#this hyperfixation isn't new actually

[omegabenaeart]

ADHD KICKED IN, GOT A NEW HYPERFIXATION TO BOTHER YOU GUYS WITH

Tutant

Meenage

Neetle

Teetles

Bonus Donnie under the cut 👍

This motherfucker cannot see without his glasses

[makethiscanon]

[heymacy]

💛

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[boundinparchment]

🤔🐌 🦖 for the ask game!

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

Depends on how 3.0 goes. I haven't felt much of anything for a lot of fictional characters (Sunday, I adore him, but I knew part of it would be fleeting because he was new for my brain).

🐌 What is one of your smallest writing goals?

Finishing Remnants. This thing was literally almost entirely written before I revamped it and I have everything just...needing to be assembled. It's small in comparison to tackling Rumors and Vertigo, where my plot is far lengthier and involved.

🦖 Are there any fandoms you wrote for in the past that you'd like to return to?

Some days, I consider writing for City of Love: Paris again. I even started a reader insert for it (based on the main character, who's a self-insert type anyway). The game left so much up in the air and it's an example of 'cool idea but terrible execution but it's Ub*soft, what should I have expected?' Same goes for Loki, for HP, for Hellsing. The thoughts are there but the motivation isn't. I don't think I ever could, really. In the same way that I wrote so much for Zhongli but don't anymore. It's not that I don't love the thing but that my love has taken a different shape, if that makes sense. Eventually, I'll be in that position with my current obsessions, too.

[depressed-writer9000]

I knew it was gonna happen and was still flabbergasted when it did

[widevibratobitch]

well shit. infodumped too close to the sun o7

[whoopsyeahokay]

Wreck It Like A Rumor

summary: prompt fill. Wally saves you from a joke gone terribly wrong the night of the Homecoming dance. what unfolds after is a friendship you desperately cling to as you try to survive the rest of term... what you don't know is that Wally Clark is deader than a doornail until you learn it the hard way. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut lite. AU - canon divergence. CWC (canon what canon). single mention of a mental health slur. attempted assault. protective behavior. angsty themes. hurt/comfort. bullying. HEA.

note: author hasn't watched S2. all knowledge of new content comes exclusively from GIFs on this platform. (i got tired of filtering Wally content. he's my babe. i am weak.)

bon reading, frens

___________________________🐦‍🔥

Wreck It Like A Rumor

They disguised themselves as friends.

You should've known when the one person out of the group you considered a sister—the girl you'd glommed onto in elementary, who'd been by your side through every shitty thing that'd unraveled your life at the time. You know, your real friend—started acting shifty.

Eyes down, nervous laugh, not giving you a straight answer when you asked her if she was okay.

"Help! Anyone, please! Let me out of here!"

You pound your fist against the door, tears streaming down your face. Mascara smudged, nail polish chipped, kicking and banging and screaming until your skin is red and blotchy.

It's Homecoming. You never went to the dances, tend to avoid a lot of high school social events like the plague since everyone in your grade (and others) treats you as if you're contagious.

But it's junior year, and your best friend begged you to join her as her ride or die since she wasn't super comfortable with her new group of friends yet.

You threw caution to the wind and said yes.

For Oli. Olivia Hazelwood. The awkward daughter of Split River's old-money elite couple, Henry and Marion Hazelwood. You and Oli were awkward together. Outsiders who found a home in each other. You shared everything with her and thought she did the same, but now you question how true that was.

Because, along with her new friends—who she insisted were your new friends, too—she'd locked you in the secret fallout shelter in the school basement.

Cruelty packaged as a practical joke.

You heard Travis cackle to the others before calling through the door, "Get comfortable, it'll be a while 'til the janitor comes to get you!"

It's fucking Friday. You don't know Mr. South's schedule—hell, you don't know if he even knows about the fallout shelter—but you assume he won't be back until Monday like the rest of the staff.

Someone will do a walk-through, you tell yourself, gasping for air as you pace around the space. It's dark, the only light coming from the weird dashboard on the clunky equipment lining one wall.

How Travis and the others found out about the fallout shelter isn't a mystery. You told them, stupidly, when you were trying to bond with Elitzia and Marybelle. Split River trivia you'd collected through hyperfixation research. Hours spent diving down rabbit holes after binging Fallout with Oli over a weekend.

Nuclear winter. Chernobyl. Bunkers. The Cold War.

God, why'd you say anything? Should've kept your mouth shut. Should've known that Travis and his friends weren't actually trying to buddy up, because you're still the school pariah.

After all, you gave Jake Tremblay crabs after you rejected him in 9th. You were a homewrecker and forced yourself on Matt Wilson when his girlfriend caught him shoving his unwanted hand up your skirt. You told Claire Zomer last year that you liked to wear diapers and be bottle-fed like a baby as a result of neglectful parents after you refused to do her English homework.

The mill churned out rumor after rumor, and though you tried to fight it at first, it became too much. Like squashing an ant hill. You stopped, people lost interest when you didn't react, but those rumors still circulate.

Sometimes, new ones join the rotation depending on who you piss off just trying to make it to the last bell.

Oli was the only person who stood by you until Elitzia extended her friendship.

Now you're alone. Stuck in the creepy fallout shelter in the dark. Suffocating on shadows as you double back to the door and start banging your palms against it again. Oli knows you're claustrophobic. She was there when you trusted Sarah Thompson in 5th Grade and climbed into her toy chest.

What is so other about you that makes people hate you so much?

You gulp in harsh breaths, sobbing out exhales, losing energy quickly as you smack and bang the door. You can't hear the music, but you know it's still loud, the dance in full swing two floors above.

"Please," You cough, shaking, "Please, let me out..."

‗•‗

Wally sighs. Tonight's been one giant letdown. He doesn't know why he got his hopes up, especially since it's been obvious from the get-go that Maddie isn't ready for the things Wally wants to try with her. Romance. Dates. Hand-holding and affection and inside jokes.

He understands. Of course he does. Maddie's new-dead. She was murdered. She and her best (and very alive) friend are trying to solve the case, to help her remember so she can find closure or whatever.

Why would she want to take a break from that and hang out at a dumb dance with Wally? Who's been trapped in limbo for the last forty years; same four walls, same seven faces to interact with. Same. Same. Same. Same. Fuck.

It's fine. It's totally fine.

As he lies on the grass, staring up at the stars, the quiet outside giving him space to sulk, he hears it. Bang. Help! Bang bang bang. Please!

It's faint, no louder than a breeze, but consistent. Wally gets to his feet and tries to follow the sound. Back into the school, down the steps, along the first-floor hallway to the basement door. It muffles for a moment when he goes the wrong way, toward the janitor's office, so he backtracks and hurries deeper into the bowels of the school.

Despite having the run of the place, no holds barred, he hasn't been this way before. Never saw a reason to go to the boiler room, not even after Maddie took a seat at the Afterlife Support Group.

The sound loudens, banging and muted pleading, someone clearly in distress. Wally slows his steps as he nears a door he's never seen before. It's old, white paint peeling, made of metal. It shakes when whoever's behind it starts slamming their fists again. Renewed vigor, higher-pitched agony, "Please!! Anyone!!?"

Wally scans the outside of the door for a latch or handle and notices the deadbolts attached to the top and bottom of the doorframe. Quickly, he undoes them and yanks the door open, stumbling back when a figure slumps out.

Small. Trembling. A girl whose makeup is stained with tearstreaks and whose eyes are bloodshot, her skin pale from fright. She's breathing heavy, sniffling, rubbing the back of her wrist under her nose as she gradually calms.

"Uh..."

And that's as much as Wally gets out before she's on her feet, arms around her middle, shoulders up. She takes one look at Wally, mumbles a wet thanks, and then charges through the boiler room, down the corridor, and out of the basement.

Wally's stunned. Because he knows for a fact that that girl is alive.

Not only did she look right at Wally, she spoke to him. Like, to his face. Eyeballs met eyeballs. For the first time in a long time, Wally was part of the living world again.

"No freaken way..."

‗•‗

You keep your head down as you walk toward your locker. Headphones on, blaring angry music to quell the crash and surge of emotion inside you. You're embarrassed, humiliated, hateful. Rightfully so, you think, because the last person in the world you trusted betrayed you in the worst way you can imagine.

Oli tried to apologize over the weekend. A novel of a text that repeated several times how sorry she is about what happened. How she didn't know that was the plan. I swear, I thought they were just going to close the door for a minute.

So why didn't you come back?

She never answered. Either ashamed of her non-actions or annoyed that you won't forgive her as easily as you used to, you don't care.

The guy who saved you—tall, handsome, dressed like a silverscreen leading man—looked just like someone that group kept in the middle of their circle-jerk. Which was why you didn't stick around to thank him properly. He was probably just a little less bad; has what amounts to a conscience for those assholes, and decided to cut the joke short out of guilt.

Definitely a senior, you figured, since you didn't recognize him from your class.

Makes things easier. You intend to steer clear of him just like you will the others. You've got enough on your plate, the newest rumor sticky-tacked to your locker when you finally arrive.

Crybaby got herself locked in a room and couldn't get out! Accentuated with photoshopped baby bottles and crying emojis.

It's stupid. Juvenile. But it burns. You tear the paper off your locker, crumple it up, and march to the trash to shove it through the lid. Even through your music, you can hear the chorus of laughter. Some of it nervous, as if going along with it to avoid the same attention Travis and his cronies give you. Some of it hearty and genuine.

You swallow your discomfort and go back to your locker, wrench the lock open, and almost violently swing the door right into someone's face. Thankfully, that someone catches it before it does any damage.

"Whoa there, Helen Sharp, I'm not here to steal your man." The guy chuckles, giving you what you assume is his most charming smile.

It rubs you the wrong way. You glare back, ignoring the comment as you begin to rifle through your things, exchanging last night's homework for the textbook and notes you need for first period. He clears his throat, keeps standing there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and watching you.

"So, you can't hear me," He mutters, and, weirdly, it doesn't sound like a snide question. Rather, his voice is heavily laced with disappointment.

You stop and straighten, staring right at him when you cock your head and say, "I can hear you just fine." Then, "You come to make me thank you again?" Just like Mike Bower earlier this semester, who pinned you to the vending machine after the cafeteria emptied, demanding you show him your gratitude for lending you a pencil during the History test.

The guy swallows and shakes his head, eyes wide and mouth agape. As if you speaking to him is the most astonishing thing that's ever happened to him.

Your glare intensifies.

‗•‗

Wally can't believe it. You can see him. You're talking to him.

Kind of.

You're mostly scowling at him, but that doesn't matter. He'll take what he can get. He knows you're likely still upset about Friday, how you got locked in the fallout shelter somehow. Which, the fallout shelter was a whole discovery on its own that helped unlock some of Maddie's memories over the weekend, so if anyone should be grateful, really, it's Wally.

"N-no," He stutters.

His shock swiftly melts into excitement, big grin sweeping his face, and he giddily follows you toward your first class after you slam your locker closed and start walking.

"So...are you okay? You didn't look so good, last time I saw you."

You heave a sigh, "I'm fine." And it sounds an awful lot like something you've been repeating to yourself until you believe it. Clearly, it isn't working.

"Right. Yeah. Of course you are." Wally nods sagely. "...What's your name?"

You come to an abrupt halt in the hallway and turn to face him, brows furrowed, giving him a slow once-over that makes his heart skip a beat. Now that he can see your face better, he swallows thickly. Jesus, you're beautiful. Even scowly and off-put. Pretty as a peace lily.

"Why?" You ask, and, wow, okay, has no one ever asked you for your name before?

Wally hesitates, not quite understanding why you're being so hostile until he hears it. A couple of students behind him, snickering to each other, commenting on how, the fucking weirdo's lost her mind. She's so fucked up.

Spinning on his heel, Wally faces the students, ready to put them in their place before he remembers that they can't see him...can they? No. They can't. They look right through him at you, snorting and shaking their heads in pity like you're some kind of headcase.

When he turns around again, you're gone.

‗•‗

It takes Wally a few days before he finds you again. Outside, sitting in a patch of sun, eating your bagged lunch alone as you lean against the side of the school. Without preamble, he plops down beside you.

He spent his time doing a little research. Between helping Maddie and Simon investigate, obviously, he's a good person who has his priorities straight. Still, you were always on his mind. The gorgeous living girl who can see him.

You ignore him, bite into your PB&J, and stare into the middle distance as if Wally doesn't exist. That's fine. He understands now. And, holy shit, the things he'd do if he had a body to do them in. He'd fuck every last one of your tormentors up. Break egos before breaking bones. Guy, girl, he doesn't discriminate; he hates what he's heard.

Can't be sure none of it is real, but from the way you shrink when he keeps his attention on you, he doesn't think any of it is.

"You okay?" He ventures again, voice low and kind.

You shrug. No snarky comment, no anger. Just...resignation.

"I, uh, heard what they say about you..."

You snort, "Great. You come to give me words of wisdom, oh wise one? It's just high school, it won't matter when you get out of here," You mock, clearly some bullshit you've been spoon fed before.

Wally shakes his head, "Nah. Nothing like that." He gives you a smile. Cheeky, "High school's all there is. It really does shape your whole life."

You choke on your next bite and then give him a look of horror. When you catch his impish smirk, your eyes narrow.

"You're an asshole."

"You're kind of a grump." Wally shoots back good-naturedly.

"I think I've earned it."

Wally's smile falters slightly, but he makes an effort to remain upbeat. Softly, sincerely, he says, "I'm sorry you have to go through all that."

"It is what it is." You respond, equally as soft, gaze on the ground.

You and Wally sit in silence for a moment. It doesn't feel awkward or tense the way Wally expected it to. Instead, it's peaceful. A welcome change from the mounting drama he's experiencing on Split River High's metaphysical side.

Eventually, you seem to relax. You and he exchange names. He doesn't give you his last name, not quite ready for that conversation, though he's sure you'll figure it out sooner rather than later. His letterman is a dead give away (no pun intended).

"Do you...have any friends?" He asks bluntly after talking around the point for a few minutes.

Tensing, you stop chewing the last bite of your sandwich, gaze distant as your face slackens in what Wally can only describe as hurt.

"I did. But then she helped her new friends lock me in a fallout shelter even though she knows I'm claustrophobic."

"Fuck..." Wally exhales sharply, "I'm sorry."

"You say that a lot," You accuse, slanting him another suspicious look. "Why are you sorry? Did you know that was the plan? Are you friends with Travis and Marybell and Elitzia?"

Wally tries to keep up with your questions. You must've been thinking those things based on how rapidly you asked them, and it takes Wally aback.

"No," He replies, "I don't know any of those people."

You relax again once you've stared into Wally's fucking skull to see if he's lying. Apparently, you can do that since you give a small nod and settle back against the wall.

"Thank you," You say after another minute of silence. "Really. For...getting me out of there."

"Yeah, of course," Wally says. "I might look like an asshole, but I'm not actually one."

You peek at him, a tiny smile forming on your lips that makes Wally's heart soar, "I'm starting to get that."

‗•‗

Your unconventional friendship with Wally grows from there.

When Wally isn't busy saving the day with Maddie and Charley and Rhonda, he spends his time haunting you. His own little joke, because it appears you haven't figured out how dead he is, and as more days pass, he's more reluctant to reveal that spooky truth.

In the span of weeks, you blossom like a flower for him. He learns how giggly you are when you aren't shielding yourself from the disgusting things your classmates sling at you. It's not often, but it's often enough that Wally never sees you as anything but reserved and quiet when you're between classes.

At this point, he's heard the slew of rumors about you. Gross and inflated, a game of broken telephone that chips away at you a little more every day.

Except when you're with Wally. It's as if his presence is helping you heal, and he can't keep the warm, fuzzy feelings from growing in his chest. Bigger and bigger with every encounter.

You've taken to studying in the library until the very last second you're allowed to stay. Tucked in the back, muffling laughter when Wally tells you about things that happened to him when he was alive. He omits details that might give away the era, but shares everything he can.

God, he loves the sound of your laughter. How your eyes sparkle when you're happy. How your cheeks flush when he sneaks in something flirtatious. How you bite your lip after you say something suggestive in return.

You're not exactly tactile, probably scarred from things that've happened in your past, things that've been said to you, or things that've been done to you. (Wally wants to punch everyone, teachers included.) It makes it easier to hide his deadness. However, it's getting to a point where Wally has a hard time remembering not to reach out and fail at tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear when you stare up at him with those sweet, joyful eyes.

There's always, at the very least, an inch of space between you and Wally. An inch he so desperately wishes he could eradicate. Either way, he can't break that barrier, the energy emitted from a living body preventing him from touching you, even if you did finally welcome it.

You bring him homemade cookies the day you reveal that your parents are rarely around. Break his heart, then heal it with chocolate chip, his favorite. He has to wait for you to turn away before he picks one up, so you don't see how the cookie never actually leaves the container.

When he bites into it, he moans, filthy, sexual, not even exaggerated because, "God damn girl, these are delicious."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Wally takes another bite, moans again, eyes closed as he savors the taste, "Best I've ever had."

You blush, duck your head shyly, "Thanks, Wally." And, fuck, he wants to kiss you. All over your face. Cheeks, nose, forehead. Lips. Deep and slow as he cups your jaw, angles your head just right, pulls you into his lap and—

"Earth to Wally," Your voice breaks through the mist, "You still in there?" Then, to yourself, "What the hell did I put in these?"

Wally blinks himself back to the present, "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"I asked you if you wanted to try the oatmeal-peanut butter ones."

Very seriously, "Yes. And everything else you've made ever, if you don't mind."

He wants to offer to make you banana pancakes or a burrito or anything to show off his skills in the kitchen, but he isn't sure how the food he makes would translate in the living world. His stomach clenches, eyes sad, as he begins to think about all the things he can't do with you. All the things you don't know he can't do with you because he doesn't want to lose you when you learn the truth.

Maddie didn't lose Simon, a part of him thinks, but while that's true, Maddie and Simon are best friends. Have been best friends since fuck knows when. Simon was willing to throw himself behind Maddie being a ghost because of how close they are.

Wally isn't certain you'd react the same way.

‗•‗

Things between you and Wally are...amazing? No, that's too simple a word to describe how his friendship has basically turned your whole high school experience on its head.

He's quickly become the best part of your day. He makes you laugh, helps you with homework when he isn't distracting you from it. He's sweet and compassionate and thoughtful. He remembers everything you tell him, even the mundane, silly shit.

You've never experienced that before. Not even with Oli, who had a knack of steering every conversation back to herself. It wasn't in a rude or self-righteous way, honestly, it stemmed more from insecurity and external processing.

But, yeah, it got old sometimes, especially when you just needed someone to hear you. See you. Know you.

Things with Wally are so incredible that you're even able to ignore the newest rumor about you making the rounds. How you're crazy, talking to yourself like schizo, you need meds, why do they let her near us? Dude, she could be dangerous.

None of it matters anymore. Oli's been fully indoctrinated by her new friends, ignores or avoids you, unable to look you in the eye anymore since dying her hair to look like Chloe's and dressing herself like Kirsten.

Wally has your back. Comforts you with humor or listens when you need to vent. Mostly, it's just bliss. And it's alarming because you've never felt so close to someone like this. You've exposed yourself to him in ways you never let yourself before. Not with Oli, not with your parents, not with anyone.

But he draws it out of you, bit by bit, your personality slowly reestablishing itself after years of being smothered behind the walls you had to build to protect yourself.

He's safe.

And he's hot like burning. Like putting your hand over a lit element.

Another new feeling unlocked; you want to feel his hands on you, even for a moment. Want to feel his lips on yours. Want all of him so wholly and greedily it makes your head spin.

Yes. Everything with Wally is perfect.

Until, one day, he simply...disappears.

‗•‗

It's not Wally's fault. He doesn't mean to do it. He wouldn't have, he promises. Especially not to you. But, Wally has his turn getting stuck in the fallout shelter; Mr. Martin unmasks himself as a bad guy; and Maddie's body is alive out there being used by Janet.

Things go from moderately unhinged to fucking hectic overnight.

He stays away only to help Maddie. Finds out, shit, Yuri Vyarheychyk isn't actually a looper. Discovers a lot of things he never wanted to discover. Wally's lost and despondent, and can't seem to get his head above water long enough to seek you out and apologize for abandoning you for two weeks.

He's relieved when he finally catches sight of you again, a smile on his face as he watches you help put the gym together for his high school reunion.

Just as he's about to approach, he notices you go eerily still, staring at something he can't see from this angle. He steps a little closer, cautious, heart in his throat when he finally gets a glimpse.

"Oh, no."

‗•‗

You were roped into helping set up the space for the class of '84 reunion. You'd reacted vehemently when Travis made a joke at your expense during Math and Mr. Davis immediately issued you detention.

This is how you earn back his respect. Carrying stacks of chairs and fussing over an easel that's to support a picture of that guy the stadium is named after. You're feeling bitter, neglected, alone all over again since Wally hasn't surfaced, and the rumors are starting to pick at vulnerable flesh.

Then, Ms. Monroe clucks at you, hands you the blown-up photo to fit onto the easel. You don't notice at first, and then the shock swoops in and leaves you breathless. Gaping wide-eyed at the face staring back at you.

Wally's smile is exactly how it looks when you say something he calls 'cute'. Charming. Cheerful.

The world fades away, time stands still, and you almost buckle under the realization that you made up a whole person to keep you company. You really are fucking crazy, just like everyone said.

"Hey..." You hear Wally's voice, but it can't be real, pulled from some broken part of your brain that shattered after the fallout shelter.

Slowly, you pan to your right, Wally towering over you, as solid as he was the last time you saw him. You glance back at the photo, then to Wally, rinse, repeat until you have whiplash. A tiny, wrecked sound escapes you and your body shivers, the weight of what this means bubbling inside you like acid.

"Hey, no, it's okay," The figment of Wally Clark, class of '84, dead dead dead, tries to reassure you. "You're not crazy, babe, I'm right here. You can see me."

His words do nothing to calm you down. You need help. Professional help, hard meds, a straitjacket, and a padded room.

Another trembling whimper and you wheeze, "They were right... I'm... I'm insane."

"No!" Wally insists, stumbling after you as you force your feet to move and head for the door.

Ms. Monroe calls out, but you ignore her, not bothering to think up an excuse as you leave.

"Leave me alone," You beg the figment of Wally, covering your ears with your hands to block out his voice as he urges you to believe him, that he's real, he's a ghost, he's been here for forty years, babe, please, stop!

You don't stop. You start running. Out the door, into the parking lot, off school grounds. You run until you get home, where you lock yourself in—parents still in Dubai for one of your dad's conferences, the house empty and cold.

Sliding to the ground, back against the door, you tuck your knees to your chest and cry.

Alone. Again. Always.

‗•‗

Wally's heartbroken after you leave. Never had he ever thought you'd become that important to him until you made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. Because you think he's a figment of your imagination. Some trauma response.

He tries twice to convince you he's real, but it doesn't work. You shrink further into yourself, pale and placid, not even challenging the remarks made behind your back like you'd started doing again.

Unfortunately, shit hits the fan and Wally can't make time, plowing through scars, saving Maddie from herself, encouraging her to run back into her body.

All throughout, he longs for you. Wishes he'd been upfront from the beginning. He'd just wanted to be selfish for a while. To keep you. His own little secret, beautiful and bold, his to indulge in and cherish and...love.

Fuck.

Now, he stands in front of a door, a thick, bright light burning on the other side of it as he holds his key. He stares at the door, feels the warmth beckoning him. There's nothing left for him here. He's done his time, languished within the school for too many years.

Wally takes a step forward.

‗•‗

Without Wally's presence to ground you, you start to unravel. Piece by piece, whittled away to nothing but anger and fear. Right now it's predominantly fear, in large extent due to the empty halls and lack of teachers. There's a commotion outside that drew everyone with any authority out there.

It's well past the last bell, and Travis was leaving the locker rooms when you were headed to the theater to grab a notebook you forgot on one of the seats during Drama. Apparently, despite being fucked in the head, you've been a lot more appealing lately.

"You got a great smile when you aren't being a bitch," Travis leers, crowding you against a wall.

He's big. Huge. Built like a brick shithouse even at seventeen. He's got more muscle on him than you could ever hope for, and the strength of the linebacker he is behind him.

"Get away from me," You demand through clenched teeth, hands shoving uselessly at his chest. He doesn't budge an inch.

"Nah, don't think so, freak." He smirks, massive hand around your throat. Not too tight, just enough to hold you there with the promise of pain if you try to struggle.

That's when you start screaming.

‗•‗

Wally's head shoots up, and he drops the football, takes several long strides toward the exit door. The sound gets louder, clearer, as he nears. It's coming from behind the door. And it's familiar. He knows that scream, heard it weeks ago. The night he rescued you from the fallout shelter.

Without a second thought, Wally kicks the exit door open and barrels through, tripping when gravity hits him for the first time in decades. He gulps in a gasp of air, the taste sharp and bleachy, filling his lungs. Chest expanding, bones and blood and flesh heavy in a way he doesn't remember his living body being.

"Help!" You scream again, the tail-end of the word muffled by the hand of who Wally recognizes as one of your antagonizers.

Travis has you on the floor, his knees on either side of your waist as he grapples to control your arms. Wally fights against gravity, skids forward and then, Stop! Stop it! he charges. Tackles Travis' weight off of you and to the ground.

His knuckles burn as he punches Travis' face in, his lungs burn as he sucks in more air than is probably necessary, his body no longer familiar with the function but quickly getting with the program.

Wally falls back when he's sure Travis isn't getting up. Alive. The guy's alive. Just wrecked and bloodied, groaning as he rolls onto his side and clutches his jaw.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Wally pants, wiping the sweat from his upper lip.

"W-Wally?"

Your voice is so small, so uncertain, and it gets Wally's attention immediately. He's with you in a flash, hands on your face, holy fuck, he can touch you, and you're so warm, so solid, skin so soft, he doesn't know what sensation to focus on first.

"Y-you're real." You murmur, as shocked as Wally is. "You're..." You lift your hand and place it over his, the touch smarting the cuts he opened on Travis' nose.

"I was always real, baby." He says, chest still rising and falling rapidly, God, he can't take his hands off you.

It happens in the blink of an eye. He can't tell who moves first, who initiates, only that it's pure fucking bliss when he feels your lips against his for the first time. Soft and pillowy and yielding. You taste like Sprite and those chewy watermelons you like to snack on during study sessions.

Wally moans into the kiss, can't help himself, pulls you into him as much as he can just to revel in the feeling of your body against his. Your real, living body against his.

A groan behind you and him reminds Wally that Travis is still there, will likely be found soon, and whoever does the finding will have questions Wally can't answer right now. Possibly not ever.

"Come on, baby, we've gotta go," He says, intending to hide you somewhere else in the school so you and he can talk.

You apparently have other ideas, because you drag him behind you all the way to the bus stop. He tries to tell you, tries to get you to stop before—

"I can't leave school property!" He shouts.

You slow, letting go of his hand to walk a few steps backwards, eyebrow lifting as you stare at his feet.

"But...you are off school property."

When Wally looks down, his jaw drops. He scrambles in a half-circle to measure the distance between himself and the curb. Thoughts flood his brain: He has to tell Rhonda, to tell Charley and Yuri and Quinn. He has to find his friends and tell them about his...what? His aliveness? Is he alive?

"Come on," You urge, grabbing him by the hand again and hauling him away from the school. "We can't be here right now."

You're right, he knows that, but, holy shit! He's off school property. He's breathing oxygen. His heart is pumping, his muscles ache from the exertion of beating Travis to a pulp, his tongue feels too big for his mouth, and his eyes sting from lack of blinking.

Whatever Wally is, he's not a ghost anymore.

‗•‗

You take him back to your place. You don't exactly know where else to stash a forty-year-old ghost, which Wally insists he is and is basically proof of that himself. You looked him up after the reunion. When you weren't so overwhelmed, that is.

Number 57, Walter Clark, beloved son and friend. If he is a fake, the likeness is uncanny.

As soon as you and he are through the door, he surges, lifts you into his arms, laughing, unable to believe the changes he's already taken stock of. He twirls you around, holds you like something precious, and gazes at you with sweet, soulful eyes.

"I can touch you," He murmurs, as if that's the most important development. "I can actually feel you. God, baby, I can't stop smiling. And it hurts!" The last part makes you giggle because he says it with so much joy, it tickles the giddiness right out of you.

You sober, soften like butter in his arms as he holds you. "You can...touch me some more, if you want..."

There it is, the bravest thing you've ever done. Hanging in the air between you and Wally as he viscerally registers your offer.

When he finally gets it, his smile turns into a smirk. A cocky thing that makes your belly warm.

"Yeah?" He glances around, sees the couch, then looks back at you.

Wally carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing, easy, muscles bunching and releasing as he sits down and settles you in his lap. His hands roam under your shirt, his hot touch like a brand wherever he holds you, and, slowly, giving you time to reconsider, he leans in and captures your lips in a gentle, sweet kiss.

‗•‗

Wally doesn't have the capacity to process anything outside of this moment, outside of you, right now. He should probably take a minute to figure out what happened to him when he fell through the exit door, should strategize a game plan for his friends to follow, should do a lot of things, but he can't find it in him to stop.

Your weight in his lap is so much more intense now that he can feel it in a real, human body. Your little whimpers and soft mewls as his hands wander under your shirt—fuck, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingers, it's like a dream he never thought would come true.

He undresses you slowly, worshipping every piece of skin revealed with his mouth and hands. Little nips and flicks of tongue, tasting your skin, hearing your sounds, absorbing your warmth as you squirm against him.

"You like how I touch you, baby?" He asks, gazing up at you through his lashes as he gently, so gently, trails his fingertips down your side and to your ass where he grabs. "I wanna make you feel good." He grinds his hips up, cock harder than he's ever felt it, groaning when the friction sends shockwaves of pleasure through him. "You feel that, baby? You feel what you do to me?"

"Wally," You gasp, your head tipping back and eyes closing, savoring the sensation.

You help him out of his jacket, his shirt; grip his chain to draw him into another hot, hungry kiss that leaves him reeling and desperate for more. His fingers dig into your flesh as he bucks against you, can feel the heat of your pussy through his sweatpants and shorts.

Gone in seconds because he can't wait anymore. Has waited enough time to feel anything again, but this, with you, no. God help him, he doesn't have that kind of patience or resolve. He's not strong enough. Not with how you tremble in his arms when he smears two fingers through your folds, dips them in to tease you as he watches the expression of euphoria that twists your features into the most beautiful image he's ever seen.

"You're so wet for me, baby," He purrs, nipping that sensitive spot right below your ear. Fuck, you start to ride his fingers, greedy little thing, the slick squelch of your pussy fucking his index and middle finger echoing in his ears and fogging his brain.

"Wally, please," You beg so pretty, and that's it. Control gone.

He lines himself up and guides you down, Jesus, you take him so perfectly. Stuffed full, tight as a vise, gripping him inside you as he leads you up and down, up and down, getting him as deep as he can be inside you.

"That's it, baby, just like that. So good for me," He pants, feet planted, hips meeting yours, his hands tight on your ass as you move on him. A fucking goddess crafted by heaven just for him. "Fuck," He chokes, "Fuck, yeah," and bites your lower lip, soothes the sting with his tongue before delving it into your mouth.

It feels too quick, but he can't avoid it. It's been so long since anything felt like this. You're not any better, quivering under his hands, thighs spasming when he starts to fuck into you faster, harder, making you bounce on his cock to take what you need.

When you come, he cries out, eyes clenched shut, mouth open, stars exploding. His climax ripped from deep within his core. His cock pulses as he spills inside you, arms fastened around your body to pin you to his chest, kissing you with everything he has.

"God, baby, I love you," Maybe it's too soon to say it (definitely), but who the fuck cares? Give a no-longer-dead-guy a break. He doesn't know how long his earthliness will last. He can't afford to take chances.

And he hiccups an awed breath when you say, "I love you, too, Wally Clark."

You gaze at him in the afterglow, so soft and pliant and perfect he could burst. You and he stay on the couch for a while, basking in each other's presence, in the realness of it. Eventually, taking his hand, you lead him to your room, where he writes poems with his tongue in your pussy, where you spread yourself open and invite him in again and again and again until sunrise.

You give him the weekend.

He knows he has a responsibility to visit Maddie in the hospital and make sure she's where she should be. Must inform Rhonda and Charley and Yuri and Quinn and Janet (can he still see them?!) that he's somehow regained a pulse.

But that can wait until tomorrow.

It's Sunday night, and Wally has every intention of proving to you that you're not alone anymore. That you have him as long as you want to keep him. And that he'll stay, even if you don't.

"Not gonna happen, Wally, you're stuck with me," You tell him in no uncertain terms, snuggled into his chest.

Wally smiles so wide, his cheeks ache for days after.

🐦‍🔥___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

if you liked this, you may also enjoy Best Friends Club.

smut. you've been Wally's best friend since elementary school. and he's had a thing for you the entire time. it would've stayed a secret if, after a shitty date with someone who wasn't him, things changed.

[auroreliis]

Hey there, I hope I'm not spamming your blog too much

Also long ask ahead I'm sorry

I would actually enjoy the idea of Batfam with a reader who tried to impress them/ bond with them trough their hobbies

Normally it's only done in neglect fics(no hate to those I love them) and id love to see the reaction in a more fluffy scenwrio

Dick? Reader shows up to every single a acrobatics completion he takes and cheer for him the loudest , and one day come up to dick and show him they won first place in an acrobatics competitons turns out reader has been practicing in secret to impress dick

Jason? Reader constantly exchanges books with recommendations with him, and pays full attention when they rant about how good/bad a book is, one day reader shily approaches him and offers him a book they wrote and published themselves

Cass?(Warning I know nothing about ballet) Reader always tries to get her tickets to shows she's interested in, and even gets her meet and greets/autograph with her favorite dancers, one day reader offer her a single ticket for a new shows , with the excuse that they could only get that, and turns out that reader is actually the main dancer in the show

And obviously with Damian reader is often with him when he paint, and if damian feels like talking, they ask him about what methods he's using and what "vision" he has for his painting, eventually reader ask him to judge their paintings.

(im skipping Steph and Tim, because

The ask is getting too long and because with Tim, his hobby is genuinely investigating mysteries, so that'd s bit complicated since it's mostly vigilante related work,and I don't remember if Steph has a Really specific hobbie that reader can try, she's would just be happy to spend time with them)

Hey! No worries about spamming :)

If you're trying hard to get along with them, then they get very excited and that leads to fluffy scenarios!

Dick would love to do acrobatics with you and he would make for a great mentor. Usually, Dick is known for being annoying, but this is only when you don't engage enough with him. However, when you do engage with him, he becomes a regular, affectionate older brother.

After you finish your daily acrobatic training, he usually carries you to your room and brings you whatever you want. Water? Of course, right away! Food? Alfred's already making it! You want him to put a film on? Yes, hopefully you don't mind him watching it too :)

Jason adores the fact that you like his recommendations when it comes to books. It's not that nobody else in the manor thinks his suggestions are good, it's just that he most values your opinion.

His favourite moments are when you and him are sitting in the library during the evening, drinking hot chocolate and reading books. Neither of you are talking, but the silence is comfortable. Sometimes, he stop reading to look over at you, but you don't notice, because you're so immersed in the story. He probably looks for more books to recommend to you, intending to sit in the library in silence again.

Tim has many hobbies and many hobbies that you are unable to take part in. However, Tim makes it quite easy to spend time with him. For example, watching films with him is something he suggests often. Somehow, Tim always know what you want to do without needing to hear you say it, so if a new show came out, he immediately runs to you and asks if you want to binge it with him.

Watching shows isn't the only thing you two do, though. Tim also enjoys talking to you about anything. You have a new hyperfixation? Tim is the FIRST person you have to tell, because he probably also has the same hyperfixation lol. Somehow, the two of you resonate on every possible level and that makes any mundane activity entertaining if both of you are present.

Stephanie didn't know what to say when you asked her to play the piano for you, but she couldn't just refuse, so she played for you. You can imagine her delight when you asked her to teach you how to play. It takes a while to learn to play the piano, but that just means she gets to spend more time with you :)

Cassandra is delighted to hear that you like ballet as much as she does. She would practice ballet with you and plan choreographies to challenge you a bit. Whenever a show worth watching came up, she would be the first to buy tickets for the two of you.

Much like with Jason, Cassandra is also comfortable with sitting in silence. She doesn't need to have a conversation with you to feel seen by you, just being in the same room is enough for her.

Painting with Damian has become a regular afternoon activity for you, though by "painting with", I mean "getting painted by", because as much as Damian believes in your ability to make great paintings, he sees something in you that makes you the perfect muse. Whenever he paints you, his paintings end up being brighter, they make his other paintings look bleak in comparison.

He finds himself adding some of your charm to other paintings. Whenever he paints a landscape, it looks empty without your favourite flowers in the field. If he paints a room in the manor, he adds some of your objects, perhaps your sweater is hanging over a chair in the corner, or your headphones are on the table in the living room. Now he is unsatisfied with every painting that doesn't have a hint of your presence in it.

[yawnderu]

honestly i would die for bimbo!reader to have some sort of Legally Blonde level of intelligence but for the stupidest, most useless shit. no, she can't remember which knob turns on which burner for the stove, but she can tell you the effects of different chemical compounds found in all her favorite skincare products and now they react to an individuals derma-layer. simon once caught her watching a screensaver on TV for 30 min because she thought it was "a reeeeally slow nature documentary /:", but she's fluent in Korean because she got super into Korean make up brands from her favorite influencers and wanted to be able to read the product ingredients/reviews/tutorials, it just never gets brought up otherwise and when someone asks in disbelief she's all "what, like it's hard?"

and simon is just sooooo so so proud of his smart pretty girl. who cares that she thought soap's parents legally named him after a dishwashing product. can mactavish tell him how to tell dupes from authentic handbags based on the inner stitching that can only be done on machines specially made by Italian companies? no? then shut the fuck up. tell us more about glitter lipgloss, beautiful.

Absolutely!! She may be dim-witted when it comes to certain things, but she's not exactly dumb at all. This girl could recite the laws of astrophysics and solve complex mathematical problems while being piss drunk.

Simon is still amazed by how complex his sweet girl is— he knows she isn't stupid, yet it never fails to surprise him how you start speaking to MacTavish in fluent Scottish Gaelic, only offering the explanation that you learnt it because a character on your favorite movie spoke it once, looking at him like he grew a second head when he sheepishly told you most scottish people don't speak Gaelic anymore.

Sure, you may have thought movies were real and used to avoid watching them because you thought the actors were actually getting killed and you didn't want to support that, yet a window of your house is full of math equations that gave him a headache just by looking at them.

I'd say Simon sees bimbo!reader as a box full of surprises, telling him about something new every single time you have a conversation. How did you get into studying astrophysics? You got the highest score in the university admission exam and saw a poster that was shiny and had cute stars and a pretty nebula!! How could you resist when everything about it called for you?

Mhm, the smell of gunpowder and blood that sticks to him no matter what is such an odd perfume, yet it surely has an interesting molecular makeup! Of course it does, pretty girl.

They complement each other so well because Simon has the street smarts she's lacking, and she has the book smarts Simon doesn't. She can be extremely ditzy, but who cares when she can tell him exactly which inks are recommended for his skin and which chemicals can rough up his face? He had to buy a brand-new eye black stick simply because you could tell the materials used on it by applying it on your hand with a frown.

I'd like to imagine her as someone with lots of odd interests, knowledge and hyperfixations in the dumbest things besides the universe. He has to keep up with you buying materials for making bracelets and keeping a room full of dinosaur plushies.

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[x-prettyboy-x]

Any thoughts on Erik x autistic reader? Preference for femreader, but you choose what to do

Erik with Autistic Partner Hcs

Oh I have plenty of thoughts, I won't write a full one shot for this, so sorry but I will give my thoughts:) I adore this request

Masterlist

•Erik Campbell who makes sure your favorite food is always stocked, because he knows you'll say you're hungry then not want anything in the fridge because you only want that one meal you've been eating that past week.

•Erik Campbell who doesn't know what to do when you start crying when your favorite character from your current hyperfixation dies so he opens tiktok and finds edits of them immediately to distract you, making sure to avoid the sad ones at all costs

•Erik Campbell who can tell when you're overstimulated at the family get togethers, knows when everyone talking over each other is starting to get to you. He'll take you inside and sit in his room with you for as long as it takes.

•Erik Campbell who will eat the rest of your food for you when you no longer want it because that one bite didnt have the right texture and made you gag. Then he'll make you something else.

•Erik Campbell who will watch the same movie over and over because he knows youre fixated on it, will listen to you intently when you tell him all you know about how that scene was made, or how that line was improvised, or how this actor actually got hurt doing this scene. No matter how many times he's heard it before.

•Erik Campbell who will lose his shit if anyone even has the wrong body language when you're talking about your hyperfixations, because he knows you'll pick up on it, knows you'll shut down and apologize and won't talk about it again for a couple days because it made you feel annoying.

•Erik Campbell who will glare at anyone in public who looks at you wrong when you start stimming because you found merch from your fixation. And he'll buy it for you with no questions asked.

•Erik Campbell who goes all out for events like your birthday or Christmas, spending maybe a little too long looking for things from your current Fixations. Maybe he spent a little too much money on a script from your favorite movie that was signed by the cast one year on Christmas. Your reaction was worth it though.

•Erik Campbell who has a special playlist for when he's tattooing or piercing you in the shop, full of your favorite songs so you can focus on anything else. He makes sure the shop is empty, of course.

•Erik Campbell who won't question when you're non-vocal, he'll just double check you're okay mentally then put your favorite movie on, give you a snack he knows you like.

•Erik Campbell who always matches your excitement when you find a new fixation, asking you question after question to keep you going. He likes seeing you that excited, that happy.

•Erik Campbell who isn't offended when you dont wanna be touched sometimes, he didnt get it when you first started dating, but after you'd explained, it was always fine with him.

•Erik Campbell who rearranged his room so you could have a shelf in there for some of your collectibles

[whereserpentswalk]

There's a girl in your freind group who just appeared one day. Like literally. There was one day when she appeared and everybody else acted like she had always been there. Only you didn't remember that she had existed, or more accurately only you remembered that she hadn't existed the day before.

She acted normal. So very freindly. But there was something off about her. She seemed too hand crafted, her skin too pale, her hair too blond, her eyes too blue and face too pretty. She looked more like a doll then like a real person. And it was clear after asking the right probing questions that she had no hometown, no family, no ethnic group, that she just was. You were good at asking that type of question, to prove she wasn't human.

You're the only person in that freind group who knows about the supernatural. Like, you don't deal with it on a professional basis or anything, you know a few people who are more involved in it, and you've gotten the chance to see a handful of anomalies and entities and like one eldritch being. You even time traveled once. None of it was a big deal, but you thought they were cool, and it's good to know they exist. The reason it's important is because you know knowing about that stuff effects how you perceive certain things, especially when it comes to recognizing illusions and paradoxes.

You studied her for awhile. Did what you could to check her every little action, wonder if certain small things she did were what a human would do. Question her without letting on how much you know. You've studied the way she eats, the abnormalities in her dialect. The strangeness to how she got her documents. You stole a bit of hair to send to a lab and they confirmed her nonhuman. You're pretty sure from studying the way that her clothing moves on her body that she doesn't have nipples or private parts or a bellybutton, you know it's weird to speculate about that sort of thing with someone but a body like hers is different. Still, you never got full proof, never figured out what she really was, never got to show that she wasn't a real woman and expose the inhuman creature underneath.

As time went on, and you investigated her further and further you stopped being able to see her as a monster. It's clear that even if she's not human, she probably doesn't know what she is either. And more then that she seems like a nice person, all that time you spent with her trying to figure out what type of anomaly she is, you ended up actually getting to know her and she seems like a genuinely nice human being. When she told you she liked a new song and wanted to play it for you that probably was just her liking a song. When she developed a hyperfixation on birds and started being able to name local species at a glance that might have just been a legitimate interest. When she had a crush on a girl in your freind group that was actually just a crush, and not her looking to prey on someone in an alien way. You watched a TV show with her early on to try to figure her out, that might have been the first show she ever watched.

At this point you don't really think about her inhumanity when interacting with her. She's been in the group for awhile, everyone has far more real memories of her then false memories at this point. Trying to expose her for what she really is would just be mean at this point. The paradoxical nature of her existence isn't the main thing you know about her now.

You did have to come clean that you knew something was up. You didn't tell her how much you knew, or why, you just dropped the right hints and she caught on. She became so upset, so guilty, she was worried you would tell everyone else, or that you would hurt her. A few months back you would have, but not anymore. You hugged her, didn't ask any questions about what she was, and did your best to comfort her. Though her existence may have been fake, her hugs were real, those tears were real, and that was enough.

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hello there! I just came across your page and was wondering if I could get headcanons for Darth Maul and female that includes NSFW? I am trying to find as much Darth Maul content as I can cause I am currently crushing on the guy(and his actor, Ray Park)

(YES my first Maul ask! currently hyperfixating on him so you're in luck! since you didn't specify much I let the inspo flow and ended up doing a sorta first kiss scenario + some general NSFW, if you'd like me to expand on any of this or do anything different then feel free to send me another ask! enjoy :D)

(Darth Maul x fem (AFAB) reader - Maul being a little angsty but mostly fluff in the first half, NSFW labelled)

In the early stages of your relationship, before you become romantically involved, Maul spends a lot of time observing you. Just moving across a room brings the sensation of blazing eyes following your steps, and he makes little effort to hide it either.

It isn't clear whether he watches out of suspicion or curiosity. But you know he sees the shiver go through you every time you lock eyes with his intense stare.

He also doesn't speak much, which doesn't make it easier.

(Not that he'd ever admit it, to you or himself, but he prefers listening to you talk. He finds himself lost in the stories you tell and the emotion in your voice.)

He may resist your efforts to get close to him, even staying resistant to you once your relationship has been established, but he does want and need to experience genuine care. He's just not sure how to accept it.

The first time you gather your nerves and reach out to touch him, before any romantic advances had been made, he pulls away like he's been burned.

Almost all of the touch he's received before has been violent and painful. This is foreign, and he doesn't know what to do.

His expression is unreadable, and he storms away soon after, leaving you wondering if you'd overstepped and if this would finally be what tips his patience.

You don't have to wonder long though.

He enters the room that you're stood in silently enough that you only notice him when you turn around.

Maul stares down at you, his body far closer to you than you expected, and you fumble with your words when he doesn't say anything.

"HI! Uh... I'm really sorry if I overstepped earlier. It wasn't appropriate of me and I promise I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I just-"

You trail off when the Zabrak slowly takes your hand.

He's... unusually careful, for someone so frequently fuelled by anger. He's gentle, and unsure, like he thinks you'll bolt at any moment.

His eyes stay locked with yours as he slowly lifts your hand up and, seeing no sign of fear or reluctance, places your palm against his face.

The contact is barely there, Maul clearly not certain what move to make from here. It's sweet, you think, that such an imposing figure would be so timid in receiving affection.

You smile softly, pleasantly surprised as your apprehension dissolves, and gently brush your thumb over his cheekbone. His eyes close, just for a moment, and he leans into the touch ever so slightly.

"Forgive me for earlier," he murmurs. "This is... new."

"That's ok, I can be patient."

He stares at you for a moment longer, trying to see if there is any motive beyond your sweet smile, but finds nothing but fondness.

"You have entranced me, starlight."

His eyes flicker down to your lips with longing in his eyes and, not one to miss an opportunity, you lean forward and kiss him softly.

Maul is stiff at first but, just as you're about to pull away, he melts into it. His hands slide up to your waist as your arms move up around his neck, and he hums approvingly at the feeling.

He only pulls back once he feels you smile against him.

Clearly feeling defensive and a little vulnerable, he looks at you questioningly.

"Sorry, it's nothing! I just-" You look at him and gather your thoughts. "I'm just glad you don't actually hate me."

"You thought I hated you?"

"I wasn't sure... you don't exactly make it easy to tell you know!"

He chuckles when you playfully swat at his arm.

"I could never hate you, starlight."

~ NSFW below <3 ~

Maul is not used to being vulnerable, in any scenario, so in the beginning he reverts to what he is used to: control.

He is exclusively dominant the first few times you have sex because that's what he thinks he's supposed to be.

He can focus on the way your lips part, the sounds you make, the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders as you cling onto him.

It's your vulnerability, not his. It will take him time to feel comfortable enough for you to take the reins.

Soon into your relationship, you mumble a quiet plea and urge him to sit against the headboard. You straddle his lap and kiss him softly, but with so much passion that he stops breathing, and slowly sink down onto his cock.

This time it's him clinging onto you, and he swears nothing has ever felt better.

Maul is certainly a switch.

He has days where he feels such a primal need to possess you, to claim you.

It's days like this you find yourself on your knees, face pressed into the mattress while he fucks you from behind. His claws dig into your hips, making sure to leave marks, and his teeth are sunk into the soft skin of your neck.

(Invest in some high collars.)

However, when Maul feels the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, he needs you to make the decisions.

He's resistant at first, not believing he deserves it, but he needs you to praise him. He has no preference for whether you're rough or gentle, but he needs to know he's being good for you.

He's also surprisingly obedient. To him, giving himself over is a show of trust, and maker knows you've already fought hard enough to gain his.

The fastest way for Maul to enter subspace, he has found, is with his head between your legs.

Just say the word and his tongue is pressed to your clit, so eager to draw pretty moans from you.

He can get lost in his task so easily, entranced by the sound and taste of you, not even realising that he's overstimulating you until your hands tug at his horns.

Gazing up at you with dilated pupils, already floating in his headspace and seeming almost distressed that you'd pull him away, it's too easy to indulge him and let him keep going.

At the end of a session with him, you always insist on aftercare. Once again, it's something he struggles to acknowledge his need for, but the first time you clean him up with so much care, murmuring how well he did, and guide him to curl up beside you, he couldn't imagine ever turning it down.

He's also getting more used to giving you aftercare when he's been domming. It was a struggle to know what you needed from him at first, but he's better at being careful when he cleans up any scratches you might have, at praising you, and at accepting the way you wrap your arms around his waist as soon as he lays down beside you.

Like many things with Maul, it takes patience before you can see the true him, but it's worth the effort.

And when he lays in bed with you tucked into his side, smiling contentedly, he's never felt so lucky.

[numberonetrashwitch]

Some observations about Baldurs Gate 3 that hit too close to home.

After another few runs i will probably just make an in-Depth Character Analysis for every character simply because they are good reflections of actual trauma-manifestations and how abuse can manifest in people. They are also so well written that it serves a narrative purpose to explore all the material that is out there about them. I am also personally cursed with actual medically-relevant levels of Empathy and Hyperfixation; so writing this helps me put a pin in it and move on.

But so far here are my highlights

(SPOILERS and obviously content warning bc these are deep)

before you ask; i have almost 300h in this game.

You have to convince Shadowheart to eat the Noblestalk. She actually stells you she rather get her memories back from Shar but when you hit the persuasion or intimidation (what the fuck) check to get her to eat it she'll tell you about her childhood friend. Not her name, not her parents but her best firend. Possibly because she has had a closer bond to that person after being abducted and indoctrinated. With her believing herself to be an orphan, she would've looked elsewhere for comfort and sought out her own family, this is why she falls hard and heavy for Shar and builds the backbone of her indoctrination. She is literally ripped out of her home & given a new identity to server her from all she has known. Religious indoctrination, Gaslighting, Abduction, being forced to let go of your personality are her main themes.

There is a scene out there floating around in which you see Astarions pespective of the night when he bites Tav for the first time, in his meditations he is confronted with the rules Cazador put on him, including that he can't eat intelligent creatures, can't be away from Cazador unless allowed to, has to obey every command and that they are should know that they are property. Which in turn means that Astarion literally didn't just have any autonomy, he was objectified (and not just through seductive/sexual measures) and that is really the crux to understanding why he doesn't believe in kindness, but rather shows self-serving behavior in most cases. Since we know that Astarion was extremely young for an elf before he died and became immortal (literally stopping the aging /maturing process) it is also very telling that Cazador constantly calls him brat, boy or other very juvanile names, refering to them as a family... well it is also the story of a very controlling parent. Themes of (Bodily) autonomy, infantilization ( & puer aeternus, forever-child), slavery, depersonalisation, corruption of life and torture to break someone.

Gale isn't just a guy hung up on his Ex, but also a victim of abuse. In this case a power imbalance none of us can fathom; She is described as being a jealous goddess and rules over the domain of mysteries and magic. So with Gale being a Wizard, she is literally his boss. He admits that he was foolish enough to aspire to be an equal to her, but she is so jealous that she tells him he can't really be worthy as long as he takes breath. She could just take his powers away and be done with it, that would be more than enough punishment for a guy who literally made Mystra and her domain his life's purpose, but she rather makes him do it himself. Add to that, that she literally only tells him this after years of self-isolation (after he put down so many wards that he could've blown up a whole army as he says if you click the right dialogue) to really fuck him up well. He also talks about death pretty much constantly, not surprising giving your situation, but he will tell you that he will kill himself at several points in the game, for instance after he comes clear about his nethrese orb. Themes of romantic abuse, power-imbalance, toxic work enviorment, self-isolating behavior, suicidal ideation

Wyll ... well from the looks of it he is the most well adjusted of all the companions (my opinion) but he has something that i'd describe as the "eldest daughter"-syndrome, more commonly known as parentification. This pattern usually occurs within single-household parents and is commonly described as a parent looking to their child for emotional or practical support, rather than providing it to their kid. We meet Ulder and see that he talks over Wyll a lot, not listening but expecting him to follow the standard he sets for him. That is also why Wyll repeats his fathers words like gospel (because this is what, in his mind, fullfills the expectations bestowed upon him) and why he loves fairytales / bard tales so much (because they are an ecapist view of the job he set out to do) Ulder literally exiled his teenage son because Wyll did the only thing he could to save an entire city, by sacrificing himself. Thats a lot to expect from a 17 year old - even more so, he doesn't stop with the heroics. He expects himself, as a human who hasn't even reached the age of 30 to hold up to mystical creatures such as Astarion or Karlach, or even Gale who is a accomplished Wizard. Themes of parentification, escapism, self-harming through putting himself in danger, chronic-self-sacrifice

In plain words; Gortash, Karlach's Idol sold her to a Devil. But add to that that she must have been pretty young when she was sold (late teens to early twenties possibly) and being that if you play as a Tiefling, you face a lot of predjudice she was likely forced into that position as well. Starstruck she was, with a juvenile naitivy that Gortash used. Appropriately, as he is the chosen of Bane the god of "tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism" (Source: Forgotten-Realms Wiki / Bane) So she pretty much was raised in a toxic enviorment, which forced her to become a killing-machine, first figuretively, then with the extraction of her heart, literally. Themes of slavery, oppression, misuse of trust, being taken advantage by a more powerful/older(?) person, being drafted.

Jaheira - to be honest, you need to know the lore of the previous baldurs gate games or just listen to her dialouge, ask her all the questions. She is a war-veteran against Bhaal, the good of ritual murder, and has a long history of fighting to achieve some sort of balance of power. She lost her husband and several close people all to this, or any other war, but due to her wisdom and strength people look to her for guidance. Themes of: Survivors Guilt.

Halsin - he is really closed off at first but then just casually hits you with "i was captured in the underdark and spent 3 years chained to a bedroom wall by a pair of drows who used me as they pleased". He is reprimanded by some of his druids for leaving the grove as soon as opportunity struck, just to get back and leave the next day, and if you talk to him about his position in the grove he is actually very forthcomming. He actively holds himself back; indulging in simple hobbies because he knows what lies within his heart. He is afraid of himself and his potential (canonnically he can't control his wildshape, which is very weird for an ARCH-druid) Themes of: impostor syndrome, avoidant-based self-harm, sexual opression, loss of control, emotional regulation.

Lae'zel is a very tragic case, and one that closely resembles the stories of Shadowheart and Karlach. Her entire existence is based upon a matriachial war society allowing her to live if she proves she can be of use and that in a culture which only values brutality, dominance & service. All of that culimating in her finding out that her oh-so-beloved Queen is actually just an imposter, and that everything she has lived for up to that point is merely political propaganda created to make her, and the rest of her entire species, willing pawns in a war that has no longer bearing on their survival alone, but is fought to justify Vlaakith's (the reigning monarchs) personal ambitions. Not only is she forced to reconcile that she is turned into the thing that controlled her kind for hundreds of years, that the only cure she knows of would kill her and then on top of that, that her hopes and dreams were lies and that she is now the Nr 1 enemy of the person she has served with all her being. themes of: oppression, propaganda, casual violence, objectification, child-warfare, eternal warfare

Minthara in short, her story is about being shamed for growing up in the same scenario that Lae'zel grew up in. Lolth, the god of the Lolth-sworn drows is a crazy queen who values scheming & backstabbing so much and is so volatile that you can't know what to expect of your deeds (and i mean it; there were people who were appraised by her for scheming against her, but also those who were killed. It's almost random.) She considers Lolth to be cruel and abandoned her for the Absolute, only to then be used and abused the same way Lae'zel has. Not with promises, but erasing her memory and exposing her perceived weakness. Themes of: casual violence, violent culture, her own ambition colliding with her desire to be safe, being a pawn in a larger game.

[that-hazbin]

Media Demon AU

Imagine Charlie gets that tour in heaven and.. Isn't really all that impressed.

Somehow she convinces Emily to take a tour of hell, Sera and Adam agree because they want to see/spy on why their exterminations aren't as effective as before. So as Charlie and Emily have a week of exploring and partying in hell, the Heavenly Council is scrying their activities the whole time.

It isn't what they expected, between Angel Dust explaining the Safety & Consent Contracts, Alastor dragging the duo out on a multicultural day of musical hyperfixation, Vox explaining his failed attempts to make it big in entertainment, Velvette animatedly talking up the individual sectors separate cultural fashions and foods. Alastor definitely heard about Charlie's first adventure in heaven in the previous timeline and he can't resist a little oneupsmanship so Hell definitely has a petting zoo dedicated to tamed Hellscape animals. They meet Sir Pentious The Architect overseeing the reconstruction of a few devastated areas that 'that one uncouth uncultured golden pigeon Exorcist who wouldn't know good architecture from a mud hut keeps levelling' and who is undecided between rebuilding using a Russian Theme or South African theme because he's done too much Roman architecture lately and if he has to carve one more marble pillar he is going to cry.

Maybe they run into one of the other Overlord's like Camilla who offers a tour to the visiting ambassador of her own district's musical instrument repair and medical facilities dedicated to removing angelic steel contamination from demons, amongst them, child sinners still in recovery from angelic steel wounds caused on extermination day.

There is uproar in Heaven upon seeing actual children in Hell, even more so when they look up their files and learn they're in hell on a technicality.

And then they learn that Charlie Morningstar's redemption project isn't facing problems about recruiting sinners because they don't believe redemption is possible, but because the Exorcists actions have soured any belief that Heaven is any better than Hell.

Really, if the Exorcists stayed out of Hell and never returned, Hell would happily just go about it's business as if Heaven didn't exist at all.

Alastor probably isn't the only demon with Pocket Dimensions like his Bayou in terms of providing space for overpopulation issues.

While I don't think Heaven would do a tour of Hell specifically because they can just spy on them whenever they want without having to go in person, I absolutely LOVE the idea of Alastor purposely showing off how great Hell is. Alastor worked so damn hard to make Hell beautiful and worth loving, that Charlie probably WOULDN'T be as impressed with Heaven as she was in the previous timeline.

In fact, she might find Heaven a bit... ugly, actually. Heaven's all whites and pastels, everything looking entirely modern, clean to a clinical degree, kind of quiet, and it's just not very appealing to her. In fact, it's both blinding and sort of boring. Meanwhile, Charlie's used to a Hell full of jewel colors, fairy lights, street performers, murals on the side of buildings, and a whole TON of cultural diversity at every corner. Sure, Heaven has petting zoos and rainbow sprinkles, but uh... So does Hell. Does Heaven have paintball parks? Escape rooms? Laser tag? What about rage rooms, those are super popular in Hell, and they're pretty fun! Sometimes you just gotta break things to let off stress. How do people burn stress up here?

Heaven kind of leans towards anti-chaos, while the Hell that Alastor built embraces the chaos. I imagine the Heavenly Counsel or whatever they're called would be taken aback by this new version of Hell, as well as the sinner behind the change. Sinners are not just modeling the same behavior most have on Earth, they're living exponentially better lives than before.

Hell is meant to be a place of suffering, and yet it's basically become a place of rehabilitation itself, and the evidence of its effectiveness is everywhere. The fact that sinners are willingly selling their souls, expecting safety and human respect, and then getting that safety and human respect, is absolutely insane. People are actually kind to one another, work exploitation is basically non-existent in the entertainment industry, everything is bathed in artistry, from the streets, the buildings, and even the people themselves.

I think Charlie presenting her case in this timeline is going to go very differently from the previous one, because for one, she's not going to struggle with her talking points at all. Alastor had an impact on her upbringing and she knows exactly how to present her case in a way that forces her audience to listen, whether they'd like it or not.

For another, the sinner she'll choose to represent the possibility of redemption probably isn't going to be Angel Dust. It's going to be Alastor, despite the fact that he doesn't want to be in Heaven. Because in her eyes, he is by far the prime example of a redeemed sinner.

And Alastor, knowing from the previous timeline that the Heavenly Council is going to be spying on hell during Charlie's trip, is going to put on a Performance. He brings Angel along with him to the hospital, having a casual and Totally Not Planned conversation about how they can improve the soul contracts to make everybody feel safer. They pass through beautiful city streets, a park, a petting zoo, briefly stop by to talk with Pentious about his new project, the whole works. Take the scenic route to the hospital, making sure to show off just how beautiful the Pride Ring has become.

He visits the children's ward, because he's going to make this Hurt, and he and Angel distribute donated toys, blankets, and books. Makes sure to mention how "the angels killed this one's parents" to Angel, just to make DAMN SURE the exterminations are revealed. He knows he's changed things so he has to take extra measures just to be sure.

Sera is left floundering as the room devolves into Chaos, and Charlie, upon realizing the exterminations weren't public knowledge, smells blood in the water so she sinks her teeth in like a shark. Yeah, why do you think she's here? You've been killing children, and as you can SEE, Hell's doing FANTASTIC without Heaven's interference so she wouldn't even BE HERE if it weren't for the YEARLY GENOCIDE. You know, the crime that sends mortal souls down to Hell to begin with? And now you're trying to tell her redemption isn't possible BECAUSE you want to continue committing yearly genocide, is that what she's hearing?

Charlie's still a bleeding heart, but she's much more inclined to manipulation in this timeline because Alastor made sure to teach her that manipulation in itself isn't mean or evil, especially when you wield it as a weapon or shield to protect others. And she's going to manipulate the rising emotions of this room to her advantage and make them SEE her point. She's going to win this trial by a landslide.

[mysteryshoptls]

Idia Shroud Shared Lines

Tutorial: You're here... ...Can I go home now?

Level Up 1 / Buddy Level Up: I'm gainin' more EXP... Dwehehehe

Level Up 2: Leveling is crucial.

Level Up 3: Da-da-da daa dum da dah da-da! Level up～

Level Max: H-Hey, isn't my EXP gauge all maxed out already? I don't need to try any harder, right?

Vignette Level Up: There's folks out there who like running challenges using characters with ridiculous stats. ...I'm talking about you.

Spell Level Up: Ughhh, even if my magic gets stronger, it's not like it does me any good out there in the real world. Bleegh.

Friendship Level Up: Y-You’ve got some ulterior motive for being so nice to me, don’t you? Honestly, I’d feel more relaxed if you’d say that you did…

Friendship Level Max: When you first said you wanted me to come to your guest room, I thought you were being forced to on a dare or something, but… Guess I was wrong. Uh, well… I’ll come again. Yeah.

Uncapped: Is it that fun sticking to me like that? Stop it with that cheesy smile. Weirdo......

Groovification: Now we're getting somewhere. The whole cosmos awaits me! ......How cringe can I get? Yeah, no.

Lesson Select 1: I don't want class outside... I don't want class outside...

Lesson Select 2: I don't need to go to class to study... Why's it gotta be in person?

Lesson Select 3: I-It feels like people have been glancing over here for a while now. Hurry and pick something. Faster!

Lesson Start: Eep! There's too many people...

Lesson Finish: I drained about a week's worth of energy in one go.

Battle Start: I’ll finish this pronto in one turn.

Battle Won: You need to level up more～

Trouble 1: That was a dreadful experience… Hey, didn’t you take too long to jump in and stop that?

Trouble 2: This is why I hate guys who try to solve everything with force!

GIFT CALENDAR 2023: “How will you be spending the day?” Obvi, just been hyperfixating on my online games, like always… Rather, why would you think I’d go out in cold weather like this in the first place? I recently overhauled the internet speed in the dorm, so it’s crazy fast now lol. Gonna actually pull an all-nighter, it’s been a while!

Birthday Login Message 1: What? I’m a bit busy right now collecting the birthday voice line of my favorite character in this game… The only ones who congratulate me irl are my family, anyway. …Eh? You came to throw a me birthday party? Y-you? Hie… I-if there’s going to be such a high-difficulty event, why can’t you announce the news ahead of time!? I was completely off my guard so I’m utterly unprepared, you know!?

Birthday Login Message 2: I’m busy right now. If there’s something you want to say, can you just get it over with? …Oho～, so you’re here to give me my “Birthday Greetings”? Well, since you’re already here, I might as well let you celebrate me. I can’t wait to see if you can really make me happy～! I’ll try and patiently wait without any expectations.

Birthday Login Message 3: Don’t know how I feel about you celebrating my lifespan shortening by another year… Eh, guess I’ll at least say thanks. Oh yeah, how 'bout you join our gaming tournament? The others in the dorm are setting one up. Ah, but don’t you even think of trying to go easy on me just 'cause I’m the birthday boy. Doesn’t matter what the game is, there’s no way I’d lose to an amateur. So if you’re going to play with us, come with all you got.

Birthday Login Message 4: Siiiigh… As expected, I didn’t win a greeting from Premo’s birthday present campaign. Looks like, as always, I’m just a poor soul that’ll only get birthday wishes from my family and my games… EEK!? WHEN DID YOU GET HERE!? Eh, you came to wish me a happy birthday? I-Is that so…? Well, thanks. Wheehee.

Birthday Login Message 5: Hi… Need something from me? …My birthday? Oh, well, now that you mention it! Th-Thanks… I completely forgot after Ortho wished me a happy birthday this morning… Did I get anything from anyone else? Wh-Wh-Why’re you asking a loner like me that!? I p-pretty much just avoid everyone else, so. The most I did today was play with Azul-shi during our Boardgame Club time… Obviously I utterly crushed him!! …Eh, you think he went easy on me 'cause it was my birthday? Uh-huh… If you really think that, how about a game, then? Don’t come crying to me later after you lose, though, fheehee.

Requested by Anonymous.