#find the derivative of √x

[lanatusnebula]

Can I request human children versions of the Guardians and Zero's just been trying (failing) to babysit them?

I strongly dislike that idea so here's Leviathan and Phantom as humans

[victory-cookies]

everyone going after brennan for forcing his players to do the questions for real but honestly I would love if my dm made me do fun little trivia. that’s so right up my alley. I would thrive I think

[rationaliity]

new lesson | aeon! dr. ratio x f. reader ( 18+ )

not a continuation post but more like a horny extra sideplot you're welcome you freaks /j in which our aeon ratio has come to learn that he, too, has human desires. he's perhaps a little too fond of his emanator, and perhaps his emanator is a little too pretty for him to be able to control himself. my aeon ratio plot here tags : face fucking, mind break, power play, mind control, consensual nonconsent that turns into to consent, painful sex, womb penetration, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, begging / whining / crying, use of the term 'girl', religious imagery sorta, ratio has a huge dick and it hurts, he also doesn't know the limits of the human body and pushes you way past yours, coercion almost, obsession, mention of stalking, yandere ratio, reader almost loses consciousness twice, struggling, afab anatomy, finger fucking, possessiveness, mean ratio calls you a failure once god x disciple word count : roughly 4000

the aeon of dissemination has taught you plenty while you were underneath his tutelage. so many whispers of the cosmos that others would fail to hear, so many secrets untold, shared only by those in the know. an all-powerful being with much more power than you could ever hope to know, yes, and yet.. during your private lessons together, you found yourself bearing witness to his more human side more often than not. your time together was much less a deity whispering incomprehensible knowledge to his devout pupil, and much more a civil conversation between humans. almost.

you were his emanator, which meant that you derived your power directly from him. this caused you to be able to reach heights previously unknown to you, but it also became your shackles. you were bound to his word, for his word was law. if he told you to bark, you would bark. you had no choice in the matter. if he told you to, by any chance, strip down and worship naked at his feet, well, you couldn't deny him that, either.

ratio had grown to enjoy his time with you. no, rather, he had grown fond of you. you learned quickly, you asked the right questions, you were beautiful, and kind. you were everything he wished for in a companion. even aeons get lonely too, surely you understood that. he found himself curious about you while you were away from him, often opting to lose his corporeal form and watch you from the shadows. he had always preferred doing things from the shadows, anyways, so this was nothing new.

you were beautiful. not just in your mind, but your body, too, something that ratio hated to admit. he had assumed, wrongly, that he had no attraction to human bodies, only human minds. but yours.. it stirred something in him, made him question himself. his motives, his.. desires.

and he desired you. he wanted that to be clear, and yet he bided his time, waiting patiently in the shadows of your home for the next time he would summon you before him, something coming up rather soon.

as you arrived within his domain - a huge, expansive, never ending library filled from top to bottom of books on everything in the universe. no matter how obscure, you could find the information you were seeking in front of you, from the tiniest of details of the most unknown planets to the biggest complexities of the cosmos.

" dr. ratio, it's good to see you again, " you called out, approaching his throne, sat in the center, surrounded by bookshelves covering every side by the front. there, ratio was sat, his legs crossed with an old book in his hand. " i pray you're doing well ? "

" i am, " he nodded, his demanding gaze flickering from the book to you, taking in your every single move. ratio snapped his book closed, his eyes never leaving yours, leaning forward in his throne. " i have been reading about human pleasure. it has been a subject previously untouched by me, but as you know, one must encapsulate all things to be able to full grasp the complexities of life. "

you stopped in your tracks, stunned. he had been reading about.. human pleasure ? you swallowed thickly, allowing yourself an awkward, small laugh, your hand coming up to the back of your head as you tried to figure out what to do with yourself under his gaze. " oh ! i.. see. it's surprising that you've just uncovered this now, considering your knowledge in human psychology. "

" would you say that those two things overlap ? " he asked, the book resting on his lap now, completely forgotten about now that he was in your presence, the human that had made the aeon of dissemination question himself.

" well.. they're definitely related, " you started, thinking about how to properly explain yourself before you said anything further, a quality that he admired. " human desires are just the culmination of inherently desirable qualities in a partner, right ? those who take a more submissive role often desire dominant partners in all aspects of their life, not just in the bedroom. of course, there are exceptions, but it could be used as a rule of thumb for understanding how humans interact with one another in a romantic and sexual sense. "

your explanation earned you the briefest of nods. " would you say that you yourself are in this broad generalization ? or are you an exception ? " he asked, his words low and gruff, like he was waiting on your answer to his question. " you, who dominates so much of your life. you teach the willing, guide them towards knowledge. not many would be above you in status, i presume. would you consider yourself in need of a partner who you can take control of, too, or would you rather.. be controlled ? "

you hesitated, something that he noticed. were you not willing to share such details with him ? was it because of his status, or simply because of your nature ? you were rather introverted, although not necessarily completely since you could command a room with just the tone of your voice. well, almost every room. this was one room that you had no control over.

you were confused, but mostly, you were curious. why did he want to know ? what was he gaining from learning such private and intimate details about yourself ? this was the first time that he had asked such revealing questions to you, although you weren't unaware of his recent curiosity with your life outside of the walls of this library. this was the first time he had actually shown any type of interest in you, and to be quite frank, it unnerved you a little bit. but if ratio asks a question, it gets answered. that much, you knew. " i.. find myself leaning towards the submissive role in bed. i prefer if my partner could.. command me, sometimes, and take control whenever possible. "

dr. ratio didn't say anything for a while, his eyes narrowing slightly, his legs uncrossing as he examined you from top to bottom, taking in your attire, and taking it off in his mind. he needed to know why he felt these desires towards you. he needed to know why you, specifically, out of everyone that he had interacted with within the cosmos, earned his gaze in a way that no others did. he didn't even know that he had these baser, more carnal instincts.

" now, who would be able to control you ? you, an emanator of the dissemination, a being with knowledge vast beyond most mortal comprehension, " his eyes sparkled with something as he beckoned you forward, signaling for you to get on your knees in front of him, something that he very rarely did. and yet you complied, and his interest in this situation only grew. " who could control you.. other than myself ? "

kneeling down in front of him, and looking up at his eyes, you sucked in a breath, your heart beginning to race in your chest as you thought about the implications of his words. were you truly interpreting his words correctly, or was this another one of his many wise warnings that he often bestowed upon you when you have strayed too far away from your chosen path ? and yet, you could see the smirk on his otherwise stoic face, and you knew that you weren't misunderstanding his words.

" strip for me, girl. " you felt that throbbing pain in your head that momentarily disorientated you, your hand rushing up to grab your forehead as you swayed slightly. you swore you could feel every single nerve in your body standing on end, a warning for what was to come. yet, this was not the feeling inside of you that you got when he was commanding you to do something that you had no choice in the matter of, you knew this for a fact because he had done that to you a few times while trying to guide you towards the correct path. you had no idea what this was, other than to perhaps remind you of his power over you.

nevertheless, even while bursting with embarrassment, you obliged, first taking off your purple blazer, undoing the buttons of your white dress shirt and slipping it off of your shoulders, before finally your skirt, something that made you more nervous than revealing your chest in front of him. you stood up onto your knees, bringing yourself in between his legs as you pulled your skirt and underwear down at the same time, letting the fabric pool beneath you at your knees.

" good girl, you're such a good girl, " he whispered, his hand reaching out, gently petting your head before combing through your hair, his gaze revealing nothing about his intentions, only the hunger inside of him. you'd only ever seen this look in his eyes whenever he was learning, and perhaps, in a way, he was learning something. " come closer. i trust you're experienced in this area, or should i teach you the basics ? "

you shuffled closer, your hands on your thighs as you didn't dare touch him. " i.. have a little experience, but not a lot. my apologies, i.. my lifestyle doesn't exactly allow me to often indulge in these kinds of.. activities with others. " you were just inches away from him, your face so close to his body, his crotch. you had so many questions. was this all just an elaborate test of sorts ? did he truly intend to teach you how to pleasure him ?

did he even have the anatomy for such a lewd idea ?

" it's okay, " he answered, as if hearing your thoughts, which he likely did. he was a being of immeasurable power, after all. and yet here he was, exerting his control over you and yet at the same time, losing his cool like a lovesick fool unable to keep himself together in the face of a beautiful person. " i'm rather fond of willing students, so don't worry. you'll learn, i am sure of that. you're a very capable being, after all. "

" this body is human in all capacities, " he continued, his hand still on the back of your head, subtly pulling you closer. " i originally believed it to be human in all ways except for the brain, but i believe i have been incorrect. it seems this form, no, i retain many of humanities baser, more carnal instincts. i would like you to service me. you may begin with removing this trousers from me. i will guide you, but i'll warn you, i won't be gentle. "

all you could muster was a small nod, your hands finding their way to his pants, shaking with nervousness, and also maybe just a twinge of excitement. here, you would have an aeon underneath your touch, begging for you. surely this was a pleasure that not many got to partake in. you could see it straining against the fabric of his pants, begging to be released, and you couldn't help but purse your lips together nervously, taken aback by its size.

finally working up the courage, you unzipped his trousers, pulling them from his hips down to his legs, letting the fabric fall beneath him onto your lap, leaving him in just his underwear, his cock pressed up against his leg, the bulge in his underwear now impossible to ignore. you looked up again at him for confirmation, to which he just nodded. " proceed. show me your worthiness to be at my side. take me into your mouth. if you don't think you can do it, i will guide you. "

you bit your bottom lip, your nervousness slowly turning into palpable excitement as you finally pulled his underwear off of him, freeing his cock from its confines once and for all. he was bigger than you'd expected, with precum messily coating his bulbous tip. he was huge, so much bigger than anything you've ever seen before, making all other sexual situation you'd been in before this one become meaningless in comparison. ratio's grip on the back of your head tightened, almost painful as he leaned you forward, giving you virtually no choice but to comply with his demands.

nervously, you kitten licked the head of his cock, one of your hands holding the base of it so you could bring it to your mouth. determination to prove yourself filled you, along with undeniable arousal, but you knew that there was simply no way to take all of him in your mouth without pitifully choking, and he must've been aware, too. you began to bob your head up and down his length, feeling an unfamiliar sting in the back of your throat every time the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.

you continued this for a moment, earning contented groans from his lips, until you found your throat constricting involuntarily at the intrusion. you gagged, pulling away from him completely as you coughed, feeling your stomach do backflips.

if you couldn't take it properly without struggling, he decided, then ratio would just have to force you to take his cock to show you how it's done, even if you gag around him. his expression darkened as he pulled your head towards him, forcing himself deep into your mouth. you gagged almost immediately, your hands grabbing at his thighs as he controlled your head, forcing you to take more of his cock.

" you can't handle my size ? you're pathetic. a failure, " his voice was filled with disappointment and anger, and you could do nothing but look up at him, tears forming in your eyes from his bruising pace as he fucked your face without mercy. you couldn't breathe properly, struggling against him weakly, your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs, not out of disobedience for him, but because when humans feel as though they're dying or they can't breathe, they often try to fight to get their airway back, struggling uselessly.

" i'll show you how to please me properly, " ratio's hand pulled and pushed your head with your hair, his hips thrusting his cock deeper into your throat. your gagging is ignored as you choke around him. " fuck. yes, that's it. take it. learn to swallow my cock. learn to love it, " he threw his head back, groaning underneath his breath. " you can be so good at this, i know you can. "

he wasn't stopping, especially not when he was finally starting to feel good because of you, the pleasure building up inside of him. tears began to streak down your reddening face, your eyebrows creased together as you struggled. ratio fucked your face relentlessly, thrusting inside of your mouth and using you like his own personal fucktoy. finally, the resistance in your throat gave way after a particularly harsh thrust, and he penetrated your throat, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn't breathe at all anymore. your eyes widened, your heart beating against your chest, the painful lesson beginning to take root.

despite the treatment, your slick was pooling between your thighs, creating a puddle of it beneath you. his rough treatment turned you on more than you'd ever thought possible.

ratio seemed to notice this, his tone holding a hint of amusement as he used your face, your nose pressed up against his pubic bone, his balls resting on your chin. " can't breathe ? perhaps you prefer i choke you completely like this ? you're enjoying it, craving it like a drug now. i must say, i find myself captivated by your abilities, too. "

you could feel your own helplessness, the power that he held over you surpassing even what you thought possible. you understood this lesson, although you could feel your head starting to fog up with the lack of air. you were trying desperately to find a way to breathe around his cock, but he was too deep in your throat, clogging up your airway. his guide on your head became painful as ratio invaded your body.

your eyes rolled back, your hands falling down to your side as you almost lost consciousness. finally, before you could truly lose yourself to the black abyss, he pulled your head up off of him, letting you gasp and choke, all of the spit that he was keeping in your mouth slipping down your lips, covering your chest and lap as you coughed up the air, blinking rapidly to familiarize yourself with being able to breathe again. your stomach was churning, and you damn near threw up everything that you had eaten for breakfast that morning. you felt weightless and incredibly heavy at the same time.

" you're a good girl. you learn quickly, " he smirked, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watched you catch your breath. finally, he stood up, his cock still throbbing painfully, ready to finally take what he'd wanted. " turn around, girl. "

that painful feeling in your head came back, causing you to wince in pain as he commanded you to turn around. finally agreeing, you turned around on your knees, looking away from him. his large hand pushed at your back, knocking you onto your hands, your ass up in the air for him to see. ratio had made himself comfortable with being in between your legs, his eyes admiring your naked form, seeing your pretty folds glistening with so much slick it was dripping down your thighs.

" such a pretty little thing. human bodies are beautiful beyond compare, even in the eyes to an aeon, but yours ? oh, yours is magnificent. truly, you are worthy of being by my side, " his voice was low as two of his fingers penetrated your wetness, testing your readiness for what was to come. he savored the feeling of your tightness around him, the way your muscles gripped his digits.

you gasped, letting out a whiny, pathetic little noise as you moaned, your back arching as his fingers hit that special spot inside of you, caressing it in such a way that had you drooling like a dumb mutt on your knees in seconds. his fingers moved rhythmically, his gaze on where they disappeared and reappeared from your body. the anticipation was building within him, and he found himself fucking you faster with his fingers, enjoying every tiny little mewl and whine of pleasure as it came from your bruised throat.

your cries of pleasure fueled him, the sight of you writhing, begging, and ultimately submitting to him was almost as satisfying as the power he held over you. " that's it. you're such a good girl. " without warning you, he pulled his fingers out from you, your body clenching around nothing as your moans quickly turned into gasps. " you're going to take me now, yeah ? submit to me, and i promise you a lesson that you'll never forget. "

your eyes widened, even though you knew ratio couldn't see it, and you felt your anxiety spike. " y-you can't..! i-it's too big, it'll break me, please ! " you begged, but your voice was falling on deaf ears as one of his hands gripped your hips, guiding his shaft to your entrance.

" your body is resilient, and i'm confident it'll accommodate me, " with a swift motion, he pushed into you, his cock stretching her wide. you cried out, your body tensing as he slowly withdrew and thrust again, just testing the waters of what you could and couldn't take. as his entire length disappeared inside of you, he couldn't stop his hips from snapping up, pounding his cock into you.

your scream of pleasure filled this vast library, a symphony of pain and pleasure. " a-ah, fuck..! your cock, i-its- it hu-hurts, 's too big.. " you sobbed, babbling on like an idiot, your words incomprehensible, your voice hiccupping in your throat. you were feeling like you were being split in half from him, like your body wasn't yours anymore. just like you suspected earlier, no other human man you'd had sex with previously compared to him, and you'd never quite be able to get fucked like this again if it weren't ratio.

ratio leaned down, his body pressed against yours, whispering in your ear, " you love this, yeah ? its painful, but it feels amazing. " his hips pumped faster, your cries echoing through the library with each thrust. your protests turned into pleas, your words lost in your ecstasy. " i want you to come for me. you'll cum again, and again, and again, until you belong to me entirely. you'll cum for me, and say my fucking name, " he promised.

you cried out, your sobs and moans mingling together as you struggled to figure out what you wanted to do, whether or not you wanted to pull him closer or force him away all at once. you were going to cum, and there was nothing you could do about it other than let him fuck you like he wanted to. pain and pleasure mingled together, but not so much as when he slammed into you with all of his body weight, the tightness of your body giving way as the head of his cock breached your womb. " v-veritas..! " you moaned out, and it all exploded within you, your pussy clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm, the pain of him breaching your womb and the pleasure of his fucking being far, far too much for you to take.

ratio grunted, feeling your walls squeeze around his cock as she came, milking him, too. the sensation was exquisite, his thrusts becoming frantic as he fucked himself into you as your arms gave out from underneath your, your face planting into the cold tile below. at this point, he was focused solely on his own gratification, pumping into you as your hips met his, your moans like a beautiful lullaby to his ears. " g-goddammit, " he swore, his balls drawing tight, his orgasm imminent at this point. he pulled your hips into his, his cock pulsing deep within you as his orgasm washed over him in waves, filling you completely with his seed, causing you to mewl out pitifully in response.

finally, he pulled out, his cum spilling out from your pretty pussy, dripping onto the floor beneath the two of you. he helped pick you up, cradling your body in his arms as the two of you rest at the foot of his throne together. you were nestled against his chest, your breathing coming out raggedly as you looked up at him, your eyes half closed and your body weak. ratio had breached you completely, filled you up in ways that you didn't even know possible. such was the ways of an aeon, you thought, unable to fight back against him even if you wanted to.

" you've taught me a lot about the human body, " ratio whispered, content just to hold you there, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. " no, the human body, and perhaps the human mind, too. my own mind. thank you for this lesson, dear emanator. "

perhaps being an emanator didn't always mean that you held all of the power. after all, there will always be a being with more power than you.

[nasa]

Navigating Deep Space by Starlight

On August 6, 1967, astrophysicist Jocelyn Bell Burnell noticed a blip in her radio telescope data. And then another. Eventually, Bell Burnell figured out that these blips, or pulses, were not from people or machines.

The blips were constant. There was something in space that was pulsing in a regular pattern, and Bell Burnell figured out that it was a pulsar: a rapidly spinning neutron star emitting beams of light. Neutron stars are superdense objects created when a massive star dies. Not only are they dense, but neutron stars can also spin really fast! Every star we observe spins, and due to a property called angular momentum, as a collapsing star gets smaller and denser, it spins faster. It’s like how ice skaters spin faster as they bring their arms closer to their bodies and make the space that they take up smaller.

The pulses of light coming from these whirling stars are like the beacons spinning at the tops of lighthouses that help sailors safely approach the shore. As the pulsar spins, beams of radio waves (and other types of light) are swept out into the universe with each turn. The light appears and disappears from our view each time the star rotates.

After decades of studying pulsars, astronomers wondered—could they serve as cosmic beacons to help future space explorers navigate the universe? To see if it could work, scientists needed to do some testing!

First, it was important to gather more data. NASA’s NICER, or Neutron star Interior Composition Explorer, is a telescope that was installed aboard the International Space Station in 2017. Its goal is to find out things about neutron stars like their sizes and densities, using an array of 56 special X-ray concentrators and sensitive detectors to capture and measure pulsars’ light.

But how can we use these X-ray pulses as navigational tools? Enter SEXTANT, or Station Explorer for X-ray Timing and Navigation Technology. If NICER was your phone, SEXTANT would be like an app on it.  

During the first few years of NICER’s observations, SEXTANT created an on-board navigation system using NICER’s pulsar data. It worked by measuring the consistent timing between each pulsar’s pulses to map a set of cosmic beacons.

When calculating position or location, extremely accurate timekeeping is essential. We usually rely on atomic clocks, which use the predictable fluctuations of atoms to tick away the seconds. These atomic clocks can be located on the ground or in space, like the ones on GPS satellites. However, our GPS system only works on or close to Earth, and onboard atomic clocks can be expensive and heavy. Using pulsar observations instead could give us free and reliable “clocks” for navigation. During its experiment, SEXTANT was able to successfully determine the space station’s orbital position!

We can calculate distances using the time taken for a signal to travel between two objects to determine a spacecraft’s approximate location relative to those objects. However, we would need to observe more pulsars to pinpoint a more exact location of a spacecraft. As SEXTANT gathered signals from multiple pulsars, it could more accurately derive its position in space.

So, imagine you are an astronaut on a lengthy journey to the outer solar system. You could use the technology developed by SEXTANT to help plot your course. Since pulsars are reliable and consistent in their spins, you wouldn’t need Wi-Fi or cell service to figure out where you were in relation to your destination. The pulsar-based navigation data could even help you figure out your ETA!

None of these missions or experiments would be possible without Jocelyn Bell Burnell’s keen eye for an odd spot in her radio data decades ago, which set the stage for the idea to use spinning neutron stars as a celestial GPS. Her contribution to the field of astrophysics laid the groundwork for research benefitting the people of the future, who yearn to sail amongst the stars.  

Keep up with the latest NICER news by following NASA Universe on X and Facebook and check out the mission’s website. For more on space navigation, follow @NASASCaN on X or visit NASA’s Space Communications and Navigation website.  

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[gfhunklescalendar]

The 2025/2026 Gravity Falls Hunkles Calendar (print version) is now available for pre-order on Etsy! 

Additionally, digital versions of the previous calendars (2022, 2019, and 2017) and the Wayfaring Strangers art book are also for sale during (and after) the pre-order period. The old digital calendars will be $5, and Wayfaring Strangers will be $10.

The 2025/2026 Gravity Falls Hunkles Calendar features art from 21 amazing artists and is priced at $30 USD. The calendars will be 12”x 12" and saddle-stitched with a hole for hanging. 

This is a limited print run of 350 calendars, so when they’ve sold out, I will not be printing any more! Pre-orders will be available for 2 weeks, and if I somehow sell 350 calendars in that time, There’s a chance I will print more copies.

2025's "Fully Clothed Old Men: Back in Style" is a slight derivation from our previous years. More of a silly pin-up-ish calendar, this year mainly features a young Stan in all his mullet-sporting glory, but there ARE 4 months where we've given young Ford a spotlight.

2026's "Fully Clothed Old Men: The Final Layer" features senior Grunkles enjoying some more mundane adventures, like baking, doing laundry, or just chilling in front of the TV.

Both calendars feature art and holidays based on Gravity Falls (and Gravity Falls adjacent things), standard US holidays, key religious holidays, and a select number of international holidays. 

I am funding the printing for the calendars with the pre-sale money, so please be patient with the shipping/delivery time. Calendars will ship sometime in July, and I’ll be sure to announce when I’ve received the order and have begun shipping them out.

You should find that the Etsy shop will automatically figure out shipping costs for you, once you put in your address. Please, please make sure you enter your complete address correctly!

PRE-ORDER IT RIGHT HERE!!

Payment methods available are PayPal and credit card.

This is a charity project, and all proceeds will go to A New Way of Life Reentry Project!

If you'd like to help us spread the word, please reblog this post!

Or share this post over on Twitter! Cover arts by @Stephreynaart & @toasttbutt

[theorphicangel]

a rare morning. miguel x reader

Stirring awake, your hands rub at your eyes, trying to adjust to the new day that lies ahead of you. The coldness of the room makes you shuffle your feet against his calves, attempting to derive some warmth from his body.

He’s still asleep, his chest rising and falling, light— no, heavy snores leaving his mouth. Miguel’s hands are loosely wrapped around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck. And with every exhale your skin tingles from his breath.

Selfishly, you desire to move. You want to stretch your limbs to escape from the past restraint of sleep. But you hesitate, desperately trying to think of a way to do so without disturbing your lover from his sleep. He’s been working till late recently and waking up at times that no human possibly should be waking up at.

But, this morning was a rare morning. A rare morning where he’s promised to stay in and spend some time with you.

And he can tell that you’ve been missing him lately. Your failed attempts to stay up and wait for him were obvious, he’d often find you asleep on the couch with a book opened on its spine adjacent.

Becoming restless with every second, you decide to get up for a glass of water. Now you knew that you would have to be stragtegic. One wrong move and you’ll wake up him up. You first problem was the hands that held your waist.

Carefully, you begin guide one hand off. His large hands severely contrasting your own. You freeze at the sound of a groan, then an inaudible murmur.

‘Is he awake?’ You think to yourself. Anxiously, you wait a few seconds until his breathing returns to normal and place his hand away from you.

Now you just had to remove the other one and you’d be ‘free’ to go, that is if you don’t wake him up. Your hand only seem to make it to his wrist before you’re stopped.

“Baby?”

shit.

Another groan leaves Miguel’s throat and simulatenously, his hand wraps around your waist again.

“M’just going for a glass of water.” You whisper.

“Stay.”

“M’ really thirsty, I’ll come back.”

He mumbles again and you can’t make out what he’s saying, his mouth slightly covered by his pillow.

“baby I can’t hear you.”

“I’ll go, you stay.” He mumbles.

“Mig’-“

“Just five more minutes.”

And with that, his hands are all over you again, caging you back with him. mission unaccomplished.

You settle back into his arms, accepting your fate. You guess you can wait a few more hours.

After a few minutes of silence, a muffled voice is heard by your shoulder.

“are you still thirsty, nena? Because I can go get you that glass—“

“no miggy, m’fine.” you smile. Perhaps if it was any other morning you’d still be restless but this?

You rarely got to experience this. his arms around you, his bare skin on yours, his naked soul entwined with your own. Upon meeting him for the first time you would have never thought that this is how you’d end up. Being one of the only people that he feels comfortable around. So much so, that he feels comfortable being vulnerable with you.

and you wouldn’t take it for granted. not anymore.

i love him your honor. :(

[goldenhypen]

⌏♡ ⎯ refusing their kisses !

synopsis. when you refuse enhypen’s kisses as a joke

pairing. bf!enhypen x reader ⋅ genre. fluff ⋅ wc. 1.3k (about 0.15k per member, with jake’s as the exception <//3)

a/n. heart rate legit shot up imagining jake’s ngl :’> ,, but maybe that’s just the jake simp in me sjdjd ,,, enjoy y’all :’>

이희승 …HEESEUNG !

you and heeseung were watching a show on the tv as it played in the background. with you two talking over the sound, he eventually turned his head to casually kiss you, but to his surprise, you leaned away from him, avoiding the kiss.

he furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously.

he leaned in again. and this time you stood up and started running away.

so of course, he had to chase you.

you two began dashing around the house, you doing your best to dodge his attempts at catching you. however, this didn’t last even fifteen seconds as he grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you into his warm embrace.

“that’s not funny,” he said ironically while laughing.

your back was pressed against his chest as he ducked down to meet the side of your head, squeezing you tightly as he spoke lowly into your ear, “you’re mine.”

goosebumps ran across your skin at his words, and you turned your head slightly to face his.

and with his arms still holding you from behind, before you knew it, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you deeply.

박종성 …JAY !

“okay, i’ll see you later, love you,” jay told you, leaning in for his goodbye kiss when suddenly you stepped back.

“what the-“ was his reaction, standing there narrowing his eyes with a small, growing smile.

but when you still didn’t move after a few seconds, his lips turned downwards into a frown.

“why’d you try to avoid my kiss?”

attempting to sputter out a response, you couldn’t find it in you to do it. you were too weak for him, and you gave in.

“it was a joke, i’m sorry,” you smiled, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around him.

not feeling the action being reciprocated, you pulled back and looked into his eyes, but they just stared at you blankly, unimpressed.

“i’m sorry, okay?!” you blurted out in defence. “i just wanted to see your reaction��it was really cute by the way.”

unable to keep up his act, he broke out into a smile, revealing his true feelings before hugging you back.

“very funny,” he said, shaking his head as he laughed. “so can i have my kiss now?”

your answer didn’t require words as you pulled him in by the collar, crashing your lips onto his.

심재윤 …JAKE !

jake was leaning in for a kiss when suddenly you shot your head away, looking at him and shaking your head no.

he furrowed his brows and gave you a ‘why are you being weird?’ look before shaking it off with a small smile.

“what are you doing?” he asked.

“nothing,” is all you gave in response.

so then he tried again, leaning in for your lips.

but you avoided him again.

“stop,” he frowned. “i’m trying to kiss you.”

but all you did was face your head in the other direction, stifling a laugh.

but from his point of view, at your lack of response and reciprocation, he scoffed under his breath before immediately taking your chin with one hand and whipping your head back to face him. and with his hold still on you, he dove in, quickly placing his lips on yours, and finally getting the kiss he longed for.

his lips were on yours for longer than you expected, the reason behind it probably deriving from his competitive nature and wanting to conquer his want of kissing you after you refused to do so for no reason.

but you couldn’t help but giggle against his lips at his dominant attitude.

if he was capable of the passion he poured into this kiss—which you never doubted him for in the first place—maybe refusing more kisses from him once in a while wouldn’t hurt.

박성훈 …SUNGHOON !

“here, kiss,” sunghoon said to you, puckering out his lips toward you, indicating what he wanted.

but to his astonishment, you had the audacity to take your fingers and turn his face away, rejecting his kiss.

his jaw dropped, and a smile started to form on his lips.

“are you serious?” he said, his eyebrows raising in disbelief.

you looked at him with as straight of a face as possible, but not after long, a hint of a smile was beginning to show.

he let out a laugh, shaking his head, pointing an accusing finger at you and your silly games. “okay, very funny.”

ending his comment, he leaned in for another attempt at a kiss from you.

but taking the opportunity, you refused once more by turning your head away.

“nope, you’re not doing that again,” he told you.

you looked back at him, and without even a moment to process, his lips were immediately on yours.

김선우 …SUNOO !

your boyfriend, sunoo, smiled at your words before leaning in for a kiss, and…

he was left with his lips unexpectedly meeting nothing as you turned your head away.

“hey, what was that for?” he asked you, slight annoyance growing in his voice.

in response, all you did was shake your head.

“what?” sunoo started again, unimpressed. “you don’t want kisses? please. but fine, whatever you say, i guess. no kisses for you then.”

he turned around and walked away, leaving you baffled at his reaction.

“hey!” you called after him. “it was just a joke.”

you frowned, and at your words, he turned around with a playful smirk before running back to you, cupping your cheeks with his palms, and pressing his lips deeply onto yours.

양정원 …JUNGWON !

with one of his hands resting on your lower back, jungwon pulled you in for a kiss. but before his lips could meet yours, you placed your hands on his chest, stopping him from doing so.

at your actions, he naturally gave you the cutest confused look you swear you could have ever seen. it melted your heart, and it took everything in you to stay strong and not break character.

“why are you doing that?” he pouted.

your heart was about to beat out of your chest at the look he was giving you. he was so precious.

you couldn’t do it anymore.

you frowned, taking his face in your hands and pulling him closer.

“no, it was just a joke, i’m sorry. here,” you said before pressing your lips to his, giving him the kiss he wanted.

a smile automatically rose to his lips before speaking, “that’s better.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

and with his last reply, he pulled you in for another.

西村 力 …NI-KI !

you and riki were sitting on the couch when he began leaning in for a kiss. and taking advantage of the opportunity to mess with him, you dodged it.

“what are you doing?” he laughed. “i want a kiss.”

you stared at him, doing your best to contain your smile, but you weren’t holding up too well.

he smirked at your behaviour and moved his face closer to yours, causing you to move back until your back met the cushions of the couch.

he kept going and placed both of his hands on either side of your head as he eventually towered over you.

though you probably could have found a way to escape, his actions had its effect on you, and your mind went cloudy, lost in the anticipation of what he could do next.

then, very slowly, he ducked down, capturing your lips with his and getting the kiss your hearts both ached for.

mission prank riki: failed, but you’d take that ‘L’ over a small joke any day when it meant sharing a moment with him like this.

a/n. kinda strongly disliking the way this was written tbh but i had a hard time scrapping it all :’> maybe lmk what you think of it tho?

[hom3landr]

That Unwanted Animal

18+

Homelander x Soulmate!reader

You don’t love Homelander. Even when he looks like everything you’ve ever wanted.

Loosely based on this post from @blindmagdalena

His t-shirt is soft under your hands as you cling to him. The baseball cap shields his features from you as presses you against the alley wall. The blue fabric rubs against your cheek as he thrusts up into you. The both of you avoid eye contact and as you bury your face into his shoulder, the scent of his cologne nearly chokes you. You thought it would be easier like this. You’d believed that maybe without the suit you could pretend your “lover” was a normal man. Maybe the two of you had met at a bar, or a doctor’s office, or while walking dogs in the park. You could have been an ordinary couple with a soulmate story fit for a Hallmark movie.

But a change of clothes can’t distract you from the fact that this man, your soulmate, is the very man you’ve dedicated your life to bringing down. It’s a sick joke, isn’t it? You love your team. Hughie is always there with a shoulder to cry on. M.M. gives good advice. Frenchie and Kimiko have become almost like siblings to you. Even Butcher you hold fondness for, as infuriated as he often makes you. They’re your family and yet you’re here fucking enemy #1 in a filthy alley and he’s going to make you come.

You bite his shoulder to keep from crying out as he effortlessly holds you up. It would be easier if he was bad in bed. The soulmate bond would still suck ass, but at least you wouldn’t derive pleasure from it. He came so fast the first time you fucked him that you’d initially been relieved. It had been perfect until he’d spread your legs to lap his own come from you until you’d shuddered helplessly against his tongue. You’d gone home and cried after, despite the pleasure still pulsing warmly through your veins.

You can’t even say it isn’t consensual. Your bond causes you to ache for him viscerally. Hell, this time you sought him out. He didn’t even protest when you laid out your terms. He had seemed more amused than anything. When he showed up wearing civilian clothing like you demanded, you almost turned him away with tears pricking at your eyes.

He looks soft, human, like someone you could love, a real soulmate. Even as he pumps into you, the peek of blond sticking out from beneath the cap makes you ridiculously endeared against your will. If only he was anyone else…

Soulmates have always been romanticized to a ridiculous degree, despite everyone knowing a story of some person who is enslaved by their mark instead of liberated. There are many things that can tie two souls together besides love. Yet everyone still longs for the day they find their match, in hopes of the happiest of endings. You had been no different.

You whine and clench around him as he angles himself differently, his cock sliding even deeper into you until it feels like you're choking on it. Your mark burns and the empty pit in your stomach that lingers in his absence is washed away with each heated pulse. The nausea of being away from him finally subsides with each brush of your skin against his. He sighs happily into your hair, as the same sense of belonging envelopes him. This feels right and it makes you want to scream.

“Mine,” he growls against your temple.

“Yours,” your bond answers for you.

You only ever fuck him in comfortless places.

Your heels dig into his ass and you rock yourself into his thrusts. He nips at your ear gently…affectionately. He can’t distinguish between true love and the oppressive obsession that comes with a mate. You don’t love him. Things would be easier if you did.

Why couldn’t he be anybody else?

“Is this good?” He asks needily. He can sense your distraction. He wants to be good for you. He wants to please you. You flutter around him and one hand strokes the back of his neck tenderly despite the mental torment that you’re facing. No one has ever been so attentive during sex before. He makes you feel cherished. Even when you beg for him to make it hurt, he refuses. The same hands that have commited endless cruelties hold you like something rare and precious.

You don’t answer and you can feel his petulant frown against your skin as he waits for feedback.

He adjusts you effortlessly in his grip so he can stroke you exactly the way he’s learned you like it. You whine desperately as you leak all over his fingers and drip onto the ground below. He sighs at the feeling.

“I love you so much.” He whispers intimately into your ear. His sincerity makes you want to weep. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

It doesn’t matter how many times you rebuke him or refuse his offer to take you home with him. He still believes that you feel the same. He believes that one day he’ll find you soaking wet at his penthouse door, having run across the city in the pouring rain to him, confessing how much it hurt to push him away. He wants the satisfaction of knowing that you abandoned your team from sheer want of him. He thinks of your situation as a romantic comedy that hasn’t hit the emotional climax yet.

It’s pathetic and delusional and you hate how close you know you are to fulfilling it. You don’t love him…but you know you could.

Despite how hard you try to resist, you come hard and you sob into his neck at the intensity of it. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he rubs you through it. You kiss him to shut him up and he groans into your mouth as he releases inside you. He kisses you back desperately, seeking whatever crumbs of affection you let yourself give him, using them as proof to fuel his delusional fantasies.

Once you’ve both ridden out your respective orgasms, he finally pulls back to look at you. The softness in his eyes belongs to a kinder man. Your stomach flips. His cap has been knocked slightly askew and he looks human. He frowns slightly and the hand he was using to bring you pleasure brushes something off your cheek.

“You’re crying.” He remarks, hand now cupping your cheek as his thumb strokes your skin in an attempt to comfort you. You want him to be rude to you the way he is to everyone else. You want him to mock you and make crass disrespectful remarks. You open your mouth to reply and a broken sob comes out. He hushes you softly and leans down to kiss the tears that roll down your cheeks

“I love you.” You confess finally, the truth is bitter and shameful in your mouth. You’ve finally stopped lying to yourself

“You say that every time. Are you actually going to follow through or are you going to deny yourself some more?” He asks dryly, cocking his head at you. His grip flexes as he continues to press you against the wall.

You both know the answer. Just like you both know that one day the answer will be different.

Your team better succeed before then.

[critrolestats]

New Blood, Old Regards

Thanks to @eyeofthenewt1 for this art piece!

Greetings! Although the Stats Team is still in a state of retirement, we’ve periodically updated several of our Campaign 3 Running Stats categories and galleries thanks to the efforts of a new team of data collectors. This team, consisting of Archivists Astral, Ethereal, Fey, and Shadow, have been preparing since the beginning of the year to launch their own site, and that day has come! With that, we’re pleased to present:

The Omen Archive

Although they have been providing CritRoleStats updates for our Campaign 3 records, their site will be its own thing with its own tools, toys, and focuses, such as graphics derived from their own databases of data. Please visit them at their website, reach out to them, and check them out on their various social media pages:

Website: https://www.omenarchive.com/

Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/omenarchive

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/omenarchive.bsky.social

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/omen_archive/

Tumblr: https://omenarchive.tumblr.com/ ( @omenarchive )

CritRoleStats will continue to update our databases and running stats pages with the data we receive from the Omen Archive until the end of the campaign, so that anyone from academics to casual fans have access to a complete catalogue of three campaigns worth of data. After that, our site will be completely (accessibly) archived, and our legacy will be carried on entirely by projects like the Omen Archive.

Thanks Are In Order

Outside of our final livecast, we realize we went out without the proper thanks to the community members who helped us grow. We’d like to take this opportunity to give credit where we feel it’s due.

We’d like to thank the team at Critical Role for their support over the years, with special thanks to Dani Carr for both her wonderful spirit, tenacious work ethic, and the marvelous send-off she gave us.

We’d like to thank the creators in the community. Thank you to the artist community for letting us feature your wonderful talent to give vibrancy to the numbers and words we’ve filled. Thank you to the information gathering community, from the wiki workers to the meta analysts, for giving your time to help make Critical Role more accessible. Thank you to the academics for finding value we didn’t know we had in our work. Thank you to everyone who creates in this community, whether your medium is music, words, stats, or art; whether you share for a large audience or for the joy of your private home or table; whether you encourage others with high presence, or quietly inspire and support from the shadows. Your creation makes the world a more interesting place.

We’d like to thank both our patrons and our Ko-Fi supporters for allowing us to carry on for as long as we have, and to make sure our work can continue to reach those who want to be informed and inspired. Thank you to our regular visitors, as well; traffic is supportive in several ways!

Thank you to those who have been with us, whether it’s the very beginning, sometime in the middle, or even if you’re tuning in just now. Your patronage and your expression of value in our work has been a blessing. (Thanks for the 1d4.) We’d also like to thank everyone who has continued to visit the site in spite of the lack of regular content creation on our part, and are grateful that so many of you are still finding use in the previous campaigns’ worth of data, as well as the current one.

We love you all very much. Now, back to retirement!

[itsokbbygrl]

Make Me Sweat.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+//MDNI!!!!

WC: 6.8k (whoops)

Summary: Javi can't sleep. You can't keep it in your pants recently. Both of you find yourselves dripping on this sunny Saturday morning.

A/N: This is filth. I mean, it's written by me, so it's soft filth, sweet filth, but like, FILTH nonetheless. ♡ Written for my sweet new friend, Kricket @sugarcoated-lame for the @swiftiscruff friendship exchange, and inspired by P looking fucking delectable post-workout in that giant navy t-shirt. Thanks, bby boy. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Tags: SMUT, PWP, reader understands basic spanish, author is requesting the reader to look up the minimal spanish used themselves if they can't figure it out with context clues, established relationship, f masturbation, sex toys, unprotected PIV, fingering, creampie, breeding kink, body hair mention, reader fits into Javi's oversized t-shirts, reader is able bodied and has female anatomy but otherwise pretty physically undescribed. i think that's it, lmk if i missed something egregious.

Javier woke with a start, heart racing, breaths coming quick and heavy. He closed his eyes and tried to slow, slow, slow it down. Concentrating on his breath, deep inhale, long exhale, again, again, until he felt the parasitic tendrils of his subconsciously derived nightmare recede. He sat up on his side of the bed and ran his palm down his face, the body-warm sheets pooling at the bend of his waist, the cool night air of the bedroom causing his skin to break out in gooseflesh. He peeked at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 5:43AM displayed in bright red light, the time taunting him. Too early to do much, too late to get much more sleep. Javi groaned to himself and decided to greet the day earlier than he anticipated. He leaned over to his side, dropping a soft kiss to the shoulder of his bed partner before lifting the sheets from his body and gently scooting out of bed to avoid waking her. 

Javi quietly moved around the room in darkness, grabbing a ratty old t-shirt and some athletic shorts out of a dresser drawer before moving to another to grab a pair of socks and clean underwear. He gently opened the door to the bedroom and padded down the hallway to the kitchen. He grabbed the pad of sticky notes and a pen from the junk drawer and left a note. Couldn’t sleep, went to the gym. Be back in a bit, amorcito. Te amo - Javi. He peeled the note from the pad and stuck it to the coffee maker, knowing that was the first place she always stopped in the mornings, sure to be seen, before grabbing his keys and wallet from the bowl on the countertop and heading to his car. 

“That’s it, mi amor, there you go. Just like that, cariño. Take it, take it, take it.” 

You writhed from your place below him, face buried in the sheets of your shared bed muffling your unabashed sounds of pleasure, hands gripping desperately at anything they could find. Javi’s hips smacked loudly against the flesh of your ass, his cock hitting you exactly how you needed as he pounded into you from behind. You felt your orgasm building, the coil of muscle in your lower belly tightening, cunt tightening and fluttering around him. 

“Can feel you, hermosa, she’s so tight, baby. You gonna come for me, hmm? C’mon, baby, come on it, need to feel you squeeze it like I know you can.”

You were right there, just a few more thrusts and you’d be tumbling over the edge. You tip your head to the side, wanting him to really hear it when you come for him. You let yourself be noisy, needy whines leaving your lips unbidden, tears springing to the corners of your eyes, the feeling of his thick cock so wholly overwhelming inside of you. You start to cry out in earnest as you feel your orgasm cresting, tears falling down your cheeks, pussy a tight, tight vice, gripping him so strongly you fear you may be torturing him just as much as he is you.  

“Javier! Javier! Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, please, please, ple–”

You wake with a start. Daylight is only just breaking over the horizon, the cool orange and blue glow of the morning shining through your bedroom window. Your brain begins to register where you are, when you are. You groan and reach over, feeling Javi’s side of the bed empty and cool to the touch. You remember your dream and sigh, wishing he was here to finish taking care of you. You look at your nightstand and see the time—just after 6:30AM. You sigh and wonder where he is this early. 

“Jav?” you call out. All that meets you is silence. You sigh and flop onto your back. You can try to get yourself off, but it’s never as good as when he’s there with you. You can be a proverbial teenage boy and take a cold shower to try to kill your arousal. You can try to push it from your mind and go make a pot of coffee and just start your day earlier than you’d planned. “Fuck it,” you say to yourself. You roll over to your nightstand and fish your trusty little vibrator from the drawer, turning to lie back and you shuck your wet panties. 

You scoot yourself back, propping yourself up a little, making the angle easier to reach as you turn on your toy and bring it down to your mound, teasing yourself a little, trying to ease your mind back into the place your dream had left off. You part your legs, spreading your folds ever so slightly, and you follow with your hand, touch featherlight, barely gliding the vibrator around the outside of your clit. You whimper and let your imagination wander. 

“There you are, cariño. Oh, she’s so wet, look at her drip. You’re getting our sheets so messy. That feel nice, baby?” you hear in his voice. You whine and nod to yourself, answering him. “Drag it lower, hermosa, hear how soaked you are?” You obey him, dragging the toy to your entrance, the vibrations meeting the sloppy mess there and causing an obscene splattering, crackling noise to reverberate through the room. You moan out loud at the sound, at how worked up you are. “Delicious, wish I was there to have a taste. Always so sweet when you wake up. Have one for me, baby, get it nice and wet and have a taste,” he instructs in your mind and you comply, dipping the toy inside and giving yourself a few shallow thrusts before pulling it out, viscous line of your slick still attached, snapping over your stomach and leaving drips of you behind as you bring the toy to your mouth and suck, cleaning it of the remaining stickiness and humming at the sweet sour taste of yourself. 

You bring your vibrator back down, placing it back down just next to your clit, not wanting to end things too soon. You let Javier’s voice filter back into your head. “Beautiful, baby. Look at you. Goddess in my bed, making herself feel so nice. Go, baby, put it on your clit like you want. Dámelo.” You use your other hand to pull the little hood back, fully exposing the button of your clit to the air for the first time this morning. The feeling sends zings of pleasure down your spine and you shiver, pussy clenching tight with desire. You move the toy to press directly on your button and you see stars behind your eyes, mouth dropping open, a whiny moan escaping your throat. 

“Mierda, cariño. Tan hermosa. Come on, baby, rub her nice and fast for me, want to see my girl come,” you hear him say. You click the button to increase the intensity of the vibrations from the toy and start massaging it in tight, firm circles on your clit, the pleasure almost unbearable. You release the little hood from your hold and use your free hand to push up your sleep shirt, pinching at your nipples. The added stimulation was exactly what you needed and you feel your orgasm crash into you like a tidal wave. You cry out in ecstasy, thighs closing of their own accord as your pussy convulses, waves and waves of creamy slick sliding out of you and down to the sheets below. When the vibrations become overstimulating, you press a long click to turn the toy off and toss it to the side. You lie there for a moment, catching your breath and coming back to reality after so thoroughly rocking your own world. You let out a little giggle, happy hormones flooding your system after such a good orgasm. You snuggle into the pillows for a moment, grabbing Javi’s from his side and inhaling the scent of him that lingers there. The smell of him makes you melancholic for a moment, wishing he had actually been here to experience your morning pleasure with you. You give his pillow a squeeze before putting it back on his side of the bed, throwing your legs over your side and forcing yourself to get up. 

You head to your ensuite bathroom first. You strip off your sleep shirt and give your naked body a once over in the mirror, turning to the side and admiring the curvature you find there, a thing you despised for years, but have learned to love through the adoring gaze of your partner. You quickly clean yourself up and brush your teeth before walking to your dresser and grabbing a fresh t-shirt and pair of lounge shorts, throwing them on your body. 

Once dressed, you make your way to the kitchen. Daylight has broken over the horizon, bright sun warming the space. You yawn and stretch your arms up high over your head. When you open your eyes, you spot a hot pink square attached to the coffee machine. Curious, you walk over to see what it is and make a pot to share with Javi, wherever he is. You grab the bag of grounds, box of filters, and the measuring spoon from the cabinet above, setting them on the counter, and pull the sticky note away, giving it a read. You release some tension you didn't realize you were holding onto now that you know where Javier is, but you frown knowing he was struggling with sleep, hoping it was just a one-off bout of insomnia and not a symptom of a greater issue. 

You dump the requisite amount of coffee grounds into a filter, placing them into the brewing compartment of the machine, filling the water compartment and setting the machine to brew. You grab your favorite mugs—yours a, “World’s Best Grandpa,” joke gift from your little brother, his a vintage speckled cup you found while thrifting that he says reminds him of the mug his dad always used when he was a kid—and set them on the counter next to the brewing pot. You rest your hip against the countertop as the coffee percolates and think about Javier’s note, remembering the last time he dealt with insomnia. 

It was early into your relationship. Javier had been home from Colombia for barely a year, still adjusting to the new speed of his life stateside, working the ranch with his papá. He had taken you on a date to the drive-in movie theater and fallen asleep within the first half hour. You’d noticed he had looked tired recently, but weren’t sure if it was your place to pry yet, so you let it be, figuring if it was important, he would tell you. You let him snooze for a few minutes before you gently shook him awake. 

“Javier? Javi? Hey,” you softly uttered, rousing him. 

“Hmm?” he sleepily replied, smacking his lips and tongue. 

“You fell asleep. Is everything ok? Should we reschedule?” You ask, trying to convey nothing but genuine concern with your kind eyes and touch. 

“I…what?” Javier starts, confused. “I fell asleep?” He’s visibly embarrassed, cheeks reddening and eyes widening. You can feel his heart rate pick up from where your hand rests on his chest. 

“You did. It’s ok, I’m not upset,” you console him. “Just want to make sure you’re ok. Is everything alright? I know this,” you gesture between you, “is still pretty new, but, Javi, I want to know things about you. If something is wrong, I want to know, want you to tell me, want to help if I can. I really,” you trail off momentarily, “I care about you, Jav, a lot.”

Javier sighs and lets his head release, falling towards his chest. He takes a couple deep breaths before he meets your eyes. “I haven’t been sleeping. It’s been, fuck,” he swipes his big palm over his face, “a few weeks now? Can’t get more than a few hours at a time. I’ve been, umm,” he considers his next words. You wait patiently, soothingly rubbing your thumb over his chest. “I’ve been having these dreams. Or memories. I…they feel the same, I don’t know how to describe it. And I can’t, fuck, their faces, I can’t stop seeing their faces, cariño.” You feel something wet drip onto the back of your hand and look up, watching as two more tears fall from Javier’s eyes. 

“Oh, Javier, come here, baby,” you coo, wiping his tears with your thumbs before winding your arms around his neck, pulling him bodily to you and holding him tight, allowing him to cry into your shoulder. The movie was all but forgotten that night as you turned down the radio and listened to Javier tell you everything he experienced in Colombia. He told you later on how he was terrified he’d scared you off after that night, but when you asked to see him again the next night, he knew you were something special, someone he didn’t want to lose. You come back to the present, hoping this isn’t his PTSD rearing its ugly head again, but prepared to help him through it, whatever he needs, you’re a team. 

You decide to get a head start on breakfast, pulling the carton of eggs, the leftover stir fry veggies from your dinner a couple nights ago, and the cartons of strawberries and blueberries out from the fridge. You bend over to grab your trusty cast iron pan from the lower cabinet and place it on the stovetop, setting the temperature and turning on the oven. You reach for the radio that lives in the kitchen and set it to one of yours and Javier’s favorite stations, swaying to the beat of the music as you crack eight of the eggs into a bowl, using a whisk to whip them into a fluffy scramble before adding the leftover veggies. You season the mixture, dumping it into the pan, and placing it in the oven to bake, setting a timer to check it and fluff the mixture before it fully sets. You turn back to the countertop and grab a cutting board, preparing the strawberries when you hear the garage door open, signaling Javier’s return. 

Javier was frustrated. He’d slept like shit, had only a mediocre workout, hit just about every red light on the way home, and then realized he’d left his ear buds on the treadmill after he parked his car back at home. He wished he could start the day over. He took a deep breath and tried to re-center himself before making his way inside, not wanting to drag you into his bad mood. 

Javi expected to find you still in bed, the time just past 7:00AM on your day off, but he was pleasantly surprised to find you awake and puttering around the kitchen. He knows you heard him enter the house, but took a minute to admire you from behind while you worked, radio crooning one of your favorite songs, your hips swaying to and fro as you cut fruit for your breakfast. He knew he’d been staring too long already, surprised you hadn’t called him out on it yet, so he moved from his spot in the doorway over to you, gently removing the knife from your hand and winding his strong arms around your waist. 

“Morning, hermosa,” he said into your messy bed hair, taking a moment to hold you and reset his day. He felt your body relax in his hold, your hands resting over his own, tilting your head to the side and exposing your neck to him. Javier knew to never look a gift horse in the mouth, tilting his head down, nosing along the tendon there, leaving a soft kiss on your pulse point before continuing their descent lower, down your neck and across your shoulder. You sigh and he smiles. 

“You stink,” is the first thing you say to him this morning and it makes him laugh, the two of you long past pulling your punches around each other. 

“Went to the gym, did you get my note?” Javier checks. 

“Mmhmm, thank you for leaving it. Made me feel better, knowing where you were.”

“Mm good,” Javi replies, giving you a squeeze before releasing you to continue fixing your breakfast. “What’cha got going there, baby?” 

He watched you pick up the knife and deftly get back to work. “Have a frittata in the oven, slicing up some strawberries, figured we could throw them in with the blueberries since they’re getting old and need to be finished. Made us some coffee, too. Your mug is out on the counter if you want a cup,” you turn your head and nod in the direction of the mugs. He walks by and kisses you on the cheek before grabbing his mug and the full coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. 

“Want me to make you one?” he asks, watching as you shake your head in response. 

“That’s ok, thank you though. I’ll fix my own in just a minute, want to finish this first,” and as you finish your sentence the timer beeps. Javi leans his hip on the counter, watching as you bend over, giving him a prime view of your juicy behind. Far too invested to care if he gets staring, he notices your cheeks are bare, loose legs of the shorts doing little to conceal what lies beneath as they ride up just enough while you’re bent over the oven, fluffing the eggy mixture of the frittata. He changes the angle, leaning further to the side and tilts his head to get a better view, fully perving on you now, and he catches a peek of what he’d hoped he’d find. Your sweet, soft, wholly bare pussy greets his eyes. Tan hermosa, Javi thinks, loving the way he can see wetness lingering on your lips. He whistles low and soft, causing you to turn to face him, shutting the oven door and resetting the kitchen timer. 

“What?” you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest, inadvertently drawing his eyes to your breasts beneath your shirt. 

“Just enjoying the view,” Javi replies, taking a slurp of his coffee, casting his eyes down to your now hidden pussy, before lifting them back to meet your gaze. He watches as your breath hitches ever so slightly in your chest, eyes growing wider. He knows you know you’ve been caught, thinks it’s sweet that you still find it a little scandalous being caught bare around him after how long you’ve been together, everything you’ve been through together. He glances at the timer, 10 minutes remain, he can work with that. 

He sets his mug down and moves forward, caging you between his broad chest and the countertop. He’ll never get over the way you look at him, how much want he finds in your eyes. He still can’t believe he gets to call you his, permanently, that you’d wanted to keep him forever just as much as he wanted to keep you. Javier brings a hand up to cup your face, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone and feels you nuzzle into his palm. “You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you, cariño? ¿Dónde están tus bragas, hmm?”

He feels you smile against his palm. When you speak, you’re looking directly into his eyes. “Had to take them off, they were all wet.” He anticipated your dirty mouth, but didn’t expect you to say that. He shakes himself out of the stupor. 

“Oh?” he starts, softly dragging his hand along your jaw, briefly pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb before they continue their journey down, down, down, over your neck, between your clothed breasts and lower, over your stomach, the muscles jumping at his touch. “Why’s that, baby? Something happen while I was gone?” he asks, touch feathering where he knows you're desperate for him before taking mercy and cupping his wide palm over your heated sex. 

“Might’ve,” you sigh, teasing him right back. He loves this about you, you always give just as good as you get, keeping him on his toes. 

“Yeah, cariño? What happened? Tell me, baby,” he requests, pushing the heel of his hand up, giving you more of the pressure you’re craving. He feels you tuck your face into his neck, grinding down into his touch, your arms winding around his neck to keep him close, as if he would ever pull away from this, from you. 

“I had a sexy dream,” you start. “I, mmm, I—you were railing me, Javier, so fucking good,” you take a second to rub into him, breath hot and damp against his neck. He’s going to get light headed with how fast the blood is rushing to his cock. “You had me face down, ass up. You were, ahhhh, so fucking deep, stretching me so good, had me screaming for you, and I, fuck, I woke up right before I came,” you finish, fully whining now, grinding with his hand in a slow, syrupy rhythm. 

“Ángel, mierda,” Javi says. “Need me, baby? Need me to touch that sweet, neglected little cunt?”

“Not that neglected,” he hears you mumble into his neck. 

Javi drops his voice to that deep timbre he knows works you up like nothing else. “That so? ‘M I gonna be spoiling her? Giving her this much attention? Sounds like you took care of her already, hmm?” 

He feels you shake your head and hum a “uh uh,” sound. You peel your face away from his neck and tilt your head back, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Made her come once, but she needs you, too. Please, Javier, amor, te necesito.” And how can he ever deny you when you ask so nicely?

“Jump up,” he requests, grabbing you by the waist to help guide you as you hop up to sit on the counter. He reaches to the hem of your t-shirt, dragging it up your torso. “Lift,” he instructs, and you comply easily, raising your arms overhead as he finishes pulling the garment up and off you, tossing it to the side, using both hands to gently knead at your breasts. You smile and sigh at the feeling and he hums in approval, wanting nothing more than to please you. 

Javier grabs your hands, cock twitching in his shorts at the sheer size difference between you, and brings them to pick up where his own left off. “Touch, feel yourself, cariño, there you go,” he encourages, watching as you squeeze and pinch and flick at your own nipples, little quakes traveling through your body at the feeling. He slides his palms beneath your shorts, pushing them down, caressing his hands over the swell of your ass as he goes. You lift yourself up helpfully as he tugs the garment down and off your legs. You’re a vision from his place at your feet, gorgeous tits in your hands, your cheeks heated, breathing heavily, eyelids fighting to remain open. He watches you shiver and he gets an idea. 

He reaches behind his neck and tugs his own sweaty t-shirt away from his body. He flips it around and bunches it up in his hands. “Arms up, hermosa,” he commands. You release your breasts from your grip and look at him, eyes glazed over in pleasure. You give him a slightly confused look, but comply, once again raising your arms above your head. Javier carefully guides your arms through the holes before pulling the shirt down over your head. 

“Winnie the Poohing it in the kitchen on a Saturday morning. Casual,” you joke, giggling, and it lights his heart on fucking fire. So sexy, so smart, so silly, all rolled into one perfect package for him. He sends a thanks to the heavens, assuming his mamá pulled some strings up there to bring you to him, unable to explain it any other way. He chuckles with you, easing the tension slightly, cooling you both off a little before things get too hot too fast. 

“Always so fucking sexy in my clothes,” he remarks, unable to help himself. 

“Trying to get me in the shower with you, amor? Could’ve just asked,” you retort cheekily, gently tugging the sweaty t-shirt away from your body. 

Javier hums. “No, mi ángel, s’not that…know I’m about to be covered in you—my fingers, my mouth, my cock are going to reek of your sweet pussy, might never be able to get the smell out.” To drive his point home he reaches his hand down to where you’re absolutely weeping for him and drags two of his thick fingers through the wet mess he finds there, coating them thoroughly in your juices before bringing them up to his nose and taking a deep inhale, groaning at the scent of you, before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking and savoring the taste of you. “Wanted you to reek of me, too. Fair is fair.”

Your smaller hands dart out from where they had been holding his shirt, grabbing his face and hauling his mouth to yours. The kiss is feverish, desperate, teeth knocking, tongues aggressively searching each other’s mouth. Javier brings his fingers back to your cunt, gathering your wetness and coating them thoroughly before teasing one at your entrance. The feeling makes you gasp, pulling back from the kiss enough to nod, before he sinks his finger inside you. The tight warmth he finds within your body is incomparable. You both look down to where his finger slides in and out of you, watching the obscenity of it, the beauty of your creamy slick coating the single digit. He gives you a few pumps before adding a second finger. He can feel the stretch of your walls, working to accommodate him so graciously. 

“Good girl, baby. There you go, just relax and let yourself feel it. S’nice, so fucking wet, cariño, look how creamy you are today.” He hears you groan at that, your breathing picking up as he explores you from within, curling his fingers to rub against the soft spongy spot he knows makes you see stars.

“Think I’m, shit, think I’m ovulating. Or close, or something. I’ve been so needy, can’t get enough of you. Need you in me, on me, around me all the time,” he hears you say and it almost knocks the wind out of him. You’re not done yet though and you continue, “Honestly, I’m not even mad about the shirt, think the fucking stink of you is making me drip. Pheromones or some shit. Had to shove my face in your pillow this morning after I came,” you finish. 

Javi uses his free hand to push his shorts down, finally freeing his hard cock to the warm air of the kitchen. He’s leaking, tip shiny with pearlescent wetness. He uses his free hand to swipe it from his head onto his fingertips, and brings them up to your mouth. “Open for me, hermosa. Taste me, take me inside you like this first, baby.” You’re looking at him like he hung the moon just for you, and maybe he did. He would. He’d do anything for you. You open your mouth for him, so soft and sweet and plush, and he feeds you his own slick at the same time that he removes his soaked fingers from you and brings them to his mouth, getting another taste of you, feeding each other in the most primal way. 

Javier grabs his thick cock in hand and gives himself a few strong pumps to take the edge off, loving having your eyes on him like this. He steps back towards you and grabs your right leg first, bending it at the knee, opening your hip wide, and placing the heel on the countertop, messy pussy on full display for him in this position. He swipes his cock through your wet folds, coating himself in your slick again and again. He rubs his head against your clit over and over and over, nerve endings alight, zipping pleasure through both of your centers. 

“Javi, baby, fuck, please, please, I need you inside me, please put it inside me,” you beg. And who is he to deny you when you ask like that, his earth angel. He notches his cock at your entrance and starts pressing forward, the wide head of him popping through the tight opening of your sex, both of you moaning aloud at the feeling. He’s overcome with the feeling of being inside you like this. You’re so wet and tight and hot—the temperature of you something he can never replicate on his own. 

He presses forward firmly, but gently, knowing he’ll always be a stretch for you to take. “Doing so good, hermosa, keep breathing for me. There you go, let me in, baby,” he praises, having learned his words do wonders to help you focus on the moment and keep your muscles relaxed. He uses his thumb to rub soft circles into your clit, watches as you shiver at his touch, feels you soften further, sweet pussy dripping more slick around him to help him slide forward. Before he presses all the way inside, Javier draws his hips back, cock sluicing out, and presses back in. He repeats his slow, shallow thrusts a few more times, obsessed with how your cunt is coating him in thick creamy wetness, the squishing sound it makes with every movement intoxicating. 

He looks at your face as he presses in deeper, extending each of his next thrusts until he’s fully sheathed. Your eyes are closed, mouth agape, lips bitten and kiss swollen, your eyebrows raised in pleasure. You’re breathing heavily, chest rising and falling visibly as you let out the most beautiful noises he’s ever heard. You’re unreal, a goddess divine, and he will gladly worship at your altar until the day he dies. 

“Baby, ángel, mi amorcito, eres toda mi vida, me tienes para siempre,” he lets the words fall from his lips prayerfully, immediately making good on his promise. 

“Javier, javier, fuck me, amor, fuck me harder,” you gasp out to him and who is he to defy the will of the divine? 

“Hold onto me, amorcito, gonna give you what you need.” Javi feels your hands slide around his sides under his arms as he continues to thrust in hard and slow, wrapping your arms around his back and holding onto his shoulders before wrapping your legs around his hips, locking your ankles in the dip of his lower back. “There you go, baby, so perfect for me. Stop me if it’s too much, ok?” He lifts your chin with his finger, meeting your eyes to make sure you’re both on the same page. You look wrecked and he’s sure he’s no better off. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss far less debauched than the last. 

You break away and rest your forehead against his, the gesture releasing a thousand butterflies within him. “Ok, I will, I promise,” you reply sweetly, and Javier lets himself go. He immediately pulls almost completely out of your wet clutch before throwing his hips forward, hard. It punches the air out of your lungs on a scream, so he does it again, and again, speeding up with each thrust until you’re nothing more than an animated moan. Your fingers are clutching at his shoulders, half moon divots of your nails leaving him branded with your pleasure. 

Javi knows you’re doing well, that you feel good, but he hasn’t made you make that sound yet, the one he knows so well, the one that makes your eyes roll back and body go limp. He changes the angle, bending his knees and tucking his hips under to get leverage towards the front wall of your soaking cunt. 

“JAVI, there, there, there, oh fuck, please, baby, don’t stop, please,” you cry out, your pussy squeezing him so hard he fears he may come right then. You start to whimper, breath hitching over and over and he knows what comes next. You can’t help yourself when it gets like this, he knows, so it doesn’t scare him anymore when he sees you start crying, tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows it’s a way for your body to release, ease the tension that’s been building within you. He moves the hand bracing himself against the cabinets to your cheek, wiping away the tears as they flow, giving you the comfort he knows you need when this happens. 

“So beautiful, amorcito, so sweet for me, soft little pussy doing such a good job, baby. She’s holding me so tight, so nicely,” he babbles, listening to the way your pussy absolutely squelches for him. He wonders if you’re right, if you’re ovulating right now. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. The most primal part of his brain ignites, making it hard for him to think about anything other than pumping you full of his spend, his seed, letting it take. You’ve talked about it, you’re both open to the possibility and decided to let nature run its course. If it happens, neither of you will be upset about it, and now, he wants it to happen, wants to be the cause, strut around with his chest puffed out, showing the world that you’re his, his goddess incarnate creating life through nothing but your love and pleasure. 

He’s brought back to the present when he feels you rocket through your orgasm. Cunt squeezing him so tightly he thinks you might push him out. He hears you scream his name as he continues to drive hard into your favorite spot, fluttering walls of your pussy massaging him from the inside. “Javi, javi, oh shit, fuck, I’m–Javi, I’m gonna—” he hears you get out before he feels a splash against his lower belly and he looks down just in time to see you squirt all over him and the kitchen floor. 

“Cariño, mierda, gorgeous, so fucking amazing, look at you coming for me. You’re unreal, mi diosa, mi cielito,” Javier praises as he slows his thrusts, knowing you need it softer after such an intense experience. He strokes his hand over your hair soothingly, petting you gently before bringing his hand to your cheek, tipping your head to look at him and he smiles when he meets your eyes. “There you are, baby. Did so good. You ok if I keep going? I’m close, promise, I’ll be careful with you.”

You smile back at him and his heart clenches in his chest. Your smaller hand comes up to cup his cheek, mirroring him, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone as he did for you. “Go, baby. Want you to come for me. Want you to come inside me,” you encourage him. Not for the first time this morning, Javier feels time stand still. 

“But you said,” he starts. 

“I know, I know what I said. Do it. Come inside me, Javi. Dump it deep, make it stick.”

Your words rattle around in his brain on loop, it’s all he can think about as he picks up the pace again. He tucks his arms underneath your knees, lifting them up and pressing them back towards your shoulders, opening your sweet center to him fully. He looks down, watching his big cock disappear and reappear over and over again, shiny wet and covered in your come, the thatch of hair at his base coated in your thick white creaminess. He’s going to do what you asked. He’s going to come so deep inside you that it can’t help but take. He’ll give you whatever you want, would give you his own life if you asked. 

You must feel him tensing, knowing he’s close, because he feels you sweetly push his sweaty hair back and lean forward, leaving a soft kiss to his damp forehead before giving the wet beads there a little kitten lick, giggling cutely as you taste the saltiness and curling your tongue back into your mouth. Content little menace, teasing like you didn’t just get fucked within an inch of your life, he thinks. It works for him though, spurs him on as he thinks about more of you, little yous, in the world. He groans and feels his balls pulling up, knows he’s right there. 

“Come, Javi, please. Want it, fill me, baby. Come on,” you chant, moving your arms down to grip his ass, pulling him into you. He moans loudly, giving you one, two, three more strong pumps before he releases. He convulses with the force of it, spurt after spurt of thick come coating you from the inside. You hold him tight, stroking your hands gently up and down his back soothingly. He feels cherished here in your arms and he can’t imagine being anywhere else right now. 

BRRRRRRRRRING, BRRRRRRRRRING, BRRRRRRRRING, BRRRRRRRRING

You laugh and Javier feels it from inside you. “Eggs are finished cooking,” you say nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, hopefully,” Javi says under his breath. He grunts softly as he pulls himself from the warmth of your body. He notices you move to get down and get the eggs and he stops you immediately. “No, you stay right there. And keep your hips up, need all the help we can get,” he says as he nods towards the devastating mess of your pussy. 

His words send a shiver through you and you whimper quietly, staying in your position as he requested, reaching a hand down to cup your mound and hold in as much of his come as you can. The sight makes him feel feral and he growls. He leans over and kisses your forehead, lingering for a moment before he pulls away to get the breakfast you so kindly prepared for the two of you out of the oven. 

“Mmm, smells delicious, cariño. Thank you for cooking for us,” Javier praises. 

“It was nothing, really. Easy recipe. It’ll be a good one to use with kids actually, can use it to trick ‘em into eating their veggies, too. Just load it up with cheese,” you chuckle in reply. Javier looks at you with stars in his eyes, the way you’re already making considerations for an expanding family. He can’t help the way he pulls you in, kissing you with everything he’s feeling, how thankful he is for your presence in his life, how deeply in love he is with you, how excited he is for your future together. You give it to him right back and he knows. 

“Thank you,” he reiterates, leaning his forehead against your own. 

“Of course, Javier. Can’t imagine doing it for anyone else, with anyone else. Now can you please run to the bedroom and grab me a pair of panties from the drawer? I’d like to be able to use this hand at some point today,” you laugh and he laughs in return. 

“I’ve got you, hermosa. Un momento.” Javier scampers to your bedroom, grabbing your favorite pair of comfort panties before making his way back to the kitchen. He holds them up and you smile at him in a way that lets him know he made the right choice. He helps slide them up your legs and over your behind, using his fingers to flatten the waistband around your hips. “Here, let me grab your t-shirt,” Javi says, moving to grab your discarded clothes from the floor. 

“No, Jav, it’s ok. Want to wear this one,” you reply, nuzzling your face into the shoulder of his dirty, old t-shirt. He swears his cock gives a feeble twitch at the sight. 

“Ok, baby, that’s fine. You can keep that one,” he confirms and holds out a hand to help you hop off the counter. 

“Good,” you reply, hands dusting off your thighs, the shirt fitting you in your favorite way, as you’ve told him, just covering your panties. “It makes me feel sexy, I can’t really describe why, but I do. You’re just so fucking broad, baby, your shirts hang off me, it’s hot as fuck,” you’d told him once and he never forgot it. 

“We’ll have to get you some more, make sure you have plenty of options,” Javier started. “Need you to be comfy while you cook,” he finished, reaching a hand out to casually graze against your lower stomach. He looks up to find your jaw dropped open, eyes getting that faraway, glazed over look, and he knows what’s coming next. “Baby, your breakfast,” he reasons. 

“Fuck breakfast, we have a microwave. Can you go again?” you ask, reaching out to palm at his semi-soft cock. 

The feeling of your hand against his sensitive skin makes him shiver. “For you, cariño? Always.”

Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment or reblog to support fandom authors!

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Masterlist

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Author note: This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but I was just so inspired and wanted to post it somewhere after writing like +67K words (and counting). So here goes nothing I guess?

Warnings: Minors DNI! 18+! May contain disturbing, gruesome, and graphic sexual scenes. Graphic violence. Blood. Obsession. Mentions of abuse. Mentions of substance abuse. Trigger warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter. 

“Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” 

- Mahatma Gandhi

-> Chapter One - The Commercial

-> Chapter Two - Breakfast

-> Chapter Three - Care for a Drink? Spice 🔥

-> Chapter Four - The Meeting

-> Chapter Five - Night's Mistress Smut 💦

-> Chapter Six - A Stroll Spice 🔥

-> Chapter Seven - Forget Me Knot Smut 💦

-> Chapter Eight - The Headliner Spice🔥

-> Chapter Nine - A Black Suit Spice🔥

-> Chapter Ten - Cute Smut 💦

-> Chapter Eleven - Lucifer's Visit

-> Chapter Twelve - The Kidnapping

-> Chapter Thirteen - The Truth

-> Chapter Fourteen - Picking a Fight Smut 💦

—> A message to the readers

-> Chapter Fifteen - Heaven's Worst Kept Secret Smut 💦

-> Chapter Sixteen - Let’s Kill God Smut 💦

-> Chapter Seventeen - The Countdown Cuteness ❤️

Alternative Endings:

Alternative Ending 1: Mini-Chapter Eighteen - My Fawn and My Shadow

Alternative Ending 2: Mini-Chapter Eighteen - Paris

In Production:

-> Chapter Nineteen (one per ending)

-> Epilogue (one per ending)

[flowerandblood]

Incomprehension (Oneshot)

[ Michael • Gavey x math student • female ]

[ warnings: stalking, angst with comfort, depression ]

[ description: Michael Gavey seems to her to be an alien from another planet, and observing him becomes her daily routine. She decides to cheer him up by secretly putting his favorite Crunchie in his backpack, but one day she is caught red-handed. Requests regarding the character stalking Michael and her comforting him after the situation with Oliver at the bar. ]

I thought I'd post this between chapters of The Fall from the Heavens because I really like it even though there is no smut in the story! This will not affect the order in which new chapters will be published.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She had no idea how it really started. She had watched him for a long time, knowing only that he was the best. Even though he was a student in the same year as her, equations that took her an hour to solve, he solved in a few minutes.

He worked like a machine: when he stood in front of the big board his face was stony. Unlike her, he wasn't frightened or stressed knowing that the whole room of students was watching him – on the contrary, seeing his lips clamped into a tight line, the wrinkles of concentration on his forehead and his wide-open blue eyes, she had the feeling that he derived satisfaction from it.

He wanted his genius to be admired.

They never exchanged a word with each other – even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't have known how to begin, and seeing his outbursts and behaviour that seemed bizarre to others, to say the least, she wasn't sure it would be worth taking the risk and stepping out of the shadows.

Something about him not knowing she was watching him filled her with peace and contentment.

Her year-mate had lamented to her as they sat in the library that one of the handsome, rich boys from a good house had not responded to her greeting as she passed him in the corridor. She nodded in understanding, looking thoughtfully towards the other table.

She didn't understand why he stayed close to Oliver.

This boy seemed too frisky to her, stretched out, wanting too many things at once. He wanted to be humble and feisty at the same time, lonely and surrounded by a group of friends, appreciated and unappreciated, for someone to comfort him.

He wanted to be noticed while remaining in a state of his own uniqueness.

Unlike him, Michael was authentic.

She showed up in the places he walked because he appeared in them like clockwork. His routine became her routine, allowing her to be a passive observer of his life instead of participating in her own.

She didn't want to return her thoughts again to her body and the emptiness she felt as she lay alone at night, thinking that she hated math.

However, it was the only thing she could do well.

The logic of formulas, the certainty of the fundamental, immutable laws that ruled the solving of equations gave her a sense of security.

Words were a strange and unnatural construct to her, and while her mind was full of thoughts, they did not usually find an outlet beyond the basic phrases that allowed her to turn in the company of others.

It wasn't her nature, but her choice: it seemed to her that every time she tried to explain the state of what was happening inside her, no one could comprehend her, giving her cloying advice she hadn't asked for at all.

She wanted to hear that she didn't need to change, instead however, everyone kept telling her that she should smile more, which she did reluctantly.

Why should she smile if she wasn't happy?

Michael was her opposite, and watching him was like observing a rare animal in the zoo: he was loud and unpredictable, his remarks often lacking tact and sometimes even sense, his chin raised in the confidence that emanated from him.

He was a mean bastard and she knew it, but she couldn't hate him.

To her despair, he seemed to evoke entirely different feelings in her.

His behaviour did not repel her: on the contrary, his explosive, quirky nature aroused a kind of admiration in her, as if he were an alien from another planet, someone who did not really exist.

She watched from the sidelines as Oliver slowly began to make his choice, more and more and more allowing Felix and the rest to absorb him like a large, voracious monsters.

She wasn't sure if the look of disappointment on Michael's face when he waved at him from afar and he didn't respond was a result of his sadness or his anger at having wasted his precious time.

It seemed to her that after he started eating and sitting alone again he quietened down and fell silent, disappearing before her eyes.

One day she got the idea of cheering him up and whenever she had the chance, she would slip a small Crunchie bar into his backpack, usually when he was busy talking to someone or when he put it down on the floor and left it in the corridor while going to the toilet.

She would then sit down next to it and, watching to make sure no one saw, slip the bar into the side pocket of his backpack and return to her seat.

Only twice had she seen his reaction to finding her gift tucked in one of his pockets. He would then look around, and she would lower her gaze, pretending that she was engrossed in a textbook on quantum physics.

She would smile involuntarily when she heard the rustling of the paper after a while, and then look at his thoughtful face, his gaze directed somewhere far away as he bit into the bar as if he were eating a burger.

He was so uncouth, so bright, so unpredictable.

However, her lack of vigilance doomed her: she wanted to do what she always did when she saw that he had thrown his backpack on the ground and headed for one of the rooms, apparently to talk to their professor. As soon as she sat down next to his bag, he came out and looked at her.

She froze, feeling her heart start pounding like crazy, cold sweat running down her back.

She picked herself up and moved to flee, unable to face the shame that spread throughout her body.

"– hey – wait – fuck –" He cursed, wanting to follow her, but remembered his backpack, so retreated to pick it up.

She stepped out into the courtyard, not hearing or seeing anything, blinded by the sun, stunned by the noise in her head and the shrill conviction that some kind of veil had fallen between them.

"– are you deaf? –" She heard him behind her, his large hand grabbing her arm too aggressively and too firmly, turning her away with a sharp, impatient jerk. She stopped, looking with big eyes at his blue checked shirt.

"– do you like rummaging through other people's things? –" He sneered, frustrated and amused at the same time. She simply remained silent, staring dully at the fabric of his shirt, smelling some cheap aftershave and his own scent.

He bowed his head, apparently wanting to meet the gaze of her eyes, but when she noticed his blue irises she turned her face away, quivering in his grasp.

"– you're weird –" He decided and let go of her, stepping around her, making her lower lip start to twitch, burning tears of shame, disappointment and regret gathered under her eyelids, running down her face one by one.

She adjusted the straps of her knapsack on her back and moved ahead on trembling legs wanting to forget it had ever happened.

The next day she felt like throwing up at the thought of their lectures together and ate nothing. She rushed to the classroom at the last minute, walking straight into the room without looking at the people who were waiting for their professor in the corridor.

She sat down in one of the last rows in her seat, far to the side, almost against the wall, where she felt safe.

When she saw out of the corner of her eye his silhouette walking into the hall she froze, lowering her gaze to her fingertips, feeling an uncomfortable constriction in her stomach, trying to blend into the background and not exist.

She shuddered when she noticed that instead of taking his seat in the front row across the hall he moved towards her, walking down the row below her, sitting down opposite her. She swallowed hard when he sat sideways to her, spreading his elbows comfortably on his and her desk, leaning his back against the wall.

"– what's up, little freak? –" He asked simply, tapping his fingers against the top of her table. She looked at him with big eyes, feeling a complete emptiness in her head, having the feeling that she was hot and cold at the same time.

For some reason she wanted to cry again.

Hearing that she didn't answer him he lifted his gaze to her, twisting so that he rested his arms on her desk, correcting his glasses that had slipped off his nose with the index finger of his hand.

"– you've got me used to eating one bar every day and you didn't give me one yesterday – you've ruined my daily routine and it's very fucking annoying, you know? –" He asked with anger and some kind of expectation that completely surprised her, but what she said had nothing to do with his words.

"– I didn't look inside –" She muttered.

"– what? –"

"– I wasn't rummaging through your things –" She explained in a trembling voice feeling that for some reason her eyebrows arched in pain, warm tears one by one began to run down her cheeks again.

"– are you crying? –" He asked in disbelief, wrinkles appeared on his forehead as they always did when someone made him uncomfortable.

"– yes –"

"– because I'm talking to you? –"

"– because I'm ashamed –" She whispered and lowered her gaze, swallowing hard, feeling that it had cost her a lot of strength to choke out these few sentences.

He fell silent for a moment – other students began to sit down around them, their professor announcing that they were about to begin their lecture.

He no longer responded to her words, returning to his previous position, leaning with his back against the wall, one of his hands remaining on her desk. She watched dully as his long fingers beat rhythmically against it, repeating the same movements again and again.

As always, he didn't even open his textbook, didn't write anything down or take notes, memorising everything he heard in his head.

She couldn't afford to do that, so she wrote down meticulously everything their professor spoke about, knowing that it would be one of the topics that would appear on the exam.

As soon as their class was over, she saw his silhouette standing in front of her with the textbook in his hand, which for some reason he carried with him. She packed her bag, pretending she didn't feel his expectant gaze on her.

"I want my Crunchie." He communicated, as if giving her some irrelevant piece of information. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling her lips part involuntarily.

Was he always this cheeky and spiteful?

"Here." He said, pulling a few coins out of his pocket, far too many for one bar, placing them in front of her.

"Just bring it to me." He said impatiently and moved ahead, running down the stairs, correcting his glasses on his nose, disappearing out the door.

She didn't feel like bringing him this fucking bar, but decided she didn't have the strength to stand up to him.

That's why she went to the vending machine standing in the corridor and, using the coins he'd given her, bought him as many bars as the money he'd given her was enough for.

She found him exactly where he always was at this hour, which was in the library.

She knew that he was solving equations not because it was a challenge for him, but because he was terribly bored. She pulled her fabric knapsack off her back and opened it, placing bar after bar on the table top where he sat.

"– I wanted one – are you mad? –"

"– give yourself one each day – you know how to count – have a nice day –"

"– do you have to be so fucking rude? –" He growled with a hint of malice, from which she turned to face him, feeling that for the first time in many years she had lost her temper.

"– take a look at yourself, you spiteful, spoilt brat –" She hissed and froze, wondering how she could have said such a thing, a hot feeling of shame and horror spreading through her stomach.

He stared at her with his lips clenched, furious, his nostrils twitching in an anxious, heavy breath.

She thought he was going to say something, humiliate her again, but they just looked at each other.

"– I – I'm sorry –" She mumbled and turned away, wanting to run away, to sink into the ground, to disappear.

She was sure he would be avoiding her now, telling everyone with amusement what a fucked up and stupid person she was, that she'd stalked him and then started yelling at him in the library.

She knew he commented on various people's behaviour in this way and she was sure he wouldn't spare her.

"– hi, nasty bar slut – what's up? –" He asked, walking up to her as she stood by the notice board, causing her to completely freeze.

"– please, don't call me a nasty slut –" She mumbled, looking at him with big eyes.

He shrugged his shoulders, correcting his glasses on his nose with his index finger, his gaze fixed on the sheets of paper on which the timetables were written.

"– fine – so? –"

She didn't understand what purpose this exchange of words was supposed to serve.

"– and what are you asking? –" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders again.

"– I don't know –"

God.

"– are you still ashamed? –"

She swallowed hard, lowering her gaze to her feet, feeling her heart in her throat.

"– yes –"

"– why? –" He asked, as if he didn't understand what her condition was caused by. "– it was pleasant – finding a candy bar in my backpack pocket every day – unexpected – like magic with this dumb tooth fairy –"

She looked at him in disbelief, feeling a strange kind of warmth and relief spread across her chest. She pressed her lips together, adjusting the knapsack on her shoulders.

"– I saw how Oliver treated you – I think I just wanted to comfort you, but I couldn't speak to you like a normal human being –" She choked out finally, feeling that embarrassing sensation of a tightening in her gut again.

He snorted, correcting his glasses on his nose again.

"– sad bullshit is for poets – isn't it? –" He scoffed, still not looking at her, a mischievous grin on his lips.

She wasn't sure she understood him correctly, but it seemed to her that he was trying to tell her that he liked what she was doing in a way.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"– words have never come easily to me, although my head is full of them –"

"– right – I don't have a problem with talking, as long as someone doesn't start tendentious stories about their deep inner life – I don't give a shit, to be honest –"

He said, still avoiding eye contact. He scratched the back of his neck and rubbed the tip of his nose with the top of his hand, doing his best to look anywhere but at her.

"– it seems to me that you don't give a shit about a lot of things –" She stated finally and it was only when he heard this sentence that he looked at her, the intensity of the blue of his irises frightened her.

"– that's true – but that's who I am – I don't pretend to be anyone, unlike those rich losers who haven't earned anything themselves –" He hissed, and she nodded in agreement.

He hummed under his breath, pleased apparently to find in her a listener who didn't question his rather subjective, and therefore, in his mind, sincere judgements.

"– and you? – why do you behave in this way? –" He asked suddenly, and she blinked, feeling her whole body tense up at the urge in some primitive desire to protect herself.

"– what do you mean? –" She asked finally.

"– that whole crying thing of yours –" He said indifferently, once again correcting his glasses with his finger on his nose.

It seemed to her that he was treating her as an equation for which he lacked data, making it impossible for him to solve, much to his natural frustration as a scientist.

She thought she understood him.

"– I don't seem to feel alive – as if I'm a camera recording everything around me – when suddenly someone speaks to me as a person who should be experiencing and thinking something, I feel ashamed, as if someone has caught me in the act –" She choked out with difficulty, thinking in disbelief, terrified, that for the first time she had expressed in words what she was feeling.

She was more afraid than ever of hearing someone's response to what she had said.

He looked at her for a moment, furrowing his brow, as if analysing in his brain the details she had just provided him with.

"– you're lonely –" He stated finally, as if he had at last found a summary of what he thought of her. She pressed her lips together at his words, embarrassed that he had hit the nail on the head.

"– yes –"

"– me too – that's no reason to cry –" He said, shrugging his shoulders, sliding his hands into his trousers in some subconscious gesture of discomfort.

She nodded at his words, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest.

"– so –" He began, looking at his shoe as if he saw something interesting on it. "– what now? –"

She swallowed hard, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"– what are you asking? –"

"– me and you – are we mates now? –" He asked, and she involuntarily smiled sincerely for the first time in many years, feeling some pleasant warmth ripple through her lower abdomen.

"– yes –"

[leah-lover]

Proposal. Leah Williamson x reader.

Arsenal was your heart and soul. It was everything you worked for, dreamed of and thought about. You dedicated everything to the club. In it you forged a family, lifelong friendships and a most wonderful relationship. However, when a journey decides to end you must embrace it.

The team has organized a dinner to celebrate everything you have given to the club, your commitment and your new journey. You were getting ready for it when you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“ You ready love? “ Asked Leah while looking at you with most love sick eyes.

“ Almost. You look dashing and lovely.” You respond to her. She visibly blushes and hugs you from the back.

“ You too look very very sexy.” She adds referring to the black dress you decided to wear. “ Can't wait until I get it off of you tonight.” She whispers before kissing your bare shoulder.

After getting ready you both head to the restaurant. When you found yourself outside, Leah holds your hand and says “ I am so proud of you for everything.”

“ And I am proud of you too.” You say before kissing her again.

The dinner doesn't go without a few tears shed from you and your teammates. You laughed, joked, and reminisced about the past. Each one of them gave a short speech thanking you for everything.

Leah was the last one to deliver a speech and when it was her turn to speak she looked very nervous so you squeezed her hand and gave her a small smile before she stood up.

“ I didn't know how to start this speech. I didn't know whether to talk about your amazing accomplishments as a player, your work ethic, your derive or your strength which I find admirable. Or I should talk about how amazing, kind, humourous, intelligent, and sweet you are. Or maybe I should mention how much of an amazing, thoughtful, romantic girlfriend you are. All of these things are true, you are one of the best people I know and I wouldn't have asked for a better person to call my teammate, my friend or my family.”

Leah speech was very touching which made you tear up. However, you didn't care much for your tears when when she got on one knee in front of you, and your teammates.

“ My love, it is true that we will most likely not live in the same city together anymore but that would affect the progress of our relationship. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, build a family with you and most importantly call you my wife. So would you do me the honor of marrying me?.”

Tears stained your cheeks as Leah opened the box with the diamond ring in it. You were speechless, but very very happy.

“ Yes oh god yes.” You semi yell as you go down to kiss her.

The restaurant is full of cheers and your friends go feral as Leah puts the ring on your finger.

“I am so glad I get to be your wife.” you say to Leah and you help her get up.

[floylia]

A MOMENT DESIRED

— wanderer x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: He doesn’t need a heart to feel. Puppet or human. A heart or without—it does not matter anymore.

Kunikuzushi was designed to serve a divine purpose.

Kabukimono searched for curiosity and acceptance.

Scaramouche existed to fulfill that which he lacked.

While Wanderer was created to embrace humanity.

To walk beside them. A fresh start–whether he had a heart or not. Because despite it all, his mother discarded him for his emotions–sorrow and laughter–which proved to be a weakness, but perhaps, it’s finally time he acknowledges that craving for the impossible is a waste of time.

So he learns to live.

Rather, Nahida makes him learn, quite literally.

Instead of performing mass destruction, he stands in the House of Daena, scanning through the thousands of books they harbor. He skims through the pages, coughing once in a while from the dust that had settled on the shelves.

A once renowned Fatui Harbinger has now turned into a Vahumana Scholar.

How ridiculous, he thinks.

“I have your tea,” A familiar voice declared through the hushed voices in the room. You approach him with two drinks in hand, “I don’t understand why you like bitter things.”

“The more bitter the better,” he replies calmly, tracing the book spines, and skimming through its contents. Too immersed to engage in a conversation, but he indulges.

“My arms are tired, hurry up”

He pulls out a decrepit book before grabbing his tea from your hand, “You complain too much.”

“It’s piping hot. I don’t understand how you don’t notice the temperature.”

He shrugs and leads both of you to a nearby table. On it, mechanical items, cloth and a sewing kit scatter around, clearly tinkered with, “What is this?’

“I’m making a toy,” you respond.

He raises a brow, expecting you to explain further but you don’t. You take a seat across from him.

“Kshahrewar scholars,” He whispered while shaking his head.

You pass him the sewing kit, “We’re making toys.”

“What. Why?”

“Less questions, more doing.”

At times like this, you remind him of Nahida. Constantly ordering him around. Yet he follows like an obedient dog.

This time not out of obligation as a “prisoner,” but because he wants to.

With you, he doesn’t need to give his actions reason.

It’s a foreign concept.

But he’ll learn. He’s best at adapting.

“Let me teach you,” You say after watching him struggle to put the thread on the pin.

“I’m not made for this.” He says.

“Clearly.”

Your hands brush, he doesn’t understand why his face flush, or why he craves your touch–a moment too quick, a moment desired. But he observes how your concentrated face contorts into various expressions—how your eyes twinkle with passion, how your lips fall into a steady line, how your hands skillfully follow a rhythm as you teach him the ways of knitting.

Admiration flows through his body.

Yes. Admiration. That is the word.

You must’ve noticed his stare, because you match his gaze. It’s too soft. Too intimate. Too close. He looks at your lips then back at your eyes.

Admiration. He reasons.

But the urge to cup your face and kis–

No.

He coughs, “Sorry.”

You continue.

In no time, he gets the hang of it. Hours go by, but it didn’t feel like it. Your presence alone makes time a fickle matter.

Finally, he finishes the small doll.

Both of you admire his work—a short boy with white clothes, dark black hair, paired with a waistband and a teardrop beside its eyes.

In some way, it resembles him. A version of him derived from misery.

“You should’ve joined Kshahrewar. You have the talent for it,” you say truthfully.

“I’d rather not work myself to death for a penny.”

You gasp, “That stereotype is old. Is reusing the same content natural for you Vahumana folks? Does creativity not flow through your class?”

He scoffs at your words, but finds no offense in your statement. He’s fond of your annoyed face, how you ramble into oblivion. Something about hearing your voice makes his none-existent heart flutter.

This. He’s not used to.

“Who is that by the way?” You point at the doll.

“A puppet.”

“A puppet? Don’t they need strings?”

“No. It’s not tied down. It’s free.”

—

You don’t see him the next day.

But you do see another doll lying on your usual table–one that resembles you followed by a note underneath, “The puppet found itself a companion. I hope you don’t mind.”

You certainly don’t mind.

NOTE:

inspired by wanderer’s friendship level 4 story

[abbyshands]

for you

🇵🇸 LINKS | before engaging !!! | m. list | join my tag list!

♡ synopsis; making a home out of catalina island for years on end had been wonderful, but for most of it, you had been derived of the last piece of the puzzle: abigail anderson. you were a skilled medic, so when abby had showed up, you had cared for her, and nursed her back to the girl she was, helping her to heal, and to find home the same way you had. now, it’s abby’s chance to return the favor.

♡ pairing; abby anderson x fem!reader

♡ warnings; lot of game references, some of which include infected, the WLF, plot of the first and second game, loss, violence, etc, general angst (ish) in the beginning, but fluffy at the end, i promise, reader loses her dad in the backstory, and there’s a heavily established backstory for the reader, abby uses nicknames (my love, babe, gorgeous), reader calls abby baby, just general angst n’ fluff tbh!

♡ a/n; sooo this idea has been sitting in my notes app for the longest time, and to be honest, i’m not sure how i feel about the finished product! i don’t think it’s my best work? i don’t know. i like the idea but i’m unsure about the way i executed it. maybe i’ll revisit it at some point, but this is what i’ve got for now ♡

♡ wc; 4.5k

divider creds !

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS. APOCALYPSE.

If someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, you would’ve checked them for a bite mark.

Because they would have been losing their mind.

2034, and all the years beforehand, were years unforgettable. The person you were couldn’t imagine a life that wasn’t the one you had. Infected roamed, and danger lurked. But love prevailed.

And you were lucky to be a part of it.

You were born in Boston, Massachusetts in the 2010’s at an unlucky hour. To an unlucky life. You had lost your mom before you could say your own name, and the only biological family you had ever gotten to know in your life was your dad, who was the reason you were where you were today in the first place.

When you were young, your dad joined a group once asked to by the leader of it, a woman named Marlene. Since then, and for as long as you could remember, this group has been your place to call home.

They called themselves the Fireflies for the very bug they took the name from: Their goal was to spread luminescence in a world full of darkness. Your dad, who was an incredibly skilled medic, was roped into it when you were younger, for that very reason. And because of the group’s dire need for medics at the time, their leader, Marlene, who was an old friend of your dad’s, asked him to join, all but begged him to, really.

Your dad wasn’t one to deny anyone in need. It was in his nature, and it was why he was such a great medic. So, of course, he agreed.

But only if there would be a place for you, too.

Your dad raised you up as a member of the Fireflies, and then later as a medic, and it was because of him that you were who you were: A resilient individual, a survivor, and yet, a person who embodied compassion, just as he did.

The years went by hazily, the older you got, anyway. You became just as immersed into your work as your dad did, bettering your medical knowledge on a daily basis, be it by old books, rusted cassettes, or your dad himself. But all the while, you managed to balance work, love, and family, and, in a world like this one, that was a lot more than most people could say.

For obvious reasons, you couldn’t remember the 2010’s. Then came the 2020’s, which sped by your eyes. But the 2030’s as a general consensus were years ingrained into your brain. Full of friendship, family, and love? At times. But they also encompassed chaos, despair, and pressure, and changed your life forever.

And forever was a long time.

In the year 2033, all that you believed was true about the world as you knew it, crumbled to the ground. In a land following an apocalypse, it wasn’t uncommon to feel as if there was no way out, as if the life you lived had hit a place of no return.

Now, if only there was a way to fix it. A cure, right?

It was late one evening while you were working on somebody in the Fireflies’ medical center, that Marlene came into the room, expression serious, and voice showing for it. Once you had the person you had been caring for under control, you followed Marlene out of the center, and into a room of a pair of people, one familiar, and one not.

Your dad, and a man who would later become a crucial figure in this tale: Surgical expert, Doctor Jerry Anderson.

You didn’t understand what Marlene, your dad, and Mr. Anderson, as you used to call him, were getting at when you were first pulled into that room. All that they were explaining to you was blurring inside of your head.

Because it was unlike anything you had heard before.

Your ears were told a tale that you had heard on numerous occasions. A girl who was only a few years younger than you, was bitten. You weren’t sure how. But it didn’t really matter, did it? Everyone who was bitten turned into an animal in a matter of days. It didn’t matter how she had gotten the bite mark. It didn’t even matter where on her body the mark was. All you knew was that in a few days, this girl that was being described to you, would no longer be human. That she would no longer have control over her body, and she would no longer know right from wrong, up from down, man from woman. All she would know, was kill. Kill. Kill.

Unless she was one in a million.

Ellie Williams was hardly a human in your mind when you originally heard, but a God given chance, to fix the world as you knew it. You never believed you would live to see the day where a bite mark was a good thing, and yet, it was here, gazing you in the eyes.

Immunity. She was immune. The auburn haired girl had been bitten three weeks prior to the date you heard about this, and zilch. As Marlene had explained to you, it was like the mark was healing, not worsening. 

And in a desolate world, where danger lurked every corner, where sorrow was normalized, and where loss was ceaseless, you were desperate. The Fireflies were desperate. Hope like this didn’t come on a daily basis, now, did it?

You jumped on the prospect as soon as you became conscious of it. All of you did.

Graciously unaware that it would blow up in your face.

In the earlier days of 2034, Ellie was smuggled to a Firefly base in Salt Lake City, a medical center, where your dad, Mr. Anderson, and several Fireflies were residing. As head medic by this point, you decided to remain in Boston caring for the members of your group back home, especially in the absence of your dad and Mr. Anderson.

It’s your life’s biggest regret.

Marlene had asked that you come to the Salt Lake City medical center as soon as you could, and to employ someone else to take over for a bit. Mr. Anderson was a good doctor, but he had decided that to perform proper surgery on Ellie, he would need a few more hands. You were honored that it was you he had chosen. To you, it was on the same level as getting an award. And so, alongside Marlene, and a few more members of the group, you made your way to Salt Lake City, your hopes in your hands, and dreams in your heart.

There was a point during the journey, however, where you ran into some trouble. Infected. And naturally, you were not just a medic: You knew how to survive in a world like this, and you knew how to hold your ground.

Splitting up wasn’t usually recommended when it came to any scenario, and for good reasons. However, it was your only choice. You and everyone beside you aside from Marlene, split up to make sure that she was the first one to make it to the medical center. You remember the last thing you said to her like a movie on loop in your head. See you soon.

And it plagues your brain like the virus that grips your world.

See you soon. You wish you had never said it. You wish you had never split up.

You wish it hadn’t happened.

You did see Marlene. But she was no longer alive when it happened. Fear grasped your bones as your body paralyzed, eyes glued to Marlene’s bloody corpse on the second floor of the medical center’s parking garage.

Tears filled your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And then, you remembered.

Dad.

You took off running, brain not even processing that you could be putting yourself in danger by doing so. Whoever had done this to Marlene couldn’t be faraway from the building for all you knew. Hell, they could even be in it. But you didn’t care.

You booked it to the highest floor, where your dad and Mr. Anderson were supposed to be, heart racing, begging and bargaining to the universe, or whatever God there was, or somebody, to ensure that they were okay. That they were just fine.

There are some days where you wish you hadn’t opened that door.

The pair of them, alongside a third medic in the room, were found by you in a shape similar to Marlene. Naturally, you ran to dad first, small, shaky hands reaching out to flip over his face down body.

But you were too late.

Your mind goes blurry whenever it goes back to recall the memory. You don’t remember much: Tears, nausea, shaking, panic. You remember screaming, loudly, at that.

And you remember passing out, before being pulled out of the room.

The second that Jerry Anderson was announced dead, all hell broke loose, and you knew, you knew, it was over. The chance that had been driving you and your family of Fireflies for the last year, was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. Unless a brand new surgeon was going to generously drop from the sky, you were hopeless. 

And it wasn’t even just that.

Because the universe had taken from you the one person you held closest to your heart. To your soul.

Dad.

You had a chance. You all did. 

And, then, it was robbed away from you.

You and your dying group made your way back to Boston knowing just that: That you were collapsing. The days passed by in blurs, each one gloomier than the last. You just weren’t sure what to do anymore. All hope for a cure was gone. All hope for yourself was gone.

In 2036, the Fireflies were disbanded by what little members of it were around to do so, and that was it. It was over. 

Your home was paradise, and paradise was gone.

You didn’t know what to do. Most of the family you had found here in the Fireflies was leaving, searching for a life away from the one you all had known for years. You didn’t know if you wanted to do the same. Part of you wanted to follow suit and leave Boston. Renew who you were. Adapt, and move on. But Boston had always been home, and by leaving it, you were leaving a part of you behind.

But you didn’t have a choice.

It was an early morning in 2036 when you began to pack your bags, readying to go. Where? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that home or not, Boston carried way too many painful memories, way more than you could bear. Marlene was dead. Mr. Anderson was dead. Dad was gone.

You didn’t see what else Boston had to give, that it hadn’t already taken away.

But just, just, when you were about to say your goodbyes, the universe, who had screwed you over in the past, clearly had different plans.

A few members had heard word, from previous members who had left the Fireflies before you, that on the west coast of the country, there was a chance: A chance to find home again, in a place named Catalina Island, a gorgeous land in California.

Risks had failed you before, and so had second chances. But, for once, you wanted to give in. You had to.

So you did.

That’s not to say that the second you got to Catalina Island, finding home once again in your fellow Fireflies, who were just as shattered as you were, that your tale was over. God, it was really, really far from it.

Because there was one more piece to the puzzle.

Abigail Anderson.

Anderson. The last name rang a bell once it escaped her lips. A blonde woman, body bruised, bloodied, and covered from the arms down in oozing gashes. Her hair was short and poorly cut, and from the way her bones were pushing into her skin, you could tell that she was severely malnourished.

Alongside her was a boy, obviously younger than her. Tousled black hair, bruises wherever you looked, and fully unconscious. In your time at Catalina Island, and as a Firefly in Boston, for that matter, you had never seen any pair of people in worse shape.

Not unless they were dead.

You remained head medic once you arrived in Catalina Island, naturally, and you had been managing that way for the last four years. So, when this woman showed up, this young boy by her side, like this, it was you who took control. It was you who nursed them, and it was you who made their scars, in a physical and mental sense, not disappear, but easier to handle. To bear.

By looking at them, by looking at her, it was like a mirror. You saw you.

Which is why you saw her.

Now, if someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, losing your dad, losing Marlene, and losing Mr. Anderson, but falling for his child, you would’ve looked for a bite mark. But now, come the year 2040, where you had made a new life, one that Abigail Anderson was a prevalent part of, happiness no longer seemed impossible.

Because it wasn’t far away anymore, slipping from your fingers, the way it had on numerous occasions. 

It was in your hands.

And you were in Abby’s.

Your eyes were being covered by Abby’s large hands as she led you to a place unknown. You had to assume it was one of the several beaches on the island, sand under your feet, sounds of waves in your ears. A smile had been plastered across your face for what seemed like hours, as Abby dragged you along.

“Come on, Abby. Are you going to tell me what this is about or what?” you asked her for the second time in the last minute. You could hear her low chuckle from behind you, and the way it always happens, comfort surges into your veins.

You had learned from Abby, once you bonded over the mutual loss of your dad and hers at the same man, that once Mr. Anderson had been killed, her and her friends, a few former members of the Fireflies, joined a group named the WLF. You had hence learned that during her time there, she was commonly known as a rugged, scary person, who a lot of people in the WLF didn’t dare insult, nor disobey.

And you couldn’t lie: It was hard to believe that for a second.

You had learned from Abby, also, that her resolve began to slip when she met the young boy who she had made it to Catalina Island alongside, who you had also taken care of: Lev. To put it simply, Lev was a member of a different group, that the WLF was never supposed to come across.

Not unless it was in war.

But he changed her. He did. Some days, you could see how guarded Abby was, how she couldn’t help going back to all she used to know, which was being all but barbaric when she was in Seattle. Closed off, wary. But most days, like today? You knew in your heart, that deep down in hers, Abby Anderson was good. Not innocent, but good.

And that was enough for you.

“Just come on!” Abby chuckled as she walked, not letting up her hold on your eyes for a second as she led you along.

You smiled, shaking your head in mock disapproval. “I have work to do back at the center, and we’re not supposed to be roaming around like this. You know that, right?”

“Babe,” Abby responded in an almost firm tone of voice as her feet quit moving, forcing you to root your body to the spot. It was silent, before she pressed a series of sweet, sloppy kisses to your neck and cheeks, managing to keep her hand over your eyes all the while. She had you crumbling just like that, making you a giggling mess as her lips met your skin.

Her kisses subsided once a million of them seeped into you, and it wasn’t the island heat that had your face warm when Abby was done. “Can you just trust me, please?” she laughed, and you didn’t need your vision to know she was giving you that puppy dog look that had you falling to your knees every time. The one that you couldn’t resist if you gave it your all.

You were too easy. “Yes.”

It wasn’t long before you and Abby reached where she wanted to bring you, and once you did, she paused. She was perched behind you now, large hands over your face, the solacing sound of her sighs coming into your ears. “Okay. Are you ready, my love?”

There wouldn't ever be a day where Abby calling you that wouldn’t make your heart pound in your chest.

“More than,” you easily respond.

As soon as you said it, Abby returned your vision to you, and your eyes can’t help but widen at what you see before you.

Because you never pegged “rugged” Abby Anderson as one for picnics.

“Oh, my God, Abby,” you said more to yourself than the blonde as you slowly approached the scene. Laid out on the sand of the beach was a picnic blanket, a folded blanket, a few pillows, a basket, a few books, and playing cards.

Accompanied by a perfect view of the beach.

“Do you not like it?” Abby asked, and there’s an air of sadness to the way she says it. You turn to look at her on cue, your face one of complete, utter disbelief.

Like it?

“Like it? Baby, I love this. More than know,” you respond, meaning every word. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to care for you. A long, long time, since you had been the receiver, not the giver.

“Abs, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You can see Abby blushing as you approach her and take her face into your hands, her freckled skin burning in heat. She leans into your touch, pressing her forehead onto yours, and holding your hands in her own.

“I just,” Abby sighed, opening her eyes once more to meet yours, solemn expression across her cheeks. “I just don’t feel like I cherish you enough, babe, show it, that is. Because believe me, I do cherish you. S’just, it’s been hard for me to show you how much. All that you did for me and Lev when we got to the island. Taking care of us. Helping us find a home here. I’ll spend the rest of my life saying thank you for it.”

You can feel your soul healing the more Abby speaks.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough to make up for what you did for us, and I wish it was. But I just figured, maybe. . .it could suffice for now.”

“Abby, baby,” you let a small laugh escape your lips as you say it. “You don’t have to make it up to me. At all. I did what I did, because I saw someone in you. I remember asking for your name, and you responded by asking me where Lev was. You didn’t even care what shape you were in. All you wanted to know was if he was okay. You reminded me of me.”

“You reminded me of dad.”

You couldn’t help but sigh, letting silence seep into the air around you as your brain battled to process what you had just said. You didn’t speak on your dad as much as you likely should: Abby knew that, and so did you. Talking about him made your chest compress, and your throat would fail you, making it feel as if you were choking. As if you were helpless. As if you were there all over again. But Abby knew as well as you did, that when your dad came into discussion, it was for a certain reason. 

And for that reason, Abby didn’t speak: She hung fire. For you. For you.

“We live in a world where people combat their own morals just to survive. There’s no good guys. No principles, no rules, no laws. Anyone you come across is just as bad as you, and if not, they’re worse. But when I saw you? I knew. I knew that wasn’t you. Not anymore.”

You know you’re rambling by now, saying whatever comes to mind as soon as it does, but you can’t find it in you to care as you go on. “You want to believe I don’t know how much you care for me. But you don’t need to show it, Abby. I know you do. Right here.”

You take one of Abby’s large hands into yours, and as cliché as it is, not that you care at all, you place it over your heart.

“You feel that, don’t you? That’s all for you, baby. And it’s there that I feel how much you care about me. It’s there that I know.”

The same silence that was here before comes back. But this time, it’s not sad, or dark, or eerie. It’s solacing. It’s warm. It’s home.

And Abby doesn’t need words in order to respond.

It’s her turn to take your face into her hands as she pulls you in close. Her lips meet yours like they have so many times before, her familiar scent hitting your nose as you settle your hands onto her hips. The kiss is slow, and sweet, but passionate, and a burning desire surges inside you to never let her go, to always hold her close. To always call her yours.

You pull back from the kiss once you tire from it, gasping, Abby’s body mimicking yours as she does the same. You gaze into her eyes, the pretty blue ones that always make your heart swell, smiling up at her as you press one last kiss to her lips for good measure. “I adore you, Abby Anderson. You know that, right?” you grin.

It’s the first time you ever hear her giggle. “Me more than you, gorgeous.”

You spend hours there alongside Abby, and it’s the best time of your life. You spend time indulging in a few snacks the blonde packed for you, playing cards, and running around and playing in the sand, smiling all the way. You even get to hear Abby read to you, one of the most endearing things in the world, accompanied by the calming sound of the ocean before you. And when it came time for sunset, you sat down beside Abby, gazing on as amber, ochre, and rose faded into night.

It was perfect.

When it was nearly time for the evening to come to an end, you used the second blanket Abby had packed for your shared night to cuddle up beside her, heads rested on the pillows she had carried along as well. The side of your face was pressed into her chest as you gazed into the sky above you, Abby’s hand rubbing your back in slow circles to console you. Small suns coat the evening sky like sweet, powdered sugar, accompanied by a full moon that looks incredible over the horizon. All you could hear was the sound of the ocean, alongside Abby sighing gingerly every once in a while, or her pressing kisses to your forehead.

Not that you needed much more than that.

Suddenly, the sound of Abby chuckling in your ears snaps you out of your head, and you turn your face upwards curiously. Abby’s smile makes you smile, and it’s no surprise you began to wonder what the blonde woman found so funny all of a sudden.

“Remember how I told you Lev and I had to cross those bridges that were really high up?” Abby asked, and you had to raise an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. “Mhm,” you mumble, which is when Abby goes on.

“Well, before that, we had to get there by foot once we got out of the aquarium I told you about, the one I used to go to all of the time. That part of Seattle is overrun in rushing rapids, so a lot of the buildings around there were a lot more demolished than they usually would be anywhere else,” she explained.

“And, well. . .”

“We walked into this building, and there was a painting of these dogs playing cards. And I asked Lev if he knew our dogs could really play cards like that. Then he asked me if anyone found me funny,” Abby laughed. “It cracks me up whenever I remember it.”

She wasn’t the only one laughing. “Sounds like Lev. And like you,” you smile, and the tale makes you recall a humorous memory of your own. “Once, I was working late at the medical center back in Boston. I was doing research on this girl who had been feeling sick, but I wasn’t sure by what. Mind you, it’s late, and silent, if you don’t count me flipping the pages in my books.”

You giggle just remembering it. “It’s the weirdest thing ever, but my dad was really good at making Clicker noises. Like, really good. Sounded so real it made your heart drop. I was reading when I heard it, and I remember wondering how the hell infected had gotten inside. ‘Course I grab what was closest to me, a scalpel, and I swivel around.”

“And it’s dad.”

That one got Abby to burst out chuckling. “Oh, my God. Of all the things you could get, gorgeous. A scalpel?”

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully so. “What can I say? I’m just a medic. I didn’t carry a gun.”

Once Abby’s done laughing, which seems to take forever, she smiles down at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead as if to make up for poking fun at you. You cuddle closer into her, letting your body relax in her embrace as a sigh escapes your lips.

You fall back into silence soon enough, eyes glued to the sky as Abby rubs her hand over your back, holding you like you would fade away if she let you go. You run your fingers through her short hair as you press kisses to her neck, jaw, and face, giving her all the love you know she deserves. Your eyes scan her features like she was molded by some higher power, and you can’t help but want to worship her, endlessly.

Not just for what she looks like. But for who she is.

“My baby. It’s like you were made for me, you know?” you whisper in Abby’s ear as your eyes pierce into her blue ones. But Abby’s head shook quickly.

You can predict what she’s going to say in response. “No, gorgeous.”

“It’s you who was made for me.”

—

reblogs are very much welcomed! <3

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[gfhunklescalendar]

The 2025/2026 Gravity Falls Hunkles Calendar (print version) is now available for pre-order on Etsy! 

We're at the half-way point for the pre-order period, but I have not sold half the amount of calendars needed to put them into production. Make sure you pre-order now to ensure this calendar gets printed! If you'd like to help us spread the word, reblog this post! Or share this post over on Twitter!

Full info under the cut!

Additionally, digital versions of the previous calendars (2022, 2019, and 2017) and the Wayfaring Strangers art book are also for sale during (and after) the pre-order period. The old digital calendars will be $5, and Wayfaring Strangers will be $10.

The 2025/2026 Gravity Falls Hunkles Calendar features art from 21 amazing artists and is priced at $30 USD. The calendars will be 12”x 12" and saddle-stitched with a hole for hanging. 

This is a limited print run of 350 calendars, so when they’ve sold out, I will not be printing any more! Pre-orders will be available for 2 weeks, and if I somehow sell 350 calendars in that time, There’s a chance I will print more copies.

2025's "Fully Clothed Old Men: Back in Style" is a slight derivation from our previous years. More of a silly pin-up-ish calendar, this year mainly features a young Stan in all his mullet-sporting glory, but there ARE 4 months where we've given young Ford a spotlight.

2026's "Fully Clothed Old Men: The Final Layer" features senior Grunkles enjoying some more mundane adventures, like baking, doing laundry, or just chilling in front of the TV.

Both calendars feature art and holidays based on Gravity Falls (and Gravity Falls adjacent things), standard US holidays, key religious holidays, and a select number of international holidays. 

You should find that the Etsy shop will automatically figure out shipping costs for you, once you put in your address. Please, please make sure you enter your complete address correctly!