#just playin around with sai lol

[todayisafridaynight]

Hahahaa he's so "bright talented young man alters himself to attain greatness and escape a life he was unhappy with but despite warnings (he ignored them) fails in the end and dies while his father lives on without him"

Secondly though I also HAD to throw on some Mother Mother. Notably, Body (tbh a disabled bitch anthem imo) and Arms Tonight (y'know. Bc the end of the game). Stg I'll send you the playlists for the Arakawa's when I'm done with them. I take my sweet ass time tho v sorry hahaha 😂

Litcherallyyyyyy thats what im sayin bro..... esp when in the story of icarus his father helps him escape the island/helps him succeed and when icarus does fail his father is left imprisoned.... does that not happen to our icarus too.... does that not happen to his father also..... wild....

And take your time with your playlists, no rush ! A dude knows what its like tryin to make it Just Right

[roaringheat]

I was really productive today and i'm trying to be proud of myself but theres nothing like being reminded by my family that they consider me lesser and an after thought to kill my mood and motivation

[thebearer]

in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two

prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.

or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3

contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+

Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much. 

“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!” 

“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-” 

“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. 

Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad. 

That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen. 

“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-” 

“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house. 

Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine. 

God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep. 

Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery. 

“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.” 

“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him. 

“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too. 

“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.” 

Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-” 

“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-” 

“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-” 

“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?” 

Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.” 

“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.” 

Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose. 

“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-” 

“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him. 

“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!” 

“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.” 

“You do?” Fak perked up. 

“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.” 

Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed. 

“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.” 

Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy. 

“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C’mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.” 

Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother. 

“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button. 

Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state. 

“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?” 

“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked. 

“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by. 

“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.” 

“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was  given away by the cat. 

“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy. 

“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness. 

“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously. 

“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch. 

Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick. 

Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.” 

Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left. 

Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York. 

His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful. 

“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening. 

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-” 

“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed. 

“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff. 

“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse. 

“Nat, I-” 

“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself-” 

“-I am-” 

“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-” 

“-No, I know-” 

“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically. 

“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-” 

“-Don’t-” 

“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.” 

Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it. 

“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered. 

“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor. 

Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again. 

Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears. 

“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-” 

“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.” 

Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.” 

Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words. 

“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.” 

Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now. 

Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-” 

“-I-I’m not-” 

“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.” 

“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out. 

“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.” 

“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.” 

Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.” 

Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older. 

“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.” 

Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization. 

 “You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.” 

Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.” 

Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor. 

“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything. 

“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway. 

Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak. 

“I am!” Fak chirped defensively. 

Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness. 

He knew that time would come. 

Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-” 

“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-” 

“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?” 

“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?” 

Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?” 

“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.” 

“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out. 

Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him. 

“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.” 

Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about. 

So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey. 

It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that. 

“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.” 

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.” 

“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.” 

“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.” 

“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.” 

Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.” 

“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.” 

[pumpkinbxtch]

— keep drivin' ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° (headcanons)

• what kind of drivers are the hoo guys?

who's here: percy, jason, frank & leo

warnings: none

— percy

☆ radiostar is playin': malibu by the driver era...!

Percy's a solid driver, always opening the door for you and spoiling you rotten.

He doesn't mind your stuff scattered around; he just loves having you around, even if you're not physically there.

If someone else hops in the car, they'll notice something poking beneath their thighs and raise their leg. "What the hell, dude?" they say, lifting the object. Percy checks the rearview mirror and grins widely seeing your lip gloss.

There are hair ties in the glove compartment and a mini version of your perfume.

As you hum along to the radio, he nods along, hands on the wheel but stealing a kiss on your cheek at every red light.

Sometimes, when you open the door yourself, you find a flower on your seat.

— jason

☆ radiostar is playin': keep drivin' by harry styles...!

Jason's a different vibe.

He also opens the door but ensures everything's tidy before you get in.

He likes having a spare change of clothes for you in the trunk, just in case.

He drives carefully, paying a lot of attention, never forgiving himself if anything happened to you.

Yet, he can't help but place a hand on your thigh, softly squeezing while you talk.

He wears special glasses to avoid glare,

and when you're gone, he puts your things back in place.

When he flips down his visor, he sees the kiss you left on the mirror, keeping it until you replace it with another lip color.

— frank

☆ radiostar is playin': overdrive by conan gray...!

Frank does all the boyfriend basics but always goes the extra mile.

He'll open the door and adjust your seat before you sit, making sure you're comfortable.

He cares if you buckle up or if the sun bothers you.

He drives with both hands on the wheel, but

you notice he's always tensing up a bit when he drives, so at every stop, you give him a kiss on the cheek or peck on the lips in traffic.

He gets easily distracted by you, so he tries his best not to sneak glances.

You're the one who puts a hand on his leg and gently strokes it while you chat.

Definitely has a "pet on board" sticker, finding it amusing.

His car's equipped for easy pet hair removal, even for a bear.

He keeps your things in compartments by the door and

hangs one of your bracelets on the rearview mirror.

— leo

☆ radiostar is playin': our song by taylor swift...!

Leo loves his car, but he loves you more. He can build any car model by himself, but there'll never be another like you.

That has nothing to do with it but I had to say it, lol

Opening the door, he bows and says, "Your carriage, my lady," a total gentleman.

He may act cool, but he always sneaks a peek to make sure your seatbelt's on. Even if he frequently checks his car for damage.

He's got one of your ribbons you use in your hair tangled on the steering wheel.

You're everywhere in his car, with a Polaroid of you stuck to the visor mirror. He loves seeing it when you're not there, and on the other side, there's one of you both.

While driving, he holds your hand on the gear stick, sometimes explaining gear shifts in his velvety voice.

He'll also place his hand on your thigh or lean in for a kiss, saying "beso¹," and you quickly oblige, both keeping your eyes on the road.

beso¹: kiss

[cybrs4pphic]

ellie is so a boob girl idc what u say to me ellie loves boobies.

fem!reader, boobs (obviously), tit play lol, 18+ minors go away

ellie who always has her arm around your shoulder or waist and always just manages to get a squeeze or two in before you’re swatting her hands away because “ellie, we are in public,” 

ellie who consistently walks up behind you when you’re making dinner, or literally doing anything, and just grabs a handful of em. says she just wants to say hi to “her girls” or she’s just “keepin ‘em warm for you”

ellie who escalates it very quickly by pinching n playin with your nipples just to get a reaction out of you. her putting her hands under your shirt trailing them up your stomach to your tits 

ellie who has you in her lap, all 8 inches of her inside you, watching your tits bounce while you ride her cock. n she just can’t help herself before she even knows it she’s leaning in and putting your nipple in her mouth. bonus points if they’re pierced or sensitive you’d literally have to pry her off your tits, she’ll be there forever

kinda short but oh well i might delete this :p

[hotpinkstars]

BORDER COLLIE - boothill x reader

- you, boothill, and your daughter spend a nice morning together, allthewhile you and your husband converse about a dog.

- i don't know why i made this i just thought it would be a fun little thing idk lol. i just had to add that little bit of jazz to the end bc like yk... idk anyways i'm trynna set myself on a better posting schedule and i think im starting off strong mmm enjoy

- all fluff, tiny mention of pregnancy at the very end, pre-cyborg boothill, his daughter is still alive here and everything is normal, wc 714

You were looking out the window, out at the vast amount of farmland you and your husband, Boothill, had decided to buy when he brought home the little girl you’re now able to call your daughter.

It was a nice, big place, suitable for animals of all kinds, and very family-friendly. You were currently watching your daughter play around with a baby goat that her father decided to bring out, a smile on all three of your faces. 

She seemed so happy, waddling around the goat, clapping her chubby little hands when the goat gave a soft little lick to her cheek. She had just learned how to walk, and had been able to say a few words for the past few months now. 

You walked out the back door, waving at Boothill before he waved his hand as a gesture to have you over by them. While you were walking over, you could hear your daughter shout “Goat! Goat! Cute goat!” While bobbing up and down with her legs and clapping her hands. It made you laugh a little bit before leaning into your husband's side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm up and down while supervising your daughter. 

“Dada!” She squealed, giggling. Boothill ruffled her hair before leaning down to give her a kiss on her forehead, making her giggle even more. “Dada and mama!”

You smiled wider than you thought you ever could have. You were so blessed to have Boothill as a husband, and such a special, precious girl as a daughter. 

“Well, we can’t really bring a goat in th’ house, n’ she seems to enjoy playin’ around with it a bunch…” Boothill said, standing next to you with his arms crossed. “What if we got a dog?”

“Really? A dog?” You looked up at him, and he nodded. “We have horses, goats, sheep, cows, and probably some reptiles living in the bushes. Do we really need more?”

He hummed. “The thing is, dogs can be domestic, hun. I got lucky this lil’ goat is so docile, good enough for her to be able to hang ‘round it without me having to worry ‘bout it taking her face off.”

“True. But we’d need a dog that can handle farmlife, not just any old dog. A boujee dog would not do very well in this type of setting. Keep that in mind.” 

He laughed before shaking his head. “Nah. I was thinkin’ more like a Border Collie or somethin’. I’d rather have one that's gonna make use of all this land.”

Your daughter came up to the both of you, lightly slapping at your legs to get your attention. You picked her up, giving Boothill a signal to go put the goat back in its respective area before meeting the two of you back inside.

A few moments later, when Boothill arrived back inside, you had lunch started, greeting him before he washed his hands and helping your daughter wash hers, too. He explained to her that she’s always to wash her hands before and after touching an ‘outside animal’ (as he calls it, so her itty bitty brain can comprehend it) otherwise she could get sick. He does the same, too. 

You set the table for lunch, putting some leftover salad and chicken on you and Boothills plates from last night. You gave your daughter some chicken too, but cut into very small squares, and strawberries instead of salad. 

The three of you sat down to eat, occasionally conversing about random things. She was too busy picking at her strawberries to notice your conversation, but you both still kept a close eye on her. 

“About the dog idea, are you sure?” You asked, your voice laced with some uncertainty. ‘I feel like we already have so much on our plate. Are you really willing to walk it every morning?”

“Well, o’course I am. I know what havin’ a dog is like, my dads always had one. I grew up around ‘em.” He takes another forkful of salad before going on. “But why’re ya so concerned? What else is stoppin’ ya from sayin’ yes?”

You smiled before laughing to yourself, leaving him temporarily confused. 

“Well, I want to hold off on the dog, because…

…I’m pregnant.”

[angelbaby-fics]

Attatched At The Hip

Word Count: 660

A/N: ahh this was just some rambly thoughts about bucky that kinda turned into a fic? i don't love how i ended it so maybe i'll revisit this in a little bit when my computer is fixed but i couldn't resist posting it already because i just. guys i love bucky so much and i just wanna tlk about him all the time. lol. so yeah this is just some bucky fluff that i hope you guys enjoy 💕

That’s what Steve always teased that you and Bucky were, attached at the hip. If you could spend the rest of your life anywhere in the whole world, it would be cradled in Bucky’s left arm, held safely and firmly against his side. It wasn’t a matter of favoritism, you loved your daddy just as dearly as your Baba, and you were always eager and excited for hugs and kisses from the great Captain America. You and Bucky had a deep bond just between the two of you, one that Steve respected and understood, and being constantly held was mutually beneficial for that bond: you were always able to be soothed and cared for whenever your heart desired it, and Bucky was persistently reminded that he was loved, safe, and doing good by you. 

Plus, it helped that his metal arm never, ever got tired. 

That’s how you found yourself now, cradled into Bucky’s side and perched upon his muscular thigh in the Avengers compound briefing room. Usually when a meeting was called, you’d be left with whichever caregiver didn’t have to attend that day, or you got to go to daycare if both were recruited that day. This time, however, you were still fast asleep on Bucky’s chest where you’d decided to take your nap that day when he got the meeting alert. Steve was off that day and offered to take care of you while Bucky was busy, but the thought of rousing you from your most peaceful state made both their hearts ache, so along you came. 

Coos of adoration had echoed through the meeting room when Bucky entered with you, but he politely shushed his coworkers. The goal was to keep you asleep for as much of the meeting as possible, knowing that as soon as you woke up you’d want a bottle, and that waking up in a strange room would probably send you into a tantrum anyways. Fortunately, with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he was able to sit in the far back of the room with you and still hear everything being said. 

The change in location from the couch all the way to the briefing room only caused you to stir the tiniest bit, Bucky’s even breaths keeping you rooted in your slumber as the meeting commenced. At one point, Thor let out a raucous laugh, and you seemed to react in your sleep, flexing your fingers at the sound of your friend, but not even the excitement at the thought of playtime could outweigh the comfort you felt in Bucky’s arms. He ran his right hand across your back, soothing you back into dreamland for the rest of the meeting, and you only finally awoke as everybody was saying their goodbyes and Bucky stood up to leave.

Maybe it was because you’d already napped for over two hours, maybe it was the shift of energy in the room as all the Avengers were now free to shake off work mode and socialize with each other. You lifted your heavy head from Bucky’s shoulder and blearily looked around, half open eyes taking in the fact that you were not at home and instead in an area of the compound you rarely had reason to visit. Seeing all your Avenger friends together in this location, you put two and two together, grabbing tightly onto Bucky’s shirt as you looked up at him with worry. 

“Baba gotta go to a meeting now?” You asked, still fragile from your nap and not wanting to give up the comfort of your caretaker’s embrace. But Bucky only chuckled. 

“Doll, I already went to the meeting, you slept through it!”

“I did?” You questioned with genuine surprise, in disbelief that you’d done such a thing.

“Sure did, angel. Did you have a good nap?” “Uh huh!” You nodded. “I had a dream… I was playin’ wif Thor.” 

You smiled to yourself, recalling the way you’d heard him laugh even in your slumber. 

[beskarandblasters]

Mothman Fever

Mothman!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Author’s note: Shout out to @nostalxgic for making this killer graphic for me!! Also the kick ass banners and !!Mothman!! dividers are by @saradika!! This was my first time writing any sort of monster fucking so let me know how I did!!

Summary: You and your friends head to Point Pleasant, West Virginia in late September for the Mothman Festival. And that’s where you meet Joel Miller, a fellow Mothman enthusiast. But once you spend some time alone with him you realize that he’s not who he says he is.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, no outbreak, drinking, semi public sex, use of pet names (luna lol), oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, sex pollen, dub con, monsterfucking, no use of y/n

“Don’t you think Mothman is kinda hot?”

You glance at your friend Tara in the rear view mirror and raise your eyebrow. 

“How can a moth be hot?”

“Oh, come on! You know he’s not a normal moth… he’s got like… muscular legs,” Janelle, your other friend, chimes in from the passenger's seat. 

“You don’t wanna fuck Mothman?” Tara asks. 

“... No? And you do?”

“How can you be a Mothmanner and not wanna fuck him?” she continues.

“Mothmanner?” you snort.

“Mothman enthusiast, whatever you wanna call it.”

“Not really. I’m more interested in him for scientific purposes.”

“That just leaves more of him for us, Tara,” Janelle says.

“Yeah, after you examine him for research we’ll tag team him.”

“You guys are gross,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

Janelle grabs your phone connected to your car through the aux and opens Spotify, searching for a song.

“Whatcha playin’?” you ask.

“Just a silly little diddy. Perfect driving song.”

The sound of a creaking door and a bubbling sound comes through your car speakers. You know exactly what she chose. As the drums kick in you ask, “Really? The Monster Mash?”

“It’s festive,” she shrugs.

“Oh yeah, turn that shit up,” Tara adds.

You roll your eyes and turn up the volume. You take the Point Pleasant exit off the highway and the anticipation brews in your stomach. You’re into all sorts of cryptids but there’s something different and intriguing about Mothman specifically that you can’t put your finger on. You’ve been picturing this moment for a long time but… not with Monster Mash playing in the background. 

Janelle turns down the music and says, “Look what I found on Facebook! There’s a group Mothman stakeout tomorrow night at the McClintic Wildlife Area. We should go!”

She hands Tara her phone and lets her look at the event details. 

“Sounds like fun. You down?” Tara asks, handing the phone back to Janelle.

“I mean, why not?” you say, entering the residential streets of Point Pleasant. 

To say the city of Point Pleasant is enthusiastic about the Mothman Festival would be an understatement. The city is decked out in decorations and the streets are littered with people in costumes. As you get closer to 4th Street, where the Mothman Museum and the famed Mothman Statue are located, it gets even busier. A black banner hung between two telephone poles reads “Welcome to the 20th Annual Mothman Festival” in white block letters. You drive down the street slowly, careful not to hit any festival goers on your way to your hotel, passing the Mothman Statue before turning onto the street your hotel is on. 

You park your car and hastily grab your bags before heading into the lobby to check in. A hotel like this in Point Pleasant, West Virginia wouldn’t normally cost a lot but it’s Mothman Festival weekend and hotels across the area have jacked up their prices. 

You get your room keys from the desk and head to the room to change quickly before hitting the town. It’s still quite early in the day, only around two in the afternoon and there’s plenty of festivities to be had. You change into a black t-shirt that says “Mothman ate my entire ass at a Denny’s”, a pair of ripped jeans and a pair of converse before heading out with your friends. 

You walk down the street and head to your first stop; the Mothman Statue who is unreasonably buff, complete with a six pack and a tight ass. Each of you take pictures slapping his ass before taking a “normal” group photo standing beside it. 

The next stop is Village Pizza where they have a pizza with toppings arranged to look like Mothman. On the way there you stop and take pictures with other festival goers who are dressed as Mothman, just having a grand ole time. 

You arrive at the pizzeria and get a booth, waiting for a server to come take your order. And that’s when you see him. No, not Mothman but an attractive human man sitting at another booth across the restaurant. You make contact and look away out of shyness. But something about you tells you to look at him again. And when you do you find he’s looking at you still, mouth curving into a smirk when you lock eyes again. This time you notice his features; graying hair, deep brown eyes, and a strong nose. He’s wearing a flannel and leaning forward on the table, resting his elbows on it. He gives you a small wave and you wave back without thinking, prompting Tara to ask, “Who are you waving at?”

“No one,” you say quickly, looking away from the man. 

“Nah, you’re lying. I’m gonna look,” Tara says, starting to turn around. 

“Don’t-” you start but it’s too late. She turns around and spots the man, who also shoots her a wave. 

“Him?” she says, turning back to face you. Janelle turns around, too. And just like with Tara, the man waves to her. 

“And what about it?” you ask. 

“Oh, he’s hot. Go over there and talk to him,” Janelle says. 

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Tara asks. 

“I’m… not that forward.”

“It’s the Mothman Festival, go fucking wild,” Janelle shrugs. 

“Agreed,” Tara nods. 

“Okay, fine. Fine! I’ll go,” you say, sliding out of the boot, legs already feeling like jelly. 

You walk over to him and watch his smirk turn into a full smile. You stand by his table and feel stupid. What kind of person makes eye contact with someone in a restaurant and just decides to boldly introduce themself? What if he’s here with another girl?

“Hi, um, I’m here with my friends and I saw you across the restaurant and I, uh, thought I’d say hello,” you say nervously, feeling even stupider by the end of your pathetic introduction. 

“Hey there. I’m Joel. Would you like to join me?”

“Are you here with anyone?”

“No, just me. My brother was supposed to come but he bailed on me to go to New Jersey.”

You sit down across from him, continuing the conversation.

“Ah so you’re not from around here?”

“No, just here for the festival, like I’m assuming you are,” he says, gesturing to your shirt. 

And now you feel self conscious of what you’re wearing but stupid shirts like this are literally all you fucking packed. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s funny.”

“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“You doing anything tonight?”

“Nothing in particular tonight. But tomorrow night my friends and I are going to that group Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area.”

“Oh nice. I’m going to that, too.”

“It sounds like fun!”

“Well if you’re not doing anything tonight maybe I can take you out to the bars tonight. I think some alcohol would loosen you up and make you less shy, Luna.”

“S-sure that sounds like fun. What time?” you ask, heart fluttering at the nickname. 

“Around eight. You staying in the area? I can meet you at your hotel.”

“Sounds good!” 

You tell him the name of your hotel and get up to go back to your friends. 

“And by the way,” he says, stopping you, “I’m Joel.”

You tell him your name but he still chooses to say, “See you tonight, Luna.”

You walk back to your friends and sit in the booth, finding that they already ordered the Mothman pizza and were waiting for you before they started eating. But they didn’t mind. 

“So who is he? What’s his deal?” Tara asks. 

“Uh, his name is Joel and he’s here for the festival.”

“Alone?” Janelle asks. 

“His brother bailed on him to go to Jersey.”

“Who bails on the Mothman Festival to go to New Jersey of all places?” Janelle says. 

“Not sure about that but he asked me to go out tonight.”

“You said yes, right?” Tara questions. 

“I did… Was I not supposed to?”

“No! No, you need to go. Right, Janelle?”

“Agreed.”

“Thanks, guys… He’s also going to McClintic tomorrow night, too.”

“Oooh,” they both say in unison. 

“It’ll be fun,” you say, “But let’s eat and get the other stuff on our list done. I feel bad I’m leaving you guys tonight.”

“Don’t feel bad. He’s hot,” Tara says, taking a bite of her slice of pizza.

“And older,” Janelle says.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We’ll see if it even works out.”

“You sell yourself short. You went over and made the first move. And then he asked you out. He’s gotta be interested,” Janelle continues.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I always am,” she laughs.

You finish your pizza and head to the next stop on your list; a local coffee shop called The Coffee Grinder, where they have Mothman shaped cookies complete with red eyes. You eat your cookies and finish up at the coffee shop before heading back to the hotel, weaving in and out of the festival crowds. You get to your room and go to change, looking to wear something less embarrassing but… that’s not possible with the clothes you packed. You decide to put on a shirt that’s a little bit better; one that reads “I kissed Mothman in the lamp section of Home Depot” and opting for a skirt with the same pair of converse. 

Tara and Janelle wish you good luck on your date before you leave. You go down to the lobby a little bit before eight and wait for Joel, anxiously pacing back and forth. You feel a hand on your shoulder, startling you. You turn around to find Joel, greeting you with a smile. 

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“Just me. Didn’t mean to startle ya.”

“No worries. Where are we going?”

“Just one of the local spots downtown. There’s a band playing there tonight.”

“Sounds like fun!” 

And with that you’re walking side by side to the bar. The streets are even more lively than they were earlier in the day. You try not to notice the way he puts a protective hand on the small of your back whenever you walk through a crowd.

He leads you off the crowded street and into a bar that’s also just as busy. Luckily, he spots some empty stools at the bar and leads you over there. It’s pretty loud so getting to know him here might not be in the cards for tonight but at least you’ll have the alcohol to loosen you up a bit like Joel said. Joel orders a beer and you order a special blood orange margarita, complete with a gummy butterfly on top– how festive.

“You must be pretty into Mothman, huh? I guess ya gotta be if you’re coming here,” he says, half shouting over the loud music. 

“Haha, yeah! My friends think he’s hot.”

“Really?” he says, eyes widening as he takes a sip of his drink. 

“Yeah, I don’t really get it! I just think he’s interesting but if he were real they’d probably try to fuck him or something.”

“You wouldn’t, Luna?” he asks, a playful grin spreading across his face. There it is, that nickname again.  

“You would?” you counter. 

“Maybe if he bought me dinner first,” he laughs. 

After a few more laughs and another round of drinks, you feel yourself loosening up a bit and enjoying the night more. From what you can tell, Joel seems like a nice, southern guy who’s a fellow cryptid enthusiast, no red flags so far. 

“I have to ask, Luna… Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks after the third round of drinks. He’s definitely a little tipsy by now. 

“No, sir,” you say, immediately regretting the sir that slipped out. 

He inches a little closer to you, eyes looking you up and down, and says, “What do ya say we get out of here?” 

Is it a stupid idea to leave a bar and go somewhere with a man you just met earlier that day? Probably. But do you care? Not really, especially in your slightly inebriated state. 

You nod and he flags down the bartender to pay the tab, before grabbing your hand and walking you out of the bar. 

“Where are we going?” you ask when you step back out onto the street. 

“Wherever,” he says nonchalantly, “But tell me Luna, are you a dirty girl?” his large hand grabbing your waist as you walk, pulling you closer into him. 

You can’t deny you want him. And you’re feeling a bit more confident than usual. 

“For you? Sure am.”

“Dirty enough to do it in an alley?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” you drunkenly say, excitement building up between your legs. 

He turns a corner, leading you down a small, dimly lit alleyway. You ignore all of the red flags practically screaming at you. Between your undeniable attraction to Joel and the alcohol, your judgment is heavily impaired to say the least.

He walks you to the end of the alley, to a spot where you hopefully won’t get caught. With a brick wall pressed up against your back, he starts placing wet, open mouthed kisses along your neck, hands greedily pawing your breasts over your shirt. A small gasp escapes your lips when he nips at the soft skin on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark that your friends are definitely going to question later. 

His hand slips under your skirt, toying with the fabric of your underwear; your damp underwear. He pulls it to the side, running his fingers along your entrance, collecting whatever wetness is there and bringing his hand in front of your face to show you. 

“This,” he says, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle finger, pulling them apart and watching your wetness stretch with it, “is all the evidence I needed,” he finishes. 

The deranged and devious look in his eyes as he looks at the physical evidence of how bad you want him makes your knees weak. He brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting your juices and sucking them clean, closing his eyes at the taste. He replaces fingers back on your cunt, stroking it lightly and nipping your neck again. 

“You taste so fucking good, Luna. So sweet,” he says, coming out as a low growl. 

Without warning, he pushes two fingers in, not letting you warm up with a single one first. He curls them against your walls and you’re so drunk you forget you’re in public, letting out a moan that’s just a bit too loud. 

“Shh,” he whispers against your neck and you try your best to keep quiet…

Until you hear a stern “HEY!” causing you to gasp. 

He pulls his fingers from you quickly and you both look to your right to see a police officer with a flashlight, pointed directly at you. The officer’s eyes trail down to your skirt and then back up to your neck; to the marks on your neck. He sighs. 

“Really guys? Trying to fuck in an alley like a couple of teenagers?”

You stand up straight and smooth your skirt down, unsure of what to do next. 

He sighs again and says, “Get outta here before I arrest you for public indecency! Damn festival goers…”

You blink a few times, in disbelief that he’s letting you go. But Joel grabs your hand and leads you out of the alley, with you holding your breath the whole time. The cop mutters something about how he thought he caught a drug deal as you walk past him. When you hit the sidewalk you exhale, letting the tension leave you. As for Joel he starts hysterically laughing, a stark contrast to the embarrassment you’re feeling. 

He notices the look on your face and asks, “What? You didn’t think that was funny?” while trying to hold back more laughter. 

“Not really!” you say, lightly slapping him on the arm. 

“Aw come on, Luna. He just blamed it on the festival and let us off with a warning. It could’ve been a lot worse but it wasn’t!” he reassures you. 

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh. 

Your phone vibrates in your bag so you pull it out. Your friends are texting you, asking you when you’ll be back. The time on the screen says two in the morning but how is that even possible? Joel met you at eight and you only went to one bar, only had three rounds of drinks and you didn’t go all the way in the alley just now. Chalking it up to being drunk and losing track of time, you put your phone back in your bag and say to Joel, “I think I should get back to my friends.”

“Of course,” he says, “I’ll take you back now.”

The walk back to your hotel is somewhat quiet. The festival goers on the streets are mostly cleared up by now. You assume the quietness is due to the embarrassment from earlier and you wonder if Joel is mad at you for getting worked up. You shake your head and try to put that thought out of your mind, still trying to salvage what you have with him, if anything at all. 

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you start just as you turn onto the block your hotel is located on, “And I’m excited to see you tomorrow at the Mothman stakeout.”

“Me, too, Luna,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Trust me, we’ll have lots of fun tomorrow night.” 

You stop at the entrance to your hotel and begin to part ways. He pulls you in for a kiss and wishes you goodnight. But before he leaves he exchanges phone numbers with you, just in case it’s hard to find each other at the stakeout tomorrow night. You type your name into his phone followed by a butterfly emoji. He chuckles when he sees it, saying, “See you tomorrow, Luna.” And with that, he turns and walks down the street, disappearing into the night. 

Heading back up to the room, you replay the night’s events, trying to get a read on Joel and determine your feelings for him. You decide that you’re definitely interested in him… but you need to know more. Upon entering the door, Tara and Janelle are standing within just a few feet of the entrance, side by side and arms folded. 

“What?” you ask, reading the expression on their faces. 

“An update would’ve been nice,” Tara says. 

“I lost track of time!” you reply. 

“I get that but you were with some mystery man you just met today. You don’t know his intentions!” Janelle adds. 

“You’re right,” you sigh, “Nothing crazy happened. I just forgot to look at my phone.”

“We’re just glad that you’re okay! …And that we can finally go to bed now,” Tara says, yawning and moving over to the bed. 

“Sorry to keep you guys up! But thanks for being concerned for me. I’m just gonna be in the bathroom,” you say. 

They nod and get into bed, while you go to the bathroom to inspect the marks on your neck under better lighting. And sure enough, there’s several marks and there they are but there’s also… a gold film? Perhaps sheen is the right word? Whatever is it there’s flecks of gold peppered along the hickeys. Maybe it’s something from the bar? That’s the most logical explanation you can think of. You complete your nighttime routine and head off to bed, head filled with dreams of Joel, filling in the gaps of information about him. 

-

The next day is a blur, a myriad of events strewn together haphazardly. Your friends can tell you’re in a sort of daze; you can tell by the way they look at you, but they choose to say nothing. First, you went back to The Coffee Grinder because after your late night, you desperately need caffeine. After that, you hit up the Mothman Museum, taking advantage of some special exhibits and talks for the festival. And finally, it’s time to get ready for what you’re most excited for; the group Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area. But you haven’t heard from Joel at all throughout the day. And you’re starting to worry. Maybe he doesn’t actually like you, maybe he decided that after you guys got caught in the alley you weren’t worth his time. But he did say he was going tonight and you hope he keeps his word. 

You head to the hotel to change, opting for another one of your stupid fucking t-shirts, leggings and a pair of sneakers. This time your t-shirt reads; “Mothman is real and he sells me weed in the Waffle House parking lot” because why wouldn’t it? 

You pack up your camping supplies; a sleeping bag, a backpack, some snacks along with a bear canister to store them in, a canteen full of water, and a lighter. 

The sun is just starting to set now and it’s about time to go. Before you leave the hotel you decide to text Joel: 

Hey, will I see you tonight?

You wait with bated breath for a response. And to your surprise it comes rather quickly. 

Of course, Luna. Wouldn’t miss it for the world🦋

You exhale, feeling a little bit better about things between you two and head out with your friends. You drive to the McClintic Wildlife Area and park your car in the parking lot, which is decently full. But that was to be expected. What’s the point of coming to the Mothman Festival if you’re not going to try and catch a glimpse of the real thing?

You grab your stuff from the trunk of your car and set off into the forest, following the other Mothman enthusiasts until you reach a clearing where others have already set out their sleeping bags. In the middle of the ring of sleeping bags there’s a fire going, surrounded by people already drinking and socializing. Tara and Janelle spot two guys sitting by the fire and decide to head over to them. You can’t blame them, you did leave them all night last night. So you set up your sleeping bag where there’s a free spot, sit down, and wait for Joel. 

And… nothing. The sun sets and you haven’t heard from him. Tara and Janelle make eye contact with you periodically, shooting you looks that are supposed to ask, “Are you okay?” and you nod back to them, not wanting to ruin their fun. You lay down and look at the stars above you, just about to accept the fact that Joel stood you up when all of a sudden you feel your phone vibrate next to you. 

You hold up your phone in front of your face and to your surprise it’s a text from Joel reading:

Hey, I just found the most convincing piece of Mothman evidence ever. Come look. 

You sit up and look around, confusion on your face. He’s nowhere to be found. 

You type out: 

I don’t see you. Where are you?

He replies: 

Look behind you.

You turn around and look at the line of trees behind you and yet again… nowhere to be found. 

You go to type a response back but he beats you to it, saying:

I can see you. I don’t want to leave the evidence behind… Just come to the trees, Luna.

You sigh and get up, making sure to take your phone with you. Tara makes eye contact with you so you pretend you’re taking a phone call, pointing to your phone and putting it by your ear. She nods and you turn to walk towards the tree line, a nervous pit forming in your stomach. This is such a bad idea. It’s such a typical stupid girl in a horror movie trope and yet here you are, walking into a dark forest to meet a man you just met yesterday. 

You reach the trees and take a deep breath before walking into the woods, turning on your phone’s flashlight. You call out Joel’s name and don’t hear anything. Rolling your eyes, you call him on your phone, getting a little fed up now. He doesn’t pick up but you hear a ringtone in the distance. You groan and follow the sound, because if you can hear Joel’s phone but not Joel… who’s to say that Mothman is actually real and he got Joel? 

You find his phone resting on a fallen tree, the screen lit up with Incoming Call followed by your name. You pick up the phone and look around, shining the flashlight out in front of you. 

You smell something in the air… something fruity… almost like apple cider… with a hint of citrus? A golden mist hangs in the air, permeating the area around you and filling your senses. Whatever’s around you smells good and inviting. Without thinking, you take a deep breath, letting the smell and the mist calm you down. A warmth brews between your legs and your skin feels hot, at first it’s comforting… But soon enough it becomes unbearable. Sweat beads up on your forehead and the warmth between your legs grows stronger. A presence behind you is apparent; it’s daunting. Something tells you to turn around and when you do, you can’t believe your eyes. 

Towering above you is Mothman himself. You’re met with glowing red eyes, a muscular stature, large wings fanning out behind him, and threatening claws. He’s tall, anywhere from seven to eight feet tall, his monstrous eyes practically burning a hole into you. You should be terrified right now, running for your life back to your friends. Or at the very least taking some pictures. Instead you’re frozen, not in fear… but in desire. The warmth that was brewing between your legs is unignorable. 

“Joel?” you call out in a small voice. 

The creature takes a step towards you almost as if it can understand. Your skin feels like it’s burning, like if someone were to touch you the heat of your skin would also burn them. It’s like torture, one of the most agonizing sensations you’ve ever felt. Without even thinking you drop your phone and his, pulling off your shirt over your head, and instantly feeling some relief, but it’s not enough. You kick off your shoes, sliding your pants down your legs, followed by your underwear. The cool forest air hits your skin, perking up your nipples and providing you with seconds of relief, but it’s still not enough. The creature’s eyes scan your features, training up and down your naked form.

The air moves around you, and so does the gold mist. Right before your eyes the creature shapeshifts, losing its wings and claws, returning to a normal human height, turning… into Joel? And yet even still he keeps the unmistakable glowing red eyes. He looks at you with a devilish grin, stepping closer towards you. He’s completely naked, body shimmering under the pale moonlight and the flashlight on the forest floor beneath him. 

“So once again, Luna, are you a dirty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter out, your body practically calling out for him. 

He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down so you’re lying against a flat rock behind you. The coolness of the rock is a stark contrast against the heat radiating off of your body. Joel spreads your legs apart forcefully, marveling at your cunt and how it’s already dripping for him. His red eyes flash back up at you, taking note of the desperate look in your eye before feasting on your cunt. He licks your cunt in a way that can only be described as animalistic, flicking his tongue across your clit and lapping at your entrance. You writhe against the rock and Joel has to hook his arms around your thighs to keep you steady; to keep your cunt directly on his mouth. The tension in your core builds as he continues to eat you out, tongue swirling around your sex as he drinks in your juices. With one last flick of his tongue you cum against him, one of the wettest and longest orgasms you’ve ever had. The movement of your hips slows down as you come down from your high but alas… barely any relief. 

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you let out a soft whimper. His glowing eyes meet yours and he asks, “Still not enough, huh Luna?”

“No. No, it’s not. Please, Joel, I need more.”

He lets out a dark chuckle, bringing his fingers to your cunt and stroking it lightly, gathering your wetness on his large hand and rubbing it between his fingers. He pushes two fingers inside you, knowing you’re well past needing to warm up with one first. He curls them against your walls, letting his fingers get absolutely soaked. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, fast circles around it while his fingers inside you push against your g-spot. In no time you’re coming again, your cunt fluttering around his fingers rhythmically. Your release soaks his hand all the way down to his wrist and he leaves his fingers inside you, just feeling your cunt clench and relax around him. Your body feels euphoric, tingling sensations coursing through your limbs but still… it’s not enough. 

“How you feelin’, Luna?”

“I still… I still need more,” you whine. 

“Beg,” he says, hovering over you, red eyes staring directly into yours. 

“Joel, please. I need it,” you beg.

“How bad?”

“So fucking bad,” you whine, sounding completely delirious. 

“I suppose,” he teases, spreading your wetness onto his already hard cock, whose size is intimidating…

He pushes into you in one swift motion, hooking his muscular arms around your thighs and leaning forward, folding you in half. You’re face to face with him now, his non-human eyes locked onto yours. His cock stretches your walls, hitting the deepest angles inside you as he fucks you relentlessly; completely feral. You look up at him with the tree covered moon above him, completely in awe of what’s happening to you. You swear his face flashes from his human form to his Mothman form, but only for a split second. He brings his mouth to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin even harder than the night before, surely enough to leave darker marks and more gold film. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming on his cock, your cunt convulsing erratically. He fucks you through it, making it last even longer. Your own release pulls his own from him, and it’s powerful. You feel his warm cum spilling inside you, strong and like it’s never ending. You’re silently grateful you’re on birth control even though you don’t know what the effects Mothman cum will have on you. Eventually your orgasm ebbs and flows as it winds down and Joel slowly comes to a halt. He stays inside you for a moment, keeping his eyes locked on you. 

“I bet now you’re good. Completely spent, ain’t that right, Luna?”

“Mhm,” you say, still a little breathless. 

Eventually he goes soft and his eyes shift back into their usual warm brown shade. He pulls out and lies down next to you. You roll over and rest against him, his own body burning up just like yours. You’re too exhausted to even question what just happened, letting sleep quickly overtake you. 

-

You wake up the next morning alone, the sunlight peeking through the tree cover. You sit up and rub your eyes, looking around you for any sign of Joel. But he’s gone. 

You try to remember last night but it’s all foggy, like it’s a distant memory already. You vaguely remember the fruity scent and the gold mist in the air. You look down at your skin and there’s still traces of it there but not much. You pull on your clothes and grab your phone, looking at the time before rushing to get back to Tara and Janelle. They must be worried sick about you. You power walk back to the group, just trying to get there quickly but also not so panicked that they’ll think something is wrong. From what you can tell, you’re fine. Just a little dazed with a soreness in your core and a stickiness running down your legs. 

You’re back in the clearing and coming up on the collection of sleeping bags. Tara and Janelle spot you and wave, completely cheery with wide smiles. Not the response you were expecting. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d be gone that long,” you say, stopping in front of their sleeping bags. 

“Don’t be! Looks like you got lucky, too,” Tara says with a wink, looking at your disheveled state. 

“Did you guys-”

“Mhm,” Janelle says, “With those guys you saw us talking with. Did you end up finding Joel?”

“You bet I did. But didn’t spot any signs of Mothman?” you ask.  

They both shake their heads no and you sigh. 

“Guess there’s always next year,” you say, bending down to pack up your stuff; stuff that you didn’t even end up using. 

You walk back to your car after you’re all packed, feeling your phone vibrate in your bag. 

You pull it out to find a text from Joel reading:

Until next time, Luna🦋

Looks like the Mothman Festival will be an annual tradition. 

Part two

End note: Hope y'all liked that!!

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[jobean12-blog]

Dressed to Impress

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Pre/No!Outbreak)

Word Count: 3,057

Summary: You and Sarah manage to convince Joel to dress up for Halloween. He's not too excited about it but agrees anyway. However, once he see's your costume...Halloween jus tmight be his new favorite holiday.

Author's Note: This is part of my kinktober celebration and the PPCU Halloween event. Thank you bunches to Sel @jupiter-soups and Harley @huffle-punk for setting it up! 💕💕love and hugs! I took two prompts; one from fluff: You and Sarah convince Joel to dress up for Halloween. He isn't thrilled. And one from smut: You surprise Joel by dressing up for Halloween as something that he has mentioned finding sexy. For the second prompt I didn't get specific because I figured it would be more fun for the reader to imagine their own sexy costume- whatever you wear- Joel LOVES it. I also want to thank my dear friends @flordeamatista and @mrsmischief209 for helping me with Joel's costume, you're both amazing! ❤️💕Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: it's fun and fluffy, silly and soft, lots of flirting and tension, Joel is sweet but definitely grumpy, reader has some sass, semi-public f-in-g-e-ri-ng, light d-ir-t-y talk, it's a whole ride lol

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

“No.”

His hands land on his hips as he stares back at you.

“But Joel, it’ll be…”

Your words are cut off by his second, “no.”

“Joel!” you whine.

“Darlin’,” he warns.

You stick your bottom lip out in a pout and give him your best sad eyes.

“Still no,” he says.

You change tactics.

With a sweet smile you step into his space and press yourself against him.

“I know it’s not your favorite idea but don’t you want to do it for me? Make me happy?”

His hands falls from his hips and land on yours, pulling you closer.

“Now you’re playin’ dirty angel.”

Your lips curve into a wicked smile. “I can play much dirtier than this if you want.”

You lift your fingers to his hair and comb them through, lightly scratching his scalp before they slide down the back of his neck and trace his jaw.

With a light brush of your lips you whisper, “please Joel. Just this once. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You kiss him before he can answer and you feel his low growl rumble through his chest as he pushes you against the wall of the bedroom.

With rushed hands you pull at his tee shirt, tugging it up and over his head. Your fingers caress his warm skin as his lips kiss and nip at your neck.

“Joel,” you moan.

He grabs your thigh, lifting it to spread you open so he can settle between you legs.

“Now who’s playing dirty,” you gasp when you feel his hardness press into your stomach.

His hand slides higher and his fingers dip into the waistband of your leggings.

“You started it,” he murmurs.

“Is that a yes then?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady as his fingers tease your skin.

His cell phone rings before he can answer and you both let out a frustrated groan.

“One guess who’s callin’,” he grumbles.

He grabs his phone from his jeans pocket and flips it open, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Hey,” he says which you follow right after with, “hey tommy,” loud enough so he can hear it on the other end of the line.

Joel reluctantly releases you and takes a step back but his intense gaze tracks your every move while you fix your clothes.

As you start to walk out of the room you sing out, “since you didn’t say no that time, I’m going to take it as a maybe!”

Before you get out of the doorway he comes up behind you and smacks your ass, making you squeal. His arm wraps around your waist and he drags your back to his bare chest, his soft breath tickling your ear when he whispers, “a maybe.”

You can hear Tommy on the other end of the line asking what the hell is going and when you look over your shoulder Joel’s eyes are dark, his ‘maybe’ and so much more hanging in the air between you both.   

“How many times did he say no?” Sarah asks the moment you walk into the kitchen.

“Only three times,” you smile.

She blows out a raspberry and stabs her eggs with her fork.

“BUT!” you continue. “I think I’ve got him at a maybe now and if you lay it on thick we might be able to convince him.”

Sarah smiles deviously and when you hear Joel’s heavy footfalls on the stairs you both straighten your shoulders in preparation.

“Hey dad,” Sarah chimes brightly when he walks in.

You match her smile and offer him a hot cup of fresh coffee.

He looks between you both, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t even try…” he begins.

“BUT DAD,” Sarah interjects, “we all have to dress up. You can’t come trick or treating otherwise!”

“Who said I wanna go trick or treating?,” he says before sipping his coffee.

Both you and Sarah give him a stern look.

“YOU HAVE TO!” you both shout.

He sighs and sits down at the table.

“PLEASE,” Sarah says. “We can think of something awesome for you to dress up as.”

“I already have an idea,” you say, clasping your hands together in excitement. “You’ll look amazing.”

You wink at Sarah and she grins before turning pleading eyes to Joel.

You grab your plate and seat yourself on Joel’s spread thigh, curling into him and grabbing his fork to feed him a bite of eggs.

“Please,” you say softly.

Joel studies your face before he moves his eyes to Sarah.

“Fine,” he mumbles then takes the bite of eggs off the fork.

You and Sarah let out an excited cheer. Sarah hops out of her seat and comes around the table to kiss Joel’s cheek. You do the same on the other side.

He grumbles out something unintelligible but you can see the smile playing upon his lips.

“See you guys later,” Sarah says as she grabs her schoolbag and rushes toward the door.

Just before she’s out of the house she turns back and looks at Joel to say, “your tee shirt’s inside out.” Then she disappears out the door.

You giggle into your hand but quickly press your lips together to suppress any further joy when Joel pins you with a glare.

“Shit,” he says, looking down.

“Oops,” you say with feigned innocence and a shrug of your shoulders.

With a smug smile you hold up the fork again. “You have to eat more before you’re late.”

He looks up and takes the bite but then removes the fork from your hand.

“Oh I plan on it darlin’,” he simpers.

He swats at your ass until you get up and then promptly moves the dishes over and sits you on the edge of the table.

“Joel…” you breathe out as your arms wrap around his neck.

Just as his thumbs hook into your leggings you hear the loud clunk and roll of Tommy’s truck.

“Ah fuck,” Joel sighs, dropping his face to your neck.

You let out a little whimper and cling to him.

“Later,” he promises before kissing you softly.

Tommy barges in all smiles.

“Hey you two,” he greets.

Joel mumbles some form of a greeting and you go give Tommy a hug.

Tommy gives you a squeeze then looks to Joel. “What up his ass?”

“He agreed to dress up for Halloween this year,” you answer happily.

Tommy grins and walks over to Joel, slapping him on the back. “Shit brother, your girls can get you to do anything huh?”

You do a little happy victory dance as you place the dishes in the sink.

“Come on,” Joel says to Tommy, “let’s go.”

“What about my breakfast?” Tommy asks, checking the pan.

“We’ll pick you somethin’ up on the road,” Joel sighs.

You gently pat Tommy on the back. “There would have been pancakes but we’re out of mix.”

Tommy gives you a lopsided smile and then grabs the last piece of toast.

“See you later babe,” Tommy says before he heads back out to the truck.

He takes one last look at Joel, the toast dangling between his fingers as he points and says, “your tee shirt’s inside out.”

With another muttered curse Joel grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

He stalks toward you at the counter, caging you against it with his arms on either side of your body.

“You,” he whispers as he leans in and bumps his nose along yours, “are all mine when I get home.”

“Is all this gel really necessary?” he asks as you run your fingers through his hair for the hundredth time.

You stand between his spread legs and look him over, adjusting a piece of hair here and there.

“Yes. It is,” you state. “Eeeeeee Joel!”

After wiping your hands you check his bow tie, pulling on the ends to tighten it before you straighten it again.

“PERFECT! Sarah get in here!”

You grab Joel’s hand and drag him to his feet. Sarah rushes in and immediately gives out a loud ‘whoop’ before laughing.

“Dad this is so good,” she says. “You look just like Gomez!”

Joel turns to look in the mirror, his expression full of his usual grumpiness.

“Well, you’ve already got the grumpy look down perfectly,” you tease.

He just scoffs as he lifts his fingers to touch his hair.

“DON’T!” you tell him. “Just leave it!”

“You look amazing,” you tell Sarah. “Super scary.”

Sarah smiles and does a twirl to show off the full affect of her costume.

“You look great sweetheart,” Joel says before his eyes slide back to you.

“What about you darlin’? Where’s your costume?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m going to get ready now,” you say with a twinkle of your fingers. “See you downstairs.”

You pepper his face with kisses before shooing him away.

You’re just applying the finishing touches to your make-up when you hear Joel coming up the stairs.

“Angel, are you almost rea….?”

His words die on his parted lips as he takes you in, his eyes traveling hungrily from your head to your toes.

“Well?” you ask, smoothing your hands down your body.

The grind of his jaw says it all and your smile grows.

“Joel…?” you purr. “Couldn’t wait for me to come downstairs?”

He walks all the way into the room and shuts the door.

“I wanted to see what was takin’ so long…”

“Well I’m ready now,” you sing with a sweet smile. “Let’s go.”

He stops you with his body, his heat washing over you and his mouth dipping to your ear.

“You think I’m goin’ trick or treating and to some party with you lookin’ like this?”

“Like what?” you ask, your tone demure.

The air between you is charged and disappearing by the inch.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, his breathe a whisper along the shell of your ear.

You look at him through your lashes, the light scruff of his beard brushing your cheek and making you sigh out his name.

“We’re going to be late and Sarah is waiting….”

You step back and hear his sound of disapproval deep in his throat. It makes you shiver.

His eyes are glued to you as you turn and open the door and when you meet his gaze again it’s filled with heat and filthy promises.

When you enter the kitchen Sarah whistles loudly and grins. “WOW!”

You give her a bright smile and start toward the door. “Time to trick or treat!”

Once Sarah has plenty of candy you usher her off to her friends house for the night. They are having a sleepover with scary movies and lots of sugar.

As soon as Sarah is safely delivered to her new destination Joel settles his hand at your lower back and starts to push you back toward the house.

“Did you forget we have to stop by the neighbors house for the adult party?” you giggle.

He stops walking and presses himself against your back. “Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough today angel?”

“No,” you state, turning to face him. “I don’t think you’ve suffered at all in fact.”

Joel opens his mouth to argue but you press your finger to his lips.

“I’ve seen you smile and I know you love how much everyone is gushing over your costume and it won’t kill you to hang out with some friends for a couple of hours.”

He kisses your finger and then grabs your wrist to pull your hand away.

“An hour,” he growls.

“Two,” you counter.

He stares at you daringly, leaning forward and covering the inches between you, his eyes falling to your lips.

“And it’ll be your fault when I drag you somewhere dark and get my fingers inside you.”

Your breathy sigh is followed by a lick of your lips, Joel’s eyes following the movement with a hungry stare.

You don’t respond, not trusting yourself when your brain and body are consumed by him, and instead take his hand and move in the direction of the party.

“All the beer is still warm so I got you wine.”

You hold the glass out for him then search for a seat. When you see there aren’t any left you situate yourself on his thigh and rest yourself along his shoulder.

He takes a sip of the wine, eyeing you over the rim.

“Any good?” you ask.

Without an answer he curls his hand around the back of your neck and drags you down for a kiss, giving you a taste.

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “Yummy.”

You chat with some of your neighbors, snacking and sipping your drink.

“You’re pulling off the whole grumpy Gomez thing really well,” you tease when there’s a lull in conversation.

“Who said I’m grumpy?” Joel replies with a smirk.

You dance your fingers up his chest and then lightly scratch them over his beard.

“I want another kiss,” you whisper.

He happily obliges but when you press yourself closer, shifting in his lap, he groans out a curse and pulls away.

At your questioning look he sighs.

“Darlin’…unless you want to stay in this chair for the rest of the night you better stop kissing my like that and wiggling your ass.”

You move again, unintentionally, and the hardness between his legs pushes against you.

“Oh,” you squeak. “Ohhh….”

He tightens his grip, his fingers digging into your skin in warning.

“Behave.”

“I’ll be good,” you promise with a slow blink.

“That’ll be a first,” he mutters.

You kiss him again, giggling when he starts to squirm beneath you.

“Oops.”

“I’d smack your ass right here and now if it weren’t for the creepy neighbor.”

“Creepy…?” you repeat and look around.

You lock eyes with your neighbor from across the street. He’s starting, his eyes blatantly roaming over your curves.

“I’m gonna knock his teeth out,” Joel threatens with a low rumble.

“He’s definitely drunk Joel. Not worth it.”

“He’s starin’ at what’s mine.”

You take Joel’s chin between your fingers, dragging his murderous gaze away from the neighbor until he’s focused on you.  

“Come on, let’s go get some fresh air,” you whisper.

You rise from his lap and he takes your hand, keeping you close as you work your way around the crowd of people in the living room. When you reach the back door he holds it open for you and ushers you outside, walking you toward a darkened spot on the side of the house.   

He lets out a deep exhale before grabbing your waist.

“Finally,” he says, in a hushed, rumbling voice as he pulls your back against his chest.

His hand slides along your side, tracing the curve of your waist before he closes his fingers around your wrist and lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing softly along your knuckles.

“What a Gomez move,” you tease lightly even as you melt into his embrace.

His free hand brushes along your shoulder and his fingers dance along your neck until he tilts your chin back, exposing more of your skin. With teasingly soft kisses he works his way to the spot just under your ear and whispers, “lift your dress.”

“Joel,” you breathe out, your voice wavering when he nips on your earlobe.

“Angel, I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

His hands wander along your skin, kneading and squeezing as he goes. When he finds your ass cheek he grips it hard. You don’t answer, arching against him, and when he gives you a sharp smack you cry out.

“Is this my punishment?” you ask as you catch your breath.

He smacks you again, soothing the sting with soft caress.

“Lift your dress,” he repeats, his voice low and deep.

Your fingers reach down for the hem and you slowly lift the front, whimpering when his hand leaves your ass and slides across your stomach and between your legs.

“Someone might see,” you gasp even as you spread your legs for him.

“Fuck darlin’,” he groans when he feels the wet patch on your panties.

His finger brushes over the damp fabric and he wraps his other arm around your shoulders to keep you pressed to his chest, his touch torturously light.

When he pushes your panties to the side and slides his fingers through your arousal he lets out hum of satisfaction.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs.

His finger slips inside you easily, pumping slowly in and out as he continues his kisses along your neck.

“You feel beautiful, too.”

He slides a second finger into you and growls, the sound vibrating right through you.

“Joel please…please,” you beg as your legs start to shake.

His grip tightens and he pushes his fingers deeper, pressing on your clit with his thumb. You wiggle and writhe against him, chasing your release as it builds.

“Joel,” you hiss through gritted teeth, trying your best to remain quiet.

He curls his fingers just right and continues circling your clit, the tightening of your walls giving him enough warning to slide his hand over your mouth and muffle your cries as you buck against him.

You slowly come down and sag into his strong hold.

He draws out your pleasure, pumping his fingers with deliberation and whispering praises in your ear.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos. “Letting me to fuck you with my fingers even when someone might see.”

He still has his hand clamped over your mouth, softening your continued moans.

“I’m taking you home,” he states, leaving no room for argument. 

He slowly removes his fingers and releases his hold on you. You turn in his arms and watch as he slips his soaked fingers between his lips and licks them clean.

“First I’m goin’ to get a better taste and then I’m goin’ to fuck you good and hard.”

You let out a whimper of want and drag your hand down his chest, palming the hardness between his legs.

He stops you with a firm hold on your wrist and your lips part to argue but he interrupts, dipping his head and brushing his mouth across yours when he whispers, “no, not here angel. I don’t want to miss a single sound that falls past these pretty lips when I’m buried deep inside you.” 

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814

[leossmoonn]

dilf | mike schmidt

summary - mike as a dad

warnings / includes - reader is fem. otherwise fluff :D (also there’s so much background and plot like sorry not sorry lol I really like to ramble)

————

if there’s another fnaf movie… mike needs to be a dad. i know that’s not the plot at all and wouldn’t make sense, but i think the box office would benefit from that!

mike is already kind of a dad. he’s been raising abby for a few years now. he wouldn’t consider himself any type of caregiver because well, he thinks he’s quite terrible. and the term ‘brother’ is so much less daunting than ‘dad’. so when you two found out you were pregnant, he felt more fear than excitement. it wasn’t a surprise really. you two hadn’t been using condoms as regularly, but he was more stunned that now he was going to be a father and he was terrified.

regardless of how he felt, he supported you in every way possible during pregnancy. he was literally perfect. dude did the bare minimum and more! every day he would ask what you wanted to eat each day, no matter how weird the cravings were, and he would try his best to honor them. he gave you massages, went on walks with you, talked to the baby, went on doctor appointments with you — he even scheduled extra ones when you weren’t feeling well because he was so scared of you or the baby dying or something.

and after the whole freddy’s pizzeria fiasco — glad you weren’t pregnant during that lmao — he was able to get a job as a sales associate and become a manager with the help of him taking some online college courses. (you definitely helped with convincing him he was good enough to go back). abby was making new friends at her school and even helping you out when you were pregnant: making desserts for you, giving you advice on baby clothes, already making plans with the baby to play house or dress up. things were looking up.

until you give birth.

now, as we mentioned, mikey poo was a little nervous when he found out you were pregnant. and things went so well with your pregnancy, he kind of forgot to think about what it was actually going to be like when the baby was here. he was about to shit his pants fr while you were giving birth. but then they put the baby in your arms and everything just came together for him. cliché to say, i know, but it’s real!!!! and god, when he finally got to hold his baby, he was wrapped around her little finger. (i’d like to think he’s a girl dad — we already kind of see that with abby). she has mike’s big brown eyes and your cute nose. she looks exactly like a mix between the two of you.

for the first few months, mike was more focused on you than the baby. don’t get me wrong! he’s great father, but he just had that mindset that everyone wanted to take care of the baby: your parents, vanessa, even abby, but nobody was taking care of you. (doesn’t that just make your ovaries scream??) so he made it his mission to help you out with everything he could, on top of the baby, which he absolutely didn’t mind. lowk, mike is a house wife.

in the night, you two would trade shifts for the baby. there were times where he knew you were so tired from breastfeeding and just taking care of the baby during the day in general — he had to work full time still to be able to provide for you guys — that he would take full night shifts and let you sleep. it was basically like working at freddy’s so….

when you started going back to work, mike would make sure the laundry was done, house was always clean, each meal was made, abby got to one place or another. of course, he spent as much time taking care of the baby as he did with other things, but you were just under so much stress and he felt as though the best thing he could do for you was take most of the mental load. soon you became accustomed with being a mom and soon your workloads were basically evenly split.

okay enough of the background.

mike loves playing with the baby. sooo crazy, right? lol. he loves doing tummy time with her, playing peek-a-boo, talking in funny voices. he also loved picking out outfits for her, even though he actually has no sense of fashion and you quickly banned him from buying anything in the store. i think his favorite thing to do with his baby girl is making her laugh. ugh! baby laughs are so cute in general, and it just made his whole world. unlike everyone in the world, besides you and sometimes abby, no one really liked mike. well, no one gave him a chance and to be fair, he didn’t really let them. it wasn’t until he met you where we felt complete and whole and happy and not afraid of risks. and it wasn’t until the baby where he felt a true sense of purpose and he was happy with how his life turned out.

his absolute favorite sight in the world is seeing you, abby, and the baby play. the house has never been filled with as much joy as it is when y’all are playing. everyone’s giggling, teasing each other, fawning over the baby. its literally like the perfect family he never got to have :,).

he also absolutely adores you as a mom. he thinks you are the best mom ever. and of course he should think that anyways, but he believes it with his whole being. being a first time mom, you were nervous of course. but in the first month, all you did was berate yourself for not being a good mom and not knowing your baby’s needs, but with mike’s reassurance and time, you gained more and more confidence.

when the baby starts going to daycare, mike is actually terrified. he starts to look for jobs he can do at home because he’s so scared that what happened with garrett is going to happen to his baby. but with multiple background checks, questions, lowk spying, he tries to trust the daycare center you two choose.

random note before i stop talking. mike is a sleepy guy and so is the baby. the two often nap together with the baby on top of his stomach. AH. looks so cute. sometimes his hand is on her head or back, or her little fingers are wrapped around his thumb. you have countless of pictures of them in this one situation. i’d like to think mike doesn’t really sleep when the baby is on his stomach because he’s afraid she’s gonna fall or he will roll over, but he stays as calm and quiet as he can so she can rest.

[barbatusart]

DE RERUM NATURA IS FINISHED & IT'S 166 PAGES LMFAO

HEY FOLKS thanks for sticking around & coming along for the ride on this one! i havent done a fancomic in like over a decade & have been somewhat out of the Comix game for over a year, so this was a fun dive back in, & im happy i got this many pages done from 1/1 to 2/22 today lol

anyway trying to navigate tumblr is kind of a nightmare so i actually put the whole thing up on AO3 for ease of access; you can find it over at archiveofourown.org/works/53909893/chapters/136455853

also these are preliminary pages so at some point this little fable will be cropping up again in even more fabulous quality lol. who could my inker be....... we just dont know.......... (it's meanbossart lol)

what else uhhhh ill stick this up as a pdf over on itchio in a bit, we can use that as a tipjar cus WOTC says i cant charge for dnd stuff WHICH IS FAIR LOL (also i have a normal tipjar over here if anybody feels so inclined lol, paypal.me/rrrampage)

i think thats everything, i gotta go hop in the tub now lol THANKS FOR PLAYIN!

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

I got a lil idea with Otis with a s/o that likes to were a beauty headband with bunny ears to keep they hair out of there face when there drawing or relaxing 👀👀👀 feel like it would be a recipe for trouble lol

-❤️‍🔥

Rabbit

a/n: omg you have NO IDEA how much i love this!! thank you so much for this i had so too much fun writing it! <3

pairing: otis x afab!reader

warnings: smut, oral sex (m receiving), otis calls reader 'rabbit', no pronouns used but it's implied that reader has long hair

word count: 407

"What the fuck is that thing?" Otis asked, tugging at the bunny ears on your head.

"It's a headband," you simply told him, readjusting it. "It keeps the hair out of my face."

"Oh yeah? Well ain't it just convenient that they're little bunny ears," he smirked, toying with the ears again.

"Otis," you warned. "Where is this going?"

"It's going somewhere good is where it's going," he mused, crushing you under the weight of his stare.

"And what's your definition of good?"

You knew there was no way you could say no to him, and you could absolutely see where this was going, but you were more interested in seeing how long you could drag this out.

He leaned back on the bed, opening his legs slightly, an amused grin on his face as he looked down at his crotch. "Come on, rabbit, I know you want to."

"Want to what?" You teased, shifting closer to him on the bed. "I ain't doing nothing 'till you tell me."

Otis simply looked down at his crotch again, like that would somehow serve as a decent enough answer. And it did, but you weren't about to tell him that.

You swung your leg over his waist, straddling his lap, unable to hide your amusement as you leaned down to press a kiss to his neck.

"Am I getting closer?" You asked, your breath hot against his skin, your lips twisting into a smirk.

A dissatisfied sigh fell from his lips, as he dug his fingers into your thighs. "I ain't playin' no games, rabbit."

"Who said it was a game?" You questioned. "I was only askin' if I was close."

In response, he pushed his fingers harder into your thighs, making sure you knew he wasn't interested in messing around.

You sighed. "Fine, I'll suck your fuckin' dick."

You scooted down his body slightly, opening his pants, and soon enough, you had your hand wrapped around his dick.

"You know, I expect a certain level of enthusiasm when it comes to these things," Otis said. "And you don't look very enthusiastic."

You didn't bother to answer him as you wrapped your lips around his tip, his hips jerking beneath you from the sudden motion.

As you took him into your mouth, you could feel him playing with the bunny ears on your head, quiet groans falling from his lips.

"That's right," he muttered, petting your head. "That's right."

[ Main Masterlist ]

[signed-loni]

So can we have sally face chacter (by sally face characters I mean the gang: Ash, Larry, Sal) with a fem! S/O that is kinda like the fem version of rodrick from the diary of a wimpy kid like shes a rough person and in a band and etc also her style being similar to this u dont have to do it lol have a good rest of ur day and drjnk water pls :)

ARRRRRRRGGJHH I LOVE THIS STYLE SM

Anyhooooo YESS!!

Warnings: cusssing, reader is fem!

Sal 🎭

Sal is like fucking crazy for you

LOVES THAT YOUR IN A BAND

(My bfs a drummer AND LEMME TELL YOU, PEOPLE WHO ARE IN BANDS R HOT ASF)

He loves when you come over to his house and just mindlessly play ur drums while he tells you about his day/ olays hus guitar

Since your literally rodrick, your gonna be the oldest out of two sisters

Your little sister, whos in middle school, you LOVE to poke fun at.

Sal saw you making fun of her and was a bit concerned, but realized you were just playing around and was like “phew”

“Sup ugly? Y’gonna go see that loser friend of yours or what?” U say to your little sister “rachel is NOT a loser! Shes just different.” Your sister says back “whatever you say nerd.” You say and bring sal back up to your room

“Were..you being serious?” Sal asks, a bit quiet “huh? Oh,no. I love her, thats just how we show our love. She knows i dint actually mean that” you respond back, 100% honestly “oh! Ok.” Sal replies, a bit relieved

Comes to LITERALLY all of your band performances! Doesnt miss a single one and is your biggest supporter EVER.

probably owns every single piece of merch your band sells, and his room is just LITTERED with things from ur band

Your band mates can b fuckin jerks ngl

they comment on ur bfs mask and ur like “The fuck??? Uhm not to my fucking face i think tf not”

You probably beat then tf up or smth idfk

🤎Larry🍃

“so we fuckin with ur band music playin or nah?”

much like sal. Comes to every one of ur band practices and fuckin jams out to ur shit

Has all of ur guys’ music on a cd or vinyl

acc fuckin obsessed w u

likes to go on liquor store dates w u (kinda like the part in rodrick rules where him and greg go to the liquor store ykwim)

Acts offended when ur mean to him as a joke

”Babe! What the hell! I thought u loved me😞”

“Larry, listen CLOSELY, theres no fuckin way your laying a HAND on my drums. Theres just no way. I know u have cheeto fingers. Dont even think about it”

Laughs hysterically every single time u say smth “mean” to ur sisters.

but thats mostly bc hes normally high out of his mind

speaking of which, GETTING HIGH WHILE U GUYS R PLAYING UR INSTRUMENTS OR SMTH LIKE THAT. HOLY FUCK.

idk what its called, but when ur partner takes a hit and blows it into ur mouth, HOLY SHIT THATS FUCKING HOT

does that w u all the time btw

probably snuck into ur room one time to play ur drums, and right as u walked in u saw him, and literally slapped the FUCK outta him. Its was hilarious

overall loves the crap outta u and is so supportive of ur music career, always telling ppl at school or sm to listen to u guys play and gives them the address to ur guys’ next performance

best bf ever

sry i didnt add ash, lost motivation

[pumpkinbxtch]

ok ok I know this is kinda random but I am a HUGE Octavian simp for literally no reason but honestly? I trust you to see this ask and do with it what you will <3

Octavian is My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 100000000% he stole my tortured heart for no reason he's just an annoying lil guy

Can you do an Octavian x Daughter of Poseidon/Neptune!reader where they have a kinda off/on relationship? Totally ok if you don't want to though! I love your writing!

f.u.

— octavian x daughter of neptune

☆radiostar is playin': f.u. — little mix…!

warnings; angst, off-on realtionship, (more) mean octavian, language, octavian himself is a warning (lol) a/n; yep, absolutely, Octavian is annoying really, I HATE HIM but as my mother taylor said: it's the worst men i write the best. I've never said it but I love writing angst, bro someone commit me to the psychiatric. Anyway, THANKS, hope you like this. Love, María

—I swear I'm going to drown you in your sleep!— Each word made you grip the glass tighter until Octavian could hear the material creaking, on the verge of breaking. His eyes focused nervously on the glass, but all you got out of him was a defiant hum.

—Come on...— His gaze was as empty as the promises he always made, yet you felt his warm hand wrap around your wrist, forcing you to release the glass. He gently shook your hand twice until the glass fell into his free hand. You thought it was an act of consideration for your well-being until he smashed it on the floor himself.

That was him, always showing a vulnerable side only to shatter any sign of it later. He smirked mockingly.

— You’d never do that to me.— That arrogant glint in his eyes made your stomach turn.

He was a bastard.

Disgusting.

You hated him.

You were done.

But by standing still, you proved him right, and he finally let go, heading to the kitchen. His casual footsteps echoed in the dimly lit apartment, illuminated by nearly spent candles 'cause you had been waiting for hours, cooked your best, dressed nice for him, and Octavian just decided to make you wait for four hours.

When he returned, you were still in the same spot. He didn’t even bother to look at you because sweeping up the glass shards seemed more important than picking up your broken heart. He had hurt it too many times for it to matter anymore so yes, maybe the shattered glass was more urgent to clean up.

You watched him pick up the larger pieces with his hands, and then you saw it on the collar of his shirt, something small but enough to explain why he had been so late. A lipstick stain jumped out at you, mocking you.

— was that — you murmured. He sighed heavily, knowing exactly what you meant. It drove you crazy that he didn’t even try to hide it anymore.

—So? — he asked dryly, tossing the shards into a plastic bag to keep them from mixing with the regular trash. He thought that would keep you from getting hurt, how ironic.

You stayed silent, glaring at him with knitted brows. Tears of hatred started to well up, causing an effect only you could have on him, the reason you stayed in this on-again, off-again relationship: his self-pity and subsequent regret.

But even though you could make him feel something almost impossible for him, it was too weak against his ways because he still didn’t apologize; he just kept cleaning.

If you were realistic, you weren’t in a position to demand answers. The state of your relationship was as uncertain as ever, unstable. You didn’t even know what you were to each other at that moment, but you were too scared to say it out loud and break the thread. So you just sat there, watching him finish.

And as you did, you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed together or shared a good moment without fearing breaking the relationship. Where had the good times gone? You let out a sob and didn’t realize you were about to cry like a baby until that moment.

Octavian’s sickly blue eyes looked at you, but you were too deep in your sorrow to care even if he stayed or left. He sighed and sat beside you, only by taking a seat at the table did he become aware of what he had left behind: a cold lasagna, melted candles, and two empty plates. The perfect scene of something very messed up, turning a genuine act of love upside down. You were like the sun to him, illuminating him when he should have been the one doing it.

His long hands slid across the table to stroke your arm, and he began to murmur nonsense, the same things as always because that’s how he fixed things. You shook your head, hiding your face in your hands, fighting the sobs.

— Come on, baby— he insisted, and you kept shaking your head like a hurt child. — I didn’t mean to... You know you’re the only one.

You heard the chair scrape as he moved closer, one hand wrapping around your waist.

— Get out.

He shook his head, insistently kissing your shoulder and nuzzling your cheek, trying to get you to look at him like he was the stray, wounded dog.

— Please, can we talk?

— We’ve talked enough — your voice trembling, making a hollow form in his heart. He was surprised to realize he had one, and for your bad luck, it beat for you.

He leaned in and kissed your neck gently. That was dangerous, and you knew it, but you didn’t pull away.

—I was an idiot — he murmured, leaving a trail of kisses up to your jawline, where his lips tasted salty from your tears.

He moved your hands away from your face, you no longer resisting much. It was the first time he looked at your face since he arrived, and with that gaze of his, something in those cold eyes gave you enough warmth to keep looking at them. It wasn’t ideal, but it was just enough.

He tried to smile, but it came like a smirk. He kissed you, and you let him. His lips melded with yours as more tears fell, just like you had fallen again into his game.

— Things will be different — he murmured, not stopping the kisses or the hair-stroking that kept you dazed. He tightened his grip on your waist, slowly pulling you into his lap. —Things will work between us.

Empty promises with sweet affection. His hand moved to the edge of your dress, playing with the fabric near your knees. Your hand on his shoulder as you kept kissing slowly, or you might truly break.

You had lost count of how many times those words came from his mouth, how many times you had reconciled this way, but your desire for it to be true never diminished, only grew. You wanted to believe him this time, like all the times before, but he knew the truth and was too cowardly to admit it, to accept it because he had seen the future: You weren’t his, but he resisted letting you go.

No matter if it only broke you more, if you stopped being you, if he stopped being him.

You had to leave first, and what he didn’t know was that the next morning, after one last kiss, you would.

[jujutsubaby]

Hiiii! I would like have a coffee at the Heaven and Earth cafe! If possible, could I get a mocha latte with soy milk and a kouign amann on the side? Pretty please and thank you 🙏

a/n: thank you for your ask and for participating 🥹 i appreciate it sooo much and i love your order! chocolate + buttery pastries are to die for 😇

✨ WELCOME TO CAFE HEAVEN & EARTH ! ✨

🤍 PAIRING. yuta

🤍 WORD COUNT. 1.4k (sorry anon i got too carried away with this lol)

ugh, you only had 15 minutes to quickly grab your drink and a bite to eat before your 8 AM stats lecture with the notoriously strict professor kusakabe. yeah, sure you could’ve probably avoided this if you had just slept at a normal time, but alas, you were hell bent on finishing one more episode of your favorite trashy real-estate focused reality tv show. but no worries, cafe heaven & earth is known for its efficiency and speed.

that’s what you thought to yourself 8 minutes ago, when you thought you would be out of there by now. instead, right after you gave your order, you noticed the long line of people waiting for their orders. you try your best to overhear their conversations so as to better understand what was happening

“i heard there’s a disturbance in the kitchen.” “who told you that?” “i dunno, some guy with white hair came out and said it?” crap. you don’t have time for this. you frantically look at your watch, as the aforementioned white haired man came out of the kitchen nonchalantly and made an announcement. “sorry folks, there’s gonna be a delay on everyone’s orders due to a disturbance in the kitchen.”

everyone murmurs but no one says anything, but you’ve had enough. “what’s the disturbance? how long will this take? i’m in a bit of a hurry, actually.” the white haired man takes a quick glance at you and says “there’s just a disturbance. thanks.”

dumbfounded, you’re not even sure how to respond to…his lack of response? you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to figure out if it was worth just leaving right now and risking the entire class hearing your stomach rumble, or getting chewed out by professor kusakabe. your thoughts are interrupted by a soft voice from beside you.

“running late?” your head shoots up, and you find that the owner of the voice is a young man around your age wearing crisp black jeans and a high-necked white sweater. you’re slightly annoyed. you don’t really have the time to chit chat with a stranger right now. “uh, yeah, kinda.” you say curtly. you notice that he’s a little taller than you, with gentle features befitting his polite voice. his black hair falls in his large dark blue eyes in neat curtains. most notably, though, you see prominent shadows underneath his eyes. he must also be a student.

“what class?”

“stats”

“shit, stats 153? with kusakabe?” he grimaces none too subtly.

your stomach drops. great, so you are gonna get chewed out for being late. “yeah. how fucked am i if i show up late?” he pretends to think before saying “well, depends. do you like having to explain in excruciating detail to the entire hall exactly what you were doing last night that made you late for an 8am? since that’s what he made us do when i had him last year.” hell no. there’s no way in hell you’re gonna tell anyone you were up until 2am watching selling sunset.

the white-haired man re-emerges at that moment with an order that looks mercifully familiar. “soy mocha and kouign-amann for…” you approach the pickup counter in anticipation. the employee raises a doubtful eyebrow at you before reading a name off the receipt in his hand. “...yuta?” the stranger who was just speaking with you steps in front of you and grabs his order, flashing an awkward apologetic grin at you.

as if this day couldn’t get stranger. “uh, that’s my order…” you say, but you’re not so confident anymore. “sorry, i think it’s mine. been ordering this ever since this place opened.”

“i’ve been ordering that ever since this place opened,” you say defiantly. you’re not sure if this dude is playing some joke on you or what, but you definitely don’t have time for it. 

“that’s interesting, but my name’s yuta,” he continues patiently, “so unless we also have the exact same name, i’m pretty sure this is mine this time.”

a quick glance at your watch – 5 minutes left. okay, plan aborted – people are just gonna have to deal with your noisy tummy today. “okay, well…” you’re not sure how to really say goodbye to him. “forget it. i’m just gonna get outta here. i’m late as it is…” you leave without glancing behind you as you speed walk to your lecture hall and it’s not until a couple seconds later you hear someone shouting behind you.

you turn to see…yuta? from the cafe? what’s he doing following you? oh god, is he a creep?! it suddenly occurs to your sleep-deprived mind that he might want to fight after you accidentally tried to steal his order, and you speed up.

“hey, wait! stop walking faster, geez! i’m trying to help you!” confused, you slow your pace, willing to hear him out. “what do you want?” you ask, wishing it didn’t come out as harshly as it did. 

“well, i was just wondering…y’know, seeing as we apparently have the exact same order and are both about to be late to our respective classes…” yuta clears his throat. “wanna share while we walk?”

you're skeptical, but the kouign-amann was looking so delectable in his hands that you had to double check you weren’t drooling. it didn’t help that your stomach chose that exact time to elicit a god awful noise begging for food. you acquiesce. “yeah, i’d…i’d actually really like that.” you flash him a thankful smile as you both walk to class.

“so…how come you’re running late? you seem like the type who’d have it all together,” you ask, trying to break up the silence with some small talk. you look up again at his eye bags. “up late studying, i bet?”

“hardly,” yuta answers sheepishly. “this show i’m hopelessly hooked on just dropped its new season on netflix…

you burst out laughing at the image of the polite, perfect yuta falling victim to a netflix binge. “no way, me too! what show? no, let me guess. black mirror or something?”

yuta looks at his feet and mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like selling sunset. no way. feeling just a tiny bit of sadistic glee at his embarrassment, you ask him to repeat himself.

“all right, all right! it was selling sunset! i just can’t stay away…i need to know what those ladies get up to!”

maybe it’s the way he’s blushing or your sleep deprivation, but something possesses you to reach out and pat his arm comfortingly. “don’t be ashamed,” you reassure. “only the greatest of intellectual minds can handle christine’s character arc.”

yuta gapes at you, before his eyes crinkle into a soft laugh. oh…he’s kinda cute, isn’t he…

you pass the rest of the walk discussing the off-the-rails drama of the new season as you alternate taking bites of sugary-sweet pastry and sips of mocha, and you find that you’re having a good enough time that you’re not even thinking about the reaming you’re due for in stats lecture.

soon enough, you’re outside your lecture hall, and it’s time to part ways. you sigh, knowing you’re not prepared to go in 10 minutes late. “well, this is me. right before i get my ass handed to me…”

“don’t worry, he always makes the assignments way harder than the actual tests” yuta reassures you with a bright smile. damn, he’s not kinda cute. he is cute.

“yeah, but stats just isn’t my best subject,” you say dejectedly. “i’m only taking it because i need to for my major but at this point, i dunno how i’m gonna pass the class without some divine intervention or a tutor or somethin’.” you hope yuta takes the hint.

“oh, yeah, well, if you want, i can…i can help you. i quite liked the class when i took it last year,” he says bashfully.

“really?” your eyes beam at him. “here, gimme your phone, i’ll text you about a study session, if you’re down?”

“yeah, of course!” yuta is doing an awful job of hiding the blush in his cheeks as you put your contact in his phone. “i’ll definitely need help come midterms.” you hand his phone back to him. “by the way, didn’t you say you have class? shouldn’t you…” you gesture at another lecture hall nearby yours, and he nervously scoffs.

“oh, yeah, i do, but it’s the one near northside.” northside? like the-other-side-of-campus northside? you’re confused as to why he’s even here right now. “wait, what? you’re gonna be so late for class! why did you even come here?”

yuta fidgets with his fingers, doing an awful job of maintaining eye contact with you. “it’s well…i dunno, i just thought maybe being a couple minutes late so i could share my kouign-amann with a cute girl might be worth it.”

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @wanderingaldecaldo @morganlefaye79 @streetkid-named-desire @corpocyborg Thanks y'all! 🧡👻

The writing front has been very slow lately. Ideally I need like 6-8 hour blocks of time to just sit down and write, and my one day to do that has been occupied by social things and appointments the past few weeks. So writing has been minimal and in the tiniest bits and pieces. I do have a pretty solid 10 pages rn though, so I'll take it.

A lot of times for sections with a lot of dialogue, I'll write the dialogue first to make sure I really nail the flow of the conversation then go back and add all the speaker tags and actions. For this snippet I removed my mess of notes about who's saying what, so you all can have fun guessing lol!

One of my fav things to do is incorporate world-building and plot relevant details in as dialogue. It's a really seamless way of informing readers but it's also a subtle form of foreshadowing on my end.

Me and my multi-chapter setups, playin' the long game here...

Wash, sorry in advance for shit talking your woman. I think it's hilarious that Mitch is in on this too though lol

“–Militech’s been awfully agitated lately, saw a twenty vehicle caravan cruising around the 101 on that last scouting trip. Don’t think they’re planning on sniffing around here do you?” “If they were lookin’ for the panzer they would’ve come and collected by now. Think it’s the fact that Arasaka’s stocks are in the shitter. And it ain’t just them either. You know the corps, always tryin’ to sniff out opportunity.” “Yorinobu’s been doing a sloppy job of sweeping this whole debacle under the rug. Ever since he took over it’s been one mistake after another. It’s about time the whole empire toppled.”   “I imagine the president is trying to see how far she can push her luck.” "Don’t think it’ll hurt her chances? Even with it being an election year?" "Pfft, please. There hasn’t been an honest election since [insert date here]" “After her last attempt, you’d think President Myers would’ve learned her fucking lesson by now. Unification my ass.” "Well, with Arasaka hobbled and a newly elected mayor, what better time to test the waters? Militech and the NUSA have all the opening they need to jam their feet in the door." “Ugh, do we really have to talk about corp drama over dinner? Again. That is all you old farts have been talking about recently.” “Seeing as Militech backs the NUSA and that they’re contracted to guard the borders between the NUSA and the Free states. Yes, we are talking about it, Panam. As one of the leaders for this family you should be paying attention to these kinds of things. They are the ones we have to tangle with every time we move." “Yes, because politics is such an influence on all the illegal activities that are our livelihood. Does it really matter which corporation or government is in charge of what? They are all the same. We will figure it out regardless.”   "It helps to know the players on the table. Who they are. What they want. The more information you have the easier it is to navigate the situation, read the field." "As much as I see your point, I was really hoping to avoid the leadership lessons for at least one meal." "It’s not a responsibility you get to turn on and off, Panam." "Well, Saul, any chance those leadership lessons will help sort out the kitchen? It’s been mystery chili for the fifth night in a row."

Also, I found these fun series of videos which are an abbreviated history on NC! If you're into unraveling all the lore like I am or just need something that doesn't require a ton of research, these are great little primer!

Tagging with no pressure: All the people that tagged me @wanderingaldecaldo @morganlefaye79 @streetkid-named-desire @corpocyborg & @shimmer-like-agirl @baublekute @elmknight @mynonsenseistingling @vox-monstera @fly-amanitaa @spacervanguard @scarlettspectra

And it doesn't have to be writing or CP2077 related!