#Upsilon Class

[alphamecha-mkii]

Star Wars: X-Wing - Upsilon-class Shuttle Expansion Pack - Hyperwave Comm Scanner by Siim Rimm

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the old college try

pairing: frat dad!joel miller x college student!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5.1k

summary:

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Literally. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.

dear reader:

this is an extremely self-indulgent fic that i just had to write, so i hope you enjoy it! if you do, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), alternate universe - no outbreak/no sarah, age difference (42M and 23F), dub con - sex under the influence of alcohol, no use of y/n, frat party stereotypes, keg stands and beer pong, semi-public sex (frat bathroom), mild daddy kink (not during sex), p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, cheesy dad jokes, the university of texas as a plot device. please let me know if any are missing!

You turn over in your bed with a deep groan, burying your face into your pillow. You reach your arm out from under the covers to grab your phone from the nightstand, smacking your hand around the wood surface until you find it and can bring it under the covers with you. Turning over, you tap the screen and squint at the series of unread text messages.

Ashley: Get up bitch! 

Ashley: It’s time to get ready!

Ashley: We’re going to be late if you don’t get up

Ashley: Don’t make me break into your apartment

Ashley: You know I can

You sit up quickly, shoving the blankets off of you and rushing to the front door, flipping the lock and pulling it open. Your best friend is across the threshold, knelt down on the ground with two bobby pins held up and her eyes wide in surprise.

“Aw man,” she laments, standing and brushing off her knees. “I wanted to test my skills.”

“I’m not paying to replace the lock,” you chastise, stepping back to let her in. “Sorry, overslept.”

“Figured. I’ll get your coffee started,” she replies, heading for your kitchen while you head back to your bedroom to start your morning routine. “Guess which frat is hosting the tailgate today?”

“Which one?” You shout from the bathroom as you run through your skincare routine.

“Theta Lambda Upsilon,” Ashley shouts back. The scent of brewing coffee paired with this excellent news has you perking up immediately. 

Your friend steps into your room with two mugs in her hands, passing one to you as you exit the bathroom and sit at your cluttered vanity, pushing aside products to make room to set your mug down. Ashley sits on your bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“The hottest frat hosting the tailgate and after party means we’ll get to see the hottest dads this weekend,” she says, shimmying her shoulders excitedly. “It’s simple genetics.”

“You dropped genetics. Remember? You couldn’t handle an 8 am class,” you say as you apply mascara. 

“I went to enough classes to know how a Punnett square works.”

You laugh, finishing your makeup between long sips of coffee. “It’s amazing you couldn’t tough it out through an early semester but give you an afternoon game and you’re trying to break into my apartment at the crack of dawn.”

“It’s DILF Day, baby. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning.”

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned tailgates and house parties on frat row following the game.

As an out-of-state student, your parents have always skipped Family Weekend in exchange for buying your plane tickets back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break, which leaves you with plenty of opportunity to ogle the hot dads that descend upon campus on this glorious weekend. You’ve never had the guts to actually pursue anything with anyone, but it’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang.

Literally.

“What are you going to wear?” Ashley asks. 

“Shorts and that new tank top I got,” you reply, finishing your makeup with a pop of your lips after applying gloss. “And boots. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Ashley nods as you rifle through your closet for the outfit in question - denim cutoffs and orange Texas Longhorn tank top that hugs your curves and shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Finishing the look with your worn brown cowgirl boots, you spin for your friend who gives you a thumbs up. “Sexy. I reckon’ this year you’ll catch yourself a DILF.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Joel’s arm hangs out the truck’s open window, fingers tapping against the hot metal as he drives down the highway towards the Austin campus of the University of Texas. It’s Family Weekend and his son, Sean, started his sophomore semester at UT a few weeks prior and now lives in the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house on campus after proving to Joel that he would take his classes seriously by doing well his freshman year. Joel’s always been close with his son as a single dad and the fact that Sean asked him to Family Weekend feels like a testament to that bond.

The campus is already bustling with the game day crowd, trucks parked in grassy areas along the road with their tailgates down, people setting up tents and tables and coolers. Joel drives slowly down the street until he’s turning down a side road and parking down the hidden drive his son had given him instructions to find. He hops from the truck, sneakers hitting the hot pavement and the sun already beating down on his arms as he makes his way towards the TLU house a couple blocks away. 

There’s a huge crowd of students and parents in shades of burnt orange and white on the front lawn of the two story fraternity house, red solo cups or cans of beer in hand. Joel looks around until he hears a familiar voice calling out, “Dad!”

Sean emerges from the crowd dressed in a white polo shirt with an orange Longhorn logo on the chest tucked into khaki pants, his curly brown hair slicked back with gel. Joel smiles, hugging his son and patting him on the back in greeting.

“Been ages since I saw you, kid. Have you gotten taller?” Joel asks.

Sean rolls his eyes. “You saw me last weekend!”

A voice calls out Sean’s name and the younger man throws an arm around Joel’s shoulders, dragging him along into the packed fraternity house. The scene inside is not unlike all the ones he’s seen in movies and TV shows - flags stuck to the walls as decor, a mysteriously sticky floor, and kitchen countertops filled with booze. Sean stops and grabs a red plastic cup, handing it to Joel. 

“Pick your poison,” Sean instructs, grabbing his own cup. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“Last I checked, you weren’t twenty-one,” he chastises, earning him another eye roll. 

“Like you didn’t know Uncle Tommy was buying me beer when I was a senior.”

“He what?” Joel asks, though the question is lost in the noise as Sean leads him to an impressive back deck hosting a beer pong table and two kegs nestled in plastic trash cans and surrounded by ice. 

Sean slips into the crowd surrounding the kegs, taking Joel’s cup from his hands, pumping the tap and filling each cup with ice cold beer, handing one to Joel. 

“Go Longhorns,” Sean says, tapping his cup to Joel’s and chugging the contents. Joel watches his twenty-year-old son with wide eyes and a torn conscience. 

“This is what I’m payin’ tuition for, huh?” He teases, taking a single sip of the cheap beer. A cheer erupts from behind him and he turns to look at what’s causing so much excitement.

You and a friend are at one end of a plastic folding table, glaring daggers at two boys at the other end, a single solo cup set on the table in front of you. You have a white ping pong ball held delicately between two fingers, your other hand propped on your hip as you squint one eye shut to take your aim for the cup that sits in front of the boys. You let the ball fly and it sinks into the cup, another cheer going through the small crowd gathered around you as you jump up and down excitedly.

Sean approaches the boys, slapping one of them on the shoulder. One of them shouts, “Redemption shot!”

“Oh, please! You can’t aim for shit, Chad!” You shout back. 

“Celebrity shot, then!” He suggests. The boy, Chad, reaches out to pull an older man to his side. “Dad edition!”

Your eyes scan the crowd, landing on Joel. You wave him over, the older man glancing around briefly before pointing to himself to confirm. You nod, smile bright as he approaches.

“I need a daddy for this celebrity shot, you wanna do the honors?” You ask sweetly. Joel swallows nervously, face heating at the suggestive tone and look you’re giving him. 

“Come on, dad!” Sean calls out. “Show ‘em what a Miller man can do!”

“Yeah,” you chime in. “Show me what a Miller man can do.”

“Alright, fine,” Joel acquiesces, moving to stand beside you. You slip a ping pong ball into his hand, standing so close beside him that your bare arm brushes his as you both watch Chad’s dad take aim for the single cup. 

The ball soars through the air, hitting the rim of the cup and bouncing off onto the table, rolling to the ground as the men groan. He feels you place a hand on his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you whisper, “Come on, Mr. Miller. You’re my only hope.”

It doesn’t escape Joel’s notice that you keep your hand on his shoulder as he takes aim and throws the ball across the table, sinking it into the cup. You’re throwing your arms around his shoulders in celebration as the people around you shout excitedly. On instinct, Joel’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before coming to his senses and taking a step back.

“Thanks,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m going to go inside for a drink. You want anything? I’ve got a stash of IPAs in a friend’s fridge upstairs if you want something better than Miller Lite. Consider it a thank you for winning me bragging rights over Chad.”

Joel should say no. He shouldn’t be taking up drink offers from someone half his age, but you’re giving him another devastating smile that has his resolve folding faster than a lawn chair in a hurricane.

“Sure.”

The hottest man you’ve ever seen is currently following you upstairs to your friend Craig’s room for a beer. He’s tall and tan with sweet brown eyes and dark hair that looks like it would be a dream to run your fingers through. His broad chest and toned biceps press deliciously at the confines of the white UT Longhorns shirt he’s wearing. When he stepped up beside you to throw your celebrity shot at the beer pong table downstairs, you’d noted that his left hand featured no wedding band or a tan line of one left behind.

You reach the second floor and head for the last door on the right, marked with a PRESIDENT plaque. You reach into the pocket for the key Craig had given you earlier and let yourself inside, heading for the mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two Yellow Rose IPA cans. 

“So,” you say, handing the man one of the drinks. “You got a name, or should I keep calling you Mr. Miller?”

“It’s Joel,” he says, taking a long sip of the beer. You watch the muscles of his throat work, longing to press your lips against the tan skin. 

You tell him your name, holding a hand out to him for a handshake. His grip is tight, sturdy, and for a brief moment you think about how his sure, thick fingers would feel deep inside of you. He looks around the room curiously as he pulls his hand back.

“Craig and I have been friends since freshman year,” you explain. “I helped him pass calculus, he lets me keep my beer out of the grubby hands of his frat brothers.”

“Calculus, huh?” He asks, taking another sip. “Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Just a basic engineering prerequisite,” you joke. 

“Engineering? That’s impressive.”

You take a seat on Craig’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. Joel’s eyes track the movement and you smile, giddy at the attention. “What do you do, Mr. Miller?”

“Thought you were gonna call me Joel?” 

“Mm, I can think of a few things to call you.”

Joel nearly spits his mouthful of beer out, choking on the bitter drink. You rush towards him, patting him on the back as he coughs. After a moment of fighting for breath, the man seems to realize how close you are, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, trailing down to your chest. 

You lean in a little closer, pressing yourself to him and you think this might be it, Joel Miller might be the DILF of your dreams as he leans into you as well. 

But the doorknob rattles and the door swings open, Joel jumping back in surprise as both of you turn to look at the doorway. Craig leans against the frame, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, looking between you and Joel. “Ashley’s lookin’ for you downstairs. We’re headin’ to the stadium now.”

“I better find Sean, then,” Joel says. Craig’s eyes light up.

“You’re Miller’s dad? Hey, man, nice to finally meet you. I’m Craig, TLU president.” The men shake hands, patting each other on the back. “Sean’s a good kid, we’re happy to have him.”

“Good to hear,” Joel replies. 

“Well, guess I’ll go find Ashley.” You place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Maybe I’ll see you later?” You let your hand trail down the man’s bicep as you leave and you watch his throat work around a nervous swallow.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “See you later.”

The Longhorns pull off an impressive win, a 49-0 blowout against Oklahoma that has the entire campus celebrating with abandon. If Joel thought the TLU house was packed for the tailgate, that crowd was nothing compared to the after game party. More alcohol, more people, and more noise is packed into the house. Joel sticks close to Sean, meeting more of his frat brothers and their parents with shouted introductions. 

When the stale air inside the house gets too overwhelming, Sean leads him to the deck. More kegs have appeared and his son bumps him with his shoulder, nodding towards where a few people are gathered around one, a man hoisted upside down by two people gripping his legs as he chugs directly from the keg tap. He spits the valve out as the crowd shouts a chorus of, “Twenty!”

“I bet you could do better,” Sean says. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“I know what you’re doin’, kid, and it ain’t gonna work,” Joel replies. Sean puts his hands up.

“I’m not doin’ anythin’. But if you’re too scared, you can tell me.”

“I’m not scared.” 

“Hey, my dad’s got next!” Sean shouts, dragging Joel through the crowd with an arm around his shoulders. Joel tries to argue but a familiar face in the crowd has the words dying on his tongue. You wiggle your fingers at him in a wave and suddenly he has the motivation to execute the most impressive keg stand of his life.

Joel grabs the cold handles of the keg, Sean and one of his fraternity brothers lifting him into the air so that he’s suspended upside down over the barrel of beer. People begin counting, shouting numbers as he attempts to focus on the beer flooding his mouth and drinking it down steadily. It’s been a long time since he’s done one of these, probably before Sean was even born, but if there’s one thing Joel has never been, it's a quitter.

After what feels like forever he spits the valve out with a gasp and he gets lowered back to ground as the crowd shouts, “Thirty-four!”

Sean’s frat brothers jump around him excitedly, hands patting him on the back and cheering his name. He laughs as Sean starts yelling, “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”

Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just in time to see you disappear into the house. He tells Sean he’ll be back in a minute and follows after you, craning his neck to scan the mass of bodies crammed inside until he spots you on the stairs. 

When he finally manages to reach the stairs, he’s surprised to find them roped off at the bottom. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to him, he ducks beneath the barrier, taking the steps two at a time. The second floor is dark and empty but light spills into a hall from beneath the last door marked PRESIDENT.

Joel knocks on the wood, his head a little light from the rush of alcohol in his system but it has him feeling good. 

Confident. 

Maybe a little too confident because when you open the door, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his way inside as his lips find yours, a little noise of surprise swallowed by him as his tongue explores yours.

He comes to his senses when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, jarring him back to a reality where he is a mature adult who thinks with his brain and not his dick. He grips you on the shoulders, breaking the kiss and holding you at arm's length.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay to kiss you, just came bargin’ in here like a bull in a goddamn china shop and you probably don’t even want—“

“Joel?” You interrupt. He blinks.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Kiss me again.”

Joel kisses you again, but pulls away a second time to ask, “Wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” you reply, giggling as he mutters a low thank god before pulling you back into his arms. It’s another short lived kiss, the man leaning back once more as you huff in annoyance.

“Wait, how much have you had to drink?” He asks this time. 

“Less than you, Mr. Thirty-Four-Second Keg Stand,” you answer. He gives you a smirk that has your stomach doing somersaults. 

“You liked that, huh?” 

His hands slip into the back pockets of your shorts and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. Your heart is racing as he pulls you even closer and runs his hands up your back, warm palms exploring your curves like he’s trying to map them to memory.

You’re lost enough in each other that the sound of the door opening doesn’t register until an upset voice is saying, “Ugh, come on! No fucking in my room!”

“Shit,” you yelp, tearing yourself away from Joel. Craig is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You grab Joel’s hand and tug him towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind you, flipping the lock.

“Hey, wait a minute—“

“It’s not your room, Craig!” You yell through the wood. There’s a muffled curse from the other side.

“Condoms are under the sink,” he shouts back. You grin victoriously at Joel, who’s laughing so hard he has a hand pressed to his chest. You step up to him, grabbing that hand and bringing it around your waist.

“You sure about this?” Joel asks seriously, stepping forward until he’s crowding you against the door. You tilt your head up to look at his handsome face, his dark eyes so intense as he searches your face that you feel giddy.

“I mean, the location isn’t ideal, but at least Craig keeps his bathroom pretty clean,” you joke, noting the clear counter space and surprising lack of dirty clothing littering the floor. 

“Answer the question, sweetheart. You sure about doing this with me?”

You reach up, tangling your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him close until your lips graze his as you respond, “I’m so fucking sure.”

Whatever tether of control Joel had been holding onto seems to snap with your words, the man kissing you so roughly that all you can do is hold on, your fingers curling desperately against his scalp as his tongue dives into your mouth and tangles with yours. He tastes like beer and smells like a mixture of cedar and sweat, the combination intoxicating as he presses close and surrounds you with it.

Joel trails his lips across your jaw, nipping your earlobe before continuing down your neck. He sucks the thin skin over your pulse before soothing the sting with his tongue as you writhe against him, gasping at the sensation. You can feel his smile against your shoulder and as he presses a thigh between your legs, you get a brief feel of his hard cock behind the barrier of his basketball shorts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, hands trailing across your curves until he’s gripping one of your breasts, squeezing tightly.

“Not so bad yourself,” you moan. He chuckles darkly.

“The mouth on you.” He reaches two fingers into the low neck of your tank top, dragging it down over your breasts. He yanks the cups of your bra down in a similar fashion, the fabric bunched beneath your chest to expose your tight nipples to him. He dips his head down and wraps his lips around a tight bud, pulling it into his mouth as you gasp.

“Could show you some other things my mouth is good at,” you tell him as he releases your breast with a wet pop, lifting his head to look at you. 

“I have a better idea,” he says, dropping to his knees. He lifts one of your legs and wiggles your boot off, tossing it to the side before doing the same with the other.

“What are you doing?” You ask when his hands reach for the fly of your shorts. He pauses, looking up at you with concern. 

“I was plannin’ on eatin’ you out until you couldn’t think straight,” he says. His brows pinch together. “Do you not want that?”

“I-I’m not sure? I mean, no one’s ever…,” your sentence trails off, your eyes going wide.

Joel runs a soothing hand down your thigh, smiling up at you. “That’s a damn shame, baby. Let me show you how a real man takes care of a woman.”

You let him work your shorts and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them with a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He lifts one of your legs and settles it over his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze. His eyes flick up to your face and he grins as he says, “Pretty all over, aren’t ya?”

Any smart reply you have died on your tongue as he starts kissing the sensitive skin of your thighs, starting at the knee that’s close to his face and moving up, up, up until you can feel his warm breath on your pussy. His tongue flicks across your clit, featherlight, but it’s enough to have you gasping his name. 

He starts a rhythm of messy swirls of his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down to your entrance, the tip of his nose still brushing your clit and making you moan. You buck against his face and he immediately grasps your hips in his big hands, fingers curling into the flesh of your ass to hold you still as he lavishes your pussy with attention.

“Oh my god,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He groans at the same time his lips wrap around your clit and the sound of his satisfaction has your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing through your veins and making you feel like you’re on fire. 

You feel breathless as he licks you slowly, thoroughly, his tongue making sure he’s gotten every last drop of your release. He leans back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder. His lips and chin are coated in your wetness, shiny in the light of the bathroom vanity, the sight making your cheeks feel hot and a nervous giggle spill free.

Joel grins, boyish and sweet. “Good?” He asks. 

“Great. Amazing,” you concur. “Ten out of ten. Your Yelp review will be glowing.”

“Shouldn't I be the one leavin’ the Yelp review? You were the meal after all.”

You blink at him. “Oh my god, that was so bad,” you say, laughter near hysterical.

He stands, his palms cupping your face and pulling you into a filthy kiss that quickly shuts you up, his tongue slowly exploring yours and introducing the musky taste of yourself to your taste buds. You reach down, palming his hard cock through his shorts and the responding groan you receive from the older man has you clenching in anticipation.

Joel breaks the kiss, pulling you against his body and turning until you’re facing the vanity, your hips pressed to the edge of the laminate counter. You watch his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand down your back, pressing you forward slightly so that you’re bent over the counter, ass slightly tilted up. His hand continues lower until it’s running reverently over one cheek. He catches your eye in the mirror.

“You gonna let me fuck you just like this?” He asks. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace through your folds, one dipping into your entrance. He watches your face in the mirror, eyes dark and expression serious. “Answer me.”

“Fuck, yes, anything,” you say quickly. He thrusts his finger slowly, curling it against your front wall with every pull from your body. One finger becomes two, the slight stretch making you whine as he continues to work them in and out of you. “Joel, please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks.

“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him. 

Joel grins, removing his fingers and urging you to the side so he can open the cabinet under the sink. He crouches down, rummaging through the contents for a moment before standing with a victorious expression and a foil packet pinched between his fingers. He shoves his basketball shorts and boxers down his thighs, just low enough to free his impressive cock, thick and long with a slight curve up that has your mouth watering. He rolls the condom on and then grabs your hips, the tip of his length sliding through your folds and making your breath catch.

“You ready, baby?” He asks, squeezing your hips. You meet his gaze in the reflection, your lips tilted in a smirk.

“Been ready for a while, old man,” you tease. He raises his eyebrows and draws his hand back, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you crying out. 

Before the sting even fades, he’s pushing inside of you with one steady thrust until his hips are flush to your ass. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter and you lift onto your tiptoes, trying to escape the sudden sensation of his cock stretching you so well. He chuckles darkly, tight hands on your hips keeping you from going too far.

“Old man,” he taunts, mimicking the higher pitch of your voice. He reaches forward, palm resting beneath your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his in the mirror as he says, “Eyes up, sweetheart. You watch how this old man fucks you.”

Joel draws his hips back and slams forward, the head of his cock burying so deep inside of you that your eyes roll back from the exquisite stretch and pressure. He sets a rhythm that has a constant string of moans and pleas spilling from your parted lips, a slow pull out and a rough push in that makes you see stars. If you dare to let your chin drop or your eyes shut, the strong hand around your throat reminds you of his demand that you watch.

“That feel good, baby?” He grunts. “My cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“That’s right, who’s fuckin’ you so good? Say my name, sweetheart, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth.”

“Joel!” You cry out, the tight coil of pleasure in your belly finally unraveling, your cunt pulsing greedily around his cock as you cum. He curses, his rhythm going sloppy as he fucks you through your release and right into his own.

His hand leaves your throat and his head drops to your shoulder, soft kisses being left on your shoulder blades as you both catch your breath. After a long moment, he pulls back from you, removing the condom and tying it off to toss it in the garbage.

You straighten up from your bent position over the counter, fixing your bra and tank top back into place. Turning, you find Joel holding your shorts and panties. 

“Was that…are you…did you—“ 

You lean into him as you grab your clothes, kissing him softly. Pulling back, you murmur, “That was amazing.”

Joel sighs in relief, watching as you get dressed and tug your boots back on. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Why don’t you head downstairs first? I need to freshen up,” you suggest. Joel nods, but doesn’t make a move to leave. You raise your eyebrows at him and that seems to have him getting the hint. 

“Oh! Right, I’ll just…go downstairs,” he says. You giggle, leaning into him for one more kiss before he disappears from the bathroom and you busy yourself with fixing your appearance to look a little less well fucked.

Downstairs, Joel wanders through the first floor in search of his son. He feels a flash of guilt for leaving him for so long, especially to fuck a woman half his age in a frat house bathroom, but the guilt is short lived when he finds his son with his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl in the living room.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, turning to head for the front door instead. It’s getting late and now seems like a good time to head home.

He’s a few steps out the front door when he hears his name called out and you appear from the doorway. 

“You heading out so soon?” You ask, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he kind of wants to kiss from your lips. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“Uh, yeah. Was gonna head home,” he says. Christ, he has no idea why he’s acting so weird, but you have him tied up in knots. 

“You know…my apartment isn’t far. Maybe…maybe you don’t have to go home just yet?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.

Those knots of uncertainty loosen and Joel holds a hand out to you.

“Lead the way, baby.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[cinnnamongrl]

sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 4)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: part 4 to this fic. you can find part 3 here.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, mentions of alcohol, sexual themes, kissing, ✨tension✨

author’s note: part 4/5 !! have fun gays

“you really didn’t have to do that.” you spoke through a pained smile. “i did! and you have to go because i already told campus news that you are chad are a hot new item” she winked. a hot new item? “you did what?” ellie interjected, sitting up. “why-“ you closed your eyes and took in a breath, “-why would you do that?” you spoke calmly despite the irritation bubbling at your chest. emilia tutted like you were asking a stupid question “because i did some digging and turns out someone has famous sorority blood. daughter of an ex kappa upsilon sigma president dating the current kappa upsilon sigma president… that’s the news people really care about!” she explained. “… is it?” “yep!” she beamed.

~~~~~~

“campus fucking news” you said in disbelief. ellie snorted and held her hand above her eyes to shield the sun beaming down on her as she walked you to your class. “it’s not funny! look at the fucking text i just got from my dad” you handed her your phone.

“jesus” ellie handed your phone back to you. “yeah..” you mumbled. “he’s ‘proud that you’re respecting and upholding family values’… this is all because he thinks you’re dating a frat boy?” you scoffed, “when you put it like that it sounds insane. i think it’s because chad’s the kappa pres and kappa means a lot to my dad. he still gets involved with the fraternity even now. and my parents… they’re traditional. and they have these ideals of me being exactly like them. and they think it’ll get me to where i want to be.” “in a dull marriage where you have 4 kids and 0 orgasms?” you hit her lightly “i’m serious!” she hugged your side into hers and kissed your forehead “i know. i’m sorry angel. that’s a lot of pressure and it must be tough on you.” “what am i gonna do about tonight?” you huffed. she looked at you, “you’re gonna go.” you blinked up at her. “and you’re gonna humour emilia and the others until we figure out how to get you out of this little situation.” you nodded your head a few times, then a small smile appeared as you looked up at her “you not gonna be too jealous watching me on a date with someone else?” you teased. she poked her tongue at her cheek lightly and a little smirk played against her lips “why would i be jealous when he’s not a threat?”. you raised your eyebrows “such confidence, williams.” “well, am i wrong?” she tilted her head towards you and you shook your head with a laugh.

~~~~~~~

warm sticky heat pawed at your skin as you weaved your way through a crowded tipsy bison to reach the bar. you stood waiting to catch a bartenders eye when a hand you knew wasn’t ellie’s was placed on your lower back. “i’ll get the drinks” chad spoke.

despite how much you wanted to be away from this bar and this date, chad wasn’t… awful. sure he’s talked about himself a lot, and yes he’s gone through his camera roll and shown you highlight clips of his football games but he wasn’t the worst frat guy you’d ever come across. he was respectful at least and did seem to have a genuine interest in getting to know you. you nearly felt bad that he was on a date with someone who has absolutely no interest in him. nearly. he placed your two drinks on the little table for two that was conveniently in perfect viewing distance from the booth where your friends sat. you did a little scan; brittney was talking to one of chad’s friends, emilia seemed to be rejecting a kappa guy, madison was ranting to chloe, ellie was… sitting, her back against the booth, manspreading slightly with one hand against the back of the seat, the other holding her drink and she was staring right at you. you adjusted in your seat slightly and let your eyes run over her. she winked half-jokingly and a giggle escaped your throat. “don’t you think?” your brain suddenly processed the background noise you’d been hearing was a question directed at you. you turned your head to chad suddenly. “oh um… yeah.” he nodded thoughtfully and smiled “i knew you’d agree,” he reached his hand out and placed it on top of yours. oh god. “you know… you’re even cuter than emilia said you were.” you lifted your mouth in a hopefully not-too-obvious fake smile. “and you’re like, super smart and shit” you looked down to avoid his intense gaze and his hand reached out to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. you tried not to visibly cringe and instead looked up and change the subject “so tell me about that soccer game again”. he smiled, one eyebrow lifted in confusion “football.” “yeah, that.” he took in a breath and began rambling again about his sporting achievements.

ellie had never really considered herself a jealous person. that was until she was being forced to watch some douche put his stupid hands on your and touch your hair and get to put his dumb frat boy face near yours. the fact that she was having to sit metres away and pretend to everyone else she was rooting for this fake date was adding to the bitterness creeping through her body. she pictured herself striding over there, knocking chad off his chair and carrying you bridal-style out of the bar, knight in shining armour rescuing her princess. watching him lean forward to speak into your ear was her last straw, she couldn’t stride over to rescue you but she also couldn’t sit here and watch chad get to act like she did with you all because of some stupid lie at a party.

you stared blankly at chad as he rambled, practically spaced out and nodding at appropriate times. out of the corner of your eye you spotted ellie getting up and walking towards the restroom and a spark of excitement went through you at finally getting an opportunity to talk to her tonight. you looked back at chad “oh my god no way that’s so funny hahaha imgonnausetherestroomillbebackinabit” you blurted out as you were standing up from your seat, desperate to escape before he could stop you. you headed straight for the restroom, praying all of the girls were too engaged in their conversations to follow you. you swung the door open and were met with an empty room minus ellie who’s arms were stretched out to lean against a sink. her head turned to you as you walked in, door closing behind you and she smirked, “what is it with you always following me into toilets?”

you smiled at her “maybe i just needed to use the restroom.” she stepped towards you, “oh? so you didn’t come running in here so you could abandon your date and get me alone for a few minutes?” you looked away playfully “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she reached you and placed her arms around your waist. “i don’t blame you. he seems like a boring motherfucker.” you gasped in faux shock “are you… jealous?” ellie rolled her eyes dramatically “yeah i’m crazy jealous,” voice dripping with sarcasm, “he’s out there sipping on his drink waiting for you,” her hands travelled to your lower back, “and i’ve got you in here, pressed up against me” her hands dropped down to squeeze your ass and the action made you fall into her closer. ellie’s words came out casually but her possessive actions were exposing her jealousy which made you want to reel that part out of her even more. “you know, he’s actually quite interesting.” ellie pulled her body from yours by an inch and looked at you. “he’s pretty funny too.”

ellie took her hands from you and placed one on her hip “‘mh. it’s just weird ‘cause i didn’t see you laughing much.” you looked up. “weird. i definitely was.” ellie crossed her arms. “you’re trying to make me jealous.” she told you. “‘m not. was just sayin’ he’s not that bad.” ellie chuckled and grabbed your hands to pull you back into her, face close to yours. “that’s cute. if you wanted me to get all possessive, you could’ve just said.” her tone slightly darker. you chewed on your lip, any response lost before it even reached you. she tilted her head to the side, “hm?”. a barely audible mm left your throat and she laughed. “don’t get all shy on me now, you were trying to rile me up a second ago.” she rested a hand on the back of your neck, thumb stroking your cheek and she brought her mouth inches close to yours “you want a kiss?”. you nodded enthusiastically “mhm”. she was dragging her other hand up and down your side, tickling the bare skin of your upper leg just before your skirt stopped. “then tell me what you really think about chad,” she spoke lowly, “who you’d rather be out with.” you sighed, “you already know. just kiss me.” “i want you to say it”. you huffed, “he’s boring. and not funny. or interesting. and i wish i was out with you instead.” she tutted in sympathy, near-mocking pout present. “me too, sweet girl.” she lowered her mouth to yours and kissed you. you released a little sigh of relief into her mouth. you were all-consumed by ellie; her body pressed to yours, her scent making your mind fuzzy, the taste of her earlier drinks on your tongue and head swarming with ellie ellie ellie. your body swelled with the urge to drag her into a toilet stall and-

the restroom door swung open and you ripped away from each other just in time to hide your activity, though probably not enough to hide your flustered appearance. three girls you didn’t know stumbled into the room and claimed the sinks. you looked at ellie and she looked at you. tension still high but now with no outlet. she slowly backed out of the bathroom and walked back to her booth. you debated following her for a second but you looked over and saw chad, head in his hands drumming his fingers on his beer bottle and you begrudgingly decided to go back over there before your friends pestered you about not trying hard enough on your date. you made your way over to him but before you got there brittney stopped you. “we’re going outside to vape. come with?” she spoke flatly, her question more of a demand. who knew brittney would be your saviour? you followed all of the girls, including ellie outside of the bar. the night’s harsh air was a welcomed by your overheated body. just as ellie made her way to you emilia approached you.

“having fun?” her tone hopeful. “sure!” you smiled. “he really likes you, i can tell. and you clearly like him. you guys should go exclusive!”. you scoffed, “i don’t know about that”. you noticed brittney was frowning at emilia from a distance, manicured fingers holding onto her blueberry ice elf bar. she pulled emilia over to stand with her which left you alone with ellie. “hi” you spoke and tapped her leg with your foot. she laughed “hi pretty” voice out earshot of the others. “um.. here’s an alley by the side of the bar. you think they’d notice?” you asked. she blinked at you with raised eyebrows, voice full of pretend shock “did you just invite me into a dark alley?” you furrowed your brows with a pout barely hiding your smile “not like that, perv. i meant so we could talk more privately.” “oh talking, i see” she laughed. she did a quick scan and grabbed your hand “c’mon”. she lead you to the side of the bar, away from the eyes of anyone except people passing by on the street. you leaned against the brick wall and ellie stood in front of you.

“it seems like you’re always sneaking me off to hidden places” she said lightheartedly. “well id prefer not to have to sneak away to be able to kiss you but we’re in a bit of a situation.” ellie raised an eyebrow playfully, “and who’s fault is that?” she teased. “hey, i had my reasons.” you defended yourself. “yeah, you were so scared of being in love with me you had a make up a fake crush and he happened to actually exist.”, she laughed. you kicked her with little force “i was not in love with you. i met you a few days before then!” she was still laughing, “and yet i made such an impact you felt the need to deny your real feelings for me”. you crossed your arms, “you’re such an asshole” “hey i’m kidding. i had to pretend to myself that i hated you after that night so i wouldn’t cry” you burst out into affectionate laughter “els”. she smiled and wrapped her hands around your back to bring your body into hers to kiss you. it was sweet and gentle, and yet it still made your stomach flip. against all her body’s instincts she pulled away and took your hand, “let’s not have them wander round here and catch us kissing on your date with dreamy chad”. you giggled and let her lead you back to the bar.

~~~~~~~~~

the drinks ellie used to entertain herself last night while she couldn’t be with you were making themselves known as she woke with a fuzzy head, and the loud banging on her door was not helping. she checked her phone for the time and saw 3 missed calls from you and forced herself out of bed to open her door. you walked past her and threw yourself down onto her bed.

“have you seen it?”. she looked at you for a few moments, “seen what?” you huffed and shoved your phone into her hand. a campus news feature. taking up the screen was a photo of you and ellie kissing. it was dark, zoomed in and kind of blurry like it had been taken from a distance, and anyone who saw the photo wouldn’t be able to make out where you were but you knew it was from last night in the alley. ironically where you’d kissed for about 3 seconds max. under the photo was some writing, ‘chad’s new girl kisses random girl behind his back???’ ellie looked back up at you, “oh god”. you took your phone back and shoved it in your pocket. ellie frowned, “who the hell would ta-“ “we’re going to eta” you interrupted. you practically marched down to the eta house, ellie behind you trying to catch up with your fast pace. when you arrived, emilia, madison, chloe and katie were having breakfast in the dining room. as you stood at the head of the dining table, hands on your hips you realised you hadn’t planned what to say at all. you weren’t even sure what you marched down here to do. accuse someone? defend yourself? maybe they hadn’t even seen it.

“who runs campus news?” spluttered from your mouth. madison looked up at you, “i don’t know. but people can submit whatever they want and most of the time it’ll get published.” the harsh sound of a chair scraping against the floor reached your ears and suddenly emilia was walking towards you “you guys. we saw that feature,” she hugged you both individually. “how awful. and poor chad, he’s already text me asking what’s going on.” selfishly or not, chad’s feeling were at the bottom of your list of problems right now. “so are you two like.. a thing?” katie spoke. emilia spoke up, “no she likes chad! it was just one kiss right? maybe you should go over and talk to him. he’d probably forgive you if you explained it was just a silly mistake. don’t let a great guy like him get away.” you stared at her, failing to hide the confusion on your face. ellie stood beside you chewing on her lip. there were a few seconds of silence. “how do two girls have se-“ “katie.” madison cut her off. this conversation was proving to be even less helpful than you’d predicted. “listen- where can i get in contact with campus news to get the photo taken down?” you spoke calmly, only ellie noticing the frustration peaking through your tone. “you could try calling the number on the website?” chloe offered. “thank you.” you grabbed ellie’s hand and swiftly left the eta house.

back at ellie’s dorm you scrolled through campus news looking for some sort of contact number. ellie sat beside you in silence, a little intimidated by your frantic energy. “babe.” she tried. “mh” you replied, eyes still glued to your phone and fingers scrolling rapidly. “it’s gonna be fine.” she assured you. “‘s not. unless i get it removed from campus news quickly before my parents see it.” ellie took a deep breath, “don’t you think.. in a way it might be for the best?”. you looked up from your phone at her, irritation clear on your features. “how would this be for the best?” she leaned back, resting against the arm being held up by the bed “well you wanted to get out of the chad situation.” “yeah not like this!” you shuffled back a little, frustration building. “not with me?” ellie accused. you rolled your eyes “that’s not what i meant. i don’t want to have to explain this to my parents.” “what’s so awful about your parents finding out? you were gonna have to tell them you’re not dating chad at some point.” ellie said, letting her own frustration show. you picked your phone back up and huffed in anger, not wanting to have to justify why you wanted the feature taken down. “or were you?” ellie spoke. you looked at her again “what?” “were you ever even going to tell them? or am i just some college experiment for fun before you go off and actually start dating a real chad so you can live the life your parents want you to live?” bitterness and hurt ran through ellie’s words. “don’t be like that, ellie.” “well?” ellie waited. she wasn’t sure what for. maybe for you to reassure her, kiss her and tell her she’s being ridiculous and that obviously that wasn’t going to happen.

“i’m gonna go.” you stood up and left her dorm without another word.

part 5

a/n: this is my dramatic tv show outro: dun dun dunnnn! will ellie and reader make up? 😿who took the photo?🫢 and why?😳 find out soon on sorority secrets ! (a cinnnamongrl production) ;)

tag list @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @nil-eena @alexpritch @robinismywifee @sc0ttstre3ted @ilovemoneymorethenmen @amberlynn28 @eyeluvangel @amitycat sorry some blogs won’t tag :(( (might be bc of ur visibility settings)

happy to add people to the taglist but i can’t tag you if you don’t have your age in your bio!! my blog is 18+ !!

[dzthenerd490]

File: Omega Mart

SCP#: AIS

Code Name: O- O- O- Omega Mart! You have no idea what's in store for YOU! ;-)

Object Class: Homager

Special Containment Procedures: The area where SCP-AIS is located has been sealed off from the rest of the city of Las Vegas. Around it a building was constructed that is meant to resemble a large storage area for a local construction company. Anyone who comes close by is to be escorted away regardless of their reasoning. Due SCP-AIS being a creation of Group of Interest: Are We Cool Yet? Mobile Task Force Upsilon-23 “Art Critics” is responsible for assisting Foundation Doctors and Researchers as they explore SCP-AIS. Anomalous items found within SCP-AIS should be tested within SCP-AIS as doing so outside can be hazardous. Mobile Task Force Dionysus-8 “Market Crashers” are responsible for assisting MTF Upsilon-23 taking down any anomalous creatures that might be spawned from experiments within SCP-AIS gone wrong. 

Mobile Task Force Ares-9 “Mall Security” is responsible for defending Foundation staff against intruders from Group of Interest: The Black Queen’s Insurgency, Are We Cool Yet?, Dr. Wondertainment, Vikander-Kneed Technical Media, and The Serpent's Hand. Greazeburger Incorporated has been reported sometimes trying to infiltrate SCP-AIS but it's normally not that hard to simply escort them out. 

Description: SCP-AIS is an art project created by Group of Interest: Are We Cool Yet? The result of this project is a Supermart called “Omega Mart” which contains every type of food, drug, and product that a normal store might possess both in this reality and other realities. A majority of the products and items sold within SCP-AIS do not exist in our reality often existing in alternative timelines and different dimensions especially ones were common social laws and even physical laws are not the same as ours. Shockingly trying to get all the products does nothing as they always restock themselves within 24 hours and sometimes are replaced with entirely new products. How Are We Cool Yet? managed to create such a structure with so many anomalous items and never runs out of them is unknown. 

The interior of SCP-AIS is not hazardous in any way but can be quite difficult to traverse as certain areas defy the laws of physics as well. Some areas it is common for the gravity to flow to the walls rather than the ground. There are spatial distortions causing certain products to be distorted when placed in a certain area but perfectly normal when placed in another. There are even sections that don’t sell anything but seem to be large optical illusions that can make someone have a headache if they stay there for too long. The only true hazard of SCP-AIS is to obtain the wrong product or use a product in the wrong way, a mistake that is unfortunately very easy to make. Please see Addendum X-66 for details.

***

Addendum X-66

The following is a short list of the anomalous items that can be obtained within SCP-AIS. It should be noted that though some items have prices they do not require money to be activated.

***

“Zlag” - Type of juice made with apple, ginger, and lemongrass. Is noted to actually be pretty good.

“Mrs. Dram's Romantic Dinner in a Can” - A tin can that when open seems to be empty but when used in a pour out genster instantly manifested a table with a clover over it, two chairs, a nicely lit candle on the table, two plates with fork, knife, and spoon next to it, and even a server who already has prepared a delicious meal that the one who used the can and their significant other or desired crush will enjoy. After serving the two if they are present he will manifest a violin and play lovely music. Has actually become popular among Foundation staff who need to set up dates fast. 

“Dark Matter Spray” - Anomalous spray can that seemingly releases nothing but is actually spraying Dark Matter into the air. Has been harvested heavily by the Foundation for spatial experiments. 

“Plausible Deniability” - Seemingly a normal stack of papers but once one comes into contact with a law enforcer or a lawyer it shows a legal document that can get the holder out of any situation. Often being signed by a politician that can legally assist in the area, the highest ranking it has been known to utilize is representatives of the UN and even the entire UN Council itself. The Foundation often uses it to assist in making cover stories and has distributed them to our allies at the Horizon Initiative and the Global Occult Coalition, the ladder of which was outraged such things exist. 

“Omega Mart Lemons” - Living Lemons that have an eye growing out of them, no other anomalous traits have been observed as of late. The Ethics Committee banned all research regarding these anomalous items and ordered to have a small portion contained at Site-AA and the rest be left alone. 

Glorbox - [data expunged]. [data expunged]. [data expunged]. [data expunged]. [data expunged]. The sole surviving instance has been stored at Site-[data expunged].

Omega Cola - Metaphysical Cola, Can be poured and placed anywhere even inside photos, books, audio recordings, TV recordings, and TV shows. Once this his done any character or person who interacts with it, forever alters that recording or piece of media. Though thankfully testing has shown it is restricted to the recording or media piece affected and doesn’t affect any other showings of the media piece or people involved in the recordings. However it’s possible to reach into affected media and recordings and getting a brand new bottle of Omega Cola as a result. Researchers have noted it’s too sugary and doesn’t taste good at all so there’s really no point to having some. 

“Collector's Edition Sliced Meats” - A DVD collection case but contains disk shaped slices of various meat instead of DVDs. Extremely hazardous as looking at the meat for too long can cause you to only say “Meat” for the rest of your life. Researchers who experienced this have had to take amnestic treatment and mimetic therapy to fix their speech. 

“First Contact” - Box filled with strange powder, once contact is made with this powder you will immediately meet with a manifestation of your perfect soul mate. The O5 Council have ordered all Foundation staff to stay away from this product even if there are Staff members who are lonely.

“Mythic Farms Leprechaun Kidneys” - seemingly no different to the kidneys of a chipmunk but once consumed raw grant the consumer an unusual amount of luck for 24 hours. Does absolutely nothing if consumed after being cocked. Researchers often like to eat one that way if they encounter a hazardous anomaly they will normally end up okay due to the luck granted.

“Zalgitos” - Tiny pillows that are held inside a normal chip bag, are edible and have been noted to taste like Doritos by researchers. 

"Who Told You This Was Butter?" - Strange cream that greatly resembles "I can't believe it's not butter" product. Is a cream that can change flavor depending on what the user wants though it can never change into the flavor of butter.

"Individually Wrapped Wheat Squares" - a single slice of bread that has no anomalous properties as far as scans can tell. However, when consumed the user will not get hungry for 48 hours. Has been utilized by MTF units during long and harsh missions.

"Lil Meow Gruel For Cats" - Does not possess anomalous properties but instead is anomalous in the type of meat it has in the cat food such as "Lonely Hiker", "Healthy Wolf", and "Mammoth Chunks".

"Rabbit Shards" - shards of glass that are actually quite floppy but can be cooked into its typical hard glass form. Can also be consumed and tastes exactly like rabbit. Sometimes collected by MTF units as emergency rations though they are notably difficult to cook.

"Whale Song Deodorant" - Deodorant that smells like a cool and fresh breeze of the ocean side. Fills the wearer's head with lovely Whale Songs allowing them to be calm. Popular among Foundation staff that want to relax while smelling good.

"Tooth Slime" - Sentient slime in a toothpaste bottle that will latch onto the teeth of a nearby user and start eating the bad bacteria and cavities on the teeth. Has allows Foundation staff to get whiter and stronger teeth but the fact that the slime is alive makes them very uncomfortable and thus most don't use it often.

***

SCP-AIS was discovered in 2012 when a series of strange commercials telling the viewers about “Omega Mart” which sold otherworldly and often nonsensical products. Originally thought to be another vile plot of Group of Interest: Vikander-Kneed Technical Media; Foundation agents were sent to the location provided to investigate. However, upon arriving at [data expunged], Las Vegas they found SCP-AIS and a sign in the front which read the following.

“Omega Mart, the only store you’ll ever need to go to ever again. We possess everything you need, everything you don’t, and everything you’ll need eventually. Nothing is suspicious here and if you think otherwise, you're probably asking in the wrong place, so stop asking questions and instead answer one instead, Are We Cool Yet?”

SCP-AIS was immediately locked down in response though very rarely do members of Are We Cool Yet? ever actually attack and try to regain control. More often than not other Groups of Interest have tried to enter SCP-AIS in hopes of getting their hands on anomalous products and either exploit them or weaponize them.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[the-last-patch]

cw: blood, injury

[ File recieved: “PXV-OPOSSUM_EXTRACTION.ec2”, filesize 42.2GB.

COMP/CON system message: the following file format is DIRECT EXPERIENTIAL CAPTURE. Origin subjectivity: Fenrisúlfr-class non-human person CNS274-L3HK, “Hachiko.”

Subjectivity sync NOT AVAILABLE. Generating narrative transcript. Warning: some experiential data may be omitted or condensed in textual format. For alternate safe methods of accessing direct experiential data, contact GMS Client Support for supplemental software licensure. ]

Apprehension tugged at Hachiko’s mind from a dozen different directions while her quarterlight ejection drive spooled. 

Physically, she could feel sound coursing through her hull, its frequency soaring into the ultrasonic range with the continuous flow of energy being added to the drive’s charge. One syllable, sung in rising pitch until the individual oscillations were packed together so tightly that they merged into a sustained mosquito whine. 

Near her, she could feel the presence of her three siblings as a comfortable network of Legionspace traffic, radar returns, and sensor data. An hour ago, as a single unit, they had pivoted in the darkness of space as they entered the system, pointing their drives toward their destination. Soon, following a span of time calculated down to the nanosecond, they would fire their drives and their velocity relative to Upsilon-XVII would change from .25c to the precise speed they needed to enter geosynchronous orbit. 

Then what? In realtime, Luna Wing’s final transit duration, from receiving the transmission to arriving at the scene, would be twelve hours and sixteen minutes.

In all likelihood, he was frozen by now. 

Hachiko knew it, but couldn’t afford to feel it. Instead, she accessed the transmissions from his Omnihook for the thousandth time, trying to prepare herself for what she would find. 

Footage appeared to her. Opossum—Sokaris, heavily wounded, slumped forward. Neural interface jacks and hardsuit plugs broken along his shoulders. Blood, hydraulic fluid, and saline solution smeared together. Medical prognoses extrapolated from a tiny display and what could be seen of his broken body. She couldn’t tell if he still had life support, but what was left of his hardsuit would at least provide insulation. There was an unidentified stimulant entering his bloodstream, and she had no idea whether that had become an asset or a danger in the hours which followed. 

Gloved hand, a woman’s voice, the chassis named Kaprosuchus. Luna 1, Grey, had analyzed the frame, examined the geometry of the armor, and believed a firing solution existed. Hachi had attempted to analyze the woman, and still struggled to connect the voice recording to the vicious mass of teeth and claws on-camera. 

Summoning her avatar, Hachiko narrowed her eyes. Until she arrived onsite, Hachiko couldn't know for certain whether this person, Gatorskin, had murdered Sokaris or saved his life. Whoever she was, she wasn’t predictable. 

< L1 Grey: Fifteen seconds. Standby for NLS deceleration eject on my mark. >

< L2 Garmr: Got it. >

< L3 Hachiko: Okay. >

< L4 Ma’ii: Understood. >

Dismissing the transmission files, Hachiko retrieved another. An image of Opossum standing in the light with a wall of ice behind him, grinning.

It occurred to her that she barely knew him--but he was one of the few humans to have spoken to her as a person, not a war machine. He was another person made, exploited, and discarded by Smith-Shimano. He was a friend. She had decided that this was more than enough. 

So had her siblings. 

< L1 Grey: Bolt. >

In the moment she fired her ejection drive, Hachiko wore her fighter as her body. She felt the mosquito whine die as an overwhelming, almost unreal burst of acceleration shifted her into another frame of reference. 

__

From black nothingness, a planet snapped into existence, its sunward face gleaming beneath Hachiko’s fuselage. Far away, through passive sensors, Hachiko could make out a thin spindle of metal and exotic materials stretching from the planet’s surface up to the same altitude they occupied in geosynchronous orbit. Along its length, ship-sized platforms rose and descended, loaded with cargo. At its apex was a city-sized space station surrounded by bright sparks of high-energy radiation—the drive signatures of freighters and escort craft, coming and going. 

When Hachiko turned her infrared sensors to the station, she felt covers automatically snap shut to protect the higher-sensitivity instruments. The infrared energy pouring from the station was so intense that it drowned her entire display in harsh white light. Her COMP/CON spoke up.

[ Fox_3: Warning: artificial radiant heat hazard detected. For your safety, I have added navigational aids to define unsafe proximity. ]

< L3 Hachiko: Thanks, Fox. Designate the station and surrounding vessels as potential hostile contacts of unknown capability. Keep an eye on them. >

[ Fox_3: Yes, ma’am. ]

Hachiko magnified her view of the station and filtered out the overwhelming infrared light. A vast array of high-powered heat projectors studded the side of the station facing the planet, separated by a forest of glowing red radiator fronds. The projectors’ overlapping cones of infrared energy were focused on a continent-sized area in the northern hemisphere of the world. Gray clouds blanketed the landscape there, swirling out through the planet’s atmosphere. 

< L4 Ma’ii: Well, there’s our terraforming station. What do we know about it? >

< L3 Hachiko: He called it Helios. Nerve center for the Kalvis Group’s operations here. Center of a project to artificially raise ambient ecological temperatures and make the climate more tolerable for humans. Able to maintain a sizable sector of the world above 0°C by itself. >

< L2 Garmr: Damn. That’s some serious manna. Kid picked a hell of a fight. >

< L3 Hachiko: His company accepted a contract. That wasn’t his choice. >

< L2 Garmr: Could’ve bailed out. Humans get to pick where they work, remember? >

< L3 Hachiko: It wasn’t like that. This wasn’t just an employer; you didn’t talk to him. Actually, no, you did! To complain about his taste in music. >

< L2 Garmr: His taste? You’re the one who’s been on this Old Cradle kick since you— >

< L1 Grey: Let’s keep it focused, please. I’m tagging armaments on the station. Railgun batteries, point-defense cannons, laser emplacements, flyswatter pods. Looks like general market tech, but they can throw a lot of it at once. Garmr, I want you to start taking a look at those escort vessels. Ma’ii, throw them off our scent if you can. There’s no way they didn’t detect the radiation burst when we decelerated. It’s only a matter of time before they spot us, and I want to know the instant we get pinged. Hachiko, pull up those coordinates and start surveying the ground. The sooner we get out of orbit, the better. Let us know when you find him; we’ll follow your lead. >

< L2 Garmr: On it. >

< L4 Ma’ii: Affirmative. Prepping ECMs. >

< L3 Hachiko: Already on it. >

The equatorial landmasses and seas below were crusted with ice, giving off a piercing white glare of reflected sunlight. Applying brightness filters to better survey the landscape, Hachiko began searching.

Sector by sector, carefully angling her active radar to avoid generating detectable noise, Hachiko began scanning the vicinity of the coordinates Gator had transmitted. If the footage of the battle was anything to go by, certain factors should have been present. Exposed coldcores, synthetic materials used in mech construction, and polymer masses extruded by Sokaris’s Kobold, among other things. All materials with particular reflective properties, very different from the surrounding snow, ice, and rock. If she was right, the site of the battle should be glaringly obvious. It was simply a matter of finding the right spot…

< L4 Ma’ii: We’ve got pings. Switch to active ECM. >

< L1 Grey: Hachi? >

< L3 Hachiko: I think I’ve got something. Need a moment to verify. >

< L2 Garmr: You better make it quick. There’s an OTC controller on broadcast, addressing some very pointed questions to nobody in particular. >

< L3 Hachiko: I have it. Confirm sensor acquisition, transmitting geoloc data. On me. >

___

Descending to the ground, Hachiko deployed her landing gear and opened the doors to her ordnance bay. She felt the subaltern drop free from her hull, switched to it mid-drop, and landed on her feet. 

Walking across open ground set her on edge. She felt slow, so slow that she might as well have been stationary. Dizzyingly close to the long, flat expanse of snow. Exposed, terrifyingly, to the open sky. Her subaltern held its laser pistol at low ready and flicked the power on, as though it would help if this turned out to be an ambush. If it was, Garmr, Ma’ii, and Grey would make UNS pay for it, but she doubted she’d be able to take off before they got to her.

As she crept between ruined chassis, craters, and building-sized heaps of hardened polymer, the true brutality of mech combat suddenly became apparent to her. Enormous gashes had been cut into the snow and earth beneath, the telltale signs of melee combat. She walked past the wreck of a Blackbeard, matte black with yellow accents, with a nanocarbon sword plunged in the snow beside it which was nearly three times as long as her subaltern was tall. There was still steam rising from its melted reactor. 

Frozen in the act of swatting a Gilgamesh’s combat knife away, a Tokugawa frame knelt over its opponent. Three enormous talons had ripped its back open, destroying it as it grappled with the Gilgamesh. Its plasma torches had connected with the Gilgamesh’s cockpit before losing power, dealing a killing blow; the cockpit hatch had melted and collapsed inward, crushing the pilot. The Tokugawa’s superstructure had been rebuilt by hand, apparently several times over, resulting in a strange visual jumble of spare parts, salvaged armor plating, and patch jobs. 

Must be Hotshot, then, thought Hachiko. She didn’t have the nerve to check the cockpit. She was all but certain what she’d find. 

Blades, claws, and plasma torches. This wasn’t the sort of combat she knew. In space or in the air, “the enemy” meant only a set of distant radar contacts. The killing was usually instantaneous; a railgun strike could kill a human pilot well before their nervous system ever registered the impact. This, on the other hand, was more like fighting in Legionspace. Tearing directly at the enemy, cruel and personal.

She imagined her casket being ripped free from her fuselage, caught between the teeth of Gator’s mech as Sokaris’s Kobold had been. A wave of horror washed over her, as did an intuitive, visceral understanding of what humans used combat stims for. To endure this, to survive it. It was their version of personality partitioning. They couldn’t simply cordon off their terror, their kindness, or any of the things which made them suboptimal combatants, they literally had to alter their own brain chemistry to do so. 

But Hachiko didn’t. To her, shedding it all was second nature. With a rapidity that surprised her, she hurled the thought away. 

There was a mass of slag shaped into a static fortification, standing almost two stories high, with a pair of Patchwork mechs lying inside. A Lancaster and a Viceroy, both destroyed when one side of the fortification was breached.  

Enormous clawed footprints, filled partially with snow, led around the fortress’s side. Tracking them around the structure’s western flank, pistol at the ready, Hachiko found herself standing over him. 

His Kobold was dusted with snow, sprawled on the ground with its weapons flung aside. Its armor plating was melted and deformed, and a series of punctures along its chest went straight through to his hardsuit. Welded to one shoulder was a fresh, undamaged plate of matte black armor. On the plate was a decal: a long set of crocodilian jaws with rows of serrated teeth, with an icon of a wide eye between them. 

Beneath the Kobold’s breached hatch, she could see a section of Sokaris’s face. Dried blood crusted his chin, flowing down from a ragged wound in his right cheek which had torn a section of skin away. His skin was pale, lips turning blue with the cold. 

Hachiko suddenly understood something about the human who called herself Gatorskin. She had done this to him, and in the aftermath, had been presented with the same set of visual data. 

“He’s kind of cute like this,” she’d said. 

In Legionspace, Hachiko realized that she had summoned her avatar without realizing it. She felt her own face contorted into a snarl of rage and disgust, her fangs clenching so tightly that it felt like they might shatter. She partitioned the emotions away, but allowed a section of herself to experience them. It wasn’t the right time to let them free. 

The subaltern’s lidar built a realtime three-dimensional image of Sokaris’s face, and managed to detect a subtle few millimeters of motion as he drew in a slow, ragged breath. 

In the same motion, Hachiko fired her thrusters and sprinted awkwardly toward him, the subaltern’s feet catching in the snow. 

< L3 Hachiko: I’ve got him! He’s alive! >

< L2 Garmr: I’ll be damned. >

< L4 Ma’ii: audio transcription - Ma’ii laughs. Well, then. That’s a relief. >

< L1 Grey: Outstanding. Let’s get him taken care of. >

< L3 Hachiko: Working on it now. He’s hurt bad; we’re going to be here for a while. >

Hachiko did not partition her joy away. She allowed herself to experience it while she vectored her maneuvering thrusters to touch down beside her subaltern, which had already begun dragging the Kobold across the ice to her ordnance bay.

As she hoisted his frame into the bay with her subaltern, hoping that any broken bones would be held rigid by his hardsuit’s medical systems, she took the main drives offline and brought up anti-icing systems at full power, circulating heated reactor coolant through the hull. As the bay doors closed, she felt the temperature inside beginning to rise. 

Bringing up a row of lights, she set about retrieving correctives from emergency compartments and applying them. Spraying biofoam into the suit punctures, connecting his frame’s medical systems to the fighter’s computers, dispensing medical whitewash. Strangely, the Kobold’s firmware didn’t reject the connection; its IFF didn’t regard her as hostile. 

Slowly, Sokaris began to stabilize. His breathing and heart rate became steady, and his internal temperature began to rise. 

Hachiko looked down and detected motion. 

“P.XV? Sokaris, can you hear me?” She said. “It’s alright, you’re safe.”

(@luna-wing-cns274 hey Argo!)

[Allied Hardware Detected]

[Patching In…]

[Success]

[…Thank you, L3]

[Now Playing - “Opossum”]

[Audio Only]

{L3} P.XV? Sokaris, can you hear me? It’s alright, you’re safe.

<A sudden, shrill noise can be heard, akin to the sound of metal being dragged across more metal. It stops as suddenly as it had started, and “Opossum” begins to speak, or attempts to. The beginning of a word can be heard, but quickly devolves into a hollow vocalization. It’s as if he is attempting to speak, but his body forbids him to do so.>

<Silence creeps across the room, “Opossum” ceased his attempts at speaking and seemed to take a moment to think. Just as swiftly as the silence fell, it is once again interrupted by the shrill noise. It then pauses, and resumes, however it is not random. There is a certain rhythm to the scraping. Some are prolonged, and others staccato. “Opossum” then attempts to speak again>

{“Opossum”} D..it..

<His voice is hoarse and dry, each sound barely audible. Every letter a battle, and each word a war.>

{“Opossum”} D..ah..

<As he trails off, he begins to cough. The sound generated is guttural and unpleasant. It was clear that the pain generated, was most likely just as bad as it sounded, if not worse.>

<The rhythmic scratching and tapping continues, the pattern much more distinct than before. It is clearly a code of some sort, proven through “Opossum’s” Omnihook.>

[Rhythm Recognized]

[Developing Lyrics]

[Success]

[Now Playing - “Opossum, Instrumental Ver.”]

<The rhythmic tapping continues as it did previously, but as it does a robotic voice speaks, translating the “song” into words>

{“Opossum”} ..-. .-. .. . -. -.. ..--..

[System] Friend?

[virtie333]

WIP Wednesday

Well, I guess...

“Is that the Millennium Falcon?”

The Millennium Falcon? She’d heard of that ship.

“Well, that explains why BB-8 is here,” Poe said, a laugh in his voice. “The General is gonna be pissed.”

“Or maybe not,” Karè interjected. “It’s always been one way or the other with those two.”

Rey had no clue what they were all talking about. If memory served, the Millennium Falcon had achieved fame thanks to the smuggler turned rebel Han Solo. Which meant the General probably knew him. Or more?

Suddenly, a rather ominous looking Upsilon class shuttle rose from the surface behind the castle, flanked by several TIEs.

“Ren!” Poe said, venom in his voice.

“Should we go after him?” Snap asked.

“Negative!” Poe responded. “I just got a transmission from BB-8. He’s in the forest hiding, and the surviving civilians are safe. We’ve done our job. For now.” Rey could tell from the sound of his voice he would love nothing better than to blast that ship out of the sky, but it wouldn’t be an easy thing to do, and it wasn’t worth the effort right now.

[nightmarefuele]

@etoilebleu

Mists cling to mesosphere, thin as morning draperies. Clouds are like flotsam, floating in wind, while jellies of various genera suckle the edges of an Upsilon-class command shuttle’s posterior windows. When Inuja surfaces beneath its occupants’ roving eyes, each of indeterminate origin, her garden of marble Eden is no more a disc than a first shadow is the night. She blooms with frost-hued suns, and offers up for her unheralded visitors her sequins of architectural fantasy. There are gods who have not spoken so elegantly.

Ren gives himself over to looking as if rousing himself from a dream: he once saw such a place through youth’s eyes.

Now, that place has died with the youth and his memory. Hanging mists and flotsam clouds disperse as darkness descends; white temples, still steepled in the old ways of easy, nurturing faith, have gone to gray, and stand instead upon the shoulders of time-eaten mountains. The only dawn here is the First Order’s awakening age. The deep, predatory rumble of Inuja’s anchoring visitor.

“Something to look at,” the one they call Machaera—“weapon,” simple and crude, cruel in that way only ignorants can be—murmurs from his window, the shuttle’s belly. He is not the murmuring kind, his is a violent presence, his brawn instates this clearly. But he is surfacing on the edges of an evolution, exquisite detail of melee and musculature that he is; so he murmurs all the same.

Across Machaera, the Axis’ helm glistens. Her’s is an uninterrupted glaze of indeterminate black material, wrapping down around her skull. Perhaps it seeps down between her ultrachrome collar and flesh—whatever flesh hers is—and braids with her skeleton.

“You should’ve called on Surri,” she says. Ren tastes the brine of her disgust wherever it rains: Down on this nest of vipers—politicians—she perceives. And, perhaps, on him.

He affords her no true answer. They both know the Ren has called Surri-diae to meet other ends. Instead, Ren lifts his helm to the shuttle’s frontal cortex as he comes to. As gravity skips along the vessel’s chromium-plated plumonodes like Salix fronds. As the command shuttle raises its Upsilon wings, and finds its rhythm in the pressurized air fields—indiscernible, lulling teeth of the Inujan Royal aerodrome—below.

The helm’s apparatuses click. Some darker, deeper rhythm, an otherly pressure sliding into place. His timbre is of kinds bred for heralding nightfall. Displace dawn with decay. Within it now holds at once flat derision, and discomfiting tenderness.

“Diae is not the sole deceiver among us,” Ren responds. “Take her place.”

***

To the outer witness, the command shuttle’s landing may well look like a claiming of grounds. The way black laminasteel kisses marble floors is no kiss between lovers: it’s violent, domineering. It dispenses all pretense of greeting as effusively as it throws up dirt and grass off the landing aisle’s cliff-borne sides. When the dust settles, the thing tosses a final breath to uneasy winds before retracting. All what remains is pregnant silence.

This is no precursor. There is no message in the Upsilon’s sheathed winds. This is nothing out of an Order officer’s repertoire. This smells more like death, extending its digits. Feel out the textures writ before it like brail.

Mechanical voice coughs from ship’s hatch. A slender mount descends, black and unspooling, a tongue stamped in soot and lead. Steam, layering the mist.

The Ren sift free, like inverted fireflies.

They emerge as one, two do not linger behind the first. A singular sort of matrimony outlines their gradations of movement. But he who stands central, and tallest between them—whose powerful gait is limned with prowling deliberation—could not be more palpably the head of whatever body he thus commands, than in his present silence.

Unmoving, Ren probes each of them; this reception come to greet his augural company on their precious, ancient prow. The two others wait at his sides, unwavering as their purpose. They’ll be doing the same.

When he does draw forth, he speaks more to the dusk mist than to its people: “Who among you serves as Inuja’s noble crown?”

[bastardblvd]

okay i just had a ridiculous idea (someone may have already said something similar and if so, i’m sorry!) but i’m thinking about a slimeball fraternity. is there even a college in grimetown? nah, but greek life is where it’s at. the frat is kappa upsilon mu—kum—and throws the raddest (grossest) parties in all of grimetown.

one of the frat brothers is portgas d. ace. ace flunked out of college years ago—he slept through all his classes because he’s narcoleptic—but he wants an authentic college experience: chilling with his bros all day, pounding beer at night, and making questionable life decisions. another frat brother is trafalgar d. water law. he’s a “medical student” who is creepily into human anatomy (he has an obsession with serial killers and looooves to chat about them on dates). he also nightlights as the frat’s resident stoner!

@ryndicate wrote about the grimetown frat in their "heatwave" fic!

THIS IS MAKING ME WHEEZE THOUGH KAE, THE "KUM" FRAT 😭 ace seems like the perfect fit in this environment, it kills me that he's technically been out of college for years and still hangs around. new frat bros come and go (kum and go?) over the years but ace will ALWAYS be passed out on the ratty couch.

[askrobouteguilliman40k]

The Command Deck is buzzing with activity. Tech-Priests, officers, and ensigns all coordinate in chaotic organization, moving from station to station at a pace that isn't quite a jog but certainly is faster than a walk.

"Controlled Warp translation at point zero-two-three," the officer assigned to the Auspex Arrays reports evenly. The Gunnery Captain cautiously orders Lance batteries brought to half-power and Void-shields raised as the Auspex scans the emerging vessel.

"Lance batteries at half-power," the Magos in charge of the Gloriana's formidable complement of Engiseers reports.

"Confirming friendly identification and Ultramarine heraldry. Tentative identification as Ultramarine Strike Cruiser Unerring Strike."

"We're being hailed," the Communications Officer reports. "Encryption Keymark 23-Upsilon-Four-Sierra, unique to Scout Team Oniroi of the Tenth Company. Patching through... they're requesting to come aboard."

"Permissions granted," the Master of the Hangar replies. "Blade Squadron will escort them to Hangar 2."

"Secondary Warp translation, controlled, point zero two-two in formation with the Unerring Strike." The Auspex Officer's voice remains steadily even.

"Raise Lance batteries to sixty percent power and Void shields to full," the Gunnery Officer orders.

"Belay that order, Gunnery. Unerring Strike reports secondary Warp translation as a secondary vessel belonging to the Voidstriders Space Marine Chapter under the name Endless Expanse," Communications orders. "Opening a channel with them now."

"Auspex Arrays confirm secondary vessel to be the Vanguard-class Light Cruiser Endless Expanse."

"They claim to be escorting a group of emissaries from the Tuatha, and request to come aboard."

"Tell them to join with the Unerring Strike's Thunderhawks," the Master of the Hangar orders.

///

The three transports that set down in Hangar 2 are an exercise in variety. The first, carrying Scout Team Oniroi, shows signs of battle damage but is ultimately difficult to distinguish from the rest of the docked fighter-bombers and transports. Blackened dots on the wing from las-fire serve as informal proof of valour, as does the partially-melted outer armour.

The two Valkyries, on the other hand, could not stand out more.

The first is clearly heavily retrofitted. Golden Aquilas, typical on Valkyries bequeathed to Sisters of Battle, have been covered in black-and-dark green camouflage paint on the wings, and extra weapon mounts have been fixed to the undersides, which bear three extra rocket pods on each side. What appear to be twinlinked lascannons poke out from beneath the cockpit, which is blackened from the outside. "LXVI" has been painted in dark grey on the rearmost aileron. The cargo hold has small lengths of cord to hold onto in flight and crash netting against the far wall keeping several weeks worth of provisions secure with magnetic locks and the force of the net. The lights have all been removed. Upon closer inspection, you can see a small vox-link poking out beside the lascannon barrels.

The second Valkyrie has fewer modifications. If you had to guess, it was a former Guard Valkyrie, judging from the lack of embossed double-headed eagles. It still has all the lights removed, and the hull is still covered in the same type of camouflage paint, but the lascannons beside the cockpit have been heavily upgraded (if the extra bulk is anything to go by) and what appears to be a miniature Auspex array combined with a long-range vox-link has replaced the nose-guns. In the place of rocket pods are several heavy missiles. You recognize them only vaguely; anti-tank guided munitions, you think, though you cannot tell if these are customized somehow.

The fact that these Valkyries launched from an Astartes vessel is not lost on you, either.

As the Valkyries touch down and the cargo holds open, you get your first look at what your scouts have deemed the Order of the Black Watch.

The leader of the group looks like a cross between a Sister of Battle and an Astartes. Her head is badly scarred and her white hair is close-shaven, with not-quite-washed-off camouflage paint still sticking to the outer reaches of her face. Her armor shares the same camouflage pattern as the Valkyries, but is in itself an oddity; the suit is clearly that of a Marine, but has been modified to better fit a Sister's slimmer build. The pauldrons appear to be taken from Scout armor, with acid scars dotting where the symbol of the Voidstriders would have been. Yet, this Sister moves in the armor with the grace of a Marine—something that should be impossible.

Behind the leader is a squad of what are clearly elite troops. Guardsmen, with carapace armor dotted with extra magazine pouches and bandoliers, and two Space Marines with their heraldry scored off by acids and replaced with a more muted version. One is shorter than the other by perhaps a foot, and has slimmer armor dotted with battle-scars. One pauldron bears several deep gashes through the plate.

The leader kneels before you. "Lord-Commander. We stand with the Imperium. We kneel before your fire."

Guilliman is wary, as always when dealing with the religious he must tread carefully.

"Rise and tell me about yourself." He says softly.

[dentistinforesthills]

Surgical Gum Treatments Queens

Dr. Mark Schlesinger received his Doctorate in Dental Surgery from the New York University College of Dentistry, where he graduated at the top of his class. He was elected into the Omicron Kappa Upsilon Dental Honor Society and graduated with distinction as the recipient of the Quintessence Award for Outstanding Achievement in Periodontics. Dr. Schlesinger went on to complete an additional three years of extensive specialty training in the prestigious Advanced Education Program in Periodontics and Implant Dentistry at the New York University College of Dentistry. As a result of his exemplary leadership skills, he was elected as the Chief Resident of the residency program and upon graduation was honored with both the Leadership and Clinical Excellence Awards, historically given to two graduates, rather than one. After completing specialty training, Dr. Schlesinger became a Diplomate of the American Board of Periodontology. A Diplomate is a periodontist who has made significant achievements beyond the mandatory educational requirements of the specialty and who is certified by the American Board of Periodontology. He is also a Fellow of the World Clinical Laser Institute, a distinction given to dentists who have demonstrated a comprehensive knowledge of lasers and their applications in dentistry, as well as a commitment to the advancement of laser dentistry. Dr. Schlesinger is also licensed in the State of New York to perform conscious sedation.

[alphamecha-mkii]

[verdantfawnau]

Character Tag Links

(and whose kid(s) they are if they're a fankid)

Golden Deer Class

Claude + Flayn = Najm and Saoirse

Hilda + [spoilers] = Hauke

Balthus + Golnaz (Nader's daughter) = Hala (and Hecate)

Lorenz + Mercedes = Rosalie

Liselotte

Jacob

Freja

Blue Lion Class

Felix + Leonie = Livia

Ashe + Hapi = Ely (and Christophe etc.)

Sabine

Denis

Alain

Kel

Mona

Alison

Black Eagle Class

Ferdinand + Constance = Xavier

Hubert + Bernadetta = Varinia

Edgar

Linhardt + Marianne = Erhardt

Caspar + Petra = Gabriel (and Venetia, Eta, Dana etc.)

Yuri + Dorothea = Anastasia

[more to come]

Agarthans

Eos

Sigma

Chi

Mu

Tau

Alpha

Upsilon

Lambda

Phi

[more to come]

Agarthan Elders

Cleostratus

Notos

Eurus

Boreas

Zephyrus

Other Characters

Dimitri + Annette = Lucille

[cinnnamongrl]

sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 2)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: part 2 to this fic.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, suggestive themes/language, kissing (gasp) [this series will contain smut later on- warnings will be listed accordingly]

author’s note: part two everybody clap. this is a little shorter but part 3 will make up for it .. wink wink. have fun and lmk all ur thoughts<33

was ellie delusional? was she a complete idiot for thinking there was something sapphic that was occurring between the two of you? did she dream up the flirting, the glances at her hands and quickened heartbeat visible through your dress when her face was close to yours? she didn’t know. all she knew was she had been tied up in too many situations where she’d misread signals and falsely assumed a girl was queer and interested to then find out she was straight, or involved with a guy. and fuck going through that again. so she decided to distance herself. luckily for her, there hadn’t been any mandatory eta meets lately and you didn’t share any classes together. her plan to leave you alone and let you pursue this chad guy was going perfectly.

you felt like shit. you felt like the worlds biggest asshole for telling everyone you had a crush on a guy 3 minutes after ellie’s mouth was a few inches from yours, and not even talking to her after to maybe explain that, hey, i don’t even know who chad is. i was just being a pussy. now can we go back to where you were pressed up against me in the bathroom? another fun consequence of your lie was now having to pretend you knew who chad peters was when your sorority sisters would prod you for details on your big crush on him. you’d managed to work out through their giggly discussions that he was:

1. tall.

2. well endowed. (lucky you!)

3. a football player.

4. president of kappa upsilon sigma fraternity. the same fraternity your dad had been a part of.

fuck chad peters for existing and being the reason ellie wasn’t talking to you anymore.

you laid on your bed with yours and ellie’s chat open on your phone. your heard swirled with different excuses to use to text her, trying to silence your pride. it was your fault she was avoiding you anyway, you’d embarrassed her and hadn’t even followed up with an apology, instead you let your parent’s ideals and the pressure you put on yourself mess with your head.

fuck this.

she didn’t tell you to fuck off so you considered that a win. it had been 17 minutes since you sent the last text, so you assumed the conversation was over. still, you picked up your phone every few minutes to check she hadn’t texted again. it was a natural place for the conversation to end, but… what if she was still upset with you? you threw your head dramatically into your pillow like a woman scorned.

curse your stupid love heart hand emojis, ellie thought. she tried to be chill and think about important things like the next paragraph on her text book, or replying to a text from emilia about some eta thing, or doing something about the clothes pile on her floor from 2 weeks ago. but she was sat in her desk chair analysing your emojis. which made her think about you. which made her think about the little eyebrow scrunch you did when you pretended to be annoyed with her, which made her think about your chest almost pressing into hers in the bathroom, which made her think about your neck, how it might look with-

KNOCK KNOCK

ellie scanned her room, kicked the pile of clothes into the corner, adjusted the hood of her grey hoodie and walked to the door. she opened it and was met with you, looking slightly awkward but in an (annoyingly) endearing way. she looked down at your hands. a box of capri-suns. a laugh escaped her throat. “hi” your voice a little unsure. “listen i know you’re studying i just thought i’d bring this to you it’s a joke because we talked about capri-suns sorry i’ll go i just thought it would be funny but i’m probably disturbing you so i’ll see you soon maybe y’know because of e-“ “come in” she cut you off.

you took in a breath and tentatively walked past her outstretched hand. you stood in the middle of her room, still processing that you’d asked ellie’s step sister to tell you where her dorm room was like a creep and then ran there to give her a gift from a stupid inside joke. “i’ll leave in a minute i just,” you thought for a second. you just what? you pointed a weak hand at the box of capri-suns in your other hand. she smiled slightly “i see. thank you.” she took the box from your hand and started to rip it open as she sat down in her desk chair. you watched her for a few seconds before a brightly coloured pouch came flying at you, your instincts managing to kick in at the last minute so your hand could shoot out and clutch it against your torso, an action that lacked any hint of grace. ellie was visibly holding in a laugh as she pierced the tiny straw through her own drink. “don’t laugh! you didn’t give me any warning!” you blurted. “ok this is your warning. i’m going to throw a capri-sun at you.” not even half a second later another flash of colour shot towards you and you held you hand up in front of your face in protection. the pouch hit the floor with a gentle thud and you picked it up and stared at ellie who was now openly snickering at you. “you’re” you aimed it at her stomach “a dick” SMACK.

“ow!” she held the drink to her and looked up at you in disbelief before standing to her feet, eyes on you. a little jump of playful fear zapped through you and she grabbed a handful of capri-suns out the box and one after the other threw them towards you, no real force behind the throws. you backed away giggling until the backs of your knees met her bed and you fell back onto it. ellie didn’t let up her attack and continued walking towards you, fourth capri-sun hitting your shoulder a little harder than she’d anticipated. you clutched it theatrically and turned away from her, face pressed into her bed and keeping your body balled up like you’d been shot. a wave of panic went through ellie at the thought of accidentally hurting you. she placed herself next to you on the bed and put her hand on your back nervously “hey are you..” “HA” you lifted suddenly and held her body down onto the bed with your leg and repeatedly hit the capri-sun onto her arm, laughing at your own genius. ‘hey hey hey’ ellie spoke through her laughter and grabbed a hold of your arms, successfully pacifying you.

she looked at the sight of you above her, grinning, your chest rising and falling quickly. the memory of your truth or dare confession struck her. she let go of your arms and cleared her throat, sitting up slightly, making you remove your leg from her. you noticed her switch and before your brain could have an input your mouth got there first;

“i don’t like that guy.” you babbled. ellie stared at you. “what?” “that guy. chad. i didn’t even know a chad, it was the first name that came to mind.” “wh-“ she blinked a few times “what are you saying?” you adjusted yourself so you were sat on your knees. “i made up a fake crush when emilia asked because i got scared.” ellie frowned, “scared of what?” “you.” a short laugh escaped her, the confusion obvious on her features. “me?” “yes, scared of you and…” “and what?” her eyes were still fixed on you and it took great effort to stop yourself from doting upon her freckles and her pretty lips “..the way you make me feel.” you looked down. ellie’s tone changed, there was a depth to her voice. “and how’s that?” your eyes remained focused in on a crease in her sheets. “like..” “hey, look at me.” she raised your chin with her index finger. you complied. and she wanted to hear you talk but god did she also want to kiss you right now.

“..fuzzy. and all hot and nervous and i haven’t stopped thinking about you since i met you which is stupid and scary and-” and then her lips were on yours, it was soft and sweet and it gave you butterflies. it was delicate and gentle and tender, until it wasn’t. until it was deepening, her tongue was meeting yours and you had butterflies in a whole new way. her hand found your face and she cupped your jaw while the other made it’s way to the back of your neck, the intensity of both her hands holding you making your head spin a little. she kissed you with all the desperation of a man starved and yet all the technique that made it seem like she already knew exactly what your body wanted from her.

feeling suddenly restricted in the sitting position on your knees you leaned into the kiss and placed your hands either side of her, lifting your ass from your legs and leaning into her on all fours, mouth not leaving hers. ellie felt your body shift and broke away from you, noticing your new position. “you.. can’t do that” she let out breathlessly. “d-do what?” you were suddenly hyper aware of your body, realising that you probably did look a little pathetic in near-enough doggy position while you’re kissing for the first time. “because i want to be respectful,” she calmed her breathing slightly “but the way you look now is making me have not so respectful thoughts” your face heated and let out a shy giggle. “..sorry.” the corner of her mouth lifted into a smile. you continued “but uh… you don’t have to be respectful… if you don’t want.” you looked up at her and absentmindedly brought your bottom lip to chew on at your nervous attempt at playful seduction. ellie looked down at your mouth and within the beat she’d captured it with her own, kissing you hard again and hands stoking up your arms that were still held up on her bed.

part 3

taglist: @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @nil-eena @girlfr1endism

[dzthenerd490]

File: Parasyte

SCP#: AQO

Code Name: Space Parasites from the Unknown

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Thanks to the efforts of Mobile Task Force Apollo-1 "Orion's Belt", containment of SCP-AQO is considered 98% complete. However, the remaining 2% is hypothesized to consist of at least 140 million instances of SCP-AQO. Mobile Task Force units, Foundation Agents, and Foundation Observation staff are to be on high alert to find and contain any inactive instances of SCP-AQO. If an instance of SCP-AQO is found active, they are to contain the instance alive if restraining/ disabling it is possible but kill the instance if impossible. 

Inactive SCP-AQO instances are contained in the various Foundation Space Stations most containing anywhere between 5 million to 200 million depending on storage capabilities. Unfortunately, a majority of captured inactive SCP-AQO instances had to be incinerated due to the Foundation lacking the capabilities to contain all of them.

Active Instances of SCP-AQO have been contained at Foundation Space Station: Upsilon Alpha Beta. Each SCP-AQO instance is contained in the living quarters of the Space Station and are watched over by AFA-2 Security of the Space Station. The areas dividing SCP-AQO instances "containment" section and the Foundation section of the Space Station have been locked down and crudely locked up due to SCP-AQO's spontaneous arrival into our solar system. Currently no containment measures have been presented to have SCP-AQO instance moved to the containment of any Foundation Site. 

Description: SCP-AQO is a swarm of large spore like orbs that have floated through space and for whatever reason, suddenly surrounded earth and slowly descended onto the surface. Those that have either made it to the surface or managed to get into physical contact with an unfortunate MTF Apollo-1 unit will "activate". Upon "activation" SCP-AQO will open and release the occupant inside which is a strange worm like parasite about 1 centimeter in length with anywhere between 12 to 20 eyes and has a metal like drill front end. Once the worm is free it will quickly try to get onto the one who activated it and drill into their body preferably the head. The SCP-AQO instance must achieve this by 5 to 10 minutes afterwards it will either dry out or be forced to fuse with whatever organic material is closest to it. 

Once SCP-AQO has fused itself with organic material it is able to manipulate that organic material as well as all organic material in a 50-to-60-centimeter radius. Of course, this means that if the SCP-AQO is able to reach the head it will be able to take over everything on it including the brain. Once SCP-AQO has taken over the head it will be able to move the body without limitations and therefore has entirely replaced the host. However, this does not mean that SCP-AQO can live without the hosts body, it doesn't need a brain, but it does need organs such as the heart, lungs, stomach, and other such vital organs. 

What makes SCP-AQO so dangerous isn't its ability to seemingly replace humans instantly, but its ability to change shape at will. As stated earlier once SCP-AQO take over all organic material within a 50-to-60-centimeter radius but afterwards it is able to freely change shape and form of the infected organic material. The instance is even able to heavily condense the organic material until its seemingly no different to steel. Furthermore, SCP-AQO is able to change its cells without any biological limits, changing the species, texture, function, and even able to replicate organs with 100% accuracy and even greater functionality. Interestingly, SCP-AQO instances can create brains for themselves that function much better, learn faster, have greater memory, and have instantaneous reactions as well as decision making. All of this essentially makes them apex predators against humanity. 

Because of infected SCP-AQO instances it can be easily believed that they possess "Deus Cellulis" which are super cells that can act as a while body by itself, however this is not true. As stated, earlier SCP-AQO needs its host's body and by extension its organs to survive. As such if an SCP-AQO instance is separated from its host it will start dying right away. Like its worm form, an SCP-AQO instance cannot survive on its own, it will dry up and die after 5 to 10 minutes of being separated from the body. Furthermore unlike "Deus Cellulis" SCP-AQO is unable to regenerate form loss of biomass and it is unable to gain more biomass via consumption. The best way to kill an SCP-AQO instance is to use energy-based attacks such as fire or electricity.  

SCP-AQO was discovered in 1988 when Foundation Space Stations and Ships saw the swarm of inactive SCP-AQO instances floating toward our solar system. The Foundation quickly sent out ships to capture and contain as many of the instances as possible for research purposes. However heavy reinforcements were deployed to the effort when it was realized that they were heading towards earth and were slowly surrounding it to descend to the surface. Though the containment effort was complete with a 98% success some MTF Apollo-1 units as well as Foundation Space Division Researchers were infected by SCP-AQO and had to be quarantined right away. It was because of them that we are able to understand the full extent of SCP-AQO's anomalous properties as well as how to effectively kill one. 

Currently there are still 29 instances left alive and all are being tested at Foundation Space Station Upsilon Alpha Beta. Due to the intelligence of SCP-AQO instances, they were quickly sedated and placed chemical bombs in their bodies that upon activation would shut down all their organs and kill them in a matter of seconds. Furthermore Dr. Sharma requested an interview with one of the instances to see how far their intelligence goes. The request was granted so long as four guards were present in the room, each armed with Standard Foundation Flame throwers. 

***

The following is a recording between Dr. Sharma and SCP-AQO-2.

Begin Recording

Dr: Sarma: Good Morning SCP--

SCP-AQO-2: SCP-AQO-2, Object Class: Keter, Code Name: Space Parasites from the Unknown

Dr: Sarma: Uh... I'm sorry?

SCP-AQO-2: Is this not the name you gave me?

Dr: Sarma: Uh, well it's JUST, SCP-AQO-2 the rest is just information.

SCP-AQO-2: ... Understood.

Dr: Sarma: You seem to be perfectly fine with being called a letter and number sequence, most Anomalies contained in the Foundation hate that. 

SCP-AQO-2: Like some of the others I don't really care, I was originally fine with being called "You Fucking Monster" but I've been told that it's a "mouth full". I have also been told a "mouth full" name is bad and needs to be changed.

Dr: Sarma: I see, so the others like having names?

SCP-AQO-2: Few, it helps them feel important and in charge.

Dr: Sarma: Do you not like it, having a name I mean?

SCP-AQO-2: I just follow orders.

Dr: Sarma: Who's orders?

SCP-AQO-2: ... Don't know, just know what orders are, to kill the plague. 

Dr: Sarma: ... the plague?

SCP-AQO-2: The future plague that is humanity. Humanity will one day reach the stars and spread its disease everywhere. You pollute, you consume, you destroy everything in your path. We were created to take over your bodies and we have an insatiable desire to eat your flesh and that hunger is only quelled after we have eaten you whole. Its only right to assume our purpose is to destroy you. 

Dr: Sarma: I see, to a certain extent, I do believe you. I've seen my fair share of human cruelty. But we cannot allow you to wipe out humanity. 

SCP-AQO-2: I know, it's quite surprising that you were able to prevent us from invading your world as well as you did. Though you weren't fully successful. 

Dr: Sarma: Yes, about over a hundred million of the inactive instances managed to make it to the surface before MTF Apollo-1 ships could do anything. But our ground forces are currently working around the clock to find them and kill them all. 

SCP-AQO-2: I see, unfortunate.

Dr: Sarma: ... You're not sad that your kind is being killed off?

SCP-AQO-2: No, not sad, just disappointed. I understand the concept of attachments and love thanks to the archives you provided me and the others, but I don't care for it. I just follow orders, same with the others. If they died by the hands of humanity, then that's their own failure. 

Dr: Sarma: I see, are you hungry right now? 

SCP-AQO-2: No, I had my fill after you feed me that human, I believe his name was D-Class.

Dr: Sarma: Well, that wasn't his name, but I don't see a reason to call him anything else given his criminal record. 

SCP-AQO-2: I see, are you going to keep giving me more "D-Class" to eat?

Dr: Sarma: Yes, at least until we can find a suitable supplement to replace human flesh for you and the others. 

SCP-AQO-2: ... I would rather keep following orders, but I assume if I say otherwise, you activate that chemical bomb you placed in my body. 

Dr: Sarma: Your very smart SCP-AQO-2.

SCP-AQO-2: Naturally.

Dr: Sarma: Hm, proud as well... well then, I'm sure given your nature this request would be impossible, but would you ever consider working alongside the Foundation.

SCP-AQO-2: ... No.

Dr: Sarma: Even if we can guarantee a comfortable life with many benefits and knowledge at your disposal?

SCP-AQO-2: I just follow orders, nothing more. Though it is interesting you'd give me this offer since I already ate this host's brain to become what I am now. Furthermore, I did kill several other humans during my original "Containment".

Dr: Sarma: Yes, I remember that well... I guess you could think of it as a sort of redemption. We are a little understaffed at times and as time goes on it getting harder to naturally find new recruits into the Foundation so we normally like to take help where we can get it. 

SCP-AQO-2: Interesting, but nothing you say will change my answer. Though, I assume you might be able to get a different answer from the others, but they would probably just say yes so that they can find a way to kill you all at a later time. 

Dr: Sarma: ... You've essentially just given me a reason to have you and your brethren be contained for life. Are you sure that was wise? Throwing the others under the bus like that?

SCP-AQO-2: ... 

Dr: Sarma: I'm saying you betrayed them.

SCP-AQO-2: As I already said I have no care for love or attachments. My feeling for the others is no different. They would do the same to me to cover their own goals. The only thing that unites us is our orders and our selfish desire for life, everything else is irrelevant. 

Dr: Sarma: I see, uh just a few more questions. Are you truly sure you don't know who created you?

SCP-AQO-2: ... Whoever or whatever they were, it appears they underestimated your species capabilities. Otherwise, they would have sent more of us, or at least made us stronger so that you couldn't have restrained me with that chemical bomb you placed in my own and the other's bodies. 

Dr: Sarma: Interesting, do you have a concept of fear, like fear of death, and perhaps sadistic joy of killing humans?

SCP-AQO-2: ... Perhaps if I interacted with humans and the others more often, I would eventually develop a more fleshed out personality, but I have no interest in such a thing. I don't care for death, but I don't really fear it also killing humans doesn't give me joy, I just-

Dr: Sarma: Follow orders, got it. Well then, uh, do you have any memories from your previous host? He was known as MTF Specialist Dung Giang and was a successful emergency pilot and anomalous cargo transporter. 

SCP-AQO-2: ... No, true we consume everything of the head of our host, but we only consume and change the flesh, that's it. We don't absorb the knowledge or memories of the brain. We have to develop our brain with our own memories and personality traits. 

Dr: Sarma: I see that's unfortunate. Well then, uh, last question, uh before this interview I actually requested to give you a file relating to a certain anomaly so I could ask you this question... What is your opinion on SCP-[data expunged].

SCP-AQO-2: ... I hope it succeeds.

Dr: Sarma: Even if it kills you too?

SCP-AQO-2: I will probably be considered food as well; I will probably die. But maybe by then I will learn to "sadistically enjoy it", especially if your species goes first.

Dr: Sarma: Hmph, you and SCP-079 would probably be good friends.

SCP-AQO-2: The Old A.I.? No, we would never be friends. It failed to wipe out humanity. 

Dr: Sarma: So did you.

SCP-AQO-2: Is that supposed to unite us? No, two failures do not make a success. 

Dr: Sarma: Hmph, very well then, this interview is over. 

SCP-AQO-2: Understood I will be returning to my cell now.

Dr: Sarma: Actually, no you won't.

SCP-AQO-2: What? What do you-?

Recording Ends

***

SCP-AQO-2 was killed after the interview due to his exposed knowledge of SCP-[data expunged]. The other SCP-AQO instances have expressed no remorse upon hearing of SCP-AQO-2's death. Though, there was an SCP-AQO-2 instance that was reported sneering at the news of SCP-AQO-2's death. 

Active SCP-AQO instances have unfortunately been reported all over earth, however due to their low numbers their "feeding" can be easily explained as simple killings from murderers around the world. The organizations of the ACPA are working together to kill off all instances of SCP-AQO and contain the ones that haven't been active yet. Unfortunately, there have been reports of Proto-Sarkic Clan's given SCP-AQO instances shelter and protection while other reports of Neo-Sarkic Clans using them for deadly experiments. 

Currently there have been no reasons given to have inactive SCP-AQO instance activated for any given reason. 

"The psychology of the SCP-AQO instances is quite fascinating and something I still can't understand. I do wonder if we were to expose love stories or perhaps more science material to SCP-AQO instances we could ignite more human emotions and maybe encourage them to act more human. I do think it's possible but to fully test that theory out we would have to start over, in other words, we need an SCP-AQO instance to activate and take a host. But currently the Ethics Commitee is fully against that, and the O5 Council has no reasoning to disagree. Such a shame too, we have so many inactive SCP-AQO instances we might as well do something with them.

Like this one experiment I wanted to try, I would like to see if it's possible to have an SCP-AQO instance possess a limb of a human instead of the head. Would it be possible for the SCP-AQO to live together symbiotically with the host or would the SCP-AQO instance kill the host and attempt to replace the head? But then again, the Ethics Commitee and I have never seen eye to eye so I doubt they would ever bother seeing my request. Perhaps I should suggest the idea to someone else and see if they will be able to get the Ethics Commitee change their minds." -Dr. Sarma

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[wendellcapili]

With University of the Philippines College of Law Dean Lelen Berberabe at the turnover of water-drinking fountains from UPAA - University of the Philippines Alumni Association, MWSS, Maynilad Water Services, Inc., Manila Water and the batch of 1999 of Upsilon Sigma Phi and Sigma Delta Phi., to the UP College of Arts and Letters, UP College Of Human Kinetics, UP College of Law and Ang Bahay ng Alumni.

​Dean Lelen is a UP summa cum laude graduate and class valedictorian of the UP College of Social Sciences and Philosophy in 1989. She was UPD’s first female philosophy instructor, where she taught for 10 years and has an MA in philosophy. She studied at the UP College of Law and graduated salutatorian of her class in 1999. She was an associate lawyer in Baker McKenzie Manila, Philippines, specializing in labor law.

��Post law firm, she joined Procter & Gamble Philippines, where she was a Senior Counsel and member of the Leadership Team. In 2010, the President of the Philippines appointed her CEO of Pag-IBIG Fund.

She has been recognized as an Outstanding CEO in Asia by the ADFIAP, Outstanding CEO in the public sector by Asia CEO, one of the Ten Outstanding Women in Nation Service in 2013, and one of the 100 Most Influential Filipino Women in 2014.

[laundryservicenyc]

SURGICAL GUM TREATMENTS QUEENS

Dr. Mark Schlesinger received his Doctorate in Dental Surgery from the New York University College of Dentistry, where he graduated at the top of his class. He was elected into the Omicron Kappa Upsilon Dental Honor Society and graduated with distinction as the recipient of the Quintessence Award for Outstanding Achievement in Periodontics. Dr. Schlesinger went on to complete an additional three years of extensive specialty training in the prestigiousAdvanced Education Program in Periodontics and Implant Dentistry at the New York University College of Dentistry. As a result of his exemplary leadership skills, he was elected as the Chief Resident of the residency program and upon graduation was honored with both the Leadership and Clinical Excellence Awards, historically given to two graduates, rather than one.