#I play favorites with my OCs and I don’t even hide it

[urfavleo777]

joost klein x fem!oc smut

warnings: fingering, language.

The club near the beach seemed to be a favorite attraction for tourists.

After midnight, every corner was bustling with life, people were constantly smiling and exchanging long discussions at the tables. There was no room for lack of alcohol; every table was decorated with at least one bottle of wine or, in crazy cases, vodka. The music playing in the background pushed guests towards the dance floor, where they danced to the rhythm of fast songs.

“It's only our third day and we have already made this place our tradition.” My friend Lena exclaimed, accidentally spilling her glass of vodka. “Fuck! I knew everything was going too well!”

Amber and I burst into laughter as we watched our friend make sloppy movements to wash away the stinking liquid. Amber was really beautiful. She had large, almost black eyes. Quite strong makeup emphasized her delicate facial features and full lips.

We met her on the first day of our trip in the Netherlands. We bumped into each other while looking for a hotel in Noordwijk; or rather, we were saved by her. The taxi dropped me and Lena off at a remote location, both of our phones were dead, so we didn't know how to get to the hotel. The fact that it was only a few minutes after midnight didn't help at all. I remember thinking we would be stuck there forever.

Fortunately, we found Amber on a dark street where she was returning from work. She calmed us down and helped us find our way. We thanked her, she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and the next day she took us here; to a lively beachside pub. We've been coming here every night since then.

“Come on, I'll help you wash it off. It's a waste of such a pretty dress.” She said calmly, standing up and leading Lena towards the door marked with a triangle symbol. Lena's crimson lips curved into a slight smile and she looked at me, her look instantly revealing her shock and nervousness. Oh, I knew exactly how Lena felt about Amber. She told me that the day after we met, they exchanged messages. I often caught her smiling at the phone, but out of respect for them, I chose to act as if I knew nothing.

“We'll be right back, Y/n. Maybe you'll find yourself a nice gentleman who will make your evening even more pleasant!” A smirk appeared on Lena's face. I rolled my eyes, hiding my amusement.

“Have fun and don’t get lost this time!” Amber called after me and giggled.

“Maybe you'd better not come back!” I stuck my tongue out at them in a mocking way.The girls gave me the middle finger before the door finally closed.

I sighed, taking a sip of vodka, washing it down with Pepsi. I felt the vibrations on my body, despite my fatigue I felt the call of the music. There was a smell of alcohol in the air and the smell of smoke released from time to time from under the DJ console. 

After one glass of alcohol in a row, I stopped feeling tired. A dance floor full of dancing people seemed damn tempting. The thumping bass and catchy beats effectively encouraged me to devote myself to the music. 

Seconds and minutes passed and the girls didn't come back. White light flashed from the ceiling from time to time, blinding for a second. I squinted a bit and checked the time on my phone. 01:01 AM.

Suddenly I felt someone's eyes on me. This may sound funny because, hey, I was just in a crowded club, it's normal for people to look at each other. But this was different, I felt frustrated when someone was staring at me and I didn't even know who.

I looked up from my phone and then I saw him.  A few tables in front of me, a man sat alone, sipping a drink. His blond hair was messy and disheveled, and he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Something moved strangely inside me when our eyes met. He gave me a brave smirk that it sent shivers down my spine.

When he realized that I had exposed him, he took off his glasses and put them on the table. However, he was too far away for me to get a good look at his facial features. I noticed that he was holding a cigarette in the fingers of his right hand. He took a drag of it, watching me in concentration. Is smoking even allowed in clubs?

Girl, you're in the Netherlands. I reminded myself.

“Y/n!” I heard someone shouting my name as I turned back and saw Amber and Lena running towards me. When they both took their seats, I had a perfect view of their rosy cheeks, uneven breathing and the abashed glances they were sending to each other. I suppressed a smile with a clear throat. “I'm sorry you had to wait so long. Lena got her dress so dirty that we had to take it all off to clean it.”

Why is everybody having sex except me?

“Oh, I can certainly imagine that. Actually, I’m tired of sitting in one place all the time. How about hitting the dance floor?”

“Finally! I thought you'd never ask!” Lena squealed, grabbing both of our hands.

About half a minute later we were in a different state of consciousness. The colorful spotlights seemed brighter and the music seemed louder. We were jumping to the rhythm of some electronic song, shouting its lyrics to each other. The song was in a foreign language and it was the first time I heard it, so Amber was probably the only one in our group who sang the lyrics correctly. My legs were burning with fire. It's been a long time since I spent such a long time on the dance floor dancing non-stop, but I enjoyed it. 

Now I was much closer to the table of the man who was staring at me with incredible passion.

I looked at him again, and when we made eye contact, he winked at me. The stranger, dressed in black jeans and a gray hoodie, stared at me with an unreadable expression, blonde hair falling across his forehead. I didn't even know his name, but everything about him was suddenly stirring something inside me. His blonde hair. High cheek bones. His mustache. The tattoos on his hands. His smile too. It was something I couldn't look away from. As if I'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn’t recall where.

When “Careless whisper” started playing and Amber and Lena started to get closer to each other, I decided to leave them alone.

I gave a thumbs up to give Lena courage. She smiled shyly and placed her hands on Amber's waist. I apologized to the people around me and left the dance floor, heading outside. I needed to get some fresh air, and more specifically, listen to the sound of the sea waves.

The night was cold and the wind bit at my bare arms, chills running through my body. I sat down on the sand and scolded myself for not bringing anything to cover my head and shoulders. 

I inhaled sharply and then listened to my heartbeat because I was alone. I didn't worry about getting my dress dirty. It was worth it for this view. 

I started to feel dizzy. I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I shouldn’t have drank too much.

"Enjoyed dancing to one of my songs, huh?" I suddenly heard a raspy voice from behind me. I turned around to experience the biggest shock of my life. It was the same man who had ogled me in the club. I looked at him with wide eyes. The moonlight fell on him, making his honey skin shine, while the wind blew, making his hair move gently. Even the moon wasn't as beautiful as him.

I scrunched my nose. I tried to recreate all the songs I danced to in my head. I didn't have to wait long until he finally sat down next to me.

“You're a musician?”

He let out a small chuckle and, oh my God, his laugh was so hot. 

“Yeah, something like that. But lately people have gotten used to calling me Europapa. I guess, I don't have a name anymore.” I laughed at his words. After his hint, I was finally able to figure out what song he was the author of.

“Ah, it's you. I knew you reminded me of someone. In my country, people already made you a global superstar.”  He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.

“Oh, really? Where are you from?”

I nodded. “Poland, straight from the capital. How about you, Joost?”

I used his name for the first time since I could finally remember it. Judging by the expression on his face, I had to amuse him with my pronunciation because he started laughing. The smile disappeared from my face.

“No, no, no. Mh, I live in Leeuwarden, but currently I’m on tour. Came here in order to relieve my stress a bit. And you can call me whatever you want.”

I almost offered him another way to relieve his stress. It took all my might to hold back my laughter.

“Oh, I feel flattered.”

For a moment I looked at his shapely lips. Of course, he noticed that.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” I mumbled in a quiet voice, not knowing what to say.

“Can I get your name?” He asked finally.

“It's Y/n.” I said honestly, looking straight into his blue eyes. “Do you have anything to explain how you were devouring me with your eyes earlier?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, mentally scolding myself. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.

I looked up, immediately seeing a wide smile on Joost's face.

“Sorry. You're just so fucking pretty, I couldn't help myself.”

I bit my lip, suppressing a loud moan. I hated myself for how much he affected me.

“Can I?” He asked before placing his hand on my bare thigh. I nodded excitedly, waiting for him to move, which made him laugh a little.

“Mh- yes. Please.” I added with a pleading look on my face.

He dragged his hand slowly to my inner thigh, tossing my leg over his thigh, and made a low humming noise that vibrated from his chest.

Before I knew it, Joost's lips were smushed against mine in a passionate kiss. I gasped into his mouth as I melted against his lips, my hands resting comfortably on his muscled arms as his laid against my warm neck. Joost grasped the underside of my thighs and pulled me off the ground, wrapping my legs around his hips. 

“Joost..” I moaned breathily as his puffy lips attacked my neck, “I need you.”

“Of course you do, who wouldn't?” He teased, leading me towards his car. It was so dark that even if someone had been on that beach with us, wouldn’t have noticed us.

“Such a narcissist.”

Joost chuckled, “You know, if you shut that slutty mouth for once, you'd be so pretty.”

He opened the car door and put me in the back seat. After a while, he closed the door and sat down next to me.

“Oh, Y/n. I will give your body exactly what it deserves.” He said, a wide grin on his face as he leaned down to kiss me once more.

I bit my bottom lip and answered with one simple word.

“Yes.”

Joost wasted no time. He placed me on his lap and rolled up my tight dress. He moved his hands all over my body, making me go crazy.

“Your body is art.” He murmured.

His eyes pierced through mine, his gaze so intense that I almost melted on top of him. My hand shyly reached for his, playing around with his fingers and I moved my eyes down to look at what we were doing. “Is that what you want?” His voice was soft as if to not scare me away. “You want my fingers?” I looked in his eyes again and nodded my head quickly, feeling a tingling sensation on my stomach from the excitement. His other hand came up to caress my cheek and a little smirk could be seen on his lips. 

I moved on his lap when I was ready and one of his hands grabbed my hip while the other one ran up and down my thigh.

“Please.” I moaned, grasping his forearm tightly as I scrunched my face up in pleasure.

His fingertips brushed through my folds, coating them in my juices and I whined when I felt him rub slowly at my clit. “You're a soaking mess, baby.” His voice was so calm, a contrast to how shaky my breath was.

I gasped and he started applying more pressure to my clit. He eased one of his fingers inside me and a soft moan left my lips, my hips moving to ride his finger, his eyes intensely staring at me. “More.” I whined quietly.

“More?” He smirked and inserted another finger, feeling how my walls clenched around his digits, his hand moving to match the movements of my hips, thrusting his finger in and out of my pussy and I could ear the wet sounds it did.

“I'm so c-close, Joost. Just like that.” I moaned louder, locking his fingers between my legs. 

“Cum on my fingers, baby.”

“Oh God,” I cried out as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through my body.

When I was done, he slowly removed his fingers from my pussy, moving them to his mouth, sucking my juices from them, grunting at the taste of me which made me sigh heavily at the sight in front of me.

“Take off your pants, Joost.”

“Of course, baby.” He chuckled, politely following my order.

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

eddie munson x shy!oc

contents: anxiety, curse words, friends to lovers. lovesick!eddie, inexperienced!reader, self-consciousness, first kiss, sharing clothes. eddie’s jacket is oversized on reader. can be read as x reader, but a bit oc too? carnival date.

word count: ~1.5k

eddie munson is in love.

she is entirely inexperienced in anything romantic or sexual; no first kiss, never even got close to it. extremely shy and anxious, has a seemingly innocent aura, is a bit out of sorts, ditzy, with a sort of luna lovegood vibe. doesn’t argue with people, always tears up if confronted about anything, doesn’t have beef with anyone and is a lot more rational than emotional even though she tears up so easily. also doesn’t hold grudges or care what people think of her…

the thing is, she has been introverted her whole life, a very anxious person, and so doesn’t understand that eddie munson likes her because she needs to be told how people feel about her very explicitly otherwise her mind will convince her they hate her. anxiety is like that. and she’s the kind of person that has a hard time realizing that people can perceive their existence and have feelings for them, no matter what type of feelings, so even though eddie is not at all shy about flirting with her and giving her all of the attention in the world in his over-the-top, overdramatic way, he also knows that if anything other than the friendship he’s thankfully managed to build with her is going to happen, romantic-wise, that she has to be the one to initiate it— but she’s oblivious!

on the other hand though, she doesn’t even bother hiding her infatuation with eddie — it’s a lot more than infatuation by now. she’s always looking at him with stars in her eyes and laughs at his jokes and smiles that big, square, goofy smile whenever they lock eyes and constantly praises him because he deserves to feel as special as he is, right? and she goes into detailed talks about lord of the rings with him, likes many of the same bands he does or simply lets him play his favorites for her, and she truly loves to watch hellfire play dungeons & dragons.

her eds even made her a special edition pink hellfire shirt. ‘cause he’s a simp.

one day, as she’s out with chrissy and heather outside a diner, talking and laughing and catching up, eddie is close by somewhere with friends. his van is parked nearby.

it starts getting chilly, and eddie’s girl starts shivering, so she quickly excused herself away from the girls, “gimme a second!” and reaches through the open window of eddie’s van, making a mental note to grill him about it later — “‘cause it isn’t safe, eds!” — to grab his leather jacket thinking of how he has told her over and over that she can borrow it, that “what’s mine is yours, sweets. i don’t mind sharing if it’s with you”, so she figures it’s okay, right? and goes back to the girls who are fucking smirking like they see something she doesn’t.

it’s about fifteen minutes later, and eddie is walking towards the trio, simply because he misses his girl and wants a hug, when he sees it.

she’s wearing his jacket. his jacket.

in typical eddie fashion, he makes a scene— gasping dramatically, he clutches his chest over his heart and falls to his knees, because fuck what anyone around thinks. his precious girl is wearing his fucking jacket! and she looks like a fucking angel.

“eds, what are you doin’?”

“do you know how heavenly you look in my jacket? i just had to get on my knees to worship you.”

the boy shuffles closer to his sweet girl on his knees still while he talks and she’s flustered, okay? she’s shy and her face is on fire and she’s covering her cheeks and giggling. and because it’s eddie, her eddie, she’s not running away to have a panic attack. ‘cause it’s eddie and he’s being sweet, so she can’t focus on anyone else long enough to feel crippling anxiety or embarrassment. doesn’t even care that chrissy is cooing and heather is smirking.

“that jacket is yours now, you own it. you pretty much own me by now.” eddie says, on his knees, in front of her

“it’s okay that i took it right?” she makes sure even after his display of joy, ‘cause anxiety isn’t rational “you said i—”

her eddie knows her, though. he stands up, gets real fucking close to her, so close they’re almost touching, with this look of absolute adoration and “i’d give ya everything i have if i could, pretty.”

fast forward a few days later. chrissy kept yapping on and on to the oblivious girl about how “in love” eddie is, but it’s as though her brain won’t let her even entertain the idea.

that’s until she’s having a semi-regular quote unquote friend-date with eddie, something they’ve done quite a few times before, and this time they go to the fair. they’re doing everything couples might do, eddie is very aware of this, and he’s over the moon to just be enjoying quality time with his pretty girl until she spots a photobooth, “oh, eds! we have to!” and eddie’s desperately counting coins to pay. the pictures go a little something like this:

after coming up blank with pose ideas, they just look at each other and laugh, but at the sound of his free and bright laugh, she just stares at her boy like he’s a dream come true— first pic is taken, looking at eddie like he hung the moon while he’s mid-laugh.

eddie notices her staring and goes from loud laughs to breathless ones, a smile on his lips, and whispers a soft “what?”— second picture is taken as the girl quickly presses her lips to his, her very first kiss, and it’s caught on camera.

the third picture depicts eddie’s sweet girl nervously rambling “i was going to ask for permission first, i promise!” while eddie has a glassy, dreamy look on his face, slack jawed, looking at her lips.

and at the fourth snap? eddie presses forward to shut her up with another impossibly soft and tender kiss, both of their eyes are closed and his hand is holding her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek.

after they part from the second kiss, eddie acknowledges that it was her first kiss, a shy “was that okay?” to which his sweetheart just smiles really big and nods excitedly over and over with a breathless giggle. that was the perfect first and second kiss and she couldn’t ask for more.

they hold hands the rest of the night.

[firstdivisiongirl]

i love your works, they are amazing! if you don't mind could you write a one shot with Baji x reader, where they are 12-13(maybe before boys formed toman or just formed), she can be his friend, classmate, tutor, neighbour, Emma's friend, whatever your prefer, and Baji is so in love with her that everybody can see it and reader also knows it and his friends tease him A LOT. and maybe you can write how he confessed his love and his friends helped him(while they are still 12-13)

Hi there. Thank you for the compliment. So, I was already writing something similar to this requests, but with an OC. I changed it from OC to Reader insert. I love the idea of the other founding members meddling in the others' love lives. I hope you enjoy!

Keisuke Baji x Fem Reader: Fifteen Minutes

Baji was acting really different and all of his friends could see it.  They didn’t know why, but he was.  He kept telling them he had to go somewhere and that he’d be back in 15 minutes.  Well, one day they decided to follow him and see where he was going.  Low and behold, it was to see a girl?  They watched as Baji talked to her.  He looked really happy and in love.  It was weird to see Baji that way.  Before they knew it they heard him say, “sorry, I gotta go.  I’ll see you tomorrow for our usual tutoring session.”  He was in love with his tutor, they all questioned.  Looks like they’re playing matchmaker.

***

When Baji got back to where they were hanging out, everyone was waiting with a dumb grin.  Mitsuya laughed, “So, didn’t know fifteen was a girl’s name?  You know if there was a girl you liked we wouldn’t make fun of you.  We are your friends.”

Baji blushed, “I don’t like her like that.  She’s my tutor.”

Draken laughed, hitting Baji on the back, “if she’s just your tutor, then why are you blushing?”

“Don’t talk, man!  We all know about your crush on Emma.”

“But I’m not afraid to admit I like her.  Dude, just ask her out.  We’re only twelve.  If she says no, it’s not a big deal.”

Baji sighed, “fine, but no meddling from any of you.”

You were waiting for Baji to come to your house for your weekly tutoring session.  Usually he’d come early so you two could get studying finished and then have some time to hang out at the end.  If you weren’t clueless about feelings, you’d think he’d liked you.  But, he wasn’t there yet.  You thought maybe he forgot or something came up last minute.  But it was unlike him not to call either.  Suddenly the ringing of the doorbell interrupted your racing thoughts.  When you opened it, thankfully it was Baji, but he was holding a bouquet of flowers?  “Here,” he said, shoving it into your face and trying to hide his bright pink blush.  You blinked a few times in confusion.  “Is everything okay, Keisuke,” you asked as you went to get a vase for your flowers.

“Yes and no.  My friends are annoying me about something, but I get to hang out with you so it’s good,” he replied, flashing his famous toothy grin.”

“What are they annoying you about?”

“Well, they convinced me to ask out this girl I like, even though I’m nervous, too.  It’s just that, we have a really good thing going and I don’t want that to change.”

“I’d say just go for it!  Just ask her out.  If she really enjoys spending time with you, she won’t hate you if you tell her.”

“Fine,”  Baji took a deep breath, “I like you Y/N.  A lot.  My favorite time is when we hang out.  Heck, I even enjoy studying with you.  So…you wanna..”

“Yes,” you interrupted abruptly.  He looked at you shocked, “you didn’t let me finish!  I had this all rehearsed,” you interrupted him again by kissing him quickly on the lips.  “Come on, let’s get to studying

He was happy now that he didn’t have to sneak off to see you for only fifteen minutes anymore.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

It’s high time I’ve done another rec post, so here I am, coming in hot with six WIPs you should be reading right now.

Before I get into the fics themselves, a word about reading WIPs. Look, I know it’s tempting to wait until a fic is complete. Not to mention the fact that there is an absolutely staggering amount of amazing fics out there. I’m a slow reader myself, and my TBR list, even after reading fics for nearly three years, is so damn long. I could easily sit back and only read older completed fics and probably never finish them all.

But. I love a good WIP fic almost like nothing else. Yes, binging a completed fic in one sitting can leave you flying high. But following a fic as it’s being written, interacting with said fic and cheering that writer on, gives me so much gratification. Getting that email notification for a new chapter, and feeling so eager to read the new update, is an absolute joy. I highly recommend.

Lastly, this is not an exhaustive list of current Carry On WIPs, but merely a small sampling. And if anyone has any good WIP recs for me, I’d love to hear them!

Only Creatures, WIP, currently 52k, rated E by @emeryhall

In this canon divergent story, Simon breaks up with Baz at the end of WS, leading Baz to become a recluse and a poet, growing a beard and hiding out in Scotland. When he finds out Simon is a camboy for a website called Only Creatures, they tentatively start wanking chatting again. Come for Baz’s Unabomber style, stay for the second chances and explorations of intimacy.

Everything Emery writes is amazing, and this fic is no exception. It’s a little absurd, incredibly witty and heartfelt, with a cast of OCs that quietly shine. This story has cracked my heart open and is slowly putting it back together. You won’t regret reading this one.

Hiding Out in the Open, WIP, currently 48k, rated M by @cutestkilla

Another canon divergence story, this time where Simon and Baz never got together after their truce in 8th year. After the SSR debacle, they meet again and this time start connecting over a shared interest in a psychology podcast.

This fic does an excellent job of having these boys dig into their trauma and issues via the podcast topics, letting them heal and connect, while also letting the reader marvel at the heavy Snowbaz vibes of every podcast episode. It’s so smart, I’m telling you.

I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man, WIP, currently 83k, rated T by @shrekgogurt

This football AU has Baz and Simon ending up on the same premiere league team, years after playing together at school. The author gives us flashbacks in every chapter of their frought relationship as teens, before progressing the story in the present.

I can’t believe I haven’t done an official rec post for this fic yet. Mary writes the sports bits of this story so vividly, and the flashback bookends of each chapter so perfectly tie into the current narrative, you’ll marvel at the complex way it moves the story forward. Seriously, one of my all time faves.

Basil Pitch’s Diary, WIP, currently 32k, rated T by @bookish-bogwitch

Watford-era Baz starts a diary on January 1st, determined to record his progress on various resolutions, namely, getting over Simon Snow.

This fic has the incredible humor of Bridget Jones’s Diary and will introduce you to your favorite version of acerbic, self-depricating teenage Baz. He will own your soul. There is no other outcome of reading this fic.

The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, WIP, currently 25k, rated M by @monbons

This story watches a three hundred year old Baz, cursed after desperately trying to find a way to be loved on his own terms, wandering aimlessly in present times until he finds a certain blue eyed barista who has an unusual reaction to meeting him.

This AU is based on The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, but you don’t have to have read the book to become immersed in this achingly sad but thoroughly sweet story of hope and second chances.

Episode 6: Apres la Pluie, le Beau Temps, WIP, currently 10k, rated M by @artsyunderstudy

Another installment in the Star Trek series for the lovely @raenestee, this series is the epitome of following a good WIP story. Several authors have contributed to this sci-fi beast, and the progression of the story through several different writers’ hands is an absolute delight to watch. (And, as one of the authors, to participate in.)

If you aren’t yet reading it, this is a great time to join. We’re right in the middle of the story, leaving the four couples in Ashton’s very capable hands as she expertly guides them through various communication breakdowns. If you know nothing of Star Trek, don’t let that stop you from joining a thoroughly entertaining epic of a story.

[rebelwrites]

Eighteen: He Wants To Play Cupid

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

“Bro, get that coffee machine on!” I hollered over my shoulder as I kicked my Nikes off, not bothering to place them back on the shoe rack, “make yourself at home boys.”

Jax appeared from the kitchen, his brow cocked, “and why can’t you make the coffee?” he hummed.

“Urm, because I don’t wanna and I’m going to get changed,” I smirked, running up the stairs to my room. The moment I had shut the door behind me I stretched my fingers out, hissing at the tightness, looking down I noticed the dried blood spread across my skin, how I managed to split my knuckles, it wasn’t like I punched a brick wall but then again Ima’s face was 90% plastic so it made a little sense. Shaking my head, I ignored the sudden stinging coming from my hand as I tugged my clothes off leaving them in a pile on the floor.

I wanted to be comfy so I grabbed my oversized Ferrari shirt and bike shorts.

The sound of laughter coming from downstairs made my heart skip a beat, it was safe to say Elenor adored Charles and Pierre. The bond they had formed in such a short space of time was special and I think Jax was starting to get a little jealous of the amount of time his daughter was spending with her new ‘uncles’. My chest tightened at the thought of her having to say goodbye to her two new favorite people, she was going to be distraught. No matter what happened with me and Charles I was going to make sure that I kept in contact with them because I wasn’t going to break her little heart.

My head was still spinning from the comments about being in love with Charles, I didn’t think it was obvious I was falling hard for him but apparently even though I tried to hide it everyone around me, including the man himself could see I was.

“Nova if you aren’t down here in 5 seconds I’m pouring your coffee down the sink!” Jax shouted up the stairs.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare!”

“5”

“You asshole.”

“4”

“Have I told you how fucking annoying you are?”

“3”

“Fuck off.”

“2”

“Shit,” I cursed as I tripped over my own feet on the top of the stairs, “I'm coming.”

“1”

“Pops, Jax is being annoying again,” I shouted, sprinting down the stairs, trying not to land on my ass. The last thing I wanted was to end up in hospital with broken bones because Jax was threatening my coffee.

“You had your chance,” Jax sang as he sauntered back towards the kitchen.

“Lay one hand on my mug and I will cut your balls off with your own knife,” I growled, jumping from the third step up, sticking the landing on the hallway floor. I was struggling to get traction due to my socks on the polished hardwood floors. “Jackson Nathaniel Teller, don’t you walk away from me!” I screeched, sliding down the hallway trying to catch my brother.

“Nova, stop screeching,” Pops scolded, standing in the opening of the kitchen blocking my path, meaning I crashed straight into him.

“But Pops, he started it,” I whined, pouting at him, “I’m only finishing it.”

“Jax, stop winding your sister up,” Pops chuckled, shaking his head before entering the kitchen.

Narrowing my eyes at my brother I shoved him out of the way but I didn’t miss my chance to jab him in the ribs as I moved him away from my coffee, “make yourself useful and go get the living room set up for movie night.”

The moment Jax left, an awkward silence fell over me and Pops. I hadn’t properly spoken with him since his last episode, we made little comments with each other but things had changed. I hated the tension between us, this was the man that saved my life, the man who was always in my corner fighting when I was at my weakest and here I was fighting his decision on moving into a care home.

“Pops,” I whispered, leaning against the worktop finally looking up at the man that was my hero, “I know we need additional help but,” I paused, feeling myself choking on my own words, the tears threatening to spill over my lashline, “I feel like if we shove you in a home we have failed you.”

The coffee was long forgotten about as I hid my face in my hands, the moments the words left my lips I felt a slight shift in the weight I was carrying on my shoulders. I had never admitted to him just how I felt about him going into a facility.

“Tellers never quit on family.” I sobbed.

Pops pulled me into his arms, squeezing me tight, running his fingers through my hair. something he used to do to soothe me when I was a child, “I could never think you failed me, my sweet angel,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against the top of my head, “I can see how much pressure this is putting on both you and Jax and the last thing I want is to be a burden on either of you.”

I found myself gripping his shirt, hanging on for dear life. There was no way I was going to put him into a home, “we can get through this, Pops,” I cried, “we can get help, Charles made that donation so we can get someone in, someone to take the pressure off. The fucking wheels haven’t fallen off yet and I won’t let them,” I whispered, looking up at him.

“Thought that was an anonymous donation,” Pops chuckled.

“What 16 thousand dollars? Bit obvious if you ask me,” I said with a weak smile, “the boy is as subtle as me and Jax trying to sneak into the house after we had been drinking underage.”

A warm smile appeared on his face, like he was remembering the years me and Jax were absolute trouble makers, “I guess you are right,” he hummed, leaning in, pressing a kiss against my forehead, “if you want to get some assistance then we can look into it, but I want you to at least take a look at some of the places I have found. At least then we have covered all options because sweetheart I am only going to get worse.”

Taking a deep breath, I knew he was right but then again he always was, “okay, I will have a look into them.”

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered, giving me one last squeeze before he took a step back. “now, dry your eyes, take a deep breath, let's go enjoy movie night,” he smiled, pausing for a moment, “oh and tell your man exactly how you feel.”

“Why does everything think he is my man?” I asked, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hands, “we are just having some fun whilst he is on summer break.”

“Oh my sweet Nova, everyone can see that this isn’t just some fun for him. That boy is smitten for you, he practically has heart eyes when he looks at you,” he beamed, wrapping his heart around my shoulder he pressed a kiss against the side of my head, “I can see you holding back, don’t forget I know how hard you love.”

“It’s all going to come to an end in two weeks anyway, I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch when he leaves so yes I might be protecting myself a little and holding back,” I mumbled, resting my head on his shoulder.

“True love doesn’t knock very often, I’ve seen the assholes you have dated and Charles is the best thing to ever happen to you,” he said softly.

“No, the best thing to happen to me was you, Pops,” I smiled, placing my hand over his.

“Okay, second best thing then,” he chucked, “what I am trying to say is don’t shut the door in his face, his love is true and pure and that is rare, so when a love like this appears, you need to let it in, you need to embrace it with open arms. You may not believe this but he is your soulmate, we can all see it. So, please just let yourself fall madly in love with him, if anyone can work a long distance relationship it’s you and Charles.”

His words rang loud in my mind, it was like I suddenly saw everything clearly. My heart was screaming out for the man that was causing my niece to fill the living room with laughter. Charles fit right in with my crazy ass family and everyone loved him.

Taking a deep breath I grabbed my coffee mug and made my way into the living room. The moment my eyes landed on Charles my heart skipped a beat, he looked up from Elenor, flashing me that perfect smile. Ignoring the look on Jax and Pierre’s face I made my way around the room, placing my mug on the side table that was next to the love chair. The minute the mug hit the wooden top I felt Charles wrap his arms around my waist pulling me onto his lap, causing me to squeal.

“Alright, love birds, get comfy and let's start this movie night,” Jax huffed, waving the tv remote in the air.

Flipping him off, I repositioned myself so I had my legs over Charles before pulling a blanket over the two of us. I couldn’t help but smile as Charles pressed a kiss against the top of my head, “you’ve been crying,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

“I’m okay, promise,” I whispered, resting my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, “things are going to be okay.”

The hours passed by, I spent the whole time snuggled up to Charles not really paying attention to the movies, Pops’ words kept replaying over and over in my mind. I had spent so long worrying about this ending I hadn’t been truly focused on the moment but all that was going to change. I was going to let myself completely fall madly in love with the Monégasque that had sped into my life flipping it upside down. I needed to stop hiding behind the walls I had spent so long building, Charles had shown me he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m gonna take her up to bed,” Jax said softly, pulling me from my thoughts. Looking up I saw him scooping Elenor up from Pierre’s chest, she had officially claimed him as her spot for the evening. “I think I’m gonna call it a night as well, today has wiped me out,” before I could speak a loud yawn escaped my lips, I had been trying to hide the fact I was exhausted, “sounds like you need to go to bed as well,” Jax hummed, adjusting his grip so he didn’t drop his daughter.

“Not tired,” I lied, snuggling further into Charles trying to keep my eyes open.

“We should be heading off, it’s getting late,” Charles whispered, pressing a kiss against my forehead.

A wave of sadness washed over me, I didn’t want Charles to go. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before he had to leave. I couldn’t help but cock my brow at Pops, he had a smirk on his face that I hadn’t seen in a while.

“Stay the night,” he grinned, glancing between Charles and Pierre.

I couldn’t believe the words that casually fell out of my father’s lips, I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights, even Jax had frozen on the spot. Pops had been really weird with people staying in the house overnight, I knew he felt like people were judging us all, especially with all of the sticky notes that were scattered around the house so this was kind of a big deal for him.

“Hell, move your stuff over from the lodge if you want,” he grinned, running his hand through his graying hair, “ain’t like you’ve been spending much time there anyway.”

For once in my life I found myself lost for words, never in a million years did I think he would invite Charles and Pierre to live with us for the rest of their stay. Looking over to my brother I found him staring back at me with a cat eating the canary grin as Pops pushed himself off the sofa leaving the room without saying another word.

“That son of a bitch,” I finally breathed once I was sure Pops was out of earshot, leaning forward I ran my hands over my face trying to fully process everything.

“What just happened?” Charles hummed, resting his hand on my lower back.

Jax let out a low chuckle, adjusting his grip on Elenor who was sound asleep resting her head on his shoulder, “it seems like Pops is having an extremely good day so he has decided he wants to play cupid. But let's face it Squirt, Charles will be in your bedroom most of the time,” Jax chuckled.

“Thought you were going to bed,” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Come on man, I will show you where the guest room is,” Jax said, turning to Pierre. I watched as they strolled out of the living room but Jax stilled for a moment, looking over his shoulder with that stupid smug smirk on his face. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he winked, causing me to groan and flip him off.

Soon enough it was just me and Charles left in the living room, a comfortable silence washed over the two of us. The air around us had changed, it was heavier now. The moonlight creeping through the blinds caused his green eyes to sparkle. He reached up tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before leaning closer. The moment his soft lips pressed against mine I felt my stomach flip, everything felt so right with him, our movements were in sync. It was suddenly clear to me that he was the missing piece of the puzzle, the part I had been searching for my whole life.

He adjusted his position, flipping me in the process so he was now hovering over me. His hands were roaming my thighs as he deepened the kiss. The heat of it was driving me insane, I was turning to putty in his hands, he had this power over me that I didn’t try to stop.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I slowly pulled away from him, resting my forehead against his. As much as I wanted to see where this kiss led, I knew I wasn’t ready and there was no chance I was going to go there with my dad and brother in the same house.

“Allons nous coucher. Let's go to bed,” I whispered against his lips.

“Show me the way, Sunshine,” he said slightly out of breath.

I thought he would be disappointed that this sudden make out session wasn’t leading anywhere but the moment I looked into his eyes those worries slipped away. His green eyes were shining bright with love, not disappointment, it was at that moment I realized something. Pops was right. This was my chance to be truly happy with someone that loved every inch of me and didn’t care about my upbringing or that I wasn’t some famous model. He loved me for who I was.

Charles Leclerc was my soulmate.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @burningcupcakefire @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[demonir]

Welcome to Adrian’s good omens thoughts while he’s half asleep again, on todays episode I want to talk about how important the gender expression in the show is to me

Don’t mind the typos I’m lying down without my glasses

I really appreciate how subtle they are about characters genders and stuff, characters with commonly male names being played by actresses and they still use stuff like “sir” or “lord” even if they also get referred to as they/them. They don’t make an intense effort to make them look incredibly androgynous either which like- idk it’s nice.

Knowing neither angels or demons have a defined gender also feels so so so nice because it comes paired with the fact they still choose to present in specific ways and use specific pronouns because newsflash bozo someone can be nonbinary or agender and still present masc as fuck or fem as fuck and use either he/him or she/her and if they wake up 2 weeks from now and change that they are still valid.

Which takes me to my second favorite point, Crowley’s change in gender presentation. I know we all know or at the very least agree he’s genderfluid but like I want to highlight the way he does it because it means so much to me. He has obviously chosen to be masc presenting through most of history (that we’ve seen, there could still be periods of time we haven’t seen where she’s been fem) and idk abt you but I was a tumblr teen years ago learning a very skewed version of gender identity and expression where if you wanted to be genderfluid you had to look very attractive as both genders and also PASS as both genders convincingly (as well as being perfectly androgynous when being neither, this also applied to nonbinary people), as well as change it like every 2 days or so and have no preference? That’s the way people would make it seem to me, that’s the way people would portray their genderfluid characters in fandom spaces and that’s the way my teenage mind came to absorb it.

Now, it’s 2024 and I’m sure all of us with common sense know this is bogus but still seeing Crowley just sorta… brightened my everything? Knowing nanny Crowley wasn’t just for the joke, knowing that during certain scenes she was indeed being fem… but the most important part to me is that no matter what he was still HIM, they could have gone the easy route and have an actress play fem Crowley and be like “oh well she’s a demon she can shapeshift whenever ooooo” like so many people do with their ocs (I was one at one point) but it is still obviously him, it is still David Tennant playing Crowley and nobody else and when she’s fem she’s still got the same features the same everything and that’s somehow just… so freeing to see? It’s realistic, it’s grounding. You can be fem and still have overly masculine features, you can be fem and still have facial hair, you can be masc and still wear makeup, you can be masc and not hide your chest.

Now I wish this was all just… more obvious to everyone, I know some of this stuff because I saw posts, I saw people talking about it… but not everyone is gonna go through a 3 hour post scavenger hunt for extra lore like I do and these things are simply not addressed in the show. There IS a certain freeing feeling to the gender stuff not being addressed, it simply happens, it passes by and you might not even notice, but also comes with the double edged sword of people simply thinking SOME of the characters have funny genders but the others don’t.

Sorry I’m distracted rn bc I can hear a fucking bohemian rhapsody cover coming from my moms tv the timing of this is fucking wild, anyways I’m gonna try to get my thoughts back on track

So yeah, to some people like for example my aforementioned mother, the nanny Crowley thing was merely a joke and nothing else, not a brief moment of gender expression but just a perhaps even nasty joke played at the expense of other people. To her every other Crowley before and after that has been strictly cis male and mlm despite the fact I did in fact explain to her that he’s not, same applies to Aziraphale and perhaps even harder because we only ever see him presenting masculine through the entirety of it and trying to explain otherwise to the woman that thinks she can use she/he on me because I’m bisexual will not work (and she refuses to use he/him on me anyways mind you, or my chosen name. Says it’s too complicated, but I know for a fact that if one of the characters had changed their name mid show she would switch to the new name instantly…..yknow… just casual transphobia for me only)

I would like just…a passing comment or a scene that lets everyone know the nuance yknow? Finally something that cannot be disputed by everyone, and you might say “well but Crowley says he’s neither when he gets called a good lad” and to that I say yes but people still dispute the meaning behind it, my mom certainly would. And again you might want to shake the nanny scene in front of me and again I’ll remind you of people thinking it was just a joke, a disguise, a singular haha funny. You might want to gesture towards other scenes or moments or passing phrases but the thing is they will or have already been debated on because people will try to deny it no matter fucking what and it’s FRUSTRATING, so perhaps it’s just me being petty or wanting to give them a good ol fuck you but I’d like it if either Crowley or Aziraphale or both just looked at the camera head on and went “we are not men, also Crowley is genderfluid” no ifs no butts no second meaning just straight to your face, a giant “shut the fuck up” to annoying people.

Now I’m not gonna die if this doesn’t happen, I’m fine with that… it just sorta feels depressing seeing someone in the wild genuinely saying shit like “why are you using she/her for Crowley? He’s a man” my brother in Christ I am about to hit you with the mallet of knowledge and you won’t be able to look at that demon the same way ever again.

The gender expression in good omens matters so much to me as someone who struggles with her own and Crowley and Beelzebub matter so much to me as a little afab genderfluid/nonbinary (I’m not sure yet) motherfucker, I need to go bite some fuckinf ccomcrete right now man, accidental typo but I’m keeping it.

[running-tweezers]

After a lot of encouraging from my bestie @phantasmechanical, and some interest from a few folks here, I’ve decided to post the first part of an AU fic I’m writing (and have been hyperfixated on) with my favorite ocs. There are currently 6 parts written, over 13k words, and I’m still working on it. If you enjoy, I live and breathe off comments and reblogs and asks and such. And I’ll continue posting more here on occasion. SO, without further ado.

~ Pictures Of You - Part 1 ~

The year is 1989. Nate, with his sunshiney smile, his love of plants, and his mostly “normal” tastes, has fallen head over heels. There’s only one issue. He’s fallen for a gorgeous goth named Zephyr he only sees on public access TV once a week.

Rated: T

2255 words

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~ April 28, 1989 ~

Nate’s eyelids drooped a bit as the clock made its way closer to 1 AM. He would regret this in the morning. He always did. But it was worth it.

This Thursday night routine was all a secret for a while, until his sister started calling him out for nearly nodding off during their Friday lunch catch up sessions. He couldn’t hide it from her, he had to fess up. She had just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that figures,” she’d said. “You’ve always had a thing for the freaks.” She scolded him gently for not getting enough sleep and that was that, aside from the odd comment occasionally about his “hot TV goth.”

Nate poured a cup of the coffee he brewed just for this, hoping the caffeine would pull him through the next half hour without making him jittery all night. It was either that, or risk falling asleep on his uncomfortable couch again. Then he’d really regret it.

He settled in and flicked on the TV, switching it to the public access station before the screen could even fully light up. What played before varied from week to week. Sometimes it was this phony TV psychic, sometimes reruns of some televangelist, sometimes just infomercials selling Ginsu knives and love song compilations. He figured they couldn’t find someone willing to stick to such a late time slot. This week it was some New Wave guy with questionable talent and even more questionable haircut, banging on a Cassio keyboard and singing off key. He hit the mute button and sipped from his mug, waiting for the last few minutes to pass.

Soon the irritating Duran Duran wannabe cut out, and the screen filled with familiar color bars. He unmuted, just in time to hear the last bit of ringing dead air cut suddenly to the sound of guitars and deep droning vocals.

And there they were.

Behind a dimly lit desk in a brick walled basement, with thick black eye makeup and wild, ratted up hair, sat the whole reason Nate was still awake at this time every Thursday night.

“Welcome, night owls and creatures of the darkness.” The figure on the screen spoke to the camera, in a cold, deadpan voice, never letting their face show anything more than a wry smirk. “My name’s Zephyr and you’ve stumbled into my world for the next half hour. Aren’t you lucky.”

A phone number hung at the bottom of the screen as they continued their introduction. “If you have something worthwhile to say, call in. If not, don’t bother.”

They launched immediately into a long and rambling explanation of the song playing in the background that kicked off the show. Nate recognized the name of the band, ‘Sisters of Mercy,” from their music recommendations in the past. He barely knew anything about the goth scene they talked about. What he did know, however, was that they were gorgeous. There was something so entrancing about them. Something dark and mysterious that he couldn’t look away from.

Maybe Mick was right. Maybe he was just into freaks.

“Speaking of music, I got my hands on the single The Cure put out last week, the one from the new album coming out soon. I’m gonna get the album as soon as it hits the shelves, but whatever, I couldn’t resist.” Their face remained apathetic, but there was an undeniable light behind their eyes. It was obvious they were excited behind the thin mask of indifference. It was endlessly endearing.

“Fascination Street is the single, and it’s incredible, even the B-side is great—“ They paused looking down at their switchboard. “Looks like there’s someone on the line,” they muttered, fiddling with the buttons on the desk in front of them. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, me and my friend have a question,” the distorted phone voice slurred with the distinct cadence of a drunk college kid, with said friend laughing in the background. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

Zephyr breathed a weary sigh, and leaned back in their chair. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna fuck you either way.”

“Who the hell said I wanted to fuck you, you ugly fucking frea-“

“Bite me,” they flatly interrupted, disconnecting the line. “Anyway, Facination Street…”

Calls like that were too common. More people called in to be rude than to actually talk. It just seemed to come with the territory, but they handled them pretty well. It took a person with a ton of courage to come on TV and deal with people like that, just so they could talk about things they loved. That only made them that much more intriguing.

“I got the cassette version, the 12-inch vinyl has an extended intro, plus an extra B-side. I heard that extended intro for the first time at the club the other night. I swear it was a fucking spiritual experience. Being on the floor at The Underground, listening to The Cure, with all those other people? That's church to me. That’s my religion.” He continued with that same intensity, as if nothing happened. That was their favorite band, they talked about them all the time. He’d never listened to any of their music, but every time he saw one of their albums on the shelf at the store, his mind lit up with recognition.

He daydreamed occasionally of bumping into them at Sam Goody, just by pure coincidence. Striking up a conversation. Asking them about what music they’d recommend. Hearing their passionate rambling in person. It was dumb. They probably went to much cooler, underground record stores than some mall chain. But it was nice to think about.

“We have another caller.” Once again they paused their stream of consciousness and pressed buttons on the switchboard. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“The Cure sucks shit.” The voice on the other side of the phone managed to sound even more bored and detached, almost like it was a competition. “They’re nothing but mainstream garbage now.”

“Have you heard the new single?”

“No, but their whole last album was poppy bullshit.”

“It had a little bit of a pop sound, yeah, but the meat of what makes them good was still there,” they argued. “You’re acting like they became fuckin, Tiffany and started doing mall shows or something.”

“They might as well be.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Well I think you’re a poser.”

They noticeably bristled at the accusation. “I’m already halfway through my slot, I don’t have time for this shit.” They disconnected the call, looking a bit more shaken than usual.

Why did people call in just to be assholes? Maybe the anonymity combined with an audience was too sweet a deal to people like that. Nate genuinely couldn’t understand that way of thinking. Where was the joy in being mean to a stranger?

He glanced at the phone sitting on the end table by the couch. Calling in had crossed his mind before. He had even had the number dialed, ready to press the call button a few times, but he always chickened out in the end. What would he even say? He didn’t know anything about any of this. So he remained a silent observer, content to just watch this beautiful goth waxing poetic about the things they cared about.

They didn’t have to wait much longer for another call. They answered with a touch of exasperation. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, remember me, bitch?”

Without wasting a second, what was obviously the drunk caller from earlier, dove in with some of the most brutal nastiness Nate had ever heard anyone spew, much less a caller on their show. The onslaught of insults and hate speech seemed to be unending, attacking every aspect that he could think of. Nothing was off limits to this guy. It turned Nate’s stomach to be reminded so vividly how awful some people could be.

Zephyr didn’t look like they were faring well either. They scrambled to disconnect the call, blurting out a single shaky “fuck you,” before silencing him. They let out a heavy breath, their silence only accentuated by their faint music still playing in the background.

Something broke. The nonchalant, confident Zephyr he’d come to know through the screen was completely gone for a few brief seconds. Like they’d never been there.

They cleared their throat and sat back up straight in their chair, trying to regain composure. “Sorry about that,” they said, as solidly as they could muster. “Maybe we should just move on to something else…”

Nate made up his mind in an instant.

He grabbed the phone next to him and carefully dialed the on screen number, not hesitating to press the call button this time.

He twisted the cord around his finger as he waited to connect. The shift in Zephyr’s demeanor on screen let him know he’d gotten through. They looked defeated, like they were debating even picking this one up. He prayed that they did.

He saw the press of the button and heard the click from the phone a split second later.

“Hello?” They had dropped their regular script, too exhausted and annoyed to even finish it.

“Hi!” The first word out of their mouth was entirely too much energy, but once he heard that call connect, he was acting on pure instinct.

They relaxed, if only a little, obviously relieved to hear any voice other than the previous caller. “Hi?” they repeated, puzzled.

It hit him all at once, and he could only sit in silence for a split second. He was actually talking to them. Live on the air. He acted on such impulse, the only thought in his head was to block that asshole from calling back. He hadn’t thought past this moment.

“I uh… I didn’t really think through what I was gonna say.” Nate laughed nervously as he floundered for the right words. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I really like your show? I’ve been watching every week for the last couple of months. I don’t know much about all this, but I like hearing you talk about it.”

Zephyr looked skeptical. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No! No, I mean it!” Nate summoned every ounce of sincerity he could, to try and make Zephyr believe him. “You’re obviously really passionate about it, and I like watching you because of that.”

Yes. Because of their passion for their interests. No other reason. Especially not because he found them unbelievably sexy.

“Oh.” Zephyr’s drawn on eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, uh. Thanks, I guess.” They struggled to accept the compliment and still maintain that mysterious facade. Nate thought for a second he caught the beginnings of a smile, but it may have been a trick of the cameras.

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at the clock. Just over 10 minutes of airtime left. If that guy wanted to call in again, he would have plenty of time to do it. He had to stay on the line and get them talking about something else.

“So, I do have a question,” he began, thinking back to his stupid record store daydream. “If I just walk into any regular mall record store, what would you recommend looking for if I want to ease my way into listening to stuff like this? Or do I need to look somewhere else for the good stuff?”

“Oh, that’s a good question, actually.” Their eyes lit up again, and they were off. “You can find good stuff there, it’s just gonna be the more mainstream artists. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m always gonna recommend The Cure, obviously. And no matter what that prick earlier said, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their last album, and I feel like it’s pretty accessible. A good gateway, I think.”

He stayed on the phone, asking questions, and they were more than happy to answer them all. The next 10 minutes flew by, and soon he had a list of artists and albums scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Eventually, Zephyr cut themself off from the tangent they had been going on. “Oh shit, I’m almost out of time.”

“That’s ok, thanks for all the suggestions!” He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice, and it threatened to draw a smile out of the stone faced goth on the TV.

“Of course.” They answered, having turned that creeping smile quickly into a smug smirk, to maintain the illusion. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He hung up the phone and watched as Zephyr went through their regular show wrap up. Only now did he realize how hot his face was. He made his dumb little fantasy come true, if not in the exact way he’d imagined it. And they came out of the horrible first half of their show unscathed. That’s all he could ask for.

“I suppose that about does it then,” they said, fully back in the swing of things. “Thanks for spending some time with me tonight. And remember, there’s beauty in the darkness, if you’re willing to let it in. Goodnight, and I’ll see you next week.”

The screen went black yet again, and Nate switched off the TV. He had to try to sleep. But between the coffee and what just happened, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get there.

At least he’d have a hell of a story to tell his sister tomorrow.

[willtheweaver]

OC questionaire tag

Thanks for the tag @illarian-rambling @honeybewrites @somethingclevermahogony

My questions are:

1. What piece of fashion do you hate?

2. What’s your lazy meal?

3. Do you take naps?

4. If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

5. What is your favorite kind of bread?

6. If you had to change currency to something that wasn’t paper money, coins, or crypto, what would it be?

7. What past mistake do you most regret?

8. How would you spend your ideal evening?

9. If you had to change your name, what new name would you choose?

Let’s hear from the MC from A Feather in the Forest:

1. What piece of fashion do you hate?

Fen: Anything overly flashy or elaborate. I just don’t see the point of wearing something that gets ruined if a single speck of dirt gets on it. Also, some of those garments can be quite heavy.

2. What is your lazy meal?

Fen: Simple. I toast some bread, and top it with some preserve or fresh fruit.

3. Do you take naps?

Fen: Occasionally. Usually when I’m really tired because I worked hard and/or I can’t sleep due to strange dreams.

4. If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

Fen: Superpowers? Well shapeshifting would be useful; I would no longer need to hide.

5. What is your favorite kind of bread?

Fen: Oat for sure.

6. If you had to change your currency to something that wasn’t paper money,coins, or crypto, what would it be?

Fen: You must not be from around here. There is no fixed monetary system. Trade is done through the exchange of goods and/or labor. A standardized currency would be a vast improvement, but so far none of the villages can agree upon a a base value, or even what the currency should be made of.

7. What past mistake do you most regret?

Fen: I don’t know if there is a mistake that I did that I regret per se…guess I’m just too young to have done anything incredibly stupid.

8. How would you spend your ideal evening?

Fen: I would keep things simple. Watch the sun set, maybe play a little in the stream. Wouldn’t say no to having Playa around.

9. If you had to change your name, what name would you choose?

Fen: If I had to change my name, I would choose something like Art, or Bran, or Brook.

Gently tagging @literarynecromancy @ahordeofwasps @moltenwrites @thatuselesshuman @mk-writes-stuff

@revenantlore @finickyfelix @fourwingedwriter @thepeculiarbird @autism-purgatory

@dyrewrites @leahnardo-da-veggie and open tag

Your questions are:

1. Are you the kind of person that gets seasick (or motion sickness in general) easily?

2. Is there any situation where stealing would be justifiable?

3. If you were a teacher/professor/ private tutor, what subject would you teach?

[scaly-freaks]

The wolf den is one of my favorite books. Really changed the way I write relationships and characters.

(Your) Amara is such a lovable character. You write her with so much love and your love and care for her really shines through in the story. Her vulnerabilities and strength makes her so easy to love and genuinely relate to. She’s a uch a cool and unique character. I’m a huge Amara fan

I’m absolutely loving Alys and Amara ! They’re so weird and adorable? That scene where Alys is acting all creepy imitating aegon and Amara’s like “omg that’s so cool I want to be a witch” was kind of wholesome. I know that Alys and Larys are probably playing some bigger game, but I’m hoping that Alys could be a friend to Amara.

And poor little Jaehaerys and jaehaera!!! As much as I believe that aegon genuinely loves his children, at this point he kind of sees them as cute toys and not as actual human beings. I’m not justifying him separating Amara from Jaehaera, but I also don’t think he understands the severity of his actions - for both Amara and jaehaera - who needs her mom!

Aegon leaving his kids to the nannies was so sad. Alicent’s gone and Amara is banned from seeing jaehaera. But Amara and Jaehaerys bonding was adorable.

Aegon is being his usual self, making everyone’s life miserable because he feels rejected by someone he loves. He’s really not as smart as he thinks he is. Getting a new lover to make Amara jealous? He has tried that before and it didn’t work!! He’s just reaffirming her belief that she shouldn’t let herself love him.

Aahh thank you so much :')

I hear so many i don't read OC fics and urgh I hate OC fics they're just author self-inserts so it made me a little 'eh' about it at first. I think OCs are fucking amazing, and they may start out as author self-inserts but as they experience more of the plot, they take on a life of their own, so I really don't understand the vitriol against them. Besides, all literature is author self-insert to an extent. It is coming out of someone's brain, and you expect it not to be coloured with who they are as a person? Don't be daft. Even y/n fiction is author self-insert because they're the ones writing it.

Though I suppose I understand any objections if the OC in question is a Targaryen sister/daughter, rides three dragons, kills Alicent and Alys Rivers and Aegon, rides Aemond, makes Rhaenyra queen, and then becomes queen herself.

Not to get kinky over the Alys-Amara thing (age gap...I support this one), but I had this vivid scene in my head where she and Amara...you know, do stuff, and in the middle of it, Alys starts speaking with Aegon's voice, so it's like he's there with them. And it wreaks havoc on Amara, and she orgasms almost immediately with Alys between her legs (and Aegon's voice down there too...okay I'll stop). Anyway, I bet Amara would be the first to try and suggest Alys fucks the pair of them together, and I don't know how Aegon feels about sharing but I hope he says yes (it'd be the first time he actually sees Amara being pleasured by someone else, whereas she's seen him literally pounding Mirian).

Aegon absolutely loves his children, and I think is afraid his inactivity in regards to them will turn him into Viserys 2.0. But being too proactive is also detrimental as we're now seeing. I do headcanon that both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys grow up to be very violent people, but they actively understand their father and in an almost sociopathic way, hide the worst of themselves from him so he never suspects a thing. Everyone else suffers, but Aegon of course believes his own kids (ironically, he does turn into Viserys but just takes a different road).

"Aegon is being his usual self, making everyone’s life miserable because he feels rejected by someone he loves." I love this because yep, exactly. He can be very clever when he wants to be, but not when he's clouded by love, and the need to be loved the way he loves others. He thinks just because someone isn't crawling all over him and whimpering and blubbering the way he devolves to, that means they don't love him as much. He's not good at empathy, which is something I wrote in specifically as part of his canon character being raised as a prince. It was just a bit of fun. Of course it was, Aegon. It was fun for you, but you don't understand how it couldn't possibly be fun for someone else.

I didn't want to fall into the trap of getting Amara to "fix" him though, so she makes her own mistakes in regards to his behaviour, and then suffers/makes him suffer. She still doesn't get why he acts the way he does, but sometimes it clicks and she does what's best for herself (as she should).

[remremsies]

Gang I’ve been gone for a while again I’m so sorry😔

I decided to come back and show y’all my OC who I’ll use while playing Our life now&forever!

Soo first I should warn you that there will be mild mentions of mental health issues and SH‼️ If these things trigger you, please skip my STEP 2 text or do not read this at all. It isn’t anything big, but I don’t want anyone to feel anxious while reading this🫶

Here it starts (I apologize for any grammar mistakes, English is not my first language)

Her name is Rosemary Salmonbay and some might say her surname is silly, but it’s a literal translation of my own surname! I love it, hehe. So, Rosemary is heavily inspired of my own life and almost just me. I made Rosemary a long time ago to make little stories that were inspired of my life and just as a way to cope. But she’s not 100% me either, because that would make me feel uncomfortable lmao.

I used picrew‼️ This is Toon Me!

STEP 1:

Rosemary is an awkward, shy and silly kid. An outcast, kind of. She’s very into anime, games and drawing. At first not very talkative and finds new people scary, but once you get closer to her she becomes very loud and energetic.

Rosemary enjoys playing outside with dolls, especially Monster High dolls and even dressing up as these characters. She likes drawing them a lot and making new outfits for them. Usually her doll plays are enspired by the games and animes she enjoyed.

She liked games that many other kids didn’t back then, such as Ib. Animes she watched were Ouran High School Host Club and Death Note.

As you can notice from the picture, she didn’t have much fashion sense because she just wore whatever felt comfortable and looked cool. Shirts with Mickey Mouse, Youtube merch and galaxy print.

Rosemary has tried many sports to have at least one hobbie, but nothing really fit her. Football was her favorite though. Rosemary was more into videogames and YouTube.

Moving to a new place made her very nervous but hopeful that she would make friends who wouldn’t judge her too much.

Rosemary gets called Rose, Rosie, Roses, etc. So many different nicknames and sometimes it annoys her, but doesn’t really stop anyone. She’s a bit bigger than other kids, which always made her feel embarrassed. A bit taller than most kids and didn’t like her tummy:(

STEP 2:

These years were the hardest for Rosemary, because she was very lost, didn’t know who was her true friends and even has some issues with her mother. But mostly Rosemary battles with herself during this time.

Now, Rosemary tries her best to stay away from any spotlight and has only few close friends. She doesn’t want any conflicts, so she has a hard time choosing sides whenever a classmates would have drama.

Rosemary’s escape is music and dancing now. She’s very into K-pop and J-pop during this time and has kind of dropped her old gamer and anime loving self. Though, she still misses those times when it was okay for her to be ”cringe”.

Her mental health declines rather harshly, even making her harm herself in certain ways to relieve overwhelming emotions. She usually regrets doing it afterwards, because it’s hard to hide and it makes her vulnerable.

Even though Rosemary says that she isn’t trying to fit in and is genuinely herself, it’s most likely a lie. She indeed is just trying to somehow fit in and make others happy. Rosemary starts wearing clothes that show off her body more in hopes of making herself like the cool girls and tries to learn makeup.

Rosemary gets more into studying herself and understand that maybe, just maybe this isn’t truly her. So, in subtle ways she tries to show her true self (such as jewelry). Rosemary accepted herself as pansexual/romantic already when she was 12, but for a long while she questions her gender. Being a girl feels right but also empty, being a boy is too much for her and nonbinary isn’t right either. But, she tries to ignore it.

She’s still rather chubby and hates it. It causes her to wear more ’boring’ clothes, because she thinks they won’t show others her bigger body. Rosemary only accepts Rose nickname during this time.

STEP 3:

Everything kind of starts making sense now. Rosemary is gaining confidence and got professional help for her problems. She accepts her actual style and doesn’t wear ’boring’ clothes anymore.

She’s still awkward and kind of anti-social, but tries her best and is more laid-back now. Rosemary only goes with her kind of people now and won’t force herself to fit in.

They also got back into gaming, anime and even started cosplaying sometimes! They still sometimes listen to K-pop and J-pop but more for nostalgia and during rough times. They’re also into makeup and fashion now, especially fashion styles from Japan.

Did you notice how I used they pronoun for Rosemary? Well, they finally realized and accepted themself as a demigirl! Rosemary prefers she/they pronouns but doesn’t really care if anyone uses he.

Rosemary isn’t entirely happy with her body still and also feels kind of lost, but is slowly and surely getting better. She’s trying to live healthy now, not working out to lose weight but to love her body no matter how chubby she was.

A bit more confident in themself, but still has ways to go and a lot to learn. They aren’t 100% certain what they want to do in the future, but ha some ideas.

That was all I have for her now! I haven’t made one for Step 4 yet, but I’ll work on it. I’ll probably post more about her as well and maybe change some things. This is kind of like a first draft, but I doubt I’ll change anything drastically.

[the-golden-comet]

✨OC Interaction Tag✨

Thank you @willtheweaver for this tag here ✨

Your OC: Leif

Leif is a senior hunter for Fernstan village. As he spends most of his time out in the forest, he rarely interacts with the other foxes of the village, apart from other hunters and the border guards. His honesty can sometimes cross over to bluntness, and his social interaction can leave a lot to be desired. Some members of the village also go out of their way to avoid interacting with Leif as he is an agnostic. Even with these shortcomings, his skills as a hunter and tracker are impressive, and the village elders have entrusted him with training new hunters and guiding them on their first hunt. He does not play favorites and is considered strict but fair. Although he does not show it, he deeply cares for those under his charge, and will do what he can to ensure their success.

My OC: Tenshi

Tenshi is a 431 year old celestial archangel (still a youngster. Translates to 20 in Earth Realm), son of the sun goddess Amaterasu. One of the powers bestowed upon him during the immaculate conception was the Gift of Raiden—so, he is attuned to lightning. His brothers, the Archangels, were tasked with training Tenshi and honing his righteous power in order to protect the Earth Realm….but the methods of the Seven Archangels were a bit….harsh.

Tenshi, finally growing impatient with his lack of progress, escapes the Heavenly Realms to hide on Earth from his brothers. Donning a mortal disguise, he lands in a futile forest in Japan, hitting just about every branch on the way down (he’s fine). Now, finally a “human,” he is free to explore the Earth Realm, practice his powers in secret, all while trying to maintain a low profile so his brothers don’t find, catch, and drag him back to the Heavenly Realms.

Their Interaction:

Now THIS is an interesting pair indeed! Tenshi, trying to hide his celestial nature, runs into Leif as a mentor hunter in the woods. Tenshi lives in a forest where Shintoistic happenings occur as typical as a Sunday morning, so this checks out. Since Tenshi is used to looking for mentor figures, he would respectfully listen to Leif and regard him as his senior, open to train under his authority. However, I feel Leif would start to get suspicious as soon as Tenshi excels beyond what could be reasonable for a “person” his stature.

Tenshi meanwhile would be panicking because he doesn’t want to be found out. Once he hears that Leif is agnostic, he breathes a sigh of relief: “whew, okay. Good. He won’t suspect me, then. Just play it cool, act normal. Act HUMAN….er…how would a human respond here?✨”

That was fun! I’m leaving the tag +open for anyone wishing to interact with Tenshi some more 💖💫

[writerfae]

Hi!

So, I just now noticed that the link for The first regents of fae alignments was working, and I read what their each of their regalia can do, and I have a lot of thoughts!

(I apologize if I misspelled any names)

First:

Cathan's is a bow and arrow that never misses... do I remember correctly that you said Rook and his relationship was similar to Henry and Aiden? Because if so, then: OH MY GOD!

Even if I don't: someone give that thing to Aiden! Let him play with it!

Second:

I would like Brynn's dagger that never strikes down someone innocent, please! That one's my favorite, I think.

It also got me thinking about what regalia my ocs would want/have, and I think it's really interesting:

Starting with Endre:

While I don't think I would actually give him one since he's magic is already so powerful by itself I will say that Caitria's shield that can cast a protective barrier kinda does a similar thing to Endre's wings:

They say that even one triarhist can grow their wings to be so large that they can hide the whole country behind them.

A triarhist's first and most important job is to protect. Even beyond that, Endre is a very protective person. If someone he loves is having problems, he tries to step in to help.

Ákos:

Fionn's spear that always spends warmth and light.

While Ákos doesn't know how to use a spear that well, some of his fondest memories are when Bendegúz showed him how to use his spear. Not only that, but what he learned from Bendegúz came in very handy in the Black swamp.

The Black swamp is cold, wet, and endlessly dark. When Adél and Bendegúz found him and finally warmed him up, that was one of the best feelings in the world. A feeling that I'm sure he'd want to share with others, too. That's why i'd give him the spear.

Bendegúz:

Bendegúz is a fighter, yes, but despite the fact that he jokes about fighting people constantly, when it comes down to it he is one of the first people to take a situation seriously (even if he continues to joke around).

Also, to him, wielding a weapon isn't just about conquering an enemy. It can be fun and creative.

This is why I think he'd either have Rook's sword or Cathan's bow and arrow. I think he'd use them quite wisely and creatively

Adél:

For Adél I actually think what would be fun if she was actually in a position like Cryptan, someone who serves her king, maybe even as a guard (Bendegúz in this case, because I think it'd be fun switching up which one of them is royalty)

(Though she'd look magnificent with Rook's sword)

Bonus:

Someone give Odette the dagger for dramatic irony

Hi! I only fixed the link yesterday, actually! It took me forever to find that damn post. I don’t even know if it’s still correct, there might’ve been some changes, but I need to check that first…

You do remember correctly! Rook and Cathan were pretty close. They liked to go hunting together, the bow came in quite handy there.

The dagger is a good choice! Then again, all are. I’d rather go for the shield, personally.

It’s interesting to see what regalia your ocs would want! The only remaining question now is what they would get, since the regalia were a gift from the gods and therefore couldn’t be chosen! The first regents all got the regalia that fits best to them.

I think since Odette is more than willing to sacrifice innocent people, the dagger would refuse her. That mindset, however noble the intentions might be, is completely against the nature of the dagger. So I’m not sure if she’d get to keep it 🙈

[wild-karrde]

Part 3: The Jester

Series Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: Soooo uhhh... here's Part 3, featuring my favorite boy Chuckles. If you're new, Chuckles has his own fic, One Step at a Time, but I figured it was time he gets some *ahem* love. If you know what I mean. THANK YOU to @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this for me and screaming with me about the boys. There is absolutely going to be a Part 4, and it will be longer.

Pairings: OC Crater x f!Reader, OC Chuckles x f!Reader, mentioned Gregor x f!Reader

Fic Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE)

Warnings: language, fingering, PiV sex, anal play, mention of cum eating, marking, sex toy use, mention of foursome (in case you were wondering what Part 4 might entail)

Word Count: 6.5k words

Weeks pass with you and Crater continuing to meet in secret. He already reads you so easily, knowing what you need and when you need it with a shared glance or a subtle touch. There are nights he practically peels you apart until you’re laid bare for him, shuddering in the aftermath of however many orgasms he deemed necessary, but there are also nights where you don’t have sex at all, just enjoying one another’s company like you always have. 

Tonight seems as though it’ll be the latter. It’s been a hard week with too many fighters going out and too few returning. Crater’s even lost a few brothers, and yet, somehow, he decided you were the one that needed consoling, showing up late in the evening with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Now, you sit perched on your desk with him in your rickety chair, the two of you a respectable distance apart as you sip the amber liquid in your glasses. Some of his men are still milling around in the hangar outside of your office, and you wonder if it’s to avoid going back to barracks that will be emptier than they were a week ago. You spy Strike, Chuckles, Guin, and even the medics Sticks and Stones speaking quietly to each other. Chuckles catches your eye for a moment before turning and speaking to one of the droids working on his fighter. His words don’t carry to you, but you can see how tired he looks. Grief is a part of the job, but it takes a toll regardless.

Crater’s quiet, his eyes more distant than usual. You suspect he’s doing the same thing as his brothers, biding his time until he’ll be too tired to count the empty bunks and think of their previous occupants. He’s lost fewer men than most, but you know each one weighs heavily on him. 

“Rough week,” you murmur, staring into your glass. Not a strong start to a conversation, but you hope it’ll open the door for your friend if he needs it. 

“Heard special ops might be back on Coruscant soon,” he notes, purposefully ignoring your statement as he swirls his whiskey. You take the hint, adjusting accordingly.

“Oh?”

“Gregor commed last night. Asking to meet up at 79s when he gets back. Couldn’t give an exact timeframe other than ‘soon’. Sounds like things haven’t gone great for him either the last little bit.” 

You hum under your breath. In the chaos of the last week, you’ve hardly thought of the commando. A small pang of guilt settles into your stomach. You still wouldn’t say you like him, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t worry about him. You’re glad to hear he’s safe. 

Crater’s studying you, and you meet his gaze. 

“What?”

“He asked how you were.”

Your entire body suddenly feels warmer, and you take a sip of your drink to try and hide it, even though you know that won’t work with Crater. 

“You gonna see him?” he asks.

You shrug. “Dunno.”

“I won’t be jealous.”

You smirk into your glass. “Wasn’t particularly worried about that.��� 

Crater taps his fingers on the arm of the chair. “You given any thought to what I mentioned a while back? With him and Chuckles?” 

A jolt of electricity licks up your spine as the memory takes hold of you. You laying on your bed with Crater’s cock buried deep in your ass while he fucks you into your mattress, sweat slicking your skin as he whispers filth in your ear. 

“I bet you’d love to have Gregor’s cock in here too. Maybe he takes your sweet little cunt while I pound your ass. But that still leaves your mouth. Maybe I get Chuckles in here to fuck that smart little mouth while Gregor and I take you. Would you like that, pretty girl? To be ruined by three men at once?”

Yeah, you’ve given that plenty of thought. 

You shift as your cunt clenches around nothing, and Crater huffs before taking another drink. 

“You want me to talk to him and Chuck?”

You catch your lip between your teeth. “If you did, I’d want the rules to be the same as they are with us. And we’d need to be careful.”

“Of course.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lowering his voice. “I’d already planned on making the ground rules clear if you wanted me to approach them. They’ll know the limits and boundaries. The big thing I need to know from you is what you are looking to get out of it. How you’d want it to go.” 

You allow your gaze to drift back out to where Chuckles is standing with his brothers. 

There’s always been something between you and Chuck, although neither of you have ever made a move to explore it more. You’ve often found yourself snuggling into his side at 79s, even sitting on his lap a few nights, his hand settling protectively on your lower back as the two of you cackle uproariously at whatever antics are taking place around you. But you’d never thought there was anything more to chase after. Especially not after some of the fights you’ve had. And he’s never approached you, not like Gregor or Crater have, so you’ve always assumed there isn’t much interest on his part. But still, you know you trust him. And if you’re honest, before Crater came along, when you were alone in your bunk at night with your fingers buried in your cunt, it was a different member of the 28th who you cried out to as you came undone. 

Crater’s staring at you, waiting for your response, and the corner of his mouth twitches, as if he can read your mind. You stutter out a response, hoping to distract him and derail your thoughts of Chuckles.

“I’d want… I’d want it to be something to blow off steam. I’m not really looking to be romanced or anything.”

“You never are.” 

You huff indignantly and toss a wadded up piece of flimsi at him. He catches it, eyes boring into you. You haven’t said exactly what you desire, and he knows it. His voice is a low rasp, and you feel your face heat even though you are certain no one outside of the office can hear him. 

“Ask for what you want, pretty girl.”

“I-I want it to be rough. I want the three of you to use me. I’d want to feel it the next day. I want to get out of my head, and help you all do that as well.”

Crater watches you for another moment before leaning back in the chair. “I think we can manage that. I’ll talk to them both when Gregor is planetside. If that’s what you want.”

It’s his last check for your confirmation, ensuring you’re really all in on this. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “It is.” 

He nods. “Good. Now, what do you need tonight?” 

You’re taken aback. You didn’t think he’d be up for anything right now, and you certainly weren’t about to ask, but his posture has shifted to something less rigid. His legs are splayed a little wider, and he seems more relaxed, and now you find yourself wondering if this isn’t just for your benefit. He’s relaxed with you, and maybe you can finally help him for once, taking him out of his head in the same way he does to you. You don’t want him thinking about empty bunks or burning fighters. 

You hop off the desk, standing over him until you have one of his thighs straddled between your knees. 

“I need you to take what you want from me, Crater. And then I need you to sleep here with me.” 

He knows what you’re doing, and you think he’s going to push back on the second half of your request for a moment. Instead, he tosses back the rest of his whiskey without breaking eye contact, letting one hand drift to your thigh, gripping you firmly and rubbing circles with his thumb against the fabric of your jumpsuit. 

“Alright. Close the door then.” 

You step away from him and head towards the entrance to your office. You can see the hangar has mostly emptied now, with the final few stragglers heading for the exit. Chuckles is among them, the last one out. As you go to shut your door, he turns back and meets your eyes. You can see his gaze flick to Crater, still in your office, before it moves back to meet your face. There’s something in those familiar brown irises that you can’t identify, and you briefly consider calling out to him. But before you can make up your mind, he puts on his helmet and leaves. 

Something in your stomach twinges, but you ignore it. 

You shut the door.

—

A few rotations later, you’re in your office when there’s a soft knock at the door. 

“Come in.”

Crater enters, helmet still on. 

“You busy?” 

“No more than usual,” you reply without looking up from the datapad you’re punching away on.

He doesn’t remove his helmet. “Color?” His voice is lower in the modulator, almost as if he’s whispering. 

You inhale sharply, finally looking up at him. His head is tilted to the side, evaluating you. He’s never come to you in the middle of the day before. And you suddenly realize why he’s probably here.

“Green,” you breathe.

He closes and locks the door, and without another word, he goes to your makeshift bedroom, returning a moment later with your plug. 

“Strip and bend over the desk.” 

You can’t shuck off the top of your jumpsuit fast enough, dragging your panties with it to your knees and bending over. You rest your elbows on the wooden surface as you have many times before with him, unleashing a shuddering exhale as he comes to stand behind you.

“Gregor’s back,” he rasps as he pulls your top desk drawer open, retrieving the bottle of lube you’ve hidden there for your more impromptu encounters in your office. You hear it click open, and you shudder with anticipation. “Chatted with him and Chuckles this morning. If you’re still alright with it, we’ll be by this evening after Gregor and I get out of our briefings.” 

“Lucky for you, my schedule is clear,” you tease. You and Crater both know you hardly ever have plans. 

He dips his helmet in a nod. His gloved hand comes to rest on your back, arching it slightly until your ass is presented to him. You feel some lube dribble onto your asshole, and you shudder at the chill as he presses the plug against you, working it in and out of you slowly until it’s fully nestled inside of you. 

“If I had time, I’d break you in myself right now, but that’ll have to wait until tonight. Leave that in,” he growls. “And wear something nice.” 

“Yes, sir,” you pant. You don’t know how you’re going to get through the next few hours like this. 

“And don’t you dare go back there and touch yourself,” he warns. 

You whine. 

“I’ll see you tonight, pretty girl.” And with that, he slips out of your office, leaving you stripped bare and bent over your desk, trying to catch your breath. You slam the button under your desk that locks the door again, bracing yourself on your palms as you try to get your legs to stop quivering at the feeling of the plug pressed inside you. 

Fuck. 

You stumble into your back room on wobbly legs, wanting desperately to climb into your bed and stuff your pussy full with your vibrator. But Crater always knows somehow when you disobey him. Last time, he tied you up with some silk rope and toyed with you until you cried and begged for release. The rope was still tucked in your bedside drawer, a silent threat.

Not what I’m looking for tonight. More hoping for instant gratification. So I’ll behave. This time.

You quickly dig through your crate of clothes, finally finding the parcel you’d purchased a while back. Ever since you and Crater started sleeping together, you’ve tried to find a few more pieces of lingerie to add to your sparse wardrobe. Nothing expensive since you’re on a budget and Crater has a penchant for tearing delicate fabrics, but this one you’ve been saving for a special occasion. It’s a dark grey bra and panty set that matches the grey accents on the 28th Combat Wing’s armor perfectly. The lace tickles your skin as you pull it on, and you glance at yourself in the mirror briefly, admiring the way your breasts are pushed together. A tiny fake gemstone sits embedded on a charm that dangles between your breasts. It’s a deep magenta, the main color of the 28th. It really had been too ideal to pass up.

Perfect. 

You pull your jumpsuit back on, trying not to think too hard about how full you feel as you recompose yourself and step back out into the garage. 

The hours drag on. For better or worse, no one really bothers you, and you are able to mostly remain in your office, leaving you squirming in private as you try to get through your paperwork while not thinking about how tonight's going to go. When you finally hear the main lighting systems begin to power off, signaling the end of the day, you can’t help but sigh in relief. Stretching your arms above your head, you stand, heading out in the garage to make sure everything got put away properly at the end of the day and that all of the droids made it back to their docks. 

It’s almost deafeningly silent in the darkness, and you keep to the path illuminated by the emergency lighting, taking your usual route through the hangar. Everything looks to be in order until a loud clanging sound makes you jump. 

You halt and hear another loud clatter followed by a few muttered curses and some indignant beeping, making you pause in the darkness. Under one of the emergency light beams, you spot movement. A mohawked head pokes up out of a cockpit of a Headhunter, and you watch as a tool is tossed out of the fighter, hitting the floor with a loud clang right next to a borderline belligerent droid. You sigh, heading over to see what the fuss is about. 

Chuckles is hunched over in his Z-95, muttering to himself as you quietly ascend the stepladder he’s pulled up next to the fighter. His armor is stacked on the ground next to the ladder, and as you reach the top step, you see he’s changed into a black tank top rather than his regulation undershirt with the Republic cog emblazoned across the chest. He’s leaning forward, giving you a view of some of the lines of the tattoo on his shoulder blade, flexing in the dim lighting as he grumbles unintelligibly. His arms and shoulders have several long, deep scars on them, more than Crater or any other pilot you’ve seen. Even his knuckles and fingers have a few light patches where the skin has had to heal. You wonder what caused them, and wonder if it’s tied to the large scar on his face. He’s burrowed under the flight controls, unaware of your presence, and you watch him for a few moments before leaning forward. 

“Can I help you with something?” you ask at a volume that’s slightly louder than necessary. 

Chuck jumps, smacking his head on the underside of the console with a loud curse. You giggle as he sits back in the seat, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at you. 

“What the kriff, Bolts?”

“I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing in here?” 

“My karking eject handle isn’t working.”

“You know you shouldn’t pull that in the garage, right?”

He glares at you again. “I’m well aware. But I can’t even get it primed. Something’s jammed.” 

You raise an eyebrow down at the droid, R0-G3, that’s parked just below, who beeps to inform you he was in the process of repairing it when Chuckles showed up. 

“Why can’t you let Rog do it? That’s his job.” 

Rog beeps angrily in agreement, and Chuckles glowers at him. “He said he wasn’t going to finish it until tomorrow, and I won’t have time to check it tomorrow before we head out the next day.” 

The droid beeps again, flashing his charge indicator, which is warning him it’s starting to get low. It seems he’s expended a good chunk of energy arguing with the pilot. You chew the inside of your cheek, something telling you there’s more to the story here. 

“Why do you need to check it? Don’t trust the quality of work around here?”

Chuckles freezes, unable to meet your eyes. “Of course I do. It’s not that, it’s just…” He sits back heavily in the seat, his eyes fluttering closed as he releases a long sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. You jerk your head at R0-G3, and he takes his leave, rolling off towards the far door that leads to the chargers. You lean on the edge of the cockpit, resting your chin on your forearms. 

“Alright. You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not especially,” he mumbles from beneath his fingers. 

You pick at some of the paint that’s peeling along one metal seam, changing tacks. “Crater talked to you about tonight, right?” 

One of his eyes appears between his fingers, locking with yours. “Yeah. He said you’re onboard with it. That you asked.” For a moment, his gaze is as piercing as his brother’s, and you fight the urge to squirm as he analyzes you.

“I did.” 

He hums, letting his hands drop to his lap and studying you. “I need to get this fixed tonight. Don’t really want to get into specifics. Just needs to be done. Even if I miss…all that.” 

You nod, noting the way his fingers brush the scar on his cheek that you’d always thought of as sort of his trademark. The damaged skin seems to pull his mouth into a perpetual smirk, but to you it has always been obvious that the event that caused it was anything but joyous. 

“If that’s the case, then we’d really better get this fixed,” you conclude, and before he can protest, you scale the rest of the ladder and climb into the cockpit with him, settling into his lap. He inhales sharply, and you wiggle your hips a little bit more than necessary as you duck under the console, pressing your ass against where his codpiece would normally be. It doesn’t take long before you feel something else that’s hard as plastoid pressing against you. 

“BOLTS! Maker almighty, what the kriff are you doing?”

“Helping you fix your ship. That’s my job.” 

You pull a penlight from your breast pocket and click it on, turning upside down to examine the eject mechanism under the seat. Everything looks normal. 

“Try to arm it for me.” 

Chuck sighs above you, but leans over you, one hand resting on your hip as the other flicks the eject switch on his console. You see the indicator light blink green, and you cautiously reach your hand out to the handle. 

“There should be a little give if it’s actually disengaged,” Chuckles says. “If there’s no give, then it’s not actually armed.” 

You gingerly tap the handle, and he’s right, the thing doesn’t budge a millimeter. 

“Hm.” You trace the connection along the floorboards, following it under the flight console to where you originally found Chuck. “Can you hand me the driver that’s in my right back pocket?” you ask. 

He huffs. 

“It’s right there, Chuckles. And if Crater actually talked to you, that’s going to be one of the more tame things you’re doing tonight.” 

You feel his cock jump where it’s pressed against your ass, and you playfully grind backwards a bit. The grip on your hips tightens, and Chuck huffs again before you feel a tug on your back pocket and the tool is thrust under the panel at you. 

“See, teamwork makes the dream work,” you snicker. You can practically feel his eyes roll at you, but he doesn’t say anything else. 

It only takes you a few moments to pry the panel loose and find the wiring. You can’t keep from wiggling and pressing back into Chuckles, and about the fifth time you do, you swear you feel him grind against you, but you ignore it, focused on your task. 

You finally find the source of the issue, a broken connection in the wiring, and you tap his thigh, reaching behind you again. “Soldering iron. Other back pocket.” He hands it to you without protest this time, and within a few moments, you’ve got the connection fixed and look back between your and Chuck’s boots at the indicator light for the eject. It’s still on, but this time, when you tap the handle, there’s give. You sit up, your hair flying in every direction, grinning triumphantly. “Think I got it, but double-check that’s what you’re looking for.” 

Chuckles leans over you, but without you climbing out of the cockpit, there’s not much room. He winds up practically doubled over you, his breath hot against the back of your neck as his fingers find the handle. You watch him give a slight tug, just enough to move it slightly. 

“That’s it,” he says directly into your ear. “Perfect.” There’s a pause before he leans a little more forward and kisses your cheek. “Thanks, Bolts.” 

Your face flushes with heat as he sits back, which feels ridiculous. This man is going to claim every part of you later if things go to plan, but here you are, giddy over a kiss on the cheek. “No problem,” you murmur, keeping your voice steady despite your fluttering stomach. “Now make sure it’s off so we don’t both get thrown out of here.” 

You hear him huff a laugh as he leans forward and disarms the eject while you clamber back under the console to replace the panel. Once that’s done, you sit back against him, propping one foot up and allowing your head to drift back against his shoulder. 

As much as you two bicker like drunken Jawas sometimes, Chuckles has always been your friend, another person you trust, even if you want to push him in front of a speeder at times. He takes your tools from you, carefully setting them on the top of the ladder before wrapping one arm around your waist, hesitantly letting the other hand rest on your thigh. 

A silence settles between you two as you sit pressed together. You allow your hand to drift over his, resting there, and he presses his cheek against your forehead. You can feel the day-old scruff against your skin. His chest rises and falls, pressing against you, and with every passing breath, the anticipation seems to grow, making the air around you feel charged with electricity. This isn’t the first time you’ve sat like this with him, but normally, it’s done out of necessity, squishing together in a booth as more brothers arrive at 79s. Chuck’s hand has often found a place on your thigh, resting comfortably there. It thrilled you in the past, even though you’d always figured it would go no further.

You both know tonight is different. 

Finally, he breaks the silence. 

“So why me?” he asks. “Gregor and you needed to fuck it out. Crater’s… well he’s Crater. But why involve me?” 

You reach up, letting your hand rest against his unmarred cheek. He doesn’t pull away, but watches you carefully. “Because I trust you, Chuckles. You’re right, Gregor started as a way to blow off steam. And so did Crater. But I wanted to… explore something, and Crater and I both agreed you and Gregor are the ones to explore with. I know whatever happens tonight will stay between us and won’t wind up scratched into a ‘fresher stall at 79s.” You swallow hard. “And… I care about you, more than I think you realize.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You sigh. “Do you trust me?”

His brows knit together. “Of course.”

“With your life?”

“Where’s this going, Bolts?”

You interlace your fingers with his. “Did you know, I check every fighter that leaves this place myself? That is what’s going to happen tomorrow night before your squad leaves the following morning. I will be up all night if I have to, double-checking every millimeter of your fighter to make sure it’s up to snuff and will bring you back here.” You pause again, meeting his eyes. “Bring you back here to me.” 

Something shifts in his gaze, and his expression softens. He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “The eject didn’t work right when I got this,” he says quietly, tapping his scarred cheek. “I was in an uncontrolled spin, losing altitude, and no matter how hard I pulled, the damn thing wouldn’t work. When it finally did work, it launched me into the canopy, and that’s when I got cut. Broke more bones than I can count. Punctured a lung. And then I hit the water. Thought I was going to drown because I was too hurt to swim, and water was just leaking into my mouth through my cheek. It… it was the most scared I’ve ever been. I don’t want that to ever happen again. If I go out, I want it to be quick. I-I don’t want to have time to think about it. So, I always check.” 

Your chest aches as you turn in his lap to straddle him, bringing your hands up to cradle his face, finally running your thumb along the raised skin on his cheek where the canopy’s transparisteel sliced him open. His eyes bore into you for a moment before he closes them, relaxing into your touch. Your heart twists at the thought of him, broken and bloodied in the seas of Kamino with his face flayed open, certain he’s going to die. 

You kiss him. 

It’s gentle and tender. There will be time for hunger and urgency later, but right now, you want to reassure him. You want him to know how much he means to you, that you care for him, and above all, you want him to know that he can trust you. 

And something sparks within you as he kisses you back. 

He’s careful and slow, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Warmth floods through you as he hesitantly traces his tongue along your lower lip, and you allow him entry, burying one hand in his short mohawk and cupping his jaw with the other. He probes your mouth gently, and you feel him melt into you, his grip loosening on you but still keeping you pressed against him. You’ve kissed Crater, hells, you’ve even kind of kissed Gregor, but nothing felt like this. Chuckles is consuming you, and you know you could easily get lost in him just like this. You want to, but after a few moments, you rest your forehead against his, stroking his cheek gently. “I will never let that happen to you again, Chuckles. Ever. You are too important to me.” 

He meets your gaze for a few moments, and something unspoken flickers in his eyes before his face breaks out into a grin. “You know, if I’d known all this, I might have tried to get you out of that jumpsuit sooner.” 

You understand what he’s doing; he’s not good with sentimentality. He’s always dealt with humor. He’s allowed his jester’s mask to drop more than he ever has before, and you will treasure the trust he put in you in that instant, but if he’d allowed the moment to linger, it wouldn’t be Chuckles. 

But you also can’t deny that you already want to kiss him again. 

Instead, you roll your eyes, turning around to face forward once more and resting your back against his chest. His hands slide down to your hips, and you feel him readjust. He’s still hard as durasteel, maybe more so now. You give a playful grind, and he gasps behind you. 

“You’re playing dirty, Bolts,” he growls in your ear.

“I thought you liked it dirty. Weren’t you the one just talking about getting me out of my clothes?” 

His fingers slide to your stomach, tracing the zipper of your jumpsuit upwards until he snags the tab up by your throat. “Indeed I was.” He playfully nips at your earlobe, pulling you closer with his other arm. “You got any cameras in here?” 

“I’m flattered you think I have that kind of budget.” 

He tugs the zipper down. “Good.” 

You lean into him, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder as he fully unzips your jumpsuit. He rests his chin on your shoulder, watching hungrily as each new centimeter of your skin is exposed to him. When the zipper is all the way down, he slips his hands inside of the rough fabric, tracing his fingers from your collarbone to your breasts before he gently cups the lacey grey garment you’ve chosen for this evening. 

“This feels rather impractical and fancy,” he hums in your ear. He pinches the charm in the middle, huffing a laugh. “Pretty though. Especially on you. Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” 

You shrug out of the top half of your suit, trying to hide the way your lips quirk at his praise and the heat in your face. He trails kisses along your bare shoulders as he helps you push the rough material downwards. “Very impractical,” you agree. “But not expensive. Meant to be ripped off of me.” 

He laughs again, a low growl that rumbles through you, and his hands are on your skin again, rough and warm as you sit nearly bare in his lap. He slips one hand inside your bra, grazing your nipple and causing you to writhe in his grip. He squeezes your breast and you moan. “Lift your hips,” he grunts in your ear, and a thrill shoots through you. You comply, and he manages to push your suit down past your knees, helping you as you kick it the rest of the way off along with your boots. You go to pull your panties down too, but he stills your hand. “Leave them on.” 

You sit back, and Chuckles immediately groans. His fingers reverently trace over your abdomen before they find their way between your legs, parting your thighs, and he inhales sharply when he feels the warm dampness there. 

“Matching panties? And you’re soaked. Bolts, you’re filthy.” 

His fingers are thick and warm against the seam of your undergarments before he slips his fingers under the lace, running his digits through your slick and bringing it to his lips. He moans as he tastes you.

“Fuck, you taste good.” 

“You wanna taste more?” you ask, quivering as his fingers glide back between your legs. 

“Not yet. Right now, I want to fuck you in this cockpit. I wanna think about how your pretty pussy feels wrapped around my cock when I’m flying.”

“Sounds distracting,” you reply in a tone far breathier than you care for. 

“I hear I think better with my dick anyway,” he counters as he toys with your clit.

“Crater said to wait for them,” you gasp, desperately clinging to the last of your resolve. 

“Since when do you take orders from the captain?” he teases, grazing his teeth along the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “I thought it was your garage, your rules.”

“Since he started leaving handprints on my ass for disobeying him.” 

He hums as he slips a finger inside you. “Seems like you want it right now though. I’d slide right in no problem with as wet as you are.” He nuzzles against your ear as he adds another digit and starts driving his fingers into you, rutting against your ass. You moan as he slips his fingers in and out of you, digging your nails into his arm. “Do you want my cock right now?” he rasps in your ear.

You hope Crater will appreciate how compromised you were later as you grind against Chuckles’s palm. 

It’s really his fault for not getting here sooner.

“I want it. I want you to fuck me,” you moan. 

“Lift your hips again for me then.”

You obey as Chuckles rolls down his pants enough to pull his cock out, pulling your panties to the side and notching himself at your entrance. You feel his knuckles graze you as he pumps himself. His other hand grips your waist. 

“Sit.” 

You sink down slowly on him, and you hear his head thunk against the headrest of the seat as you clench, gradually adjusting around him until you’re fully seated in his lap. 

“Can feel the plug in your ass,” he grits out. “Crater said you might let us all take you at once, but I didn’t think he meant there. Maker, I can’t wait to feel you.” 

You give him another squeeze, trying to pretend you have an ounce of composure as his fingers find their way back between your legs, playing with your clit. 

You’re glad the garage is empty as you and Chuckles give into your carnal desires in the seat of his cockpit. You start off grinding slowly against him, allowing your walls to adjust around his thick member before you begin carefully bouncing up and down on him, ensuring to keep the head of him inside you before you drop back down on his thighs. It doesn’t take long for the wet slaps of your cunt slamming against him and your moans to start echoing throughout the empty garage. 

He’s a talker. Of course he is. 

“Maker, Bolts. I never thought you’d let me fuck this sweet little cunt. I’ve fisted my cock so many times, thinking about what it’d feel like to have you wrapped around me like this, but you’re so much warmer and wetter than I ever could have imagined. You’re like a fucking vice. I’m gonna fill you tonight. Take you in every way I can. Fuck, how are you so soft?” He presses against the small of your back, tipping you further forward as he thrusts up into you. His fingers trace the bruises on your hips and ass. “Crater leave these?”

“Mhm,” you moan, catching your lip between your teeth as he presses gently against the marks. 

“You gonna let me leave some of my own tonight, sweetheart? Gonna let me brand you when I claim you?” 

“Fuck, yes, Chuckles.” 

He groans, gripping your hips harder. You brace yourself against the edges of the cockpit, ignoring the burning in your thighs and calves as they protest the awkward position. It’s nothing compared to the feeling of Chuckles inside of you, and right now, that’s all that matters to you as you chase your pleasure. You’ve been wound up all day, and Chuckles is finally giving you what you’d longed for, rubbing your thighs together at your desk for hours. 

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps guide you up and down. Sweat dribbles between your breasts as you ride him frantically, chasing your high. He adjusts, and suddenly he’s hitting the perfect spot inside of you. Your head tips back and your brows pinch together as you frantically roll your hips, trying to ensure the head of his cock strokes the same place again and again.

“‘M so close, Bolts. Gonna cum in this pussy right now and then gonna have you clean my cock off. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck your ass. You’re gonna be screaming my name all night, sweetheart. You close?”

You whine as he slips his hand back between your legs, circling your clit. “Yeah. Yeah I’m close.” 

“Gonna cum on my cock, Bolts?” 

“Not if she doesn’t want to get edged until she’s crying for the rest of the night,” a voice calls out from the darkness. 

You and Chuckles freeze in the cockpit as two figures step into the light: Crater, who’s glaring at you, and Gregor, wearing a cocky smirk. Both of them are stripped down to only their under suits and boots, and Gregor’s wearing a tank top of some burger joint you don’t recognize, but it shows off his arms nicely. Both of them have bedrolls slung over their shoulders. Chuckles’s thumb rubs against your hip, and you clench around him. 

“I thought I told you to behave yourself,” Crater reminds you, his tone the low and dangerous baritone you’re more than familiar with. 

“Technically, you told me not to touch myself in the backroom of my office. And I didn’t,” you reply sweetly.

“You’re right, she is a brat,” Gregor giggles. 

“Better a brat than an asshole,” you pant, ignoring how relieved you are to hear his ridiculous laugh again.

Gregor is completely unphased by your words, snickering as he climbs the ladder, leaning on the edge and looking over your body. “Good to see you too, Bolts,” he jeers, gripping your chin and kissing you. You dig your teeth into his lower lip defiantly, and he grunts. Chuckles gives an indignant huff, thrusting up into you slightly to remind you he’s still there. You squeeze him as hard as you can and he groans as you release Gregor.

“I still fucking hate you, but I’m glad you’re safe,” you mutter.

Gregor just winks at you.

“Out of the fighter, you two,” Crater growls. You playfully roll your eyes, but oblige. Chuckles gasps when his cock slips from you, still hard and now glistening from being inside of you. 

“Sorry,” you whisper teasingly. “More where that came from though. Promise.” You kiss him again before readjusting your lingerie and climbing down the ladder, coming to stand in front of Crater. His eyes are practically glowing. 

“Think you’re cute, don’t you?” he says quietly. 

You shrug. “Like I said, didn’t technically disobey.” 

His fingers reach out, toying with the charm between your breasts. “Well, we’ll see how long that technicality deprives you of an orgasm tonight.” 

You shiver but try to keep yourself composed. “Chuckles, can you hand me down my suit and boots?” 

The pilot goes to toss them to you, but Crater snatches them out of the air. “Oh no you don’t. You wanted to get out of your clothes so much, you can walk back to your office like that.” 

You open your mouth to retort, and Crater raises his eyebrow in warning. You’ve come to recognize that look and all that it entails if you keep pushing your luck, so instead, you tuck your tongue in your cheek haughtily. 

“Alright then.”

A/N: Part 4 soon... and it's gonna be another one over 10k words.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @meekaielmyersh99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

[veatomis]

hi my darling <3 can i have stillness, favourite & change for dhaeris, texture, bling & face for kyrtaar and then motion, night & favourite for arihs my beloved xoxo

hi bestie <333 thank u for enabling my insanity abt my blorbos again, love u lots <3 (also putting most of this under the read more because again. insane <3)

Dhaeris:

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

Dhaeris would play a lot with his rings and necklaces when he has to sit or stand still. I can also see him loosely stroking his own arm and he definitely stands with one hand on his pockets if he can. He likes to wear at least one item of VERY tight clothing (like corsets or leather pants) so besides those small instances of fidgeting he would be pretty still when resting, he’s definitely not pulling a Karlach.

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

Dhaeris’ favorite article of clothing is definitely his long black coat with the starry purple inner lining. It was one of the first things he ever purchased and got tailored after getting his patron and it makes him feel more confident and protected but without looking like he’s hiding behind his clothing. He doesn’t wear it all the time though, he has too many outfits to try on so the coat usually gets worn when he’s out for a job or when he needs to feel more sure of himself.

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Oh yeah, before his pact with Graz’zt he was at first bound by a serious lack of money growing up and then he was really depressed and didn’t have the energy to care about his appearance + feeling like he didn’t contribute enough to his criminal company to actually take some of the money they were making to put towards a style change. So during that period of time his hair was very straight instead of the artfully sculpted kinda hair he has now, he didn’t have tattoos, he didn’t use makeup and his clothes were very basic second hand stuff that hid his figure a lot. AFTER his pact he finally gets to look the way he’s always dreamed of, he gets top surgery courtesy of Graz’zt, he wears expensive high quality fabrics, tailor made outfits, custom made shoes, LOTS of shiny rings and jewelry, he gets his neck tattoo… And while he still has a lot of problems with his self esteem at least he’s really pleased with looking the part of someone who’s made it. 

Kyrtaar:

texture: Does your OC favor any specific kinds of cloth or textures? Is there anything they can't wear or don't like? What sort of fabrics do they prefer?

They LOVE silk and lace but they don’t really wear them during their time as Bhaal’s head of the temple/pre-Gortash, they’re the utmost definition of “very demure, very mindful” since their spartan approach to life bleeds into their fashion at that time. They also like things like chiffon and bits of embroidery here and there, ironically though they DESPISE fabrics like brocade or damask (esp because of the colors they tend to come in), they think they’re too gaudy and flashy and they don’t have the delicate simple look Kyrtaar tends to go for.

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

Pre-bhaal they wore SO much jewelry because their mom used to give them all of her necklaces, earrings and bracelets but after her death and them having to sell her things to make money to reach Bhaal's temple they pretty much swear off of jewelry until Gortash convinces them to wear the very occasional ring or necklace and even those look nothing like what they used to love wearing. They also have their septum piercing but that’s more for the bhaalist aesthetic.

Some of the rings i could see them wearing during their time as Bhaal's chosen:

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

Kyrtaar’s face is the definition of traditional archaic elven beauty, overall androgynous look with a perfect mix of sharp and delicate features. They have a sharp jaw, soft lips with a perfect cupid’s bow and straight nose. Their eyes are definitely the first thing people notice about their face, icy gray-blue that pierces you when they look at someone. The only thing that breaks their stereotypical angelic look is that when they smile, it NEVER looks genuine, their lips stretch too much but it never lights up their eyes, sometimes they show too much teeth others they don’t show enough teeth but somehow it always ends up looking menacing or unsettling. 

Arihs:

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

Arihs moves purposefully and confidently but also softly? He’s very graceful and he gesticulates a lot but with an elegant and almost cocky manner. He’s very flexible and his clothing is tailored for the movements he has to make as a rogue/archer, tighter fitting clothes so no part of his outfit snags on anything (with his field armor being the exception, as a leader he’s also meant to project an imposing appearance in more offense based encounters).

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

He’s used to sleeping in clothes that are comfortable enough to relax in but that cover enough just in case he’s woken up by surprise (something similar to his Skyhold outfit but without all the under and over clothes and the cloth belt) . After he starts sleeping with Alas and Dorian he steals their shirts and foregoes pants all together, wearing only his underwear. Sometimes, if they’re sleeping in Skyhold instead of out on the field, he’ll sleep entirely naked again depending on how hot the room gets. He’s also stolen some of Dorian’s really fancy sleeping robes because he would like to be the kind of person that sleeps in shit like that but it never does it for him.

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

His Winter Palace outfit. The circumstances sucked absolute ass but he felt like how he imagined the elves of the Dales might’ve looked like when they were still ruling that region and it was really important for him to look proudly dalish but also refined when stepping foot in Halamshiral for the first time, putting any kind of rumor about him being an andrastian inquisitor to rest. He’s worn it a couple more times after those peace talks but he mostly keeps it safe, especially after moving to Tevinter where he knows that kind of blue + silhouette + meaning aren’t as trendy/won’t make as much of an impact as it did in Halamshiral.

[friendly-neighborhood-gambler]

Rant/vent incoming

TL;DR Cephalopod women changed my life

So, Splatoon. It’s a game. About kids, who become squids. You know this shit. But the fact is, it’s so much more than that. The characters have in-depth relations and incredible personalities, and every single time they speak it makes me feel emotions like they’re meant to be felt.

For most of my life, I’ve been emotionally unavailable, typically being stone-faced or hiding behind exaggerated energy. And it really took a toll on me, to the point where I would resort to self-violence if I showed any form of emotion other than joy outside of a private space. And so many people knew me as this energetic bitch, who was pretty smart but probably Special Ed in some way.

Then 2014 rolled around. My grandpa had a Wii U, and although he didn’t get Splatoon itself, I still found a way to play it. Don’t entirely remember how, but I did. And that shit? That shit changed my view. Not the way I acted, but my life was different, and I didn’t know just how much. It all started with something simple:

A crush on Marie.

At the time, it seemed like yet another of my pathetic, short term mindsets that would fade away the instant I saw someone else. But no. This squid lady stuck with me, and is still with me to this day, to the point where most relationships I’ve had or strived toward were built off of a direct comparison between the other person and Marie.

And the story behind her and her cousin kept me within an arm’s reach of the series, constantly getting pulled back in by the gameplay and lore. And when Splatoon 2 came out?

DEAR. LORD.

LOOK AT THESE TWO AND TELL ME THAT THEY AREN’T A PERFECT EXAMPLE OF WHAT A NERDY LESBIAN CAN ASPIRE TO BE!!!

I used to look at Marina like the rest of the community did: w a h m a n

But as I look at her again, especially with Side Order and Octo Expansion, I see just how much I missed by skipping over the smaller details. And I’ll say one thing, just one more about her:

I would stay up for EVER rambling back and forth with Marina. Me and her? We could occupy each other for so long with just snacks and ranting…

And Pearl? She’s just SO COOL! I never looked at her as “big forehead bitch”, in fact the larger forehead had me feel kind of comforted since I felt like I had a pretty unnatural face. (I more just felt that way because I didn’t know I was trans yet) Even still, she’s such a comical character who can play both sides of the conversation depending on how Marina’s feeling, being both calm and serious and energetic and rowdy.

And then came Splatoon 3.

And oh. Boy. You already know what I’m gonna sa-

FRYE ATTACK!!!!

I LOVE THIS WOMAN. She is my everything, and if I could, I would legally marry her the instant I turn a legal age.

Call me weird all you’d like, but I get butterflies in my stomach whenever she calls my name during splatfests. I got my Frye amiibo, put her next to my bed, and I fell asleep staring into her eyes. I GOT BACK INTO WRITING JUST SO I CAN MAKE AN OC X FRYE FANFICTION!!!!

And Shiver? Not my favorite, but God do I love them regardless.

They’re snarky, sarcastic, and (in my headcanon) nonbinary. And they fit so well in the trio of Deep Cut. The three of them just make me so happy, even if they lack a bit of personality when they’re all together.

And, uh… the agents.

Yeah, the agents.

Captain 3? Her development is so neat, and her outfit is so awesome!

Agent 4? Don’t know much about him, but he comes from Splatoon 2 story mode so he must be cool.

Neo 3? I think the concept of someone getting recruited by Racist Fish, falling into an abandoned base for humans, taking treasure on accident and saving the world IN SPACE is epic.

And Agent 8… where do I start?

First off, the modes where you play as her are so cool! Octo Expansion is such a neat idea, and turning Splatoon into a roguelike on Side Order is SO DAMN COOL.

Secondly, her design? The FIRST OCTOLING most people played as? THE FIRST OCTOLING THAT WASN’T EVIL???? And the lore implications that she’s the way she is because of Calamari Inkantation????? Sorry, that’s just SO COOL.

Rant over now, long story short I have several sea-life wives

[beefromanoff]

Going Under Ch. 17

summary: the team flies back to NYC for the press conference, and. Gianna finds out some surprising good news

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: elastic heart (piano version) - sia

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: FINALLY finished this one, it's a lengthy one but also had a lot of the information I've been wanting to get out forever! let me know what you think! this sets the scene for the next stage of the story and where it will be held. super excited xoxo

chapter list

_________________________________________________

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky’s voice cut through Gianna’s stupor, snapping her back to attention. 

They were seated side by side in a Quinjet, something Gianna didn’t even know existed until a few hours ago. It was remarkably quiet, with a gentle hum the only indication that there was any mechanical reason they were in the air at all. Pepper and Tony sat a few feet away, with Tony in a heated phone conversation with some manufacturer about the availability of more vibranium and Pepper triple-checking her notes for the upcoming press conference. Gianna and Bucky sat on a bench towards the back of the plane. 

“Hey team, we touch down at the tower in 15, get your game face on.” Tony called before returning to his phone call.

Taking a deep breath, Gianna turned to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Yeah. I’m good. Just a little nervous. You know, you think you’re good at doing press, but it’s one thing to be chatting away about who I’m rumored to be dating or my new song…and another thing entirely to be asked questions about an attack…on my life. Usually I feel like I’m acting, like I’m playing a character. This time, I don’t have anything to hide behind.”

Bucky paused for a moment, before giving a reassuring smile. “You can hide behind me.”

Chuckling, Gianna leaned back. “I might take you up on that if I get a question I don’t want to answer.” 

After the jet had landed on Tony’s private helipad, nearly 50 stories in the air, Pepper had ushered Gianna into an elevator. As the doors slid shut, she caught Bucky’s eye and tried not to look too terrified that they were being separated. Gianna trusted Pepper and knew there wasn’t a place in the world more secure than Avengers Tower, except maybe the compound, but there was a time she felt safe on stage too. She’d only been released from the medical wing this morning, which was a pleasant surprise when she woke up, but she’d been whisked off to the briefing before she even got to ask where she was being released to. 

They’d had a surprising array of pastries and fruit set out next to the set of folders Pepper had prepared for them to review in preparation. Unfortunately, they only had a pot of black coffee (Tony’s favorite) for her to choose from. In true knight-in-shining-armor fashion, however, Bucky had been seated at the far end of the conference room table, two styrofoam coffee cups in front of him. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Gianna had called. 

“You just saw me last night.” Bucky deflected, holding a latte out for her. 

“I was talking to the coffee.” 

After that pleasant surprise, it had turned to strictly business. Pepper’s somber expression told Gianna that whatever was inside the folder wasn’t exactly going to give her the warm fuzzies. As they worked through the intel Tony’s team had acquired on the people Bucky tracked down, those responsible for the attack, Gianna felt her stomach turn. 

They’d tracked the leader back to a small city called Astapor, basically a hybrid between Las Vegas and Hell. The center of illegal weapons dealing, human trafficking, drug smuggling, you name it. There was a whole underworld of incredibly wealthy people demanding incredibly twisted things. Astapor was the place they’d go to get it. 

As it turned out, one of the twisted things that someone was after…was her. 

The details had gone fuzzy after Gianna heard the words leave Pepper’s mouth. Tony sat uncharacteristically quietly, hands clasped in front of his mouth and eyes fixed on the table. Bucky had stood up and faced the wall, his torment visible on his face. The only reason he hadn’t left the room is because he refused to leave Gianna alone to face the horrific details of the attack.

“The person behind all of this was former SHIELD and CIA agent Sharon Carter.” Pepper had explained. 

“She was…a friend to some of us. When the Sokovia Accords conflict occured, Sharon helped break Steve, Bucky, and a few others out of containment. Turns out, she was fired, and faced charges of obstructing justice. She blamed us for the loss of her reputation, her career. So she took the intel she’d gathered and fled to Madripoor. There’s a strong policy against extradition, no one would dare try and find someone there. Well…” Pepper paused, glancing at Bucky. 

“She knew she’d be safe from potential prosecution. So she went to work trying to set herself up financially. Over the past few years, she sold off all the internal information she had, but she ran out of money. When she found out through the surge of information online that Bucky was working with you, Gianna, she made a plan. She knew that if she could somehow…kidnap you, the biggest name in entertainment right now, there would be no dollar amount she couldn’t extract from her buyers. She used her inside information on Steve to set the trap, she knew about his relationship with Bucky. If there was anything that could draw Bucky away from his duty, it was a threat to Steve. She knew that and she exploited it. The plan was to disarm your protection, retrieve you under the shield of chaos, and be in Madripoor before anyone knew where to begin looking. She worked with a team of private contractors, all currently in United States custody. She didn’t have a buyer lined up yet. All loose ends have been tied up.”

There was silence in the room, Gianna couldn’t tell how long it went on. Her ears were ringing, her heart pounding. Her mind struggled to fathom the unspeakable horrors that came so close to becoming her reality. 

“Ms. Cruz?” Pepper gently called. “Do you have any questions?”

Gianna opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words, she turned around and hurled into the wastebasket Bucky was holding. 

Thank God for super soldier reflexes.

Gianna shook her head, forcing memories of that morning out of her head. “Where are we going?” She tried to force her voice to stay steady, knowing it needed to sound clear and confident in a few short hours. 

“I have some people I think you’ll be happy to see.” Pepper smiled gently. The elevator doors slid open to reveal Kate and Tom sitting in yet another conference room. Instead of a light breakfast spread, this time the table was covered by Kate’s arsenal of beauty supplies. As they stepped out of the elevator, both heads snapped up. 

“GIANNA, oh honey, oh it’s so good to see you again!” Kate engulfed her in a rib-crushing hug, her familiar perfume immediately putting Gianna at ease. “Oh, you poor thing, look at you.” Kate’s hands grazed over her face, brows knitting together in concern. 

“You should have seen the other guy.” Gianna said sheepishly. 

The group chuckled, seemingly relieved that she still sounded like herself. After they’d exchanged hugs and Kate had checked for the fifth time that Gianna was still in one piece, they got to work. Pepper had brought half a dozen outfit options, courtesy of her personal buyer, each perfectly tailored to Gianna’s measurements. 

The next hour and a half flew by as Kate filled her in on various rumors circulating in the celebrity makeup artist world, her favorite thing to discuss. Based on the fact that neither Tom nor Kate pressed Gianna for a single detail on the attack, she guessed they’d already been briefed and warned not to upset her. 

While she felt a much needed sense of normalcy sitting in the chair, Kate’s hands dancing across her face, Gianna was only half listening to what she said. Her mind was full of thoughts, but the most prominent one…I wish Bucky were here. 

____________________________________________

Gianna sat nervously in the green room, her newly manicured hands folded in her lap. Kate didn’t miss a single detail. Bucky sat beside her, his metal arm crammed into a black collared shirt that Tony had insisted he wear. After what seemed like an excessively long glam process, due in part to the amount of concealer required to cover all her bruises, Bucky had rejoined them. 

“You sure clean up nice.” She’d said, gulping hard and forcing her eyes to look at his, not the fabric stretched across his muscular chest. 

“I’d say the same, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you any other way.” God, he was such a charmer. 

“You kids ready for this?” Tony said, striding into the green room, the chatter of the reporters following him through the open door. 

Taking a deep breath, Gianna met Bucky’s eyes. He gave a tight-lipped smile as he reached out to grasp her hand. 

“You say the word and we’ll be gone.” 

Smiling, she took his hand and stood to her feet, not letting it go until they reached the podium. 

Per Pepper’s executive decision, the press conference was held in a spacious room at Stark Industries, this one equally as sleek and elegant as every other room Gianna had been in since she entered the Tower for the first time. The room was filled with reporters, cameras, and a palpable tension in the air as everyone awaited the statements regarding the recent bombing incident at Gianna's concert.

Taking her place at the front of the room, Gianna rested her hands on the edges of the podium. There had been a flurry of activity the second they crossed the threshold, but this was no different than usual. Even Bucky was beginning to get desensitized to the flashes and frequent shutter noises. 

Pepper gave a brief address to the gatherer press, giving an official statement on behalf of The Avengers, seeing as they employed Gianna’s security. They’d agreed in the prior meetings that she’d handle the details and that Gianna’s appearance was mainly to assure the public that there was no need to panic or worry. As Pepper emphatically thanked Bucky for his heroics, he simply nodded as the room erupted into applause. Cameras flashed, this time pointed directly at him. Gianna felt his discomfort but was thankful he was receiving the public recognition he deserved. 

Pepper concluded her remarks and turned the microphone over to Gianna, though she continued to moderate. Reporters raised their hands, and one by one, they were called upon to ask their questions. Delivering perfectly rehearsed and media-trained answers, Gianna slipped back into her public persona quickly, albeit a little more reserved given the circumstances. 

“What will this mean for the second leg of the tour, the international dates?” One reporter called from the second row. 

Pausing, Gianna realized she didn’t actually know the answer to that question. She hadn’t even seen Tom since the incident, prior to that morning, and hadn’t had the energy to check her phone, knowing it would be full of texts and calls from people who only pretended to be her friend. The sad truth was, every person who truly cared about her had seen her within the past 2 hours. 

Stepping forward, Tom spoke into the microphone, an apprehensive look on his face as though he were saying something he didn’t want to say. “Gianna’s team is working as quickly as possible to figure out the logistics that will allow her to return to -” 

“Actually,” Tony’s voice called from behind Gianna. Turning, she saw him stepping toward the podium so she shifted to the side to allow him to take center stage. “There’s been a change of plans. As of -” He glanced at Pepper who confirmed a detail on her phone before winking at him. “About ten minutes ago, a new holding company has acquired Ms. Cruz’s record label. One who, believe it or not, doesn’t believe in taking advantage of unrepresented minors and enforcing a contract less than a week following an attempted kidnapping.”

Confused, Gianna glanced up at Bucky, expecting him to meet her eyes with the same questioning look. Instead, she found his gaze locked on Tony, not looking surprised in the slightest. Looking almost…satisfied. 

“Okay, fine, you guessed it. Stark Capital Group, founded and funded by yours truly, is officially in the music business. Don’t ask me my first order of business, you already know it’ll be to make Destiny’s Child a reunion offer they can’t refuse.” 

The room erupted with even more flashes and questions being yelled at the front of the room. Tom looked as bewildered as Gianna felt, whereas Pepper and Bucky both looked pleased. 

“Mr. Stark, what does this acquisition mean for Ms. Cruz and the tour?” 

“What it means is that she’s a kid who just almost got turned into pop star puree. Anyone who thinks her top priority right now should be putting on a concert can see me after this conference for a complimentary lobotomy.” 

“So what exactly-”

“What Mr. Stark means is that we as a company decided to intervene because we didn’t feel like the necessary precautions were being taken with Ms. Cruz.” Pepper intervened, ever so diplomatic, as she elbowed Tony out of the way. “All ticket holders will be fully refunded, as well as given a voucher for any rescheduled dates we may decide to pursue in the future. For now, our top priority is ensuring that Ms. Cruz has the time and resources to recover both mentally and physically. That’s all the time we have for today, thank you all for attending and thank you once again for your support.” 

The flashes took up once again, all trying to get one final shot as the crew traipsed out of the room. Tony was in rare form, blowing kisses to the camera while Pepper ushered him out. Bucky’s left hand took it’s place on Gianna’s lower back, guiding her toward the door. She reveled in the feeling of the cool metal through her shirt, something thankfully familiar in the midst of all this confusion. 

As the door to the private conference room closed and they were alone once again, Gianna couldn’t contain herself any longer. 

“Can someone please let me in on whatever’s happening here?”

Pepper smiled kindly. “Of course. Bucky told us the situation with your label and how you didn’t have much room to negotiate for yourself. As soon as Tony heard they were trying to get you back on tour, he asked me how quickly we could buy the company.”

Dumbfounded, Gianna looked from Pepper to Bucky, who stood in front of the door. He shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. 

“Don’t worry, this isn’t going to change as much as you think. We’ve already sent word to fire the man responsible for exploiting you like this, I’ll get him replaced with someone much more qualified. Consider your contract reopen for negotiations.” 

Mind spinning, Gianna struggled to figure out what to ask first. 

“So…what do I do now?”

Tony spoke up again. “Whatever the hell you want, kid.” 

“For now, let’s get you back to the compound. We went ahead and prepared a room for you so you can settle in while you figure out next steps. It’s the safest place for you to lie low and recover. I’m sure Bucky can be talked into giving you the full tour when we land.” Pepper’s smile always seemed to extend to her eyes when she spoke, something that made her feel even warmer. 

As they left the room to make sure the Quinjet was ready for departure, Gianna swiveled her chair to face Bucky.

“How many times do you plan on saving me this week?” She crossed her arms in mock confrontation. 

“As many times as you need saving.” A smirk played across his lips.

“I hope you know I do want the full tour. Every inch of the grounds. Maybe twice, considering I did hit my head pretty hard. Oh, and I wanna see your room. If it doesn’t have that poster of me you said was on your wall, I’m going to rethink everything.” 

Chuckling, Bucky held the door open to lead her to the helipad. “Whatever you say.”