always did.

Moments later, his thrusts got sloppy and you felt him shiver. He slammed into your waiting body one last time, then held you against him as his cock twitched inside of you.

The hand that was previously covering your mouth slapped over his, silencing his deep moan as he spilled inside of you.

After a few moments, you withdrew your hand. You watched him breathlessly, taking in the look of pleasure on his face. The sweat brimming his hairline, the slight flush in his cheeks, the way his curly hair had fallen slightly in his face.

“See something you like?” he quipped between breaths.

“You know I do,” you replied smoothly.

The two of you stayed like that for a few more breaths before Tangerine was pulling away from you. He helped you back to your feet, pulling your underwear back into place and adjusting your skirt.

He then tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt. He glanced in the mirror that was on the far wall and ran a hand—the one that hadn’t been between your legs—through his hair, pushing it back into place.

You opened your mouth to speak, but beneath your feet you felt a slight jerk and realized the train had come to a stop.

“Perfect timing,” you commented instead.

Tangerine let out a sigh, disappointed your time together was over. You pulled him into a quick kiss, which he responded to.

“Be safe,” you told him when you parted from him.

Your concern made him smile. “For you? Count on it,” he replied.

Then, he was watching your back as you unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. You slipped out quickly, needing to get off the train in under a minute. Once he was alone, Tangerine sighed again.

Someone then stepped into the doorway, an older looking lady, who began speaking to him loudly. Probably yelling at him to get out.

“Fuck off,” he snapped back, pushing past her to get back to his cart.

He caught a glimpse of you on the train station platform and much to his luck, you saw him. You blew him a kiss as the door closed. Then, you were gone. It made his heart ache a little, he was man enough to admit that to himself.

Tangerine found his seat again and came face to face with Lemon—who looked very unamused.

“Welcome back,” he greeted sarcastically. “We’re on a serious mission, I hope you had your fun.”

The annoyed tone in Lemon’s voice made him crack a smirk. Because guess what? He had.

#my writing #tangerine x reader #tangerine #bullet train #bullet train imagine #bullet train fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #lemon

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lorlita · 9 months

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⁺　　.　　　♡　　ㆍ　　﹒

┈ ❀ 500 milestone! ∿

i’m gonna try to write a shorter msg this time but im honestly really surprised that I reached 500 and that I’m halfway to 1k like it feels unreal and I’d like to thank @baesol + @wonlita + @yeritos who inspired me to start my own tumblr blog! when i first made this account, i didn’t really post anything until i got motivation to and im really thankful!! tysm!! i love u all soso much

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┈ ❀ these are all of my favorite blogs!! go follow them + they’re so sweet! ∿

@gwryus @baesol @i-minju @i-jiwon @seulgios @sseulr1n @isamiracle @yeritos @yeonitos @yeinlita @wonlita @welos @reyyy17 @v-eona @v6mpcat @v-ico @iluvrei @y-ujin @y-ves @y-unjins @m-ieu @mazeui @miobliss @mindios @chaey2k @contexty @coriette @w-onki @dollienini @dclliee @haeivn @hyeism @s-heon @florietas @fuckici @trivijoy @i-telepatia @i6yunjins @wiotas @wintys @mazeui @111polaris @yourstrulyevie @k-yujin @y2qi @softkiseu @eunsite @eundior + many others that i probably forgot to tag (not in order) & the 50 tag limit💔💔

#lorlita #500 milestone!

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 26 days

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @trulybetty! I have no idea how you can work on multiple things at once, but kudos to you for that. I'm jealous of your ability to do it.💜

So, for this Wednesday's update, I bring you a snippet from Week 2 of Closed Position and some fun extras. Enjoy!

As we reached the end of the choreography we had pieced together so far, I glanced toward the hallway windows. Alec was gone. My eyes met Dieter’s, “Let’s take a water break.” He nodded before pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I couldn’t help the way my eyes raked over his exposed skin. I had to force myself to turn away from him as I drank from my water bottle. “Alec doesn’t like me, does he?” Dieter asked from behind me before taking a drink of his own water. I casually turned to him, “He’s concerned about your womanizing ways. I guess he’s worried you're gonna steal me away from him or something.” Dieter smirked, “I mean, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to…” My brows arched in surprise at his words. I absolutely cannot handle him saying shit like that to me. I could already feel the effects of his words and that devilish smirk pulsing between my thighs.

What's that? Do we have flirting? Maaaaaybe. It's mostly Dieter being an unintentional menace...but we’ll take it. Right?

I pretty much have this chapter done (I think). I still have editing to do though. It’s long AF (around 15k words). I’m hoping to post by Friday. 😉

I have a few other gifts to offer. First, head on over HERE to check out this amazing video that @survivingandenduring was kind enough to put together for Closed Position. It's hot and has all the Dieter & Kat ✨vibes✨. I’m still screaming over it!

Second, I have started working on a playlist for Closed Position. I will be adding to it as inspiration strikes. I also plan to add the songs used for Dieter & Kat's performances. Week 2's song is already on the list. Want to take a guess on which song it is?

NPT: @morallyinept @rhoorl @for-a-longlongtime

Closed Position Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held

*If your name is marked out, that means it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #plant dad dieter #dancing king #wip wednesday #closed position series #closed position teaser #Spotify

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3-2-whump · 4 months

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Updated Intro Now That I Kinda Get How This Works:

Hello! It's 32W. I’ve been a long time lurker who finally wants to be part of this community! I’ve been into whump pretty much forever (since my formative years in the single digits), but Iv’e been reading, writing, and drawing whump on and off for the last 15 years. I can’t imagine getting to the point of feeling confident enough to post my own work, but who knows? My partner is probably getting tired of hearing how I want to torment my OC’s, so that is another motivation to start this side blog! For now though it’s probably gonna be very reblog-heavy.

Obligatory warning: minors DNI. Please. There’s gonna be nasty stuff on this blog probably.

Likes and Interests

Slavery whump

Captivity whump

Pet whump (not exactly BBU, but BBU’s not bad)

Noncon/NSFW -will tag!

Noncon body mod -e.g., branding, tattooing, piercing

Kidnapping

Bondage

Caretaking

Communication barrier (language barrier, nonverbal whumpee, etc.)

G/t dynamics -relatively new interest but I like it

Squicks (that how you say it? Things I don’t like)

Medical/lab whump

Gore -experimenting with mild gore, but I cannot handle a lot right now

Most hero/villain tropes -no shade, I’m just not into it

Supernatural whump -by this I mean magic and stuff. Again, nothing bad about it, just not really into it

Sickfics

I have a Masterlist now

Special thanks goes out to @burnticedlatte @demondamage @whumperofworlds @poc-whump and other blogs and the people behind them who inspired/encouraged the making of this blog. You guys are awesome ❤️

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accio-victuuri · 6 months

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“big name bxg c-fans earn a lot because cpf give their money to them instead of xz and wyb.” 💀

I wanted to address this comment i saw yesterday but I had to organize my thoughts first as best as i could. I also knew GRA events are gonna take up a lot of my time so i had push it back. However, i want to post about it here even if the topic associated to this didn’t blow up that much (thankfully) cause it irritated me. I’m very used to certain fans having a skewed view of bxgs. I understand that no matter what we say, the prejudice is too heavy to even see reason.

So this is more of to explain to bxgs how this statement is completely wrong and why it shouldn’t even be said in the first place.

Let’s start with the context.

On 11/2, when there was supposed to be an entertainment ban, a few hot search tags popped up. The boys’ name or even BXG was not on it but it sort of involved the fandom. The gist is this person is a former big name BXG account back in 2019 who is now a yxh. They earned a lot from that work and was able to buy “ 8 houses”. That was actually what got on HS, the idea that someone who is working as a yxh can be that rich.

I guess people missed the fact that this person earned the money from yxh “work” and not being a BXG account. Some just saw “bxg” so they made a connection and so the comment i posted above was a common statement. The fact that XZ and WYB are top stars too added to the conversation.

First of all, being a big name account that posts about XZ and WYB back in 2019 isn’t that hard. Untamed was at it’s peak that time and so were the active fans. The drama was airing. They had appearances and were practically everywhere. It would not take that much to get the likes, follows and engagement for 2 people that had a lot of content going on. After that, when 2020 rolled in, I understand how some people on the c-side of things will fall off. They probably had new interests and I think the same goes for that account. They were there at the height of it and learned how being a profitable blog works. So I wanna say that this fan was seasonal. To say that they “represent” all big name bxg blogs is totally unfair.

Next i wanna address the concept of profit and “cpfs giving money to big name accounts”.

The easiest way is engagement to a blogger’s post. It may not be me giving the money in my pocket to them literally but they get earnings from engagement & through ads/ affiliate links. This concept is not new to BXGs. It’s the same as any other influencers out there. So the accusation of spending money to big name accounts instead of supporting the boys — in this case is misleading.

You can argue that a regular person, even so/os fall in this trap when they engage with blatant anti accounts. When they comment and share those posts, they give them the engagement.

Now there are two other ways that bxgs give their actual money to these big name accounts.

1. Fansites. Those that share HQ photos and videos of them during events. How they make money aside from engagement is selling photo-books. What’s important to remember tho is there is an unspoken rule among these sites ( not just bxg ones ) that a huge part of the earnings will be spent on charity and buying endorsements by the boys. they post receipts. Not everyone of them is perfect and some have their own issues and closed down but that’s just how it goes.

2. Fan artists. The concept of fan art & merch have long been alive and is honestly one of the best things about fandom. It gives a chance to artists to make something and earn from it. I have to say that this is the more lucrative one cause the really popular ones have their products ( usually the dolls ) sell out so fast and have months of waiting list. The same fan sites, there is a rule for them to use the money for charity.

Here is a post I made before about some of those charities but that’s a very small list compared to the actual initiatives that were done for years.

As for supporting the boys, these accounts buy endorsements, magazines of them in the cover ( in bulk ), organize LED ads for their birthdays or fandom anniversaries, sponsor peripherals for bxg gatherings, host block screenings for movies etc.

Lastly, however someone spends the money they earned is none of anyone’s business. These people on the internet thinking it’s okay to gloat about how they are the “best fan” out there because of how much they spend on a celebrity is so crass. It’s like giving Yibo a gift and leaving all the tags on cause you want him to know exactly how much you spent on him.

I appreciate fans that do spend. I really do. It helps alot with their brand value and career. I personally buy merch and watch content on paid platforms. However it should not be a way to measure someone’s worth as a fan. There is no need to shame people who want to spend their money elsewhere and not XZ or WYB. This kind of toxic mindset is largely prevalent in c-ent fandoms that some international fans are adapting. If there is something that the CCP and I agree on, it’s that this practice shouldn’t be demanded of fans. The idea of “how dare you spend on something you like” ( whether it’s a product from a big name fan or whatever ) exposes whoever is saying it as that kind of brainwashed fan.

So anyway, participate in the fandom in a way that you are comfortable with. We all have different approaches on how we take part in it and there is really no need to keep receipts. ✌🏼

#personal #fandom #bxgs #bxg #yizhan #bjyx

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keeponquinning · 6 months

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Here with Me — The Pros and Cons — Part One

Joseph Quinn x Latina!Fem!Novelist!Reader — RPF — 18+

word count — 19.5k

summary — it's your birthday weekend and you're working. at the local con in LA, so things could be worse. you have your friends with you, as you're going through a dry spell, creatively. in between signings and a lot of nothing to do, you go to the nearby bar with your friends to kill the time before your late night panel with your peers and one trip from your table to the bar? well... that's the start of everything....

warnings — first off, RPF!! if not your thing, scroll! be nice, if thinking of being mean, think twice! i hope that rhymed. no smut in this chapter, though there are adult talk, cursing, reader is latina ( that shouldn't be a warning but kinda a heads up ) and there is some talk of that. bit of a surprise guest near the end ( think big blue eyes ) mention of porn. reader has a personality, if that's not your thing.... I understand. i tried to make this as entertaining as possible, no use of y/n. bit of mama joe and also a bit of pervy joe, but loads of charming joe.

notes — god, this was a LONG time coming. i'm trying to concentrate on this series, so i'll be working on part two as soon as i post this, but slowly. editing for the first time was fun, def added and changed a few stuff. so i hope it flows a bit nicer. i hope ya'll like this, it was fun to write and share with a few friends, shout out to @quinnypixie as being my beta in the way of me sending pages bc i'm a slut for comments and validation lmao saying that, please leave a comment if you liked this!! I appreciate the likes, of course, but nothing makes me more giddy than comments. only if you want, of course, but if you're feeling shy, so don't be! i wanna hear your guys take on this. i have total tinkerbell syndrome, i need applause to LIVE. enjoy guys!

tagging — @babybluebex , @quinnypixie , @inourtownofhawkins , @musicoverall , @seatnights , @figmentofquinn , @birdysaturne, @tomhollandseyes , @notverywise , @live-love-be-unique , @shanalynnphotos , @mmunson86 , @haylaansmi , @cestpresqueparfait , @iaminlovewithdilfs , @anaofthebarricade , @wolfiescosplay , @ailathealternate , @maximus2354, @j0qw , @missonlypost , @stabthecrab , @hanavakiih , @mrsmunsonxquinn , @rhapsodicaesthete , @elain00 , @drawdownthem00n , @munson-enthusiast , @roset01 , @alyssaaaaa-r , @josephmunson99 , @munsonsgirl71 , @ariegoldhouse , @rainbowbubbles9 , @justheretoreadleavemealone , @muns0nslov3r , @bluegalaxyprime , @k-corbett , @eddiemunsonsrighttoe , @rememberwhen-it-rained , @thoughtsoftheantagonist , @pvssy-destroyer , @joescigarettes , @jasminearondottir , @joeqluver , @babybat-95

( note, some of you i tried to tag but your blog wouldn't show up, if anyone knows a fix for this, let me know! )

wanna be tagged? click here and like the masterlist!

It always strikes you as odd that a big wall of noise could drive you crazy anywhere else — except at a bar and grill. Then, it seems comforting, almost, the sounds of clinking glasses, laughter… The floating of bits of conversation slithering into your ear, heard, but not quite understood. There was an odd sense of comfort to it, the scents of food wafting in the air as well, which made you thankful for the food in front of you.

The food that was intended to be shared was most definitely not.

How annoying.

“Why are you guys sleeping on the loaded fries?” came your voice, after scarfing down yet another forkful and chased it with a coke. Looking at your friends, sticking to their own plates of mozzarella sticks and onion rings, you let out a laugh. “I’m gonna end up eating this whole damn plate and then hearing about me being greedy and not sharing, you know this.”

Your brows raised at your best friend and her fiancé, their dishes having been shared with each other, half and half. “I’m feeling like you’re putting me down for my love of fries with,” you paused, plucking a clean edged one, “...creamy nacho cheese sauce, bacon, scallions, and mm, sour cream.” Popping it into your mouth, you lean back in your seat, the sounds of the bar swirling around you, chuckling softly. “What gives?”

Jen, your best friend, rolled her eyes. “You think I don’t want some?”

“You haven’t reached at all for it, not commented on it, nothing, which is unusual for you, wench.”

“Oh, I want some. I want some so bad! But…” She leaned back, dipping her mozzarella stick in marinara, “I’m being good, and leaving your plate alone. No mooching food from the birthday girl, that’s my rule.”

Ah. Right. There was that. A smile stretched across your face as you watched her bite and pull the mozzarella stick away, impressed by the cheese pull. “How uncharacteristically kind of you.”

“It was my suggestion,” the male voice of Gerry piped up. “Trust me, she would have demolished it by now if I didn’t.”

“It looks so good,” Jen concurred, shaking her head. “We’re getting one.” Dusting her hands together. “Gerry, we’re getting one and we’re splitting.”

Gerry raised his brows, “Meaning… I get a few and it’s mainly you.”

“Obviously,” his fiancée let out, as if there was even a need to question it.

You chuckled, feeling a bit brighter with your friends there. Jen and Gerry being more like a lifeline when you really needed it. And today? This weekend? You most definitely did. “What about we get some sliders, too? I still got… One panel later. The late panel, the spicy panel, so I gotta get my wit on high and I can’t do that if I’m hungry. And fries, as lovely as they are… Won’t cut it.”

“How was it?” Jen asked, taking one of Gerry’s onion rings, dipped in ranch before taking a bite.

“The signing?” Once she nodded, you let out a sigh, sinking back into your seat. “I… It was okay. I mean, it’s pretty awesome that people still read my books. Even bringing physical copies, I fucking love that, but…” A groan left you, tilting your head up toward the ceiling. “God, I wish I had something more substantial to say when they ask me when’s the next book coming out or…if I’m working on something. Instead of just putting on that forced smile and whipping out an upbeat, ‘we’ll see!’ I almost wanna admit I have nothing, but half-baked ideas and blank pages and I actually have no idea when or if that’s ever gonna change.”

And that was the rub of it. The reason you had wished you skipped the convention this time around. You loved them, usually. Loved meeting your readers, talking and discussing the industry and process with your fellow writers — most of whom you admired and couldn’t believe they even knew you. But the fact you had nothing but your past books to draw from, no new content to share, it was starting to weigh heavily on you. Not feeling as active as you should be. You felt as if you were letting everyone down — and, oh yeah, it was your birthday. Nothing like a birthday to really hammer in the fact that more time has passed and nothing to show for it.

You felt a heavy boot, the heel nudging your foot harshly enough to let out a soft cry. Furrowed brow lifted, narrowing your eyes at Gerry. “Ow. What the fuck, dude?”

Brushing back his long, dark locks from his face, he leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “You know you’re going to do it, right?” he asked, eyeing you. “It’s not like you’re sitting around and doing nothing, you’re active. You come up with ideas — half baked, yeah, but they’re ideas. Do you know how many songs end up in the trash bin before I even play it for the other guys? So many. It’s the same thing, those half-written stories you scrap, there just hasn’t been a story that stuck, that’s worth reaching toward an end. It’ll come, it’s not like a hobby for you, we all know that. You just gotta remember that for yourself.”

Jen looked impressed, smiling at Gerry, brushing her fingers through his hair. “He’s right, you know,” she added, looking at you. “C’mon, Wench, I know it’s been….”

“Two years,” you finish for her, brows rising. “It’s been two fucking years…”

“Yeah, okay, it’s been two fucking years. It happens, okay? It doesn’t mean anything—”

Oh, God, you thought and instinct took over, leading you to stand up from the table, a quick, “Yup, I’m gonna get those fries and sliders, yeah? Another round of drinks?”

Jen looked at you, crossing her arms in front of her, tilting her head. “I fucking know you. This is a rough patch, a dry spell, things that are temporary…” Trying hard for you to listen, brows raised. “You got this.”

In your head, or at least in some small part, you knew she was right. That they both were right. It wasn’t just empty words being used to placate you; they knew you. Always honest with you, never were they the people that would bullshit you just to build you up and have nothing to back it up. Self-doubt was a bitch, though, and instead of taking it to heart, you took a deep breath, put on a smile and said, “We’ll see.” Pushing yourself away from the table, ignoring the furrowed brow on Jen, pointing to the glasses in front of them, “Another round, loaded fries and sliders.”

With a sigh, she gave a nod, “Yeah, yeah that sounds good. This talk isn’t over, but I’ll let it slide for your birthday.”

You let out a laugh, giving a nod. “Very kind of you, Wench.” Smiling at them both, you turn toward the bar and head off. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she called out, leaning back in her seat. “Okay, what are we gonna do with her?”

Light colored eyes looked over at her, lifting his hand to gesture between them, “...this. What we’re doing now.”

Brows rose at that, challengingly at him. “...and that would be…?”

Giving her a shrug, he said, quite simply, “Being here. Encouraging…” Leaning over to her, equally as challenging as she was. “...but not forcing it.”

A heavy sigh left your best friend's lips, knowing Gerry was right, but not liking it. “Yeah, okay,” she relented, eyeing your plate with a handful of fries, letting out a huff as she pulled the plate towards herself. She met Gerry’s raised brows, raising her own, “What? She’s getting more, this doesn’t count,” taking a forkful and into her mouth with a moan. “I knew it. So good.”

He laughed, shaking his head, plucking one of his onion rings.

It was crowded, it was summer, the tail end of it where it lingered longer than anyone would have liked and yearned for the fall — though pumpkin spice would be on everyone’s mind early anyway. The first day of the convention weekend, as well, made the bar crowded and buzzing with excitement from its patrons. There was some pity for those heavy in costume, the layers of clothing would not do well with the insistent heat, though you found yourself admiring the wardrobe anyway. Still, you were grateful for the summer attire of cut off jean shorts, a tank top and — a flannel shirt you wore open that was currently sitting at the back of your chair at your table with your friends. It was worn more for modesty’s sake during the afternoon when you were in work mode, but the heat of the weather and the people buzzing around you? Fuck modesty, you were hot.

Your ankle boots were probably not the smartest choice, admittedly, and you hated cliches, however… They were your favorite pair, your cutest pair, and it was your birthday, so you wanted to indulge. Remarkably comfortable with the heel, thank the retail gods for padded cushions at the balls of your feet, but it did make getting across a room of crowded people…difficult.

Twisting and turning to swerve and weave in between, your lips in a constant state of letting out sorry and excuse me, sorry, you started to curse at yourself for doing this on your own. Hindsight is a bitch like that, you’re finding. You smile helplessly as you pass by a couple, one dressed as Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer, quite notably, before turning and that’s when it happened. An uneven crack on the floor, just inches from the bar, and the toe of your treasured booties? Yeah, hit right smack into it, making your body lurch forward. The worst fear hitting you, much like the floor would be soon, you were going to eat it. You were going to fall and smack your head on the floor. Fuck. Fuck. In a crowd of people who, coincidentally, seemed to have parted because suddenly all you could feel was air.

And then a strong pair of arms, steady hands and warm chest.

Suddenly you weren’t meeting the floor but standing upright with unsteady feet still firmly on the ground. Strong hands were holding you along your waist, your hands gripping tight onto pair forearms, heart racing, mind reeling. Did that just happen? Jesus Christ. You leaned forward, plush against his chest. Very warm, broad shoulders, crisp linen buttoned shirt and… Smelling really good, not recognizing the scent, male cologne, sort of woodsy with a bit of citrus. A sharp contrast to the scent of lavender and vanilla of some off brand perfume you got from Amazon. His scent, it even smelled of a big brand, expensive bottle, the ones you’d never bring yourself to buy yourself. But it smelled really good.

“Shit, you okay?” came his voice, sounding warm yet concerned, but the accent was what you cling onto the most. As it always did when you heard an accent clearly not American. “You almost—”

“Yeah, yeah, that…” Your eyes widened, straightened your back, eyes flashing to his for a mere second before looking at the bar, brows raising. “Oh god, if I tripped… If I fell…” Taking a deep breath, realizing your earlier thought of hitting the floor was off the mark, in actuality… “Oh, I would have hit my head right smack at the edge. I would’ve died. I would have bled, it would have been such a mess around all these people, oh, that would’ve been embarrassing.”

He gave a snort, and if you looked up, you would have seen his brows raised and an amused smile stretch over his face. “...I… I’m not sure embarrassing would be quite the word. Traumatic, horrible, something along those lines, surely...”

But you shook your head, “No, no, if I were to die on my birthday, that would be an irony that I would be known forever about, and I can’t have that,” you ended with a soft laugh, bringing your eyes to his face, your savior, and you find him chuckling at that, lips stretched wider in a smile and eyes, a chocolate brown, twinkling with what you hope is amusement.

And that’s when you really look at him, the brown curls which on top sat his shades. Big, brown eyes, that chocolate brown looking at you with raised brows, scruffy beard making him seem more… You didn’t know what, but you liked it. “...fair point,” he conceded, letting out an airy laugh, giving a nod. “That… I still don’t know about it being embarrassing, but the irony, that, yeah, I could see that. Erm, happy birthday, glad I was here so we could avoid all that.”

“I…” You had escaped death, but realizing who had saved you from that death was making you a bit more insane in your head. Smiling wide, giving a nod, “Yeah, that… Um… Thank you, for that, that was… Kinda saved my life — No, you did save my life, there’s no kinda about it. I… Um…” A laugh erupted from your lips, shaking your head. “... Hi.”

He smiled wider, chuckling softly, “Hi.”

Licking your lips, you clear your throat, and… You’re cringing a bit, because you recognize him. You fully do. There was no real question about it, as you looked at him, you knew. But… There will always be a part of you that had to ask, that needed confirmation. So, you had to ask. “You’re um…” Nodding your head, “Y’know, from uh…”

He exhaled, giving a nod, giving you the impression that he’s been through this before. You hoped he wouldn’t be a dick about it. “Yup, yeah, that’s me.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool…” You paused, trying to suppress a laugh. “It would be… Really lame for me to whip out, ‘Glad you didn’t run away this time’, wouldn’t it?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened, lips twitching into a laugh you could tell he wanted to let out. “Oh, yes, that… That would have been awful and truly embarrassing, I’d allow the usage of the word to describe it. Definitely.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, nodding further, “Yeah, just what I thought.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t.”

“Good thing I didn’t.”

“Oh. So good.”

“So…” you let out, looking up at him, “Do I call you Joe or Joseph?”

“Erm…” He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow in thought, looking to seriously ponder on that. “Well…” His shoulders rose in a shrug, “I dunno. Erm… Whatever you want, I guess. Not… averse to either, honestly.” He let out a soft chuckle, “Dealer’s choice.”

“My choice? Cool, love that for me. Um…” Smacking your lips lightly, giving a decisive nod. “Well… I think Joseph works well — works for me, anyway…”

Giving a nod, he hummed, “I like Joseph. My mum calls me Joseph. So — Oh. Erm, not that you’re like my mum. I mean, not like… I dunno…” His brows furrowed, as if rethinking what had spilled from his mouth. “You don’t think it’s an insult, yeah, that I said you’re not like my mum? Or… Is it like… God, you seem lovely, just… Didn’t want you to think that I…” His brows furrowed further, seeming to confuse himself. “Trying not to say you’re beneath my mum in my standards or in my head, but also not wanting to seem like I think low of my mum or that I compare people to my mum on a daily basis, because god, that’s fucking weird, isn’t it…?” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Yeah, no, I’m…. I don’t know where I was going with that…”

Your smile widened with every word that fell from his lips, chuckling deep enough that your shoulders shook and enough to feel his fingers clench around your waist. “You’re cute. And sweet to not want to devalue your mom to an absolute stranger.’

He snorted at that, “God, like your brits bumbling, then?”

“Well,” you started, lifting your brows at him, “To be fair, that is how Hugh Grant started his career.”

It was his turn to raise his brows, a mockery of hope in his expression, “Are you saying that I could be the next Hugh Grant?”

“I mean…” you started, lips stretched the widest you could remember in a long time, “With those big chocolate button eyes, you definitely…maybe have the potential to be. I’m just saying!”

Those same chocolate button eyes widened at your words, your own eyes catching sight of his dimples as his own lips stretched just as wide as yours, a laugh bursting from those lips, “How do you know about my chocolate button eyes?” Raising a challenging brow, he leaned forward just a bit. “Have you been talking to my mum? Is this a set up? She’s been asking when I’m about to settle down…”

A laugh escaped you, “Are you saying I’m the type of girl your mum would want you to settle down with? I dunno, that’s kinda forward, we just met.”

There was something in his smile, those same brown eyes looking over at you as he gave in to a snicker, shaking his head, “No. Sorry, that is… You’re right, that would be insane, we just met. Under…quite…unique circumstances.” His brow furrowed, “Are you okay? Have I asked that already? Bit rude if I didn’t…”

“Yes, you did. Or… I think your words were, ‘Shit, you okay?’ which I understand to mean as a very British way to ask that very question.” You smiled, giving a nod. “You’re good. And…so am I.” Your hands give his arms a gentle squeeze. “Actually… I’m so good that… You could probably let go of me now.” In an attempt to take away any offense, you blurt out, “Not that it hasn’t been nice, being held by you like this, but um… Yeah, I’m… I’m good. My feet’s steady, so… You don’t… Y’know…have to keep holding me steady.”

“Oh. God, right, right,” he said immediately, his hands flying up and away from you. A smirk to his lips as he held out his hands, palms facing you, a boyish giggle leaving him. “That’s… Sorry, I didn’t even know that I was still…” Pocketing his hands, he let out a huff as he watched you settle and wrap your arms around yourself. “Well, there we go. Erm… I am glad you’re okay, that was…” He shook his head, “Yeah, that could’ve ended badly. I’m glad I was around, y’know, to prevent your very untimely demise.” You both shared a small laugh at that, but then he furrowed his brow, looking around in mild concern. “Really is maddening that… Despite being surrounded by so many people and none of them, not one person, went to help or even come to ask if you’re okay…”

“Oh, I did notice that, yeah,” you responded while looking around you, a small little offended glare in place. “Welcome to America, I guess. Bunch of rude fuckers. People’s phones would be out, recording my death and no doubt, I’d be all over everyone’s for you page via TikTok and so not in the way that would be welcomed.”

A light scoff left his lips, “Is there any other way on TikTok? I mean…” His shoulders raise in a shrug, “I dunno, I’m not on it, but it doesn’t seem quite appealing, does it?”

It was said so innocently, so casually, your lips stretching into a smile and eyes flickering with amusement. You could have fun with this, his statement sounding so… Almost boomer of him, despite the young age in comparison to actual boomers. Which only brought on further amusement in your eyes. “Not a fan?” starting off casually. Trying to ascertain how bad this could be.

“Well…” he started, brows raised a bit as his hand reached for the back of his head, scratching his neck. “Not that I ventured much into it, but…” He gave a shrug, “It’s just dances, isn’t it? Like I said. Not very appealing.”

You couldn’t help it. The roll of your eyes came immediately as did the laugh from your lips. “Oh, God, it is not all dancing. There’s so much more to it, it’s all sorts of things. All sorts of content from all kinds of creators. Actors doing skits, some they wrote, some they didn’t, or even just jumping on a trend that showcases their acting skills or recreations of famous scenes from movies, shows… Their interpretation of it, even if it’s lip synching, it’s them. Musicians showcasing their music by either remixing,” You paused a moment, raising your brows, letting out a soft laugh. “…which you know a lot about remixes, I’m sure…”

He gave a deep hum, giving a nod, “Yeah, yeah, more than I care for, admittedly…”

“Right, well, there’s that and singing, performing, either putting out a song or performing it live. Editors, doing video edits of either original material or… Or even video edits of their favorite shows, movies, actors… Artists? Speed drawing videos showing their skills and how a sketch turns to an actual fucking piece of art. Because not all artists can get their work in a gallery, but they can post a video on a platform that will literally show up on people’s screens,” a soft laugh escaping, and you saw how he smiled, tilting his head and looking at you as you spoke. “And then there’s cooking — you’re a foodie, right?”

“I…” he started, his smile growing as he gave a nod. “Yeah, yeah, I… I consider myself a foodie, sure. That’s on TikTok as well?”

Lips stretched across your face as you gave an earnest nod, “Yes. The good and the bad. Cooking food, sharing recipes, rating dishes or restaurants—shops, like… It’s such a tool for small businesses and in this fucked up economy, it’s so needed. And...” You hesitated a moment, before giving in to a reluctant nod, “It’s helped writers as well. Promoting their books, sharing their writing, connecting with readers and… You know, that stuff. And aside from content creators, the art of it, there’s simply fans of all of it, discussing all of it, connecting with others discussing it. I don’t know if you’ve considered that part but…” You let out a sigh, “Whether you grew up having to hide just things you like or never really recovering from the isolation we all felt during the start of the pandemic…” Shaking your head, “Connecting with others over things you love, or just even things or people you like… Without judgement, it’s so important. Also serving to just… Y’know, give yourself a voice. Not just about entertainment but… Just life and how it can knock you down. Pick you up. The fucked-up parts that traditional media is just never going to give you a chance to scream at the world, people on the app do. They’re given that chance, and they take it, and it’s great. And if you’re feeling down, there’s people that use the platform to pick you right up.”

Tilting his head, a bit, the corner of his lip let out a smirk, “So… Definitely not just dancing then?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “No, no, Mr. Quinn, not just dancing. And the fact that people are so quick to just boil it down to just dancing is… Not only ridiculous but fucking reductive. Yeah, it has some big downsides to it. Like any other form of social media, there’s toxicity and negative impacts and even people manipulating other people. A narrative that doesn’t align with the truth, but then —”

“That…is most social media.” His nose scrunched a bit, “Well… In the name of all transparency… Not just social media, but… Traditional media as well. Interviews and misquotes running amuck… I guess it’s not any better or worse.” His lips nudge to the side as his shoulders give in to a shrug. “I suppose I shouldn’t have downplayed it, especially since I didn’t know much about it… Until now, of course.” He looked at you with a smile, “You’re uh… You’re quite passionate, aren’t you?”

Once again, you laughed, softly as the flash of your teeth showed in your smile. “Bit too much, huh? I, uh… I get like that, sometimes. A lot of people kinda reduce that to my assumed Latina temper flaring up. Or my spice. Y’know, quick to think it’s anger or me blowing a fuse and basically boiling it down to some… Perceived… I don’t know…” You were trying to find a neutral way to say it, to not sound like you were going to go on another tangent. But you were struggling.

But he seemed to understand, with the way his brown eyes took you in, taking a deep breath and let out a gentle smile. “I didn’t see a… I guess those people would say…” His lips in a light grimace, nose scrunching again, and brows furrowed. “…an angry woman…”

“…an angry Latina woman… That part’s important…”

“Right. So important… But… No, no. Not hot blooded or…flying off the handle…”

“Ready to grab a chancla and aim for the head…”

Lips twisting to a wide grin as a snicker left his lips, shaking his head, “No, no, none of that… Nothing as… I can only assume reductive or downright patronizing as all that.” Slipping his hands into his pockets of his jeans, he shrugged, “I just… I saw someone passionate about what she was talking about because… Well… I was belittling a whole platform. Very dismissive. Bit of a dick, actually, now that I think ‘bout it?” You both shared a laugh at that, “Erm… Which…” Lifting his hand over his heart, “I am sorry about… But even as you spoke, you… You were passionate because you cared. And… That’s such a good thing, y’know? You don’t…get a lot of that. A lot of caring and not like a bleeding heart kinda caring, it’s um…” Sucking in his breath, he shook his head, “I dunno. But just… Caring. I… I liked watching that, the whole thing.”

“You…” your brow arched, “You did? I… Thank you… So, not too much?”

Shaking his head, “No! Fuck, no. Nothing like that, absolutely no worries there. Almost makes me want to give it a chance — almost.” Reaching toward his back pocket, taking out a lighter and pack of cigarettes, “Oh, and fuck anyone that sees something like that and make you seem… Like a stereotype like that. I can’t… I can’t even imagine how fucking frustrating that is.” He chuckled, “Most of you, American lot, just think I’m adorable, or precious so…”

“Oh,” you started with a light chuckle. “Right, all baby girl and shit.”

His big brown eyes widened as his brows lifted, and an almost sorrowful look on his face. “Oh, God… No, they’re not… Not baby girl…” Letting out a sigh, looking at you in such dismay. “Surely not. No — Keery, maybe, but I—”

“Mm, afraid so. I think it’s the big brown doe eyes that gets the baby girl treatment.”

He huffed dramatically, puffing his cheeks as he did so, shaking his head. “Doe eyes? What, like Bambi eyes? Well, that’s… These damn chocolate button eyes… That’s disappointing. Well, no, it’s… It’s sweet I guess but…”

He furrowed his brow. “Baby girl? Really? I know the accent and the constant apologizing gets erm… Well, the whole, ‘oh, isn’t he precious?’ treatment, I get that, but…” He let out a sigh, leaning toward you. “I’m manly. Like clearly, I’m manly as hell.”

He watched as you handled that for about a split second before the snicker came rolling out of you.

His eyes widened as your eyes closed as you smiled wide, an actual laugh coming out. “Oi! No!” he let out, though you could hear the faintest trace of a chuckle in his tone. “Don’t laugh! You can’t be laughing at that, now. I am manly. I saved you, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry!” you let out, still fighting back some laughs. “I’m not questioning your manliness, I swear, but… It is a little precious you’re so offended at the baby girl thing.”

He huffed out a laugh, teeth biting at the corner of his lower lip. “Well, not so much offended but… I dunno. Not exactly cool, is it? Not very impressive to be known as… Baby girl or… Being thought of… I’m a grown man.”

“No, no, I get that…” you relent, laughter subsiding, your eyes trailing over him. Part of you not quite believing it’s him, but the fact that Joseph Quinn was looking at you and not only that, was engaging in conversation, was ridiculous. But not unwelcomed. “Well, if it means anything, you are…deceptively buff, which is sort of making me question things.”

His grin was dangerous as he looked at you, eyes trailing towards his arms, the bicep mostly. You couldn’t help but notice the almost overly pleased look on his face as he went, “Yeah? Impressed, yeah? By the pythons?”

“Oh, god, okay…” You’re pleased that he snickers at his own words, “No one said anything about pythons. Let’s tone it down a little, but yes. I dunno, I guess with Eddie, I just thought you were…”

“Skinnier?” he supplied, allowing you to nod. “Fair. I mean, I was. Went on…a not fun diet to lose that weight and…” He gave a shrug, a chuckle escaping him. “Two years of my fucking life and I loved doing it, but erm…” He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, like being able to eat what I want nowadays,” letting out a soft groan, “Which… I’m really taking advantage these days. Especially here, at this place, the food—”

“Shit!” you let out, surprising you both. “Fuck. I was coming over here to order more food for my table.” Surprised that Jen and Gerry didn’t come looking for you, though you supposed your plate of fries were demolished by now. “Completely forgot. That’s…”

“Oh, you’re with someone?” he asked, and if your mind wasn’t hazy, you would have detected the slightly disappointed tone in his voice. His eyes flickering over you, cautious. “Like….?”

“My friends— Best friends, in fact. Who are…probably pissed I’m taking so long.” He seemed to relax at that, almost looking relieved, an observation you didn’t put much thought to, turning toward the counter, making eye contact with the bartender. “Hey! Plate of loaded fries, beef sliders and two cokes and one sparkling water with lime, please?” The bartender giving you a nod, making you heave a sigh of relief. “Can’t believe I flaked about that; it was literally the only reason I came over here.”

“Well, to be fair, you did almost die,” he let out, smiling a bit and lighting up his cigarette, finally, it seemed. Taking a deep inhale, smoke flew past his lips, away from you. “I’m sure they’ll understand and at least you didn’t forget completely.” Pausing a moment, he lifted his pack of cigarettes, “Sorry, do you…?”

“No, no, I don’t,” you watched as he froze, holding his cigarette in front of his lips and the familiar look of guilt on his face. “Oh, but you can, I’m not… I’m not bothered by it if you do. Seriously, I’m not gonna go into the dangers of smoking.” With a soft smile, you added, “You’re a grown man, after all. A manly man.”

He snorted, “Fuck off.”

“Aw! So precious.”

Joseph’s grin stretched further, his brown eyes looking at you with a spark of amusement though he tried his best to look stern. Taking a drag of the cigarette, blowing away from you. “You’re funny.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Well, because you are.” His shoulders giving you a little shrug, “It’s good. I…” A soft laugh exhaled from him, “I’ve genuinely been enjoying myself, so… Thank you for that.”

It genuinely made you smile, hearing that, digging into your wallet for your card, smiling still as you tapped it on the POS device laid in front of you. Using your finger for your digital signature, you paused after, turning your eyes back at him. “… Actually… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, yeah,” he said, taking another drag, brown eyes all on you.

They really were like big doe eyes.

A smile on your face, you cleared your throat, licking your lips. “It’s just, um… Well, when I fell, it… It was kinda sudden, obviously, generally how falls go.”

He’s smiling, now, which, fuck him for doing that.

“And… It was pretty lucky that you caught me…”

Oh, there was something that flashed in his eyes, then. Which was interesting, in your mind. Not something you could decipher right away, though. Concern? No…

“I’m just… In a room full of people that straight did not even flinch at a woman tripping over… You reacted really quickly.” He was holding his breath, the only way you could really tell was the smoke lingering from within, before he exhaled, once more, away from you. “Were you like, heading toward the opposite direction and just — bam! There I went, or…?”

You watched as Joe took a deep breath, tongue poking out and licking his lips. “Erm…” he started, almost sheepishly. There was something in the way he wouldn’t look at your eyes, almost guiltily. “…something…like that…”

Raising your brows, those little words brought forth this curiosity clawing from within you. “…something like that?”

“Yup,” he gave you, popping that p for emphasis, giving a nod. “Definitely…” His eyes wandered, flickering toward you, just for a fraction of a second. “…something like that.”

The thing was… When his eyes flickered over to you just then… It wasn’t at your eyes, or your face… But… Somewhere a bit…lower than that… It was so quick, though, but the way he stood there in front of you, so different than moments earlier where it was calm and easy. Just casual and nice and now, fingers tapping at his hip and when his eyes did meet yours. His big chocolate button eyes seemed bigger.

Almost pleading. That’s when you knew.

Lips quirked into a smile, eyes lighting up. A surge of giddiness bubbled within the pit of your stomach and was quickly spreading throughout your body. Oh, this was good. This was too good. The summer’s favorite white boy, the one, quite ironically, dominating everyone’s TikTok’s for you pages, the one everyone was swooning over… He…

“…oh my god.”

“I… No, that’s… I was…”

“…you were looking at my boobs.”

He scoffed, taking a step back and eyes wide. As if he was offended at the accusation. Which was fair, anyone that was called outright like you were doing would go for the offended defense. “I…” he started, his hand gripping at the edge of the bar’s counter, his other hand raised, forefinger pointed toward you. “I…” he repeated, his words halted as he brought his cigarette for one more drag before it went toward the ashtray, extinguished. “That… What I was doing was…”

“Oh, tell me,” you let out, arms crossed in front of you, over your stomach, purposefully giving your cleavage a bit more of a boost. “Tell me what you were doing?”

“I, well,” he said with a little nod. His eyes trained on your own, willing himself not to look down. “I’ll tell you, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Okay. Cool. Let’s hear it. Love to hear it.”

“Well, we’re gonna. Yeah.” You chuckled, and he wanted to, but only cleared his throat, “Shut up, you see…” A momentary grin on his lips. Slowly, he pointed toward himself, “I… Right? Yeah. I was having a drink, right? Yeah, I was. And then, I was trying to meet up with a mate, so… I was going to go outside and… Y’know, text or call him.”

“Right,” you let out, giving a nod. “It’s so noisy here, so yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah! Right,” he said, brows raised. “Far too noisy, at least for a call. So, outside,” leaning toward the counter, his palm flat on the top of it. “So, getting off the stool, going about strolling toward the exit, yeah? And…” he snapped his fingers, “And then you come strolling toward the bar, and… Well…”

“…you saw my boobs.”

His lips stretched, teeth biting at the corner of his lip, refusing to look at you before letting out a, “…. stop saying that!” quite exasperatedly.

Which only made you laugh, and not kindly. Almost a cackle which only broke the dam as it were with Joseph, because his laugh came tumbling down.

“Am I wrong?” you let out in between the giggling — yes, you were giggling with this man. “I mean, it’s okay! It’s okay if you were! No judgement.”

He let out a groan, facing toward the counter and laid his head in his arms on top of it. Quite dramatically. Comically, which only made you chuckle more.

“Honestly, I’m not even offended by it.”

“God, you should be.” His voice slightly muffled, his hands resting at the back of his head, interlocking together. “…it’s not… It’s not like I make a habit of it—”

“I was just a special case? Aw!” You heard him groan, delving further into his arms and hands grasping each other tighter. “No, really, I’m honored that in place as crowded as this, my tits are the ones that stand out — well, not cold enough to stand out — but,” you let out a soft laugh at yourself and even amongst the music and the chatter, you swore you heard him chuckle, too.

“..it’s actually…kinda flattering.” Looking down at your chest, taking a deep breath to see your cleavage heave, chuckling a bit. “Makes me feel very Blanche Deveraux,” you add, putting on a very questionable Southern accent as close to the golden girl herself,” …like my breasts have the power to make music!” Your regular voice coming back as you finished, “It’s thrilling.”

He soon lifted his head from the counter, looking over at you with a furrowed brow. “…I feel like I’m supposed to know that reference, but I don’t…” Your brows shot up at that and it was well noted by him as he added, “….ah. And I should know that, I’m assuming. It’s upsetting you that I don’t.”

It was. Well, kind of. More shocked than anything, and it showed. “Do you…? Are you saying that you… You’ve never seen Golden Girls?”

“…oh,” he uttered softly, his back straightening. “I mean, I’ve heard of it. Kind of? Erm, like uh… Well, mostly heard of Betty White, like obviously. But not quite… Never really… Sat down and watched it—oh,” he reacted to how wide your eyes got at that, and the way your lips parted. “Oh, we’re very cross about that, are we?”

“I — yes! Very! You’ve — oh, that’s bad. You should fix that as soon as possible, Mr. Quinn. Because yeah, it’s gonna bug me until you do. Not that I’d know, but still…”

A snort left him, grinning from ear to ear, no doubt with how ridiculous you sounded. But it was worth it, at least you got to see those big doe eyes again. “I can tell it bothers you, so…” He shook his head with a chuckle, “I’ll erm… I’ll try and put it on the books, yeah? Just for you, though.”

“I mean… It’ll be more for your benefit than mine. No, seriously, we’ll probably never meet again but you will thank me, I’m sure of it.”

Taking a deep breath, he let out a soft hum, “Mmhm, I’m sure of it. I trust you. So… I’m guessing one of them has a…. Southern accent? That… That was what you were attempting, right?”

Dramatically placing a hand over your heart, you busted the accent out once again. “I do declare, Mister Quinn, are you doubtin’ my impeccable imitation of the great and late Blanche Elizabeth Deveraux, initials spelling B.E.D? Oh, fiddly-dee.” You saw his smile growing wider at every word that left your lips until it broke out in a laugh. “Hey!” you let out, laughing as well, “We’re not all Master of Accents like you clearly are, buddy. Some of us are scrambling without that fancy schooling.”

“Oh, no,” he bemoaned through a laugh, “…you saw that, did you?”

“Oh, yeah,” you let out gleefully. “That was… A tour de force. I… It was the Liverpool one that did it for me…”

“Hey. Oi. Like I said on there, mm? My mum is from Liverpool and….” His lips twitching into a smile, nodding his head, “…sounds just like that.”

“Yeah… You really shouldn’t be disrespecting your mum like that. Just… Just doing her wrong.” You laughed a little, licking her lips, “No, no, it was…” nodding slightly, “No, it was really good. You were very…charming, actually. Especially for your first talk show appearance. I mean, it was Fallon, but you made it work. I’m pretty sure you got more fans out of it. You did…. You did really good.”

The way he smiled struck you, and there was a softness in his eyes you weren’t expecting, either. You’d expected him to be showered on dozens of praise and accolades for his role of Eddie Munson, which would be richly deserved. But there he was, standing there as if your words were the first he ever heard. “That… Thank you,” he let out with an impish sort of smile. “That means a lot, actually.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he let out a sigh of relief. “So, not embarrassing, then? The accent bit was really rough.”

“Oh, yeah, you um…” you chuckled, “You had the uh… Red face thing going on through it.”

His face fell at that, “Oh, don’t tell me that. You’re joking, yeah? Like… Not…” Your lips stretched out in a smile which only made him let out a soft laugh. “I wasn’t that obvious, was I? Really?”

A snort left you, shrugging your shoulders, “I mean… It wasn’t like… Okay, maybe your ears got a little red, too,” you paused as a bark of a laugh escaped him, the sight of him covering his mouth with his hand almost sent you into a fit of giggles yourself. “Which was kinda a dead giveaway.”

“What? N—” shaking his head bewildered, a whiplash of emotions crossing his features, yet the smile was still there, still wide. “I… What? What do you mean dead giveaway?! I don’t have—my ears?!”

“Oh, god, you’re cute. Do you not know?”

“Yeah. Right. Fucking adorable, and no?! No, I don’t… What… Do I….” he furrowed his brows, a hand reaching toward his ears, feeling them a bit. “…people noticed my ears get red?”

“Howards End,” you let out as if it was easily explained, and by the look on his face, it was. “The kissing scene.”

Oh, he looked like a boy on Christmas. A laugh erupted from his lips and eyes wide, “Howards End?!” he let out, his voice pitched, and then making a quick recovery with a clearing of his throat. Crossing his arms, though his eyes remained wide as he gave a nod, “Howards End. You saw Howards End? I was in that.” You snorted, and he closed his eyes, brows furrowed. “Right, yeah, you know that already,” he chuckled, opening his eyes once more to look at that. “So… So… You watched Howards End.”

“Are you like… Are you surprised? Yeah. Yeah, I saw Howards End but I’m not gonna discuss it because I’ll just get angry.”

“Oh, really?”

“God, yes,” you respond, taking a deep breath, “Eat the fucking rich, that’s… That’s what I got out of it. Was that not the main theme? Oh, and justice for Leonard Bast.”

He giggled at that, actually giggled which, God… You wish you didn’t find it downright adorable. Shaking his head, running his hand through his hair and grabbing his shades in the process, “Sorry, sorry, that’s just… That’s mad I’m only really used to my past work, y’know, mentioned through like… Bullshit networking and the like, not genuinely — So, red ears, got it.”

Your brows furrowed, “Wait… No, don’t buy it.” He looked at you confused, prompting you to explain. “Come on, I mean, it’s not like it’s totally obscure and like… You have a few things under your belt, I mean… People had to have mentioned your other stuff. I know everyone’s all… It’s all about Eddie Munson right now, I mean, the photo of you as Eddie with the horns and tongue is plastered all over the con, but… I mean… People have seen your other stuff. I know they have; I’ve seen people talk about your other stuff so, no, I don’t buy it.”

He tilted his head, raising his shoulders in a shrug, “I mean, yeah, but… I dunno, it’s just… Just sort of feels like they’re just being nice about it. But much of the time… Yeah, yeah, they’re…” He smiled, shaking his head, “It’s…. all about Eddie. Which is great!” he ended, holding his hand up. “I mean, it’s mad, but… I get it, he…” A bewildered laugh escaped him. “It’s…kinda special, hearing about… The other roles. I dunno, still getting used to it?” He shrugged, “I dunno. But erm, thank you, erm… Not sure for what, for… I guess…” He snorted, “Watching Howards End, I suppose. And angry on Leonard Bast’s behalf. Um…” With an amused expression, he raised his brows, “Not a nice ending for him.”

“If I think about it hard enough, I go in a rage, so, no,” the both of you chuckling at that. “Not nice, no.” Licking your lips, you can’t help but ask, “So… How’s it going, then? The whole… Madness of all the attention suddenly on you? How are they treating you?”

“Oh,” he let out, a sense of surprise in his tone, brows raising a bit. “Erm… Yeah, no, yeah, it’s been great.” Nodding a bit, letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah, no, it’s been good, bit new to it but, yeah, no. It’s been lovely, actually. So… Yeah, great.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup,” he said, popping the p. “Really, really great. Really. Good fun and… Yeah,” nodding with a smirk. “Been awesome.”

You smile at that, crossing your arms in front of you. “Oh, it’s been awesome.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh huh… Tell me that one more time and I’ll believe you.”

He snorted at that, hands going into his pockets. “I… It has been…” The longer he looked at you, at your face, you could see his face cracking. A broad grin stretched along his face as his eyes lifted toward the ceiling and he let out a groan. “Oh, god, why do I wanna be honest with you, that can’t be good…”

You chuckled a bit, “I got one of those faces, I guess… No, really, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, but if you do… I promise, it stays between us. I mean, look at me, I have an honest face, it goes both ways.”

Taking a deep breath, he scratched the side of his neck. “Okay… Okay, well… Erm… It’s… Different?” His lips stretched tightly. “It’s mad, y’know, like I said. But… I’m enjoying it. Y’know, enjoy meeting so many people and… having that much of an impact, it’s… It’s um…”

“…a lot.”

“Oh, god, it’s so much more than I thought when I signed on,” he let out in a relieved tone. “Yeah, it’s exciting. Being in the business for as long as I have and never experiencing anything like this, I…” He let out a breath. “It’s fuckin’ amazing and… It’s not anything I’ve experienced before. I… Usually I just do a job and then I go home and maybe it shows up on the telly or on a screen, maybe, but…” He shook his head, looking at you. “Nothing like this — my face is plastered everywhere and… Yes, it’s exciting and I am loving it, don’t get me wrong — God, it feels weird saying this I don’t even…” He licked his lips, “It’s… It’s an adjustment, I guess. But I’m learning, so, that’s… That’s good, isn’t it?”

You nodded, offering a shrug, “Best you can do, really.” You watched as he gave a nod. “And I get it… I mean… It must be such a mind fuck. They talk about break out roles but, you don’t really have any clue how real that is until… I guess… It happens. And it definitely happened with you and… It’s a lot. It must be. I, personally, didn’t even know you existed a few months ago,” you ended with a laugh.

He snorted at that, “Oh, cheers! That’s… That’s lovely.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not just me, so… Saying that, like…” You paused, taking a deep breath. “Do I say this on the risk of inflating your ego…”

“Yes,” came the immediate response. “Please, I’m very needy with praise and I… Kinda… Said way too much already, so… I would appreciate it beyond words. Praise me.”

Grinning a bit, you shook your head, “For someone that hasn’t watched Golden Girls, you are giving Blanche vibes right now…”

“I… Sure, why not?”

Chuckling a bit, you leaned against the counter, looking over at him. “…if anyone deserved a breakout role, it’s you.”

His brows shot up at that, which made you smile.

“I’ve seen your other stuff, two of which before I even watched Stranger Things, by the way.”

Oh, his brows shot wide up at that, and you rolled your eyes as he propped his arm on the counter, resting his chin within the palm of his hand.

“In fact… Oh, God… Okay… I might have started watching Stranger Things because… I… I was impressed with your acting in…two of your works…”

“You did not.” His voice disbelieving to say the least, making you laugh, though he carried on. “That’s — No, no, no, that ridiculous you did not… C’mon, you’re taking the piss now.”

“I’m not! I’m serious. I didn’t even go looking for it, I was just binging and bam, there you were, the stranger things guy with the hair! I swear,” placing your hand over your heart. “Cross my heart and all that. It was like… Kismet or some shit.”

A hearty laugh came out of him, eyes practically wide as saucers. “Oh my god, that’s… That’s so funny… What… What two shows…?”

“Catherine the Great,” you listed off, lips scrunched to the side, “Mm, Prince Paul was…. I mean… At the time was… It was okay,” he snorted at that, nodding a bit. “But, y’know, I’ve kinda warmed up to Paul since then, but it was good and I was like, okay, not bad.”

“That seems to be the general impression I give off, yeah.”

“Shut up,” you fired back with a laugh. “But then… I kept going through my binge and I came across a series named Strike. Or, C.B. Strike here in the states, which is weird, I know, but… It seemed interesting so I got into it.” You smiled, “And then the second season came and… Wouldn’t you know? It’s that guy again.”

“Loving it.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t know if it’s because I saw you in Catherine the Great first or whatever, but, as soon as you popped on the screen…?” A breathless laugh escaped you, remembering the moment as you shook your head. “It was… Different. And… Honestly, your whole performance was just…” Looking up at him with a smile, “You were amazing. Like… I was really watching… Acting, you know? I mean, obviously, yes, I was, but… Really… Seeing it in action, like… I don’t know. Not like I’m an expert but, it was just really… Captivating and… I couldn’t look away. I was… I was in complete awe of you.”

His grand smiles were gone, the broad grins as well, but there was something a bit softer that replaced it. A look of genuine awe in his eyes as he looked at you. You expected some quip of self-deprecation, but he was staring at you in silence for a moment, and suddenly his smile grew. Threatening to claim his entire face as he let out a huff of a laugh. “Sorry, that was… Erm… Fuck. I don’t even get that kinda feedback from my mum,” he tried to cover with a laugh, though his gaze at you seems a bit dazed. Fingers scratching at the scruff of his cheek. “I… Yeah, I put a lot of work on Billy, that… It wasn’t a lead role or all that meaty a role, but… Seems to have put on an impression on some and…” He nodded a bit, smile still in place. “It’s very sweet and… I’m glad it did. Thank you, really.”

It touched you that your words seemed to touch him, making you smile. “Well, no, it wasn’t the lead role or anything but… It was meaningful. And if it was any other actor, it wouldn’t be. You got talent, something I’m sure has been said over and over to you, but—”

“I’m very needy so even if it was, I wouldn’t get tired of hearing it.”

“Yeah, well, you are an actor, so that tracks,” you joked, making him laugh a bit, leaning back on his seat. “But yeah, I was so impressed that I binged the whole show, just to see you in action in the role so many fell in love with. And I… I thought it wouldn’t be so bad. Since, you know, I already knew he’d die at the end, so I was like, not gonna love him. Won’t hurt as much, right? Yeah… Did not make it past the cafeteria scene, so…”

“Oh, you like them obnoxious, then.”

“Hey, you call him obnoxious, I call him dramatic and yes, I fucking love dramatic men, but, only if they make me laugh.”

He seemed to take keen interest in that. “So, you like your men more dramatic or funny?”

Letting out a hum, you considered that. There was a key difference there, you knew. “I guess out of the two… I’d have to go with funny. I’d rather laugh than be frustrated because some guy couldn’t act right or be chill about things. Anything is pretty much forgivable if the person makes me laugh. Means we’re having a good time.”

He nodded a that, though you shook your head, “Anyway, my original point — You’re very talented, and that’s coming from someone that didn’t even knew your name not even three months ago and… Your acting, it should be recognized, you put in a lot of work with your portrayals, and it shows and… I’m glad you’re having your breakout moment. I really am… And you should enjoy it. All of it.”

He smiled at that, another one of those gentle smiles that made his eyes shine, you swore it did. “That’s… Thank you. I really do appreciate that. More than you know, really. And I am! I’m enjoying it. Still a bit mad, but… I’m enjoying it, I promise.”

“Good… I’m glad of that.” Taking a deep breath, you looked around. “How many cons have you done so far?”

“Oh… Erm… God, I think… This is my third one? Still a bit green…”

“Well, I’m a bit more seasoned than you, so,” you huff out a soft chuckle. “Make sure you’re hydrated, like seriously, even if the water’s warm, just take it if it’s offered by the staff. Same with food, though if you can hit someplace outside of what the staff provide… Do it. I mean, what they give you is good enough but… If you want to enjoy your time, it helps. Also? Snacks. Snacks are so important; you have no idea. If you can’t get a full meal and your breaks aren’t cutting it? Get you some snacks. Obviously not ones that need refrigeration and shit, but like, a little trail mix, if you wanna be healthy. Uh... Some chips or…crisps, whatever. I’m a sucker for chocolate myself. Or cookies. Sweets, it’s not…. healthy but, god, makes the day worth it. Also? Do not skimp on your breaks. I know the temptation to skip them comes but like… You, Mr. Popular, have a lot of folks coming just for you. I walked through the convention earlier and there’s a sea of Hellfire shirts all around,” you chuckled. “You need your breaks.”

“You’re adorable,” he let out, and it wasn’t clear if he meant to say it or not, but he was smiling throughout your little guide to surviving a con. “You’re actually giving me advice, that’s… Very helpful, yeah, but… Also… You’re adorable.”

Your brows lifted, “Adorable?” Scoffing lightly. “Adorable. Really?” Holding your hand up, you added, “Hey, this is sound advice, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, it sounds it! I’m not disputing that, no, no, it’s really good advice and all that, it’s just,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Sorry, just erm…” He shrugged, “I dunno! It’s… It’s sweet… Y’know, telling me all that. Which I’ll take to heart, absolutely. It is sound advice.” He winked, actually winked at you with a smile, “Thanks for looking out for me.”

He dared to call your advice adorable, but the wink he gave? That was adorable, making your lips twitch with a wider smile than you intend to let out. “Yeah, well…” Lips pursed together as you made a side glance toward nothing at all, just away from him. “You did save me, so… The least I can do to help make this con better for you.” Taking a breath, “Even though you only really saved me because you were being a big ol’ perv.”

“Oi,” he interjected with his big brown eyes wide, though any offense to your words were quickly dispelled with a laugh that breathed past his lips. “No, that… That is only because… You…. You got tits that make music or…whatever the fuck you said in that… Questionable accent.”

You felt bold at that, emitting a gasp and actually laid a hand on him. Not because you were falling, and he was there. Because you wanted to, it felt the most natural thing in the world to take your hand and smack his arm just like that.

And he, it seemed, felt natural enough for him to put on a wince, pull the struck shoulder back, his face a complete mockery of a pained expression as he let out an exaggerated, “Ow.”

“Shut up, that did not hurt.”

“Ahhh,” he exaggerated, rubbing where you had struck him. “Tell that to my arm, that’s going to be a bruise — Netflix is going to have a word with you about that.”

“Okay, well, it was in defense of my superior Blanche impression and big words from the man that attempted a Scottish accent, the supreme of accents by the way and ended up lisping it—” you ended with a laugh only to join his when a figure was seen out of the corner of your eye.

Turning it, you saw a young woman standing there, staring at the both of you. “Oh, hey, sorry am I blocking you from the bar or…?”

“Oh… Uh… No, I just… Um…” She was gripping something in her hand, looking from you to Joseph who had straightened up and offered a smile. “Oh. Oh, wow. I… Hi.”

“Hi, how are you?” he pushed out with a gentle smile, and a voice even gentler. Different than what you were hearing in your conversation. His eyes were on her, looking directly at her, into her eyes as if she was the only one in the room. “Enjoying yourself, darling?”

It amused you.

This was him in work mode, you realized, as you leaned back and looked on. The girl seemed taken by him, of course. How could anyone not? He was good, especially for someone so green in these sorts of affairs.

“I… Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m having a great time. Are… Are you…? Having a great time….?”

He smiled brightly, and you swore you saw his eyes light up. “I’m doing absolutely lovely, my dear.” The woman between the two of you looked absolutely starstruck, gripping on the hardcover book she had in her hands — … wait.

You knew that book.

Your eyes peering at the cover, eyes widened as if viewing an old friend… Because, as it turned out, you were. “That’s my first book.”

It was as if you broke his spell and her bright eyes looked away from him and straight toward you, a brighter smile on her face. “Oh! Yeah! Sorry, I…” Turning her attention to Joe, her smile turned sheepish. Embarrassed, even. “I just um… I wasn’t expecting you, when… When I was coming over I just…” She gave a shrug, “I only saw her —” And with a turn towards you, she clarified, “You. Um… This is going to sound really… Like… Stalker-y? It’s not! I swear it’s not —”

“To be fair that’s what most stalkers would say but go on…” you replied cautiously.

She let out a laugh, “God, I know. Sorry, it’s just… The prices for the con went up and like… It was just too much for me to buy tickets? But um… I knew this was the closest bar and it’s not like I came specifically in case you happened to come in, I’m out with my friends, we were gonna be in the area and its good food but on the off chance you did…” She held out the book towards you, “…could I…. I mean, could you… sign it?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joseph raise his brows in surprise and confusion — but a bit of amusement there, too. Not like he was upset to be slightly upstaged now, but a bit surprised. You could practically see his big brown eyes taking in your name on the cover, only causing his eyes to grow wider if even possible. This didn’t really happen a lot to you, not before your TikTok took off and there was a face to the name. Your smile stretched wide, and you took hold of a copy of your first of your series, nostalgia hitting you and remembering how excited you were to hold the very first copy as given to you by your publisher all those years ago.

That was a different you, then. Excited. Mind brimming with ideas and plots and characters to take the reader for a whirlwind adventure of romance and unabashed sex. Your smile turned wistful as you looked at your main heroine, or the silhouette of her, she was still abstract, except for in your words. You remembered it was important, for readers to have an idea of what she looked like, tickled by the thought of a version of your heroine would be born in every readers’ head. Never quite the same, always a bit unique and different, a bit of themselves in her while reading of her story, of her life. That was important to you.

Your eyes lifted from the book, your book, and to the woman that placed it in your hands. Taking a deep breath, lifting your brows, you went, “So… You couldn’t afford to meet me in the convention at my table, so you decided to come here on the off chance I was here and get your book signed for free?”

Oh, the look on her face. You couldn’t keep it up even if you tried.

“I respect it, that’s really smart, actually… Good on you, I’d do the exact same thing,” you smiled as you saw the relief flooding her face. “Yeah, of course, god, it’s been forever since I’ve even seen this edition…” You smiled, observing the book, “Oh, nice, this is well worn down, the spine’s definitely taken a beating.”

She laughed, giving a nod, “Yeah, it’s… It’s honestly my favorite. I love the rest of the series but… The first one’s just… It’s special to me. It’s just the start of everything and like… I loved the emotions when I read it for the first time and it’s nice to remember that sometimes… Does that sound weird?”

“God, no, absolutely not. That’s…really fucking flattering, actually… Uh, I don’t have a pen or Sharpie with me, do you…?”

A silver Sharpie was produced in front of you with her eager hand, chuckling as you took it, “Thanks,” opening the book and to the first blank page.

“What’s your name?” Hearing it, you gave a nod, scribbling in your neatest handwriting the name and a little personalized message with your signature. Smiling broadly, you handed the book and marker with her, “There you go, thanks for reading, it honestly… It means a lot; you guys don’t even know.”

“Oh my God… Please, thank you for…” She shook her head, “Thank you,” taking a moment to read what you wrote, and the smile on her face was well worth it as she closed it gently and held it against her chest. “I am sorry I couldn’t make it into the actual convention, though…”

“No, it’s expensive, I totally get it. If I wasn’t invited, I probably wouldn't bother. It’s cool you thought of this, though. Even if it…” You gave a light shrug, “…It… It is a bit stalker-y but just a little bit,” raising your hand and showing just how little with your thumb and forefinger. “Just a bit.” You both chuckled, “But no, it’s totally lovely to meet you. I’m glad you got the book signed despite the struggle over the wallet being very real. Have a great night, okay?”

“Thanks,” she smiled, turning around but stopping, making a sharp turn, “Oh, and happy birthday! I saw your latest TikTok, kinda cool to celebrate the weekend at the con, right?”

“TikTok,” you heard Joseph let out as he sat back, arms crossed looking between the two of you. “…you have a TikTok.”

Your lips stretched wide as you fought the urge to not roll your eyes. “I do have a TikTok. A very handy one that reaches a lot of people that would maybe help in getting my work out there and voice heard.”

“Ah, well, I did hear it’s very good for that sort of thing.”

“Oh, it’s great,” she said, not quite getting what you and Joe were talking about. “I loved the readings you do from the past books and the stuff with Jen and sometimes Gerry and… Yeah, it’s great. Um… Though… Are you thinking about the next book?” She winced at herself, “Sorry, is that like… You’ve probably been asked that before.”

Oh, she had no idea....

“…it’s a popular one, yeah… There are thoughts and ideas, for sure. Work in progress, you know how those things are. But I don’t have a definite date yet. So…” Oh, God. You put on a smile, and a nod, “We’ll see.”

“Awesome,” she let out, and then, nervously, looking at Joseph. “…would I be pushing my luck if I asked for a pic?” Her smile turning nervous, “I… I really loved Eddie, um. I cried when he died… You were so good; I really hope you come back next season.”

It was amazing to see the switch come on, a smile that was broad but still polite, almost guarded came over his face, a gentle gaze thrown at her. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you to say. It’s lovely how much you all seem to welcome Eddie and I’m so thankful for that. I…” he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head, “I honestly don’t know about next season, erm… I haven’t heard anything yet but…” He gave a shrug, taking a quick glance at you, a smile twitching at his lips as he turned to her and said, “We’ll see. And no, you’re not pushing your luck at all, I’d love to take a selfie with you.”

From the look of her face, it almost seemed like Christmas, watching as they posed together, Joseph holding up the camera and waiting for the perfect shot before he took it. Handing her phone over back to her, she suddenly looked at you with that same nervous look to her. Making you chuckle and giving a nod, taking her phone and taking a picture with her as well.

Soon, she turned and left the both of you alone together once again.

As alone as two people in a crowded bar could be, anyway.

But as he looked at you, a cocky smile spread over his face, raising his brows, chuckling low. “So,” he started, a toothy grin across his face. “You’re a writer.”

The smile on your face was wide, brimming with your amusement as you gave a nod. “… Yes, I am a writer.”

Crossing his arms in front of him, he let out a soft laugh. “I… I had no idea.”

You gave a shrug, “I mean… How could you? Not like I’m out here with a big old fashioned, 1920’s typewriter strapped to my back or anything.”

He snorted at that, teeth flashing in his smile, giving in to a nod. “No, you’re definitely not… I suppose… The advice you gave me about being at these conventions… Not as an attendee, then.”

A laugh escaped you, a gentle shake of your head given as you look at him. “…no, definitely not. Just part of the Con hustle like you — well, not just like you. I mean, you actors get a lot more action than we pitiful authors ever will…”

Oh, his brows shot up so fast at that, eyes wide — almost as wide as his mouth as they spread into the broadest smile you had ever seen on a person. A spluttering laugh escaping him, “Oh? Us actors? Really? You’re going with that?”

“Oh, you’re gonna deny it? We can go back to that convention center, if you want, and see how many pictures of you are plastered all over and see if it’s in the double digits.”

“Oh,” his brows furrowed, looking quite discontent at the mere suggestion of that. “Oh, fine, you win, just… Please, please, let’s not, yeah?” A small, breathy laugh slipped from him. “I’m pretty sure that picture will then just burn into your brain and that’s all you’d think at the mention of me and — no, no, no, no, don’t want that.”

Lips twitching into a smile you were trying to hold back, giving an understanding nod. “Mm, yeah… Really regretting the devil horns and the tongue pose, huh?”

“…yeah, people’ve really clung to that…”

“It’s a good pose! To be fair, and really great in the scene.”

“Well, I thought so! Still do. But… It’s really something walking and seeing that picture staring at you all over.”

“Which proves my earlier point. Your lines are… Way longer than mine will ever be, so… To bring us back to the original point… Us pitiful authors are more likely to not be recognized than you actors that are so well loved and pretty enough to be recognized—”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?”

You laughed, a bit harder than you intended, eyes looking at him as you felt a warmth traveling up your face. Licking your lips, clearing your throat, “—I’m… I’m saying… It’s more natural that you’d be recognized more than like… Well, me. So, you know, if you’re feeling bad about it… Well, that’s stupid, don’t do that.”

He grinned at that, a soft chuckle joining in as his eyes looked down a moment, and you swore, you swore you saw his ears gain a slight reddish tinge of color before he looked up at you again. “…I’ll admit, I was feeling a bit of a twat which, well… I practically feel that every moment of my fucking life one way or another, but…” He smiled, “In this case, I’ll…try not to. Which is difficult.”

“Ah… Right…. The British thing, huh?”

That earned an immediate laugh, his eyes looking at you incredulously. He paused a moment, his smile widening further. “…you’re…working through your birthday. How American of you.”

“Pfft, not as if this is anything remotely classified as hard labor. You’ve clearly never worked an hourly wage job, huh?”

“Excuse me?” he said, a touch of offense in his tone and by the expression on his face. “You don’t know me. I could have been a hard-working lad.”

“Did you, then?”

He paused, lips parted, and an ever-growing smile on his face. “… no, but I could’ve done.” You laughed. “You can’t go just assuming things is my point.”

“Yeah, okay, fair.” Giving him a nod, “A fair point. And, yeah,” you admitted with a sigh. “I voluntarily chose to be here during my birthday weekend.” Giving a shrug, “Girl’s gotta eat. And, honestly, worse places to be on your birthday. I’m kinda fond of this convention. Meet up with a lot of fellow authors, and yes, the readers are great, it’s really cool to connect and see who is still willing to read my shit, so…”

“Well,” he interjected, nodding toward where one of your readers had sat down. “She seemed quite interested, so, I can see why you enjoy doing this.”

“And it’s local for me, too. So not much of a hassle, just drove here from home… Gonna drive back after some food… And yes, I get a bit of money and an ego boost so it might as well be on my birthday — don’t ask me how old, I won’t say.”

“Oh, no, I would never. My mum would never allow that if she knew, so no, won’t be doing that.”

You chuckled, “…you really are a mama’s boy, aren’t you?”

He snorted, “The sexiest thing in the world to be, I’m sure… But… Well, yeah, guess I am, a bit… That entirely make me sound like a… I dunno, a… It’s not sexy, is it? Like, I’m some man child or… Someone unappealing? Need to cut the cord sort of thing? Which I have! I am… Live by myself and all that, I just… Well… It’s my mum, you know? And yeah, I adore her.”

You were impressed he fully admitted to favoring his mum, most guys you’ve hung around with wouldn’t have. Gerry did, and Gerry was definitely classified as a mama’s boy from the get-go, but he entirely did not count in your eyes. That, coupled with the fact that the way in which Joseph asked was… Genuine. Vulnerable, even. And the way he did speak about his mum… That made him a very dangerous man.

Chuckling softly, you shook your head. “Doesn’t sound unappealing at all. It’s… It’s kinda… It’s the sweetest, actually.”

His eyes seemed to soften, sparked by his smile as his fingers stroked along his bearded jaw. “Yeah? Well,” placing his hand down, giving you a challenging look. “Sweet is hardly sexy, though, is it?”

Letting out a hum, your shoulders lift in a small shrug towards him, “Could be to some people.”

Licking his lips as he became silent for a few fleeting seconds, used, in his head, to ponder the point of even asking what was swirling in his head. Staring at you, the inside of his cheek nestled between his side teeth, deciding if he really wanted to know and just by how much, but he asked it anyway — “Is it, to you?”

You wanted to laugh.

Just… Laugh.

Your eyebrows lifted, of course. Lips twitching a bit, to the point where your teeth bit into the flesh of your bottom lip. There was even a feeling of heat traveling up your neck. Joseph Quinn are you seducing me? echoed in your head, which only added to the whole hilarity of the moment and made you want to laugh even more.

Lips parted, though your mind went blank. Reassurance that he was just being funny was screaming in your head, that it was a joke, that he was just being kind. Crossing your arms in front of you, a laugh did escape you, but more of a huff rather than the complete guffaw you wanted to let out. The thought was too much — he was being too much with those eyes of his, peering at you like that. His head tilted back slightly, and you swore his eyes scanned your face, somewhat wolfish in the manner.

Worse?

He licked his god damn lips.

Fuck him.

“Could be,” you finally answer, repeating your earlier words. “Depending on the person.”

He exhaled through his nose in a huff, smile shown on that unfair face of his. He bit the corner of his lip, giving a nod, “So, definitely not a deal breaker?”

“As long as they don’t call me mommy or…try and make me into their mom in some weird, Oedipus kink sort of situation… No, no, not a deal breaker.”

“N—“he started, but a chuckle interrupted his words for a moment, shaking his head. “No, no, that would be… Yeah, Oedipus kink is a fair deal breaker…” Looking at you a moment, he took in a deep breath. “Do you like chocolate?”

“…um,” furrowing your brows and letting out a laugh. “I… I don’t really trust anyone that says they don’t, even a little bit. Outside of allergies, of course.”

“Right, of course. So, but are you a big fan of it? Like… Is it your favorite?”

“God, yes. I can never have enough chocolate, I will do…ungodly things for chocolate. Why?”

He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, pointing toward the kitchen. “They… They have this like, chocolate ganache ricotta cheesecake here that is…” his words trailed off, shaking his head in almost disbelief, “…the most…delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Not too sweet, but still indulgent and just… Absolutely amazing… And… I… Yeah, just realized I’m trying to sell you on something you’ve most likely already had probably so many times, haven’t you?”

There was such a pitying look on your face, “…you looked so excited telling me all that…”

“Fuck,” he let out, leaning back in his seat. “Really thought I was doing something, there… Shit.” He ended with a soft laugh, rubbing the side of his neck. “It’s fucking delicious though, isn’t it?”

“Oh,” you let out, leaning against the back of your chair, “I would give my first born for an endless supply of that cheesecake, yeah. Favorite is the caramel drizzle on top.”

He laughed, more at ease, “Well, I don’t…really have a need for a first born at the moment, but… And seeing as you’ve pronounced caramel properly and the right way—”

“God, you are so British.”

“Yes, I am, now, shut up,” he chuckled, licking his lips. “…let me buy you a slice of that cheesecake. I won’t ask for a candle but, well… It is your birthday, and you are valiantly working through it… So…?”

An immediate smile came across your face, and it was in that moment you noted the light stinging of your cheeks, alerting you to just how much you were smiling within this interaction. Much more than you had in quite a while.

That could be enough, couldn’t it?

It wouldn’t be right to just accept it right away. So said some residual bullshit of pride in not seeking gifts from men you just met or accepting things so easily rose in you. One that mainly came from growing up in a family that was that prideful, the words of your older sister and maybe even your mother bubbled up. “You don’t have to do that…”

“I know. But I want to,” he said oh so casually. “Cheaper than drinks,” he joked with a light chuckle. “And I mean… More indulgent, I think… And, yes, you were right, I was…so…looking at your boobs like some fucking caveman and I need to rectify that.”

You laughed at that, causing his face to flush a bit.

“So, please…” he didn’t even ask again, looking toward the bartender, raising a hand. “Can you add that lovely chocolate ganache ricotta cheesecake to her order? I’ll pay for it or — actually, just add it to my tab, I should be sorting it out, already, thanks.”

It wasn’t normal, how that last part made your heart sink a bit. “Heading off?”

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you swore you saw a hint of regret on his face. “Yeah, really should meet up with my mate. I really was on my way to do that, just…” He smiled at you. “Got a bit distracted.”

Giving out a nod, you hummed, “That does happen.”

“Mmhm,” he let out, taking his wallet from his pocket, the card reader placed in front of him. “So,” he started, whipping out his credit card and going forward with the payment. “You’re a writer. What do you write about, then?”

Ah, yes.

You were wondering when that question would come out. There were a lot of ways to go about it, flowery words — vague words that you knew others in your field typically went toward when someone not in your field would ask that question. Thing was… You never really got along with those that skirt around it, instead, admired those bold enough to be direct. Because that’s what you were at times.

Blunt and direct.

“Oh… Lady porn, basically.”

His credit card stilled in mid-air, just inches away from the tap icon and you watched with amusement — it was entirely out of amusement — as he seemed to freeze right on the spot. Perhaps he hadn’t heard you right. A trick of the ears, of you telling him something completely different to what he heard. Tap went the card, hearing the light chirp of the machine before the card was lifted once more, tapping the no receipt option and his eyes — oh, his eyes! They blinked, more than a few times as his hands returned his credit card back to his wallet, and you could tell the words lady porn were repeating themselves over and over in his head.

Slowly, he turned to look at you as his wallet was once more in his pocket, a look of confusion taking root on his face, licking his lips. “…what...?” Shaking his head, “Sorry, but I thought I heard…. What?”

Oh, it was too funny.

Your lips stretched into a grin, forcing you to bite your lower lip before you repeated yourself. “I…write lady porn for a living. That’s what I do, that’s why they invite me.”

“…lady porn.”

“Mmhm.”

His lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, eyeing you up and down. “…what, like… Uh… Playboy or, er, Playgirl or something like that…?”

You burst out laughing at that, covering your mouth, “No!”

His smile broke out, a brightness in his eyes as he, too, burst out laughing. “Well! What do you mean by that — Lady porn?! What does that…? I don’t understand, I saw a book!”

You had covered your face as your shoulders shook. Prompting his brows to raise in a look of total offense he couldn’t even muster to look genuine.

“Don’t laugh, please don’t laugh at me. What does that mean?” His tone was desperate, elevating in pitch that, you had to admit, was quite cute.

“It means I do write books. I write erotic books. Erotica. Like… Total literary porn but with a good dash of plot if anyone even reads them for that. I’m not strictly in the adult entertainment industry like that, although…”

You gave a shrug, thinking about it, “It’s not a bad idea… I could probably write the hell of a porn scene, like… Passionate, definitely made for women type of stuff. But no, not me, I just… I write characters or a character that is pretty free with her inhibitions and unapologetically likes sex and likes it a lot. So… yeah, that’s me.”

“Right…” He chuckled, nodding a bit, “Okay… Yeah, that… That’s makes more sense…” His lips spread in a smile as he looked at you. “I wasn’t really expecting that…”

“I mean, I could have said romance which is definitely the blanket term which…” You sighed, “I mean, I guess, technically I could say that… Less of a reaction if I did, I’m sure… But…” A soft shake of your head comes, “The ones that try and blanket their work as romance always seem…”

Licking your lips as you try to come up with the right words. “I don’t know… Kind of ashamed of their work. Like if it’s about sex, it’s… Cheap… Tawdry form of art or… The dreaded ‘not real writing’. Like if the story of two people meeting, connecting with one another in the most primal and human way is somehow less than if that same story were told but the focus not being about sex but instead the focus being this…” You sighed, “I don’t know, flowery, almost virginal point of view with characters that are just perfect and have no flaws. Selling on the story of true love fixes all when… Sometimes love just isn’t enough. I get the appeal, don’t get me wrong, we all want a little fantasy but… I don’t know, there’s just this double standard in the industry. That to be seen as a true writer, you can’t make the emphasis on passion and desire, but you are if what you write about is how someone completes you and I…”

His smile was gentle, warm, the chuckle escaping him matched it. “That’s… That’s not you.”

“No…” you answered, a sly smile to your face. “I’m not or ever will be ashamed that I write hot ass smut.”

“I…” he started, his grin wide and eyes twinkling with utter amusement. “I can’t say for sure or not, but I definitely don’t doubt it.” Brows raising in thought, his smile turning a bit mischievous, “Then again… I could go ahead and buy your books, couldn’t I? To know for sure, completely and without question…”

Taking in a deep breath, ignoring the sense of panic at the mere thought of him reading your work, you tried to play it cool, shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t know if you could handle it, honestly? I mean… Your immediate go to for porn were playboy, or, er, playgirl… You’re kinda behind the times.”

“Oh, am I?” his face still the perfect image of amused. “Would you rather I whip out names like, brazzers or something?”

A dramatic eye roll given, “God, you would go for brazzers. All men go for brazzers.”

“Oh, is that unoriginal for you? And you would go for…?”

“Mmm… Nubiles, Vixen… Adult Time can be good… For straight, porn, anyway. Bellesa is doing good...” You look at his face and you laugh. “Am I shocking you that I know this many labels of porn creators?”

“A bit, yeah!” he barked out with a laugh. “I, erm… Just that… You watch porn.”

“I write porn, so of course I watch it. How else am I supposed to write out the sexual depravity that my readers secretly yearn for but would never say out loud? That’s my job, I give it to them, make them explore a bit of themselves they never voiced or would even admit to their own damn selves. It’s selfless work.”

He practically giggled. You made this man giggle. Looking incredulously at you, leaning back, shaking his head, “Oh, now I’ve got to read your stuff. It’s a need, now. As soon as we…ever finish this conversation, I’m going to my kindle. Though, I do like the physicality of reading an actual book most of the time…”

“Well, I am selling them in the dealer’s room… I even have an in for them to be personally signed by the author. She’s hard up for money and attention, so…” You shrugged.

His hand dramatically smacked against his own chest, right over his heart, “I would be honored to have personally signed copies of that particular author’s works. I heard very good things. And then I can fully understand what the fuck is lady porn and see if I become a whole new man after I do.”

“Love to hear it, if you manage it over the weekend… At least your taste in porn would improve.”

His ears were burning, smiling wide and looking down for a moment. Positively bashful at the comment, licking his lips. “Did that, um… Probably not, I mean, you just admitted to watching a fair bit of it, but um… I mean… Though you are sort of insulting my supposed lack of porn knowledge—”

“Supposed? Are you saying you’ve seen more than you’ve let on?”

The smirk he let out was like that of a young schoolboy that was up to no good. “…no. Well… Maybe—I mean, if I did, would that… Would you…” He huffed a small laugh, “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, it feels ridiculous…”

“Oh,” you let out, quickly understanding. “Are you, like… Are you worried whatever version of you inside my head is shattered on the fact that… I don’t know… That you watch porn, even basic porn, and are not, in fact, squeaky clean bordering on virginal?”

“…basically, yeah.”

You had to laugh, even a little bit, “Oh, you’re cute.”

“Stop it.”

“No,” you laughed. Realizing you needed to elaborate on that singular no. “I mean… No, there is no…shattering of whatever image of you out there or… I’m not disappointed or anything. Never thought you above porn, obviously. Or like… You’re so squeaky clean that I thought you wouldn’t…indulge. Fuck, I indulge… You’re grown, do what you want.”

“So… Doesn’t make you think less of me that I’m… Like I’m some big perv? Like um…”

“Oh, you are a big perv,” you laughed, “Remember? You were glued to the sight of my boobs, like…”

He burst out laughing, a grin on your face.

“You, Joseph Quinn, are an absolute pervert. And that’s okay.”

“…god, I’m never living that down, am I? Not ever? You’re going to go through life and just, whenever I’m brought up, just… ‘Oh, yeah, I met him once. A fucking caveman of a perv just looking at my tits.’ Amazing impression I’ve left.” You snickered, “One hell of a role model of a human being.”

“Shut up, it’s not terrible. Makes you human, you know? Honestly? It’s kinda…” And you trail off, your words halting.

And he catches it, of course, he catches it. Big brown eyes lighting up, looking at you, expectantly.

Your lips twitch, the words burning on your tongue, your bold, up-front attitude begging you to say it. Maybe he’ll be flattered, or perhaps it would catch him off guard that you’d see his ears get all pink and cute and it could be a nice memory for you to hold on to. But there was a part of you that was holding back. That didn’t want to veer into the realm of being cringe, though you hated the term and what it’s become. You wanted to be authentic, wanted to be yourself.

You wanted to say that the fact he was a bit of a perv… Was actually kind of hot.

The fact that you liked that he thought with his dick, that he wasn’t some baby girl type of man that you had to censor yourself around. That he could say fuck and wanted to get fucked. That he wasn’t the persona you saw on hundreds of TikTok’s on your for you page. Not fitting the narrative so many of his fans projected onto him. That he could be crude. He liked tits. Probably ass, too. Maybe even a leg man. Liked porn, wouldn’t mind reading your porn, if he was being honest about that.

The fact that all of that was very… Very hot to you was alarming enough that you just didn’t want to speak it out loud.

He was just being nice. And you didn’t want to say or do anything that would make him…not want to be nice.

Luckily, very luckily, your food was brought to the counter, veering both of you off topic.

Thank God.

Sliders, loaded fries, drinks and…a very generous slice of the chocolate ganache ricotta cheesecake — with caramel drizzle. You smiled, looking from the plates set in front of you back to Joseph. “Guess our conversation has come to an end. I should get this back to my very hungry friends by now.”

He gave a nod, smiling gently, though there was a sense of disappointment in his gaze at you. “…I have to get a hold of my mate, as well.” He watched as you stared at the plates, holding the sliders in one hand, the loaded fries in the other, still leaving the three drinks and the cheesecake. Biting his lip, he picked those right up, catching your eye with a smile. “Let me help you to your table, yeah? It’s practically on my way out.”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you sure? I can always make two trips or even text my friend to come help me—”

“Nah, we could do it just fine, I think. It’s no trouble, I promise.”

Part of you wanted to protest, insist that you could do it on your own or even bring Jen or Gerry along to help. You figured he had some place way more important to be, but the look of that smile on his face and his willingness to help… God, it wasn’t like you could say no, could you? A relenting breathy laugh flowed from you, as well as the relaxing of your shoulders. “That…would be amazing, actually… Thank you.” With a smirk, you added, “Your mum definitely raised you right.”

“Oh, can I tell her you said that? I think she worries, sometimes…”

His cheeky smile makes you laugh, only allowing the smile to grow wider. You started off on your path, allowing him to follow.

Licking his lips after a few steps, he took a deep breath. “Fake Taxi.”

That caused you to pause a moment, looking back at him, clearly confused.

He chuckles, nudging your shoulder. “…it’s not just brazzers, it’s… Sometimes it’s Fake Taxi.”

It clicks, and you let out a snort. “…really? Huh… I watch that sometimes, too…” You start walking again, spotting the jovial look on his face. “Do I have to sign an NDA now that you’ve confessed that Joseph Quinn watches porn? Wouldn’t want that all over the internet…”

“I don’t think you’d disappoint my mum like that… I am her baby boy, after all…” he let out as you let out a laugh. “And… Oddly… I kinda trust you.”

There was a warmth the sparked within you, not up your neck or on your face… But within your chest, surprising yourself. Taking a deep breath, you let out a sigh. “Well… It would ruin people’s image of you being so babygirl, so… I wouldn’t dare be the reason behind that.”

He let out a sigh, “Babygirl, really? I don’t even get Babyboy? Or man. Babyman?”

You know he’s trying to be cute, and he in fact, very much is, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh, turning to look at him. “…you really standing there in front of me, preferring to be called Babyman?”

“Not good?” he said with such a serious face, that it becomes comical to you. “Think I should go with something else? You’re the writer, what do you suggest?”

“From my ongoing conversation with you? Manchild.”

He let out a gasp, an actual gasp, looking at you with a hurt expression. “That hurt.”

“For someone that’s so dead set against being called babygirl… You sure are acting very babygirl.”

He tutted, “For the last time… I’m manly. Maybe you should spread the word. Do a TikTok.” Though the smile on his face gave the impression he didn’t mind, carrying on behind you, walking through the throngs of people, still… Avoiding the crack in the floor and further and further along toward your table.

You saw Jen and Gerry straight away, but there was a third person, very tall. Lanky, even. Speaking animatedly so much that his arms were almost flailing about and from what you could tell from Jen’s face, telling a rather intriguing story. Shoulder length blond hair swayed with his movements, a rich voice starting to cut through the crowd. It was familiar. You recognized him, you think. There isn’t much you can tell from the back of someone’s head. It wasn’t until…

“Jamie?” came Joseph’s voice beside you and that’s when the other turned around and those bright blue eyes confirmed it for you.

That was Jamie fucking Campbell-Bower.

V e c n a, himself.

“Mate!” Joseph let out, putting the trays he had on your table, putting his hands on Jamie’s shoulder. “Where the fuck have you been, yeah? Been waiting for you, meaning to call you, but...” Whether he intended to or not, his eyes flickered toward you for a split second, before going back toward his mate. “…got distracted. Where you been?”

“Right!” he let out, his hands grasping at Joseph’s forearms, “Sorry! Meant to call as well, signing went a bit longer than expected. Mobile completely died…”

“Oh, so, even if I called you…”

“Yeah, you’d been fucked, mate, sorry.”

He laughed, “Well, I feel not as bad, now, cheers.”

Jamie laughed, patting his arm, “Well, we found one another now and —” turning toward your table, “Mobile’s been charged.”

“Me,” Jen let out, “Because of me, because I have a portable charger on me, hi,” looking directly at you. Eyes wide, and an expression that was genuinely screaming — you’ve got some explaining to do, Miss.

You let out a grin, returning the look pointedly at her, wondering what your life was right now. “Always bring a portable charger,” you let out, placing the trays in your hands to join the ones that Joseph let down. Turning to Joseph, you gestured toward your friends, “So, these are the hungry friends I was trying to get more food to… My best friend Jen and her forever fiancé, Gerry.”

He immediately let go of Jamie and toward them, “Hello! Hi, lovely to meet you,” shaking their hands warmly. “Right, well, I’m Joe.”

“Oh, we know,” Jen let out, a smile on her face looking from Joe and to you. “Yeah, we know who you are.”

Wench.

“Nice to meet you,” Gerry interjected, thankfully, shaking his hand. “We loved Eddie, you did such a cool job, amazing job. When we all watched it, one of the specific things that struck me was like… Eddie was so someone I knew in high school, like, you got that down, it was really cool.”

You watched as Joseph put his hand over his heart, his face melting, “Oh my god, thank you, that’s very kind. Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot, and it honestly means so much. I’m glad…” A soft laugh let out, “Whatever I did, it’s honestly a blur sometimes, resonated so much, thank you.” Taking a deep breath, “Now,” a step back, his fingers swaying between Jamie and Gerry, “…you two seemed a bit familiar, there a story there? I’m not jealous, but…” His back straightened, looking between the two, “I sort of am.”

“Joseph, you know you’re my favorite boy.”

“I demand answers.”

“I demand you not be so fucking rude, hi,” Jamie let out, turning to you with a warm smile and a hand, “Since I was going to wait forever, I’ll introduce myself,” pausing for the snort Joseph let out. “I’m Jamie, love,” he chuckled through. “Nice to meet you, how are you?”

You laughed, taking his hand and shaking it, “I’m amazing, lovely to meet you. And since we’re blowing up Joseph’s ass,” you started, getting a laugh out of that from the boys, “Can I say… Your casting was fucking brilliant. The way how soft One was when he was just the orderly? If I was looking into those big blue eyes, I would have believed anything he said, so good on you.”

Jamie laughed, holding your hand even tighter in his grip. “Oh, that’s so lovely of you! Warms my heart to hear that.”

“Honestly, I mean it, and that whole reveal with Vecna, One, Henry, that was so beautiful.”

“Yes, it was… Honestly so pleased how it turned out. And I did enjoy doing the whole monologue with Henry, really getting to know how his mind works. Thank you, I appreciate that so much, darling.”

Joseph took in a deep breath, “Yeah, this is why I didn’t introduce you, mate.”

You snorted, looking over at him and stuck out your tongue. “Anyway… And despite him being rude… I concur, you two looked like you knew one another… But that’s impossible because Gerry would never let that slip his mind to not even mention to us…” your words trailed, as you looked to the man in question, narrowing your eyes. “…yes, you fucking would, actually.”

Taking a deep breath, Gerry scratched the back of his neck. “We… Well… We kinda played a few clubs together, a few years back… During one of my tours…”

“Shit,” Joseph let out, recognition hitting him. “You’re in that band. With your brother, yeah? You’re a musician. Fuck, you look different.”

A sheepish smile came over Gerry’s face, “Oh… Yeah, I’m kinda known for being wildly inconsistent with my looks, at least back then.” Looking over at Jamie, “How’s the music coming along?”

“Oh, chaotic, as usual, but fun but definitely still going, though very slowly. Which I sort of enjoy, no need to rush it.”

“Slow and steady,” Jen supplied, looking directly at you which only made you narrow your eyes.

Choosing to ignore it, knowing exactly what she was driving at. “Sorry, sorry, I’m still going over the fact that you two,” a swaying hand between Jamie and Gerry, “…know each other. I mean, I kinda expect it, but the fact that,” pointing at Jen, “Did you know this?”

“No,” she said sternly, her brows risen as she said it. “Trust me, it was just as big of a surprise to me, too.” Turning to her fiancé, she cleared her throat. “We’re gonna have a big talk about this.”

“We’ve could’ve had Jamie Campbell Bower on a podcast, and you just sat on that information?! Dishonor on you and your whole ass family. Except Jen. Obviously.”

“You have a podcast?” You heard Joe practically squeak, Jamie laughing soon after.

Smiling a bit, you turn to him, “I have a bit of everything. Some of us embrace the internet and don’t act like some babyface boomers.”

Jamie cackled, his hand patting Joe on the back as he stood there, staring at you in a mock offended expression on his face as he let out, “How… Fucking… dare you.”

“I don’t know, mate, she seems to got you clocked,” Jamie let out, giving an approving nod. “Spot on, love.”

Joseph let out a sigh, “…oh, you’re all against me.”

“Well,” you replied, “You just make it both easy and so much fun.”

Jamie crossed his arms, looking between the two of you, “Okay, well, got me curious, how’s this come about?”

Joe let out a chuckle, “Jealous, are we?”

“A bit, you’re my precious boy —” his smile breaking out as he looked at you, “I’m just curious, crazy coincidence? Or serendipity.”

But before you could even attempt to answer, Joe beat you to it. “Oh, I saved her.”

You watched as Jen’s eyes widened, head tilting and worry on her face, “Excuse me, what?”

“The floor,” Joe started, “…attacked her. Almost sent her to her death, but I was there.”

And just like that, the worry fled her face as she let out a sigh. “The boots?”

“That and a crack on the floor, yeah. Or just uneven flooring. I don’t know, the tip of my boot hit it and yes, Joe was there and…caught me when I fell.”

You hated the way Jen’s face lit up at that. You’ve known her for so long that you knew the wheels were turning in her head. Soon enough, she let out, “Wow, that sounds… Absolutely storybook. You should write about it.”

Oh, if looks could kill… Or at the very least give a light smack of the head. “It was very…serendipitous.”

“It was good luck,” Joseph let out, clearing his throat. “Just plain good luck,” pointing a look at you.

That made you smile as you looked over at him, “Again, thanks for saving me.”

Chuckling softly, he gave a nod, “Well, that would’ve been embarrassing, I hear. Dying on your birthday, glad to help avoid that.”

If your eyes hadn’t been so trained on Joseph, you would have seen the look between Jen and Gerry, though you knew… You knew… As soon as it was just the three of you, the questions would come bombarding you. You couldn’t even blame them, really. This was easily the most insane few moments you’ve ever experienced. And it wasn’t quite over, yet, as Jamie slapped his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, eyes wide, “Joseph, you’re a hero now? Fancy that.”

“Are you proud, Papa?” he asked cheekily, looking up at him.

“Insanely, always knew you were so good.” Both chuckling at each other, before Jamie’s blue eyes found you. “And you! Happy Birthday, I hope it’s a good one.” He pointed at the slice of cheesecake, “Is that your birthday treat?”

“I was noticing that,” Jen chirped, “Treating yourself?”

“Actually…”

“I bought it for her, put it on my tab,” Joe answered, notably avoiding any glances before gently patting Jamie’s cheek, making him blink and look incredulously at him. “Oi, we got to book it,” he managed to get out before having a chuckle. “I got that panel in a few hours, but we wanted to…”

“Oh, right, that place, yeah…” Looking at the three of you, he smiled politely, “Sorry, would’ve loved to have a sit down but we really wanted to check out —”

“Jamie, no,” Joe let out, shaking his head, and looking at you with squinty eyes. “…. she’ll make fun of us.”

You have out a gasp, your hand over your heart, “How dare… I mean, probably.” It was your turn to narrow your eyes, looking at them both. “…it’s something British, isn’t it?”

Lifting his chin up, Joseph placed a finger against his lips and then a zipping of lips flourish which made you chuckle. His smile spread wide as he gave you a wink. “Happy Birthday. See you around the circus.”

“Wave a white flag if you need help,” you told him, watching the flash of his teeth as he dragged Jamie away who waved at you all. You couldn’t help it, watching after him until he was out of sight. Mainly because you couldn’t quite comprehend what just happened between the two of you, and the other part…

God, now you had to face Jen.

Your best friend in the world, sitting back in her seat with the most shit eating grin you had ever seen in your life. Letting out a soft groan, you sat down, pushing the burgers and sliders towards her — though you grabbed one for yourself. Taking a bite and with a flourish of your hand, gestured toward her. “Go ahead.”

“You fell into his fucking arms?!” was her immediate start. Her face disbelieving, a laugh struggling to come out. “That is why your ass was taking so long?”

“Hey, I almost died.”

“But you didn’t. And why? Because you had Mister Tall, British Man there to catch you when you fell!” Shaking her head, taking a slider and taking a bite but still looking at you.

The smile couldn’t help but form on your lips, shaking your head, “It was…a surreal moment.”

“It was a Jane Austen kinda moment.”

“He definitely has those vibes.”

“Dare we say like a Bridget Jones and Mark Darcy kinda vibe?”

You shook your head, “Wasn’t embarrassing enough for that. I’d have to had my boob fall out or show off my chonies or something like that. He’d make an awesome Mark Darcy, though.”

“He’d like you. Just as you are.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed, your attention going to Gerry, “But also, seriously, never mentioned the whole Jamie thing? We all saw Stranger Things together, dude.”

He held his hands up, “Hey, I meet a lot of people and you both know I hate name dropping.”

Sighing, looking at Jen, “Of all the musicians you had to fall for, you get the modest emo one.”

She sighed, looking at Gerry, “I know. The heart wants what it wants and we just gotta deal with it.”

“Love you, too.” Gerry leaning back in his seat, “Fine, maybe I could ask if he wants to sit in on a podcast, he might be really fun for you guys, actually.”

“Or Joe,” Jen lets out, smiling like the Cheshire cat at you. “Fess up. Did you get that man’s number?”

You snorted, looking at her with an arched brow. “Oh, I love that you think that I would even attempt to shoot my shot with him. Are you kidding? Do you know how many people in this vicinity that want to dick that man down? And the fact he’d probably turn them all down to dick down someone entirely not of our league, like an actress, model, singer… No. No, I did not score his number. I didn’t even ask for a photo.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t ask for a photo?! Like c’mon, he totally would have said yes.”

“I don’t know!” you said, finishing off the slider, giving a shrug. “I… I didn’t even think about it, honestly? Though, someone did approach and somewhere there is a pic of me and a pic of him with someone. One of my folks, a reader.”

You watched as Jen’s face switched from outraged to something resembling…pride. “Oh wow, that’s kinda cool.” Letting out a sigh, “You still should have…. I don’t know, if you weren’t going to get his number, at least a photo or something.”

“I got a cheesecake, and… Honestly… We talked, like, a lot.” You smiled, shaking your head. “He’s… He’s pretty cool, actually. Funny, too. More than those interviews usually show… I rather have had the conversation than like, a photo or a number that… Let’s face it. He’d either give me a fake one or change it overnight. Or ghost me, if he’s the type. It was good, the moment we had. I enjoyed it.”

“That’s all that matters,” Gerry let out, looking to Jen with as stern a look he could muster. “That’s all that matters.” He paused a moment, looking at you. “He smiled at you a lot though. There was definitely…something between you two.”

“Oh, God.”

“Right? Right?!” Jen practically squealed, “I knew it, I saw it, too! This is why I love you.” Gerry raised his brows, “One of many reasons! I promise.”

“You guys are way off. He’s just really nice, that’s all. But I’m glad he was. If he turned out to be a dick, that would be devastatingly heartbreaking.”

They both gave a relenting nod, eating their food for a moment while you dug into your cheesecake. Though you hadn’t meant to, your mind sort of swirled with little replays of that whole experience with him. The sound of his laugh, his smile, his eyes. Smiling a bit to yourself as you take that first bite, a small groan of appreciation.

It tastes sweeter than you remembered.

Your mind not daring to venture as to why, but you knew.

“He’s not my type—”

“Yeah,” you started, “We saw how you were looking at Jamie—”

“Shut up,” Jen told you, amongst your cackling, though she relented, “Okay, yeah, but… Joseph looked good… Like… With the beard and hair, you know what he looked like, right?”

“Enjolras,” you gave out, quite dreamily, without even taking a beat. “He was giving Enjolras.”

You could see Jen’s pearly teeth in her smile as she leaned forward, “You fucking love Enjolras.”

Your lips struggled to contain the smile that came out from the statement, the very true statement. Couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to. She was there when you all binge watched Les Misérables and watched him on screen, your eyes never leaving him, unashamedly.

“Enjolras is fucking hot,” you relent. “He was very hot…”

He still is.

Breaking out of the trance that induced you into, dragging reality to crash down into you. “Not that it matters. He’s probably… No, you know, it doesn’t even matter if he’s dating someone or not, it’s not… I’m not looking for anything and… No point in even entertaining anything otherwise. I’ll probably see him passing by through the con and nothing more than that, so… Yes, he’s hot, and very nice and…”

He smelled good. Like very good.

“You purring?”

Grabbing your straw, opening the end and blowing through it as the paper wrapper hit her so perfectly. Making her laugh. “You know what? Fuck off, firstly. And to prove that I know nothing will come of this, so it won’t be awkward… And a bit of an ego boost for me…” You licked your lips, a momentary sense of guilt, but, continuing anyway. “You know how he was there to catch me? He was walking and saw my boobs and was distracted so much that he was just there when I tripped.”

Sorry, Joseph. But it really wasn’t like you were going to see him again. And it really was too good to not share eventually.

“No!” your friend gasped.

“Oh, wow,” Gerry let out. “You guys know I’m still here, right?”

Ignoring him, you nodded, “Yup. Joseph Quinn? Total tit man.”

“Spellbound by the chichis,” Jen laughed. “I mean, wench, they do look nice in that top, not gonna lie.”

“And that totally saved my life, probably, maybe. Saying that, stays with us, don’t wanna spread that around. He did save my life, and,” gesturing towards your boobs as you sat back. “You’re right. Can’t blame him.” A soft chuckle emerges just as you feel the strong vibration of your phone. Shit. Telemarketer? Sister? Dad? Sitting up and digging into your pocket, you recognized the contact as none of the previously mentioned. “It’s the con peeps,” you let out, accepting the call. “Hey, what’s up, did we get bumped off?”

“Hey, sorry, no, not that. We’re uh, we’re kinda in a bind.”

Looking over at Jen and Gerry, you raised a brow, “What kinda bind?”

“Shelly had to pull out. Or, um… Well, she had a sort of…emergency…”

Your eyes narrowed as that sounded ominous. “…what kind of emergency?”

“…the…bring a new life into the world kinda emergency.”

“Aww!” came your immediate response. “Oh, that’s great, god, I saw her earlier, she seemed so miserable being in this heat and over her due date—Oh.” You let out a hiss, “Oh yeah, yeah that sucks for you guys.”

“Yeah, it’s great for her, but, not so much for us, so… She had a panel that she was gonna moderate in a few hours. And you’re always good about filling in and it won’t interfere with any of your bookings or anything like that and you’re always so good with them… Can you cover it for her?”

“They want me to cover a panel,” you explained to your friends, covering the bottom half of your phone before getting back to the call. “Um, yeah, sure, she’s always good with notes so I won’t be completely in the dark.”

“You’ll be great, just, you know, maybe… Tone it down a bit?”

“Oh god, are there going to be children? I can’t… I mean I can try and censor myself, but you know what I’m like when I really get going.”

“I know, but we’re really in a bind…”

“You’ve said that. I’m like your last resort, aren’t I?”

“…I’m not going to say yes, but I’m also definitely not gonna say no…”

“I do love your honesty. Okay. Yeah, it could be fun. I had a big gap between tonight’s panel anyway, I could squeeze one in between. When is it?”

“A couple of hours, thank you! We were scrambling. Getting desperate, we really didn’t want to cancel.”

“I got you guys. Is it a group panel or…”

“No, no, it’s a solo one, one actor, a whole hour and vetted questions from the audience. It’s that guy from Stranger Things? New to the cons, he played Eddie Munson? It’s going to be a big crowd…”

Oh, there was a buzzing in your head. Looking over at your friends who looked a bit concerned right back at you.

Oh, god.

What even was your life?

It had to be a joke, right? Some cosmic joke that whatever higher being was up there, so bored that he decided to just fuck with your life.

And on your birthday.

On your birthday!

“…yeah. Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Jesus H. Christ.

What the fuck.

What the fuck?

#✍🏻 — yve's writings #📖 — here with me series #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x latina!reader

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incorrectbatfam · 7 months

Note

Hi! Can I ask how you started your blog/started getting the attention of people on Batfam tumblr? I’ve just started my own blog and I’m completely at sea on what to do!

I'm secretly @staff

I didn't go in to try and do something new nor did I expect much of a reaction. I know everyone says that, but honestly some real-life stuff happened and suddenly I had a bunch of free time that I couldn't fill with my usual hobbies without violating my parole. (This username was a steal though, idk how no one took it.)

So I don't really have a solid approach, but I do keep a few things in mind:

Looks kinda matter. By that I mean putting at least some effort into your theme (including the desktop one—you can use Tumblr's preset or do the HTML yourself) and making it match the content you make. Also, good post formatting and tagging goes a long way or make it a car wreck they peer at while slowly driving by

Try to stay on topic. For me at least, one big reason blogs tend to blur together is because they have this fandom (or whatever I initially followed for), other fandoms, politics, aesthetics, memes, etc. all wadded up in one place like the communist eraser my friends and I made in ninth grade. And of course it's their choice, but if someone follows you for Batman, generally they're gonna look through your blog for Batman

Interact with people but don't be annoying. Don't be the follow-for-follow person, the one self-promoting in someone else's reblogs, or the one tagging 69,420 strangers in a post. Follow fans you like, take part in events, or join a fandom Discord. Get to know people and you'll automatically open up the fandomverse

Don't expect anything right away. Even if it's been a while and you only got 13 notes and 4 follows. This isn't Cloutsville, Muskachussetts. It's kind of a dice roll—one post might be the next @certified-iconic-post and another might not land the way you wanted. Also, don't be afraid to experiment and take feedback from others

Relax, have fun, and be true to your internet-curated self. It's easy to tell when someone's fixated on stats or when they're trying to be someone they're not (in terms of content, style, humor, etc.). Fandom is a hobby. It should be something laid-back and enjoyable for everyone. Steer clear of drama, learn to poke fun at your faves, don't dump your tragic backstory or recent divorce until you have level 12 hostages followers, and don't act like you're the greatest thing to walk this fandom because that's me and I will fight you in a Denny's parking lot

#batman #batfamily #batfam #batman family #dc comics #advice #bad advice #tumblr advice #tumblr #tumblr 101 #personal #opinion #fandom #ask #long post

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