#none plot with left effects

[mylittleredgirl]

there are many good reasons not to see avatar but if you DO see avatar definitely see the 3D version. the entire movie is effects. same movie as the first one just underwater now. also if you are wearing 3D glasses it is less obvious that you will cry like seven times.

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he���d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

[igncrxntripley]

their secret weapon: little black dress

request: Okay so secret weapon doesn't wear black often right? What if she finally wears smth black for when they all go out and they all die? Maybe smth like the iconic black dress Maddie wears in euphoria?

tags: NSFW 18+, alcohol, exhibitionism, public touching/public sex, dom!finn, slight dom!damian, poly!judgement day, sub!reader, bottom!reader, teasing, fingering, humiliation

A/N: it was time for some TJD smut again SKJDKS also this is NOT part of the regular their secret weapon series, it’s just a one shot that is aside from the usual storyline so there won’t be much plot in this!! this is also for the finn lovers out there bc it was time he had his moment

mentions: @babybatlover​ @ripleyswhore​

Y/N was sick and tired of hearing from her partners that she didn’t wear enough black, or that she didn’t match the group. So when the group had decided they wanted to go out to a club on their weekend off, she decided it was time to give her partners what they wanted. An all black outfit consisting of a short black dress that accentuated every curve of her body, black heels, and a black purse was what Y/N went with, and she even did dark makeup on herself like Rhea’s to really give them what they wanted. 

The other four were downstairs waiting for their girl to finish. “Y/N, niñita, are you almost ready?” Dominik yelled up to their room where she was supposed to be finishing up. “We were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago.” Rhea playfully rolled her eyes and put her rings on her fingers. “I don’t know why you thought we were going to be on time.” She mumbled. “We’ve never been on time.” Before Dom could even give her an answer, the four of them turned to see Y/N walking downstairs; needless to say, every one of them was speechless at what they saw in front of them. She giggled at their reactions and gently tapped Damian’s cheek. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies, papi.” She teased and pulled on a jacket over her dress. 

Finn blinked a couple of times before he finally managed to speak up. “I…wow, baby. We just…you look so…” Y/N raised her eyebrow waiting for a response, in which Finn cleared his throat without finishing his sentence. She playfully rolled her eyes at him in her own response. “You told me to match you guys, so I did.” She said before giving each of her partners a gentle kiss on their cheeks. “We’re ready to go now?”

The fivesome left their house and went out to a nightclub, once again showing that The Judgement Day gets rowdy when they party. Y/N was shocked they didn’t run the bar dry with how many rounds of drinks and bottles they were ordering, but after a certain point none of them cared. They were all in their own little world, in a private booth at the club where each of them were touching and kissing one another without a care in the world. Rhea and Dom were on one end of the booth, cuddling and swaying to the music while Y/N sat between Finn and Damian on the other end. 

Finn couldn’t get enough of Y/N with this new look of hers; to be honest, he didn’t even think it would have that much of an effect on him. He sat behind her with his arms around her body while Damian was in front of her, the Irishman leaving kisses on her neck and shoulder as she exchanged kisses with ‘The Punisher.’ “You don’t even realize how fuckin’ crazy you make me,” Finn mumbled against her skin. “You look stunning, my love.” Y/N smiled at his words, one hand holding his while the other was holding Damian’s cheek. “I gave you what you wanted.” She teased. 

Even though the music around them was loud and the club was busy, it felt like the five of them in the booth were the only people in the world. Specifically, Y/N felt like it was just her and two of her boys giving her all of the attention she deserved. No one ever made her feel like this before she met The Judgement Day, but here she was; making out with her partners in the middle of the club, their hands dangerously close to places she’d only let them have access to. One of Finn’s hands had snaked its way to the inside of her thighs and was slowly getting closer to her panties. It made Y/N shiver with anticipation and need, so much so that she pushed her hips closer to his fingers just so he’d be able to touch. Finn chuckled once he felt her clothed pussy and immediately began to move his fingers in a circular motion. “Let me take care of you, babygirl.” He mumbled into her ear. 

Rhea and Dom had taken note from their end of the booth and began to watch. They couldn’t expect the two of them to not do anything, especially when Y/N looked the way she did. Damian took note as well and took hold of their girl’s chin to make her look up at him. “She doesn’t even understand what she does to us.” He said, turning her face to show Rhea and Dominik. “Our girl knows exactly what she did when she left the house like this.” Y/N smirked at his words and bit her lip as Finn’s fingers worked their magic. The other two smiled at Y/N and Rhea couldn’t help but let out a small moan at the sight. “Make sure there’s some left for us when we get home.” She teased. 

Y/N tightened her thighs around Finn’s hand and finger as he got her closer and closer to her breaking point. “Oh my god…” she whined softly, leaning her head back against Finn’s shoulder. He pulled her into a passionate kiss and squeezed her body tighter to his. “Cum for us, baby.” Y/N blushed and looked at him as she whined, all of a sudden very aware they were doing this in public. Finn noticed though, and that only made him work harder to get what he wanted out of her. “It’s just us. Show us you’re a good girl.” He encouraged, his thumb working her clit while his finger teased her entrance; Finn was only giving her a sneak peak of what she was going to get when they got home, he just couldn’t help but do it now. 

With Finn’s encouragement in her ear and Damian’s hands still gently wandering over her body, Y/N stiffened under their touch and reached her climax for her partners in the middle of the booth. She gasped against Finn’s lips and moved her hips against his fingers to work herself over, and she could hear all of her partners encouraging and teasing her as they watched. Her cheeks were bright red from embarrassment and stimulation, but Y/N still smiled at each of her partners while catching her breath. Dominik was the first to speak up as he finished his drink, Rhea’s hand palming him and not once leaving that spot the entire time they watched. “Please tell me it’s time to go?”

[joels6string]

Yay!!!!!! I send a challenge: smuttiness with a reader who makes Din want to break his creed:

“I want to look at your face”

❤️

Petal-Soft Reserve

Din Djarin x f!reader

Prompt: "I want to look at your face."

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.2k

Content: Established relationship, slight jealous Din, helmetless Din for the first time, p-in-v

He never meant for it to turn into this. A dependency, a need, something he could no longer go more than one job without getting a fix of. 

It was like you were waiting for him, your smile shining from behind the bar counter in the dim light of the cantina as your eyes met his visor. He took his normal seat, one that was now always left empty according to you, all the other patrons too afraid of his arrival to risk sitting in it. Good. They were right in his assuming he’d be none too pleased to see the seat next to his best girl’s normal perch occupied by vermin and filth.

“You’re back early,” you greeted after the clank of his wrist gauntlets left the air, “I’m not off for another three hours.”

“I can wait.”

And wait he did. He watched with a focused gaze whenever anyone came to order and clearly they felt it despite the inability to see his cold stare, their words brief and hands shaky. You just laughed. 

“You’re scaring away all my regulars,” you teased, grabbing the credits that had been quickly tossed onto the table.

“Good.”

“I won’t be able to pay rent.”

“Maybe you don’t have to.”

There was that look, the one you gave him when you thought he was telling a joke. Humor was never his strong point. But you were reading this situation wrong. He may not be able to tell a joke, but he wasn’t trying to.

“I’m serious,” he reiterated, and again you shook your head with a scoffing smile, turning to serve the Trandoshan that had approached.

He must have been new here, he didn’t use that same wary flick of his eyes to the Mandalorian sitting to his right, he leaned in too close, and the air was sucked from the room as the patrons watched the exchange, knowing what part came next. The reptilian claw scraped over the back of your hand and it sent rage boiling his blood, his face heating up as he watched the polite smile fall from your face and your eyes tick over to him. You didn’t need to say a word more.

“Hands off,” he instructed coolly, giving the creature one chance to obey the request.

“Or what, Mandalorian?”

All right, words wouldn’t do. A blaster was drawn and a palm shot straight through with a level of precision few were capable of, the shrieks of pain from beside him music to his ears. This wasn’t a level you liked him to stoop to, according to you there were a few between word and blaster that he could try, but he was always one to go the most effective route first.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you tore your apron off, “Let’s go home.”

The greenery surrounding your little shack also fascinated him. The array of plants and flowers that wove throughout the plot of land in front of your door pulled at his attention, he always found something new to marvel at with each frequent visit. But nothing held his attention quite like you, and nothing ever would. You were all petal-soft reserve to his nerves of steel, softening his jagged edges with your featherlight fingers and welcoming warmth that had him craving a safety he never knew he was lacking.

“I meant it,” he said when you closed the door behind him, “The Crest fits two.”

“Mando…” you cautioned, “I’m not fit for a bounty hunter’s life.”

Well, he couldn’t argue with that. You deserved to have somewhere to call a home, a place where you could display the fruits of your green thumb, to cook meals, and sleep in a soft bed covered in plush blankets that smelled like home. You couldn’t have that with him.

“Let me pay then,” he offered, and your eyes went wide.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Din. Din Djarin.”

Din… It felt foreign on his tongue, he hadn’t spoken it in years, not even to himself. Sometimes he felt like Din Djarin was dead and gone, that only Mando remained–the warrior, the fighter, the criminal–but around you he felt the rumblings of the man he once was awakening once again.

You’d closed the distance between you, your fingers grazing over the metal ridges over his cheeks longing for it to be skin, “Din Djarin. That’s a nice name.”

The sound of your voice speaking the unused moniker had him ready to fall to his knees. The way your eyes searched for any hint of the man beneath the helmet through the black of his visor always wrapped its way around his heart and throttled it, his creed seeming less and less imperative with every passing sweep of your gaze.

It began like it did every other night, his hands pulling your hips in close, your breath fogging the lower section of his visor as you panted against him, your fingers undoing his bandolier and belt. That was always the only attire of his that was removed, yet he felt so bare without its comforting weight around his waist, and you knew it. You replaced it with your arms every time, wrapping them around him and clasping at the small of his back until he’d gotten used to the foreign feeling, his fingers longing to feel the skin of your jaw and cheeks when he cupped your face as a signal he was ready.

Your clothing was always easy to remove, the heat of your planet leaving you scantily clad, something he loved and hated. As much as he loved to see the skin of your midriff free and uncovered, he knew others did, too. He didn’t like that. But he could worry about that later, for now, you were stripped before him, your eyes pleading with him to give you his fingers, and he could never refuse. 

Whines filled the small room, his arm holding you upright as his hand rubbed slow, agitating circles on your clit, your fingers digging into the small sections of his flight suit free of his beskar. 

“Din…” you mewled and that alone sent a cataclysmic ripple coursing through his veins, his own small sound of pure pleasure escaping from his lips, so you repeated it, “Din…”

“Dank farrik…” he sighed, picking you up effortlessly and carrying you to your small bed, one he’d considered sleeping in many times, but had yet to commit.

The sight of you sprawled out naked and willing for him never ceased to amaze him, but tonight you looked different, you looked…sad.

“What’s wrong, mesh’la?” he asked, your hand covering his as he palmed at your breast.

“I want to…see you,” you confessed, your fingers sliding over the armor plating on his hand, “What color are you under here?”

Always like you to deflect with a joke, your somber giggle not doing what it intended. But he could give you what you wanted, and he pulled his hand free of his glove, nervously allowing eyes to be laid on his skin for the first time in longer than he could remember. When your hooded eyes locked on the stretch of golden skin he saw nothing but awe, but that couldn’t be right. He was nothing, no one, a man in a suit that got a job done. No one looked at him.

A shudder went down his spine when your lips pressed to the tip of his middle finger, that tender contact like nothing he’d ever felt before. And Maker if he didn’t want more. Now.

The rest of his armor flew off in a whirlwind, the zipper of his flight suit open and your hands greedily dove beneath the fabric, exploring the uncharted skin of his torso, your nails scraping over the long barren wasteland of his skin, swirling over every dip and curve, gently caressing each long, raised scar. It had him trembling. You were on your knees in front of him, your gaze unable to decide to try and locate his face beneath the helm or focus on the parts of him no one had seen in decades, and he allowed you to explore, sighing in bliss and relief.

“I want to look at your face,” you finally asked, requesting his most sacred creed to be thrown away, your hands gripping the bottom edge of his headgear sanctuary, “Would you let me?”

“Yes,” he exhaled after a brief pause. Whatever spell you’d put on him had worked, and he put his hands over yours and guided them upwards, air sucking into his lungs as he held his breath in anticipation of your reaction to what lie beneath the shining silver.

You looked so different to his own eyes, so stunning if he had the ability to breathe he’d have huffed out a shocked breath, the freckles that splattered across your nose so evident without the hindrance of his visor. Maker…you were the epitome of perfection, whatever force of the universe had made you had taken its time.

He watched your face intently for signs of disappointment or disgust, he deserved it. He had no right being in the same room as you, never mind under the blessing of your fingers.

“You’re…” you sighed, shaking your head slightly, “so beautiful.”

Did his ears deceive him? They must have, not once had that word ever been used to describe him. His hair was graying, his beard never came in quite all the way, his nose was large, eyes dark. He was nothing, no one. Average at the very best. But you’d said beautiful. He swore he heard it.

“What?” he asked, he needed to hear it again.

“So beautiful, Din Djarin,” you repeated, and when your thumb swiped across his cheekbone he condemned himself to travel the galaxies alone and without a clan if it meant he could hear you say that again, “May I kiss you?”

You were asking if you could kiss him? Asking? If he knew what in the stars he was doing he’d do it himself, but he’d no doubt embarrass himself beyond redemption. So he nodded, but then your fingers wound into his hair and he wondered if maybe you’d be the thing that killed him after all. And when your lips pressed to his, soft and warm, he knew you would be. 

There was a sharp intake of breath he couldn’t control, an immediate tensing of every muscle, and every thought fell from his brain leaving it empty to process the new sensations, ones he thought he’d never feel. His hands mimicked yours, but his lips were hungrier than yours, starved, desperate. They pressed harder, repeating the motion over and over until you led him on a new path, your tongue licking at the seam of his mouth until he opened, your tongue pressing to his and coaxing them into a new battle. One he was determined to lose. 

Without breaking your kiss, he laid you back, needing to feel you in every conceivable way, and you kept him close as he lined himself up with your soaking entrance, pulsing your hips over the head of his cock as he focused on keeping it together with so much of your skin touching his. He’d fucked you before, many times, but not with your pert nipples pressed to his bare chest, or the softness of your inner thighs locked around his waist. And your kiss, he’d be dreaming of it on his deathbed.

“Fuck me, Din,” you crooned into his mouth, and he thrust inside your waiting heat in one quick movement before pausing, your wanton moan finding his naked ears and sending a shockwave through his entire body before exiting out his fingertips, “Gorgeous man.”

A time would never come where he’d tire of you saying that, of you thinking he was something worth seeing, worth knowing, worth sharing your body with. While he wanted this to last, there was no way he could. Not like this. Not with your heat soaking into his cold skin or your lips breathing new life into him as you retook them as your own. And they were yours. No other would be granted the chance to see them, to see him. 

“I can’t…” he sputtered, his hips growing erratic as they sought your wet warmth, plunging his cock deep inside of you as he sought as much of you as he could find.

“It’s okay,” you assured, just kissing him again like doing that was more than enough to get you by for the night, your hands still exploring his face as he fucked you into the mattress, the bed creaking and his sounds growing louder and feral. 

His release filled you up, oozing out as he pulled himself free, watching as the globs dripped down your folds with a new perspective. Your swollen cunt still clenching as it searched for him. 

“Stay,” you pleaded, threading your fingers with his, and he smiled before he nodded, already forgetting that without his helmet you could see the pure adoration and reverence that he’d gazed at you with since the moment he laid his eyes on you.

While he knew he should sleep, he found himself following the strands of your hair as they splayed across his chest, following the paths they etched into his skin as your breaths slowed, his arms circling you as you slept cradled in the safety of his embrace. 

Creed be damned, if this was exile then so be it. There was still honor in this.

Din Djarin Masterlist

A/N: This is actually a reworked scene from the Din Djarin series I have. So I hope it gives you something to look forward to! Haha.

[nancydrewwouldnever]

This is going to be the epic "SHOOT YOURSELF IN YOUR OWN FOOT" phase of his life and career.//

Nancy, this is a dumb question, but let's assume this is PR, and I believe it is. How did Chris and his team not see this backlash coming? And once his team threw his fans under the bus by calling them toxic, well this is what he gets.

Now, some of the GP think this is real, and I think they are losing interest because this relationship is giving them the ick.

Chris and his team need to have their “come to Jesus moment” soon if they want to salvage his career. The reaction he got from the Ghosted trailer was not good.

For some reason, they seem to be doubling down on the AB card. It's like they can't see or don't care she is not good for his image.

Look, here's the thing: take whatever you believe is the "true" nature of the relationship out of the equation. Just, leave that aside for a moment.

The "true" nature of the relationship at this point is completely moot, because since Pumpkingate this has now become a PR show. THIS IS NOW PR, BECAUSE IT HAS BECOME PR SINCE THEY DECIDED TO TREAT IT AS A SOURCE OF PUBLIC NARRATIVE. Once they decided to use it as a public image spinner, you have to focus on how this "relationship" is fulfilling that mandate.

So, is it fulfilling that mandate? The mandate of portraying what both PR teams attempted to sell, the "serious" "over a year" "never more in love" "private" couple of their publicly shared PR narrative? And, is that narrative, if being effectively conveyed, helping add value and positive attention to the participants? (Because, literally, that's all any PR is, a hopefully value-addictive narrative.)

Both questions answer no.

None of their attempts to craft the image have been successful in doing so. In fact, several have backfired and left many viewers with an oppositional view to the narrative. So, you have a failure to craft the PR correctly, in a way which resonates with intended target audience.

Then, you have the blowback of the PR failure: neither participant are seeing added value long-term from the PR campaign. Sure, she got a lift at the time of the WN season premiere/pap walk. But that was negated by her principle PR delivery vehicle (her IG) being shut down. And we saw her IG stats plummet after one day back. I do not think her Paris appearance will make an impact, but we'll see with the numbers tomorrow.

As for him - do I even need to summarize that? The consistent buying and cleaning show his team, at least, is aware that the plot has shifted against them, but they seem to have no good idea for how to get it back on course.

There's no point in arguing how people see this anymore, other than to say how they're seeing it is in no way benefiting either him nor her.

This whole thing is a big dud.

[madwheelerz]

Seeing as a lot more compelling evidence than the evidence used in the original theory has come to light, I’ve decided to redo the manifestation theory. So here we go and far warning for any potential plot twist reveals.

Overview

The manifestation theory is a theory of mine that the show operates as one huge D&D game and that a lot of the settings that we see such as characters, locations, and events aren’t real, at least not in the traditional sense. They exist in the real world, but they originated from a child’s mind. Mike’s mind.

First let’s see why Mike would’ve randomly started manifesting monsters. The simple answer is that he wouldn’t not without a reason and certainly not on purpose. What I think Mike did is that he tried to turn back time and succeeded, but with the consequence of having expended the reach of his mind a little too far and releasing beings from the mind. Mike is the DM after all so if anyone might be pulling the strings it’s him.

Let’s provide some evidence that the events aren’t actually happening first.

Do I have your attention yet? Good. What I think happened is that Will died. He was murdered in another timeline and after around a year of learning to use his powers Mike turned back the clock to the last time, he saw Will alive, the initial D&D game. This would’ve been something of a save point and is why so many important things show up in relations to that game.

At 8:15, Karen stops the game. Will dies after rolling a seven, Mike wanted twenty more minutes. The works. Will leaves and is kidnapped into the upside down. If Mike is the writer here, then Will is acting as the main character. The game is built around protecting Will except it’s hitting a point beyond Mike’s control.

The barrier between Mike’s mind and reality is weak and it keeps getting weaker the more time passes. The involvement of time travel explains Mr. Clarke bringing up that multiple world’s interpretation and the references to curiosity voyages.

Mike is highly suspicious in the way that he seems to be constantly framed over dialogue suggesting a connection to other worlds and the “Vale of Shadows”, which is what the kids were originally calling the upside-down.

There is also the way Mike sometimes knows stuff and is completely unable to explain how.

So, none of this is real. We’re in a kid’s game and Mike is the DM. This I think is the reason that the three playlist left belong to Will, Billy – literally the other William, and Mike. Mike’s playlist description is also referring to a 5-hour (season?) D&D session despite the fact that none of Mike’s campaigns are that short nor does his playlist actually last for that long.

So, Mike dies = the upside down dies or something to that effect. The Hawkins National Lab isn’t real, but wasn’t one of their main goal to discover time travel?

Weren’t they pushing so hard that they released monsters onto the world. No one from the lab would’ve seen Will prior to his kidnapping to the upside-down, at least not in enough detail to recreate it quite that perfectly, but Mike saw him. They spoke, Mike was acting weird, Will told Mike that the Demogorgon got him. Why do I think the lab isn’t real well…

This is the very first DM book that Mike has. We get a nice shot of it right before Dustin starts to read about the “Vale of Shadows”. As he’s reading, we see Hopper traveling through the interior of HNL. This is also Mike’s first campaign book, so it makes an appearance twice, which is interesting simply because the DM books don’t seem to appear twice, but especially not in the same season.

When Mike narrates from it is connected with the guy in the lab running from a Demogorgon. It’s also interesting to note that the book is the only DM book that we can clearly see has the design of a building on it. So a building design connected with the interior of the lab. It also carries a small drawing of the cardinal directions right above the building and considering that later Dustin is using a compass to lead them to the lab that’s pretty interesting.

This and the fact that Mike’s D&D campaigns take place in the basement and most gates only open in a basement of some sorts. For example, the HNL basement and the starcourt basement, but also the Mindflayer’s main operation being in the basement of steelworks. Basements, basements everywhere.

Why do I think that Mike might’ve turned back time first?

This and the way that Mike is constantly associated with running out of time. With that I’ll leave you to it, but if you decide to watch the show with this interpretation fair warning it gets trippy.

[milfandh0ney]

Hallo! Allie.

I hope you are doing okay :)

I wanted to put in a request for Blanche & Emma from the ladies 2022 short film (basically what happened the night before or something along those lines. Any rating you see fit) but since it’s not on your masterlist I totally understand if you wouldn’t be up for it. I thought then maybe it would be better to request a Melissa x Reader inspired by the plot…if that would be something that floats your boat XD. I hope you have a good day!

I’m for the Ladies (nsfw)

Pairing: Blanche x reader (Emma)

Summary: Emma finds Blanche at the pool bar trying to make a Tinder profile and offers to help

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, orgasm delay/denial, praise kink

Notes: I haven’t had a tinder for like 6 years so I’m sorry if I forgot how to use it okay just pretend. I have so many versions of how this could have gone in my head I might need to write more!!

The bartender shoots Blanche a look when she makes slurping sounds while trying to suck up the last of her piña colada through her straw. She gives him a dirty look back before turning her focus back to her phone. A man holding a fish? Swipe left. A man with a dead deer? Swipe left. The bartender? Swipe left. A couple looking for ‘their unicorn’? Blech. Swipe left.

Sighing, Blanche switches to check on her matches. Still none. What is she doing wrong? Sure, she has high standards, but that’s just a side effect from being divorced twice over. She prefers to look at it as knowing what she doesn’t want. And apparently, she doesn’t want anyone within a fifteen mile radius. Figures.

Blanche is about to call the bartender over when someone catches his attention first. “Can I get a margarita with whatever your well is? Thank you,” a familiar voice asks with a smile. You sit down on the barstool next to her. “Oh, Blanche. What are you doing here?” If you’re startled by her presence, you don’t show it.

The older woman pushes her sunglasses up her head and unceremoniously drops her phone onto the bar counter. “I assume the same thing as you?” She snorts softly.

You nod in agreement and smile politely at the bartender as he drops off your drink. “I know what you mean. Josh has been getting on my nerves and grandma just lets him.” Blanche understands. After Pearl’s husband died, her grandkids have been staying with her to help pack away Arthur’s things. You and Josh are notorious for not getting along and the house has gotten loud with your bickering lately. Neither of you want to be there.

Blanche herself had left Pearl’s and gone to the community pool’s bar because it isn’t a great move to be swiping through Tinder in the home of a woman that just lost her husband two weeks prior. You glance down at her phone screen, recognizing the logo. “Tinder, huh? Any luck?” You ask with a gesture towards the device.

Blanche sighs in exasperation. “No, nothing. What’s wrong with me?” She buries her head in her arms, her forehead against the counter. If she were more sober, she would think twice about telling Pearl’s grandkid about her sex life, but then again you are an adult.

You smile softly with a laugh. “Apparently no one around here has good taste.” Blanche turns her head towards you and opens an eye. “Mind if I take a look? I might be able to help, give you some feedback from a fresh perspective.”

“You would do that?” She watches you warily for a second but decides it can’t get any worse. Blanche passes you her phone. You’re young and cute, you probably know the ins and outs of online dating anyway.

Your hands brush for a moment when you take the phone from her, sending a warmth up Blanche’s arm. For a few minutes, you look at all of her settings as well as her profile. “It’s a good picture,” you don’t take your eyes off the screen. “You’re beautiful, Blanche.”

She sits back up and watches as you scroll through her profile. “You don’t need to say that just because I’m your grandma’s friend, you know.” Blanche doesn’t need some young girl complimenting her when it doesn’t mean anything. And she really shouldn’t be getting flustered by Pearl's grandkid for god's sake.

But you’re not privy to Blanche’s inner turmoil. You look up to smile at her again. “Oh I’m not, I’m serious. You look really good.” She raises her eyebrows at you. “The problem is, you only have one?”

Blanche frowns. “You can have more than one?” Maybe she really does need your help. Being in her fifties, she isn’t exactly a master at technology anymore.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Blanche,” you wince apologetically, “but this needs a complete overhaul.” The phone thumps against the countertop as you set it back down. “I’m willing to help, if you want it,” you offer. “It’ll keep me out of the house.”

Well, she wasn’t going to find someone to hookup with by tonight anyway. Blanche nods and grabs her bag from the counter beside her. “Let’s go somewhere more private.” She pointedly looks at the bartender who pretends to not be listening although he’s wiped the same portion of the bar for five minutes straight.

Blanche walks you to her home while you carry your scooter with you. She laughs quietly beside you as you make small talk, mostly embarrassing stories of Josh. The older woman is surprised by how funny and well-spoken you are. You’ve really grown up from the lanky and awkward preteen you were when she met you.

She remembers the first summer you stayed with Pearl and Arthur. For some reason, you followed her around like a lost puppy. Blanche brings it up to you, joking she must’ve been your first crush. It’s supposed to be a joke but it’s true. “You were,” you shrug. “Who wouldn’t crush on you, though?” Blanche’s throat goes dry and she tries to hide her reaction by unlocking her door.

She’s going to need another drink if she’s going to survive this. Blanche heads to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of wine. “You want a glass, Em?” At your nod, she fills up two glasses and carries them to the couch where you sit waiting for her.

The couch dips beside you as she sits, ready to improve her dating profile. You smile in thanks for the glass of wine she hands you and take a sip before setting it down on a coaster. “So,” you start, “you didn’t fill out any of the profile questions.” You tilt the phone in her direction so she can see answers she left blank. “First, are you interested in men, women, or both?”

Blanche snorts, thinking of the types of people she’s seen on the app so far. “Both, but set it to women. I don’t want to see any more pictures of dead animals.” Your eyes widen in surprise—you had always assumed she was straight, never seeing any indication otherwise. “What?” She asks, slightly offended. “I’m for the ladies too.”

Without further comment, you turn back to the phone and input her answer. “Okay, next. You didn’t add your age?” Blanche blanches. She’s aware that she’s several decades older than you, but she didn’t need to be reminded in this moment with you sitting so close and looking at her with those doe eyes.

She grimaces. “I don’t think adding my age would help my issue. No one is interested in me already, they definitely don’t need another reason to swipe left.” She plays it off as a joke, but she thinks it might be better to let people stay curious. This is the longest dry spell she’s had and she’s certain it’s because she’s gotten older.

You lay a comforting hand on her bare thigh, her coverup not doing much covering in this position. “Blanche, if you’re looking for women, you’re severely underestimating the power you have over young girls. Any one of us would let a woman like you do anything you want to us.” She pauses, her breathing stopping at the implication of your words. Were you flirting with her? Maybe inviting you over was a bad idea. Or the wine. Or the way she’s letting you touch her.

You take her hesitation as embarrassment and try to comfort her. “I’ll let you type it in if you want, but it has to be in there for them to show your profile to people that will be interested—,”

“Fifty nine,” she blurts, ripping the bandaid off.

Your brows furrow. “Actually? I thought at most fifty.” Blanche feels your gaze travel up her body, appreciating her curves and stopping at her cleavage. She knows what she has but the way you appreciate her makes her feel heat rise in her body.

Blanche gently clears her throat. Watching your eyes grow darker and your tongue dart out to wet your lips isn’t helping to dampen the sparks of desire you’re lighting. Your head snaps up to look at her instead of her chest, a slight blush coloring your cheeks. Blanche realizes she could have you if she wanted. All it would take to get you into bed is a flirty comment and a well-placed hand. She won’t make a move, though—Pearl means too much to her to go around and fuck her granddaughter behind her back while she’s grieving. It would be wrong.

Her decision doesn’t stop you from wanting her, though. “Do you have more pictures for the profile?” The question itself is innocent, but a peek at her camera roll isn’t something you would mind seeing. You swipe up to the home page to look for her photos app.

Blanche’s hand grabs your wrist. “Uh, no. I don’t have any other good pictures.” She knows what kind of pictures she has on her phone and she’s not sure they’re flattering enough for you to see, let alone anyone on tinder.

Your smile is as understanding as ever. “Okay. Do you want to take some? I know for me if I see a profile with only one picture I assume it’s a catfish.”

Blanche almost spits out her wine. “A what? I don’t have any photos with a fish.” She’s kinda offended you think she would. Maybe she was wrong about you flirting.

Your laugh is full-bellied and your eyes crinkle, but Blanche doesn’t feel that it’s at her which is nice. You’re cute when you laugh. “No, it means someone pretending to be a different person.” You stand and hold your hand out to her. “Come on, let’s take some. I took a photography course in college so I can help.”

Blanche downs her glass of wine and brings the bottle, her other hand in yours. You lead her to her bedroom and she’s surprised you remember where it is. She’s about to protest—she doesn’t need those kinds of photos to get a date, does she?—when you open her closet door and begin rifling through her things. Oh.

A pile of clothes builds up on the bed where you throw some pieces you think will do the trick. “What about this blazer? Chic and not too formal,” you suggest.

Blanche eyes the article of clothing and frowns. “Really? It’s not too…business-y?” She takes it from you to inspect.

“Women love women wearing business clothing. Besides,” you shrug. “I didn’t say you needed something underneath.” She blinks in indecision, but you would know the audience best because it…is you, basically. She removes her top to reveal a black lacy bra and shrugs on the blazer.

“Look okay?” She checks, adjusting the way it lays on her shoulders.

“Uh, yeah. More than okay, actually.” Blanche thinks she notices your eyes linger a little longer than socially acceptable and it helps grow her confidence. She still isn’t going to touch you, though. “Here,” you pose her so that her hair falls nicely and a tasteful amount of cleavage is shown. “Perfect,” you smile.

Blanche might even feel beautiful from the way you move around her to take pictures at various angles and in a multitude of poses. Your hands are soft where your fingertips gently touch her face to change her position and Blanche can’t mistake her attraction to you for anything else anymore. It's a full-fledged desire. She thinks your eyes are bright and your lips are so close like this. It would be so easy…

You back away and she clears her throat. “Would you want me to take some of you too? Give your own profile a refresh?” Blanche inwardly curses herself for how eager she sounds and prepares herself for the inevitable dismissal, but she’s pleasantly surprised when you agree.

She’s even more surprised when you let your button up fall to the floor and pull your shirt up and over your head. Her mouth goes dry seeing you in your own lacy black bra. You’re definitely not that same little twelve year old that gave her puppy dog eyes all summer and you’re not shy about your body. Really, you have no reason to be. She thinks she’d like to run her hands along the smooth skin of your stomach. But she won’t make a move on you.

Clothes from the pile on the bed are flung onto the floor as you search through them for an acceptable top to wear. “Emma, just sit down and let me take some pictures of you,” Blanche commands. She isn’t sure she could handle seeing the girl in her clothes but her mouth dries at the image of you half naked on her bed, though she can’t seem to regret it.

The older woman snaps a few photos of you with her phone, taking note of how full and soft your lips are as well as all your skin on display. Her mouth goes dry and she considers pushing you down and climbing on top of you when Pearl texts. She shakes herself out of it, remembering why anything more with you would be the worst idea she’s ever had. Right after her second husband of course.

“Pearl wants a picture of those waters she likes. Hand me that one on the nightstand will you?” She holds out her hand for it, but it falls back to her side as she watches you crawl forward on her bed to grab it.

Instead of handing it to her, you fall backwards onto her bed and pose for a picture with the water bottle. And, well, Blanche wouldn’t hate pictures of you looking like this on her phone. She snaps a few before you pull her down onto the bed. “Take some of us,” you request softly. Blanche sees the want in your eyes and she knows it’s a terrible idea but she’s kinda tipsy and you’re looking at her so cute and wantonly that she drops her head into your lap.

She allows herself to cuddle up to you for some pictures before Pearl texts again, reminding her to send the picture of the waters. “Will you send me the ones of us too?” You ask. “We look cute together.”

Blanche has to admit, you have a point, and she sends the pictures before locking her phone and throwing it somewhere on the bed. You watch her movements as she lays down next to you again, your hands itching to touch her. “Stop looking at me like that,” she smirks and eyes you. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

The glimmer in your eyes is her only warning before you’re straddling her waist. “What if I didn’t stop? What if I…asked you to kiss me instead?” Blanche wants to act like she isn’t affected but the slight roll of your hips as you adjust your position does her in. What Pearl doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She hooks a pointer finger under your bra between your breasts and pulls you down. Your lips taste like wine and the watermelon flavored water and she knows she’ll think of this moment whenever she drinks any of it.

Blanche’s tongue slides into your mouth and you can’t help rolling your hips into hers on purpose this time. She kisses you like she wants to do more and she knows you want it too. Her hands travel up your thighs and around to your back to unhook your bra. It falls to the bed once you untangle your arms from it. “Shit,” you gasp as her warm hands cup and pinch at your breasts.

Blanche chuckles into your open mouth. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispers. Shouldn’t but absolutely wants to be. A pretty young thing asking for a kiss and undressing for her, practically begging her to take you, she can’t resist. It’s cute, how much you want her. “Take these off,” she snaps the hem of your shorts against your skin.

You’ve never moved so fast in your entire life, like you have to obey before she changes her mind. She gently guides you back to straddling her and tangles a hand in your hair to bring you into her lips. Blanche dominates the kiss—if she’s going to have you she’s going to be thorough and she’s going to take you exactly how she wants. If she’s going to do something she knows is wrong she may as well make it worth it for both of you.

She feels her stomach grow wet from your insistent hips and she groans into your mouth. Then you’re being urged up her body until your core is hovering above her mouth. “That’s it, good girl,” she praises your obedience. Her hands on your hips pull you down to her face until her tongue can reach your dripping folds.

“Blanche,” you call out her name in a strangled gasp, already trying to ride her face. She knows how long you’ve been fantasizing about this and she wants you squirming and begging so you’ll never forget it.

She uses long, flat strokes of her tongue from your hole to your clit, giving you just high pressure to feel good but not enough to satiate your need. Your hips won’t stop bucking against the older woman’s mouth, desperate for more pleasure. Her tongue works against you faster and harder, giving you more and more. Blanche slaps your ass and moans into you while she guides your hips into moving faster against her face.

Your hips stutter more the closer you get to your release. “Please, Blanche, can I cum?” On top of her, your eyes are squeezed shut and your hands are fisted in her hair, preparing to fall over the edge.

It’s completely unexpected when she pushes you off of her and onto your back. “After all that flirting and tempting me? You’re not getting off that easy.” Blanche lowers her face between your legs and rubs her tongue through your folds, slow and sloppy. She wants to hear how badly you want her. “How much do you want to cum for me?”

“So bad. Pleasepleaseplease,” you beg without hesitation. She swiftly thrusts two of her fingers inside your drenched cunt and you’re worried you’re going to tear the sheets from gripping them so tightly. Blanche pumps her fingers inside you deep and fast while her tongue flicks over your clit. The vision of your grandmother’s friend with her face buried in your pussy makes your head swim. “Please let me cum, please,” you whine.

Blanche laughs into your cunt. “That’s it, cum around my fingers while I eat this pretty pussy.” Almost immediately, you start shaking and writhing in her bed, whimpering out expletives as she sucks on your clit through your high.

After a few breaths, you pull Blanche up to switch places. She looks fucked out already—glassy eyes, messy hair, lipstick smeared. As soon as her bottoms are off, you’re diving in to taste her. Blanche moans at your eagerness, already close from touching you. She has a pretty little girl between her legs, your tongue pumping into her entrance, desperate to have her cum in your mouth.

As you bob your head forward and backward, you bring your fingertips to her clit and rub her slickness over it. Blanche doesn’t think anyone has ever been this excited to pleasure her in her life. “More,” she says and you do as you’re told, plunging your tongue in and out of her like your life depends on it. “That’s it, Em,” she groans.

It doesn’t even phase you when her thighs clamp around your head, trapping you and pressing you into her folds. Although your lungs burn with a need for a breath, you don’t slow the pace of your tongue or fingers until she cums and her legs drip back open.

Wiping the moisture from your face, you look at her in silent question. “It’s late, you’re staying tonight. Besides, I’m not done with you yet,” Blanche answers. She lays you down on your stomach, ready to have you again.

x

[fought-the-world-and-won]

Regarding Antlers (Spoilers for NOPE [2022])

Working on a video essay for 'Nope' and I ended up ranting on Discord about Antlers, so I'm gonna post it here, unedited for the Full Effect™️ of the brain damage Mr. Jordan Peele has inflicted on my churning little brain:

ALSO. antlers. antlers is such an interesting character because he comes off as like. the apathetic, jaded remains of someone who is a hollywood legend, who never wanted to be a hollywood legend, who just. now has to live with that because that's just how it is.

and on the surface? yeah! that's antlers holst. but frankly there's more to him than just. grizzled jaded cinematographer who was going to fuck everything up for everyone because he's a selfish artistic prick.

to make a long comparison short he's like o.j. down to earth (heh), no-nonsense, straightfoward type of guy who knows what to do within his field of expertise and only wants to do his job and be left alone to do that job

unfortunately, because he is someone that can be commodified by hollywood (cinematographer), unlike o.j. who can't (animal-wrangler), he's stuck in the claws of the fame machine even though he doesn't want to be.

a big thing i noticed on my rewatch was the purple people eater scene. at first, it comes off as threatening and ominous, like a warning; and then you put it in perspective of who the fuck he's actually talking to. these 'kids' (grown adults but antlers is old n therefore probably refers to anyone younger than him as 'kids') have already been through the worst of it. all that's left to do it pull it off. think about it in perspective of the lyrics, specifically the verse he chose to recite:

'tree' of course. not being an obvious tree but rather being a reference to the mountains jj resides in; but the specific one is the "i wouldn't eat you / 'cause you're too tough" because. because they're quite literally the protagonists. they are too tough to eat because of plot armor. this was quite literally antlers' strange artistic way of saying how much he believes in them because he sees them as 'too tough' for jean jacket to eat. they'll outsmart it. they'll outpace it. n by god they'll get the impossible shot.

also extremely important to me that antlers a) predicts his own death and b) always stands away from the group, which can symbolize both him being an outsider AND his foreshadowed death. i also think it's very important to mention (because so many people have been so quick to write it off as 'selfish' or 'stupid') how antlers dies.

if you watch the scene before the run, antlers takes. some sort of cocktail of medication while angel watches both vaguely concerned and confused but ultimately chooses not to say anything because frankly. well frankly it's none of his business whatever they've got shit to do.

now they get the shot! they get the shot, everyone's celebrating, overjoyed they got it! except antlers. antlers comments on the light, how it's going to be magic soon.

remember he joined this operation late; to him, he hadn't done enough to fully like. constitute his contribution (despite bringing the equipment that actually allowed this come to fruition but to him that isn't enough. it's not enough. he has to get the impossible shot. the shot that will finally, finally prove to himself that he is, in fact, the artistic genius hollywood claims he is. but instead of getting it right there, with angel and the equipment near by, he chooses to walk away, to distance himself from angel, the equipment, and essentially the rest of the group. why? he didn't want to put them in danger.

what he was about to do was essentially suicide! fuck he even leaves angel with a warning before he goes: "Don't worry Angel, it's gonna be alright. We don't deserve the impossible."

|now a lot of people have imposed this 'we' as antlers referring to the group, but frankly? i 100% he was talking about himself and hollywood as a whole. they don't deserve the impossible; they'd just squander it. these kids? these kids do. these kids have put their asses on the line far more than any big wig hollywood anybody has in his lifetime; they deserve the impossible.

granted, if he'd been less cryptic, angel's stupid ass probably wouldn't have followed him up and nearly gotten himself killed by that's neither here nor there at this point tbh THE POINT IS. antlers knew exactly what he was doing (give or take on account of The Meds:tm:) and wasn't going to let those kids get hurt for him to do so because, at the end of the day, it wasn't them who had anything to prove to hollywood; it was him.

tl;dr antlers is a weird cryptic old man who might've been on a lot of drugs but his heart was (kinda) in the right place

[eyelessfaces]

delightful mornings

llewyn davis x reader

summary: what's better than starting the day by llewyn taking care of you as soon as you wake up?

warnings: smut, literally just smut the plot is barely even there, handjob, teasing, edging, implied oral (reader receiving)

tags: gn!afab!reader, no pronouns just anatomy, reader has boobs, llewyn is an absolute menace, llewyn gets none lol sorry baby

word count: 0.8k

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

Llewyn hums and kisses your neck softly in an attempt to wake you up, unaware that you're already awake. You open your eyes leisurely and the sun is peeking through the thin curtains, bathing the bedroom in a nice lighting. You think the scene would look perfect on a painting.

Llewyn plants small kisses to your bare shoulder, running his hand along your arm, and his beard gently scratches your shoulder blade, making you giggle at the feeling. You're exposed now, so you turn to him and smile softly. You lean in to place a quick kiss on his lips.

"How long were you gonna make me keep me going?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow behind the curls falling over his forehead.

You grin at him and brush the hair away from his face.

"As long as needed to see how far you would go" you say biting down at your lip, stroking his cheek and beard with the back of your fingers.

He chuckles softly, and his hand shifts from your arm to your belly, and goes up to cup your breast. You gasp softly at the sudden feeling, and you see him grin mischeviously as he carefully draws his thumb to trace up and down your nipple. Your naked body shivers, and you know for a fact that it's not from the lack of clothes.

"Unfair" you whisper, turning your face away as he continues to gently brush his finger against your skin.

"This is what you get for making a fool of me." he murmurs in the shell of your ear, before leaving a kiss at your jawline.

You whimper softly at his touch and teasing, but slowly shift your ass back, wanting him to get a taste of his own game. The events of the night before had left the both of you bottomless, and it was the best occasion to take advantage of the situation. You gradually move back to meet his cock, but silently gasp when his strong, cold hand blocks your ass.

He tuts softly. "I know what you're tryna do" he breathes under your ear, squeezing on the thick flesh of your buttcheek. His hand shifts to the inside of your thigh, and he delicately rubs the skin there. "You're not playing nice baby" he whispers before leaving a trail of kisses up and down your neck.

He lingers there, softly nibbling on your skin, while his hand meets your soaking core. You moan as he slides a finger through your folds to meet your clit, and he slowly starts rubbing small circles over it. You instantly let out a weak whine, burying your face in your pillow. His guitarist hands were well trained, and he knew how fast they could make you fall apart. And he was a smug bastard about it.

His movements accelerate, and you can't help but breathe out his name as he works you up. You can feel his beard graze against your skin, knowing that he's smirking, so proud of how he's making you feel. His chest is pressed against your back and he nuzzles your neck, burying his face here, focused on his movements and on your soft whimpers.

"Llewyn- please" you whine as your body jolts softly.

"What, baby?" he asks naively, pretending to be unaware of the effect his fingers had on you.

"I- I'm gonna cum if- if you keep it at this- at this pace" you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut as you could feel your orgasm building so fast.

"So soon?" he asks with taunt poisoning his voice, completely stopping any action, his hand moving away from your crotch.

Your face drops at the sudden lack of pressure against your clit, and you turn to lay on your back fully, speechless. You blink a few times, the feeling of your building orgasm leaving progressively.

"You didn't..." you mutter under your breath, trying to catch it. You whine loudly at the absence of his touch, and he is just there besides you, propped on his elbow, smugly smiling about leaving you on the edge.

He is the one not playing nice.

You desperately bring a hand to your forehead, slowly coming back to your senses and you nudge his chest in frustration.

"Ouch!" he exclaims, bringing his hand where you hit him.

"We're not even close to being even" you mutter, genuinely mad at him for leaving you like that.

"Sorry" he smiles softly, placing himself over your body before holding your face to tenderly kiss your lips. You whine against his mouth in frustration, and his lips trail down to your neck, sternum, and finally stop at your stomach, leaving delicate kisses on your hot skin. His thick and disheveled curls softly tickle your breasts and you sigh as you unwillingly decide to still run your hand through his hair after all.

He looks up at you and grins as he gently caresses either sides of your hips with his thumbs before shifting lower and diving his pretty face in between your thighs.

He was a cocky bastard, but you loved when your day started this way.

---

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

[glorified-red]

Hi! I'd like to request a fic where Y/n and Tim are good friends and everyone knows she has a crush on him, even Tim knows, and she's always trying to woo him and flirts with him frequently (but not to the point where he's uncomfortable) but Tim politely refuses every time because he doesn't like her in that way and Y/n respects it but keeps trying, saying to herself that she'll stop if Tim ever falls in love with someone else.

Then, Stephanie shows up and she and Tim bond together and basically act really close and Y/n's a bit jealous but she brushes it off, slightly upset that she hasn't had much time to spend with Tim anymore. Y/n then visits the Wayne manor because everyone's hanging out there and she tries to get Tim's attention and she sees him kiss Steph's cheek (-platonically, and it could be because she's leaving or something), but it looked like they were kissing from her view, and immediately assumes that they are together. One of the Batboys (you can pick who) who is Y/n's best friend drags her out of the room before anyone else notices her crying and explains to her that Steph is Tim's ex and says that "Steph has always been Tim's one and only" before Y/n even met them and he comforts her while she cries.

Y/n avoids Tim and their friend group for a few days and during that time the Batboy who is her best friend gets mad at Tim because Y/n obviously loves him and he keeps taking her for granted and Tim realizes he likes her as well and comes up with a plan to get her back.

When Y/n joins in hanging out with Tim and the others again, she's surprised because this time Tim is the one who is complimenting her and giving all his attention on her. One time when they're hanging out alone together she finally confronts Tim about his behavior and asks if he's just doing this out of pity on her. Tim instantly denies that and confesses that he likes her as well and apologizes that he took her for granted, saying that it's been hell being without Y/n. After some reasurance from Tim that he isn't messing around with her (and maybe some crying-), they finally get together.

Hey love! Thank you so much for the request! I took some creative liberties with this request to fit it more into Tim's character, hope you don't mind ;)

Miscommunications and Jealousy

summary: You fell in love with your best friend, Tim Drake. After several failed flirting attempts, Tim rejects you. From the looks of things, it seems like Tim has rekindled his bond with Steph and left you in the dust. Who would've thought this was all one big misunderstanding? Damian, Damian did.

word count: 4,340~ warnings: none This fic almost stole the crown for being my longest fic here on Tumblr, I did not expect this to be so long but I don't regret it. This fic was honestly just an excuse to write body language & flirting. Special thanks to @uni-magi-nation for teaching me how to play footsies properly so I could write about it. And @offendedfishnoises for brainstorming the plot to this ages ago.

Vibrant smiles and booming laughter shot through the Manor as you led Tim through the long hallways. Socked feet slid into walls and bumped into furniture edges, chasing each other in tandem. Soft squeals left your lips as Tim caught up to you, your game of tag coming to an end as he cornered you up against a wall. 

“Caught you,” he said, breathlessly in front of you, his hands on either side of your body, effectively caging you in. 

You met his eyes, a fast breath being shared between you. Your eyes wandered to his lips and back up to his eyes once more. 

You spoke softly, no need to raise your voice when he was a breath away. “Are you always this fun and exciting?” 

The moment you shared was sparking at the edges, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered against the electricity. Your words were laced with hidden desire, hoping Tim caught your eyes wandering and the double meaning in your words. 

But of course, when he pushed off the wall and awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets, the butterflies withered inside your stomach, the buzz frying their wings. Tim laughed, taking your words as a compliment. 

“I try to be.” He bounced as he spoke, his feet turning outwards away from you, “Now, let’s see if you can catch me.” 

An opportunity arose, you couldn’t help but follow it. So you chased Tim all through the night, even when you tagged him, the chase for his love still ensued. 

⋘⋙

You handed your laptop over to Tim, huffing as you sat down next to him. 

“What's wrong with it now?” he asked, opening the laptop up and signing in, already knowing your password from the countless times you two have worked silently beside each other, doing work on your laptops in silent company. 

Resting your cheek against your hand, you grumbled, “It won’t let me open my internet browsers anymore, every time I try to it completely shuts down the browser.”

Tim hummed, clicking on the browser in curiosity only for the laptop screen to freeze. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms to think. “Did you try restarting it?”

You glared into the side of his skull, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously.” 

He smiled and you felt the fluttering in your lungs again. “Just checking.”

He made quick work of opening up the settings of the laptop and finding his way into the browser files. You watched him work silently, admiring the concentration that set into his eyes and the way his hands typed lines of code effortlessly into the backbone of your laptop. 

Your eyes scanned his features, your own softening in adoration. Tim felt the prickle of your eyes watching him, he caught your gaze and smiled sheepishly. 

“Sorry it’s taking so long, I'll be done soon.” 

You stuttered, head falling out of your hand to wave your hands repeatedly. “You’re fine! Take your time.” 

You promptly turned your head away from him to hide your flush from being caught staring.

⋘⋙

Another pesky deadline and you found yourself at another cafe with Tim, laptops filling the space between you two. The white noise of steamers and names being called out filled your ears, a steady stream of stimulation to keep yourself focused on your work. 

His shoe bumped against yours under the table, tucking itself under yours to bounce your foot with his. A small gesture, a small breach of contact, yet you felt the flitter of wings under your skin arise. You looked over at him through your eyelashes. 

Tim was as concentrated as ever, almost as if touching you was an absent-minded comfort, his body reaching out for yours without much thought. A few bounces and you slipped your other foot under his to trap his shoe between yours. 

The change in speed made him look up at you. He missed your eyes by a second as you looked back down at your laptop, face blank but your nerves ablaze. Tim met your challenge, shifting in his seat and looking back down at his laptop. 

A second later and you felt his second shoe fall on top of the pile of feet, claiming his win from being at the top. You wiggled your feet out of the tower but he quickly pinned yours down on either side of the table. 

Moments passed and you continued the work as his shoes gave playful pressure on top of yours. Deep into your work, your toes lifted up and down slowly, adding onto the silent game you two played. The encore to the tapdance continued until the barista called Tim’s name. 

The absence of his warmth was striking, but the electricity humming under your skin kept you warm. You watched as he graciously took the drinks from the barista. She smiled and said something to him, eyes flickering between you and him. You saw him decline easily, his gala smile stunning as always. He looked back at you, allowing you to read his lips.

The butterflies decayed for the first time, burying themselves far away to never take flight again. 

“We’re just friends.” 

⋘⋙

Weeks passed and you pushed your feelings down, distracting yourself in work and miscellaneous hobbies—anything to avoid Tim. You couldn’t stop the way your heart would leap with hope when you heard his voice or see his face, only to fall miserably in remembrance of his rejection. 

Tim got caught up in his work too, assuming the distance between you two was nothing more than life getting in the way. So when he invited you over to the Manor, he was excited to hear your acceptance. 

You wanted to decline, you really did. The hollow feeling in your chest was slowly filling with disappointment and it was hard to ignore the passive resentment that festered. But Tim was your best friend, he’d immediately know something was wrong if you shut him down so upfront. As much as you wanted to stay home, he would probably check up on you and you couldn’t imagine having to lie to him face-to-face. 

You steeled your nerves and met up with him, retracing the path to his room that your body memorized years ago. Your mind settled into the familiar pattern of hanging out with him: lounging on his bed that smelled just like his soft hugs, a blend of coffee and parchment, a bit of lavender coating the edges. You let yourself hear the excitement in his voice as he talked about his newest endeavor and fiddled with the knick knacks in his room. 

He plopped himself onto the bed next to you, brushing against you by accident. You slipped off the bed in favor of sitting on the couch, preoccupying yourself with something new. Your words slipped into a colder tone, quieting yourself down instead of trying new flirty one-liners in hopes of giving him enough hints. Your body language shifted towards the bedroom door more than towards him, your body catching onto your reserved attitude for today. 

If Tim noticed the change in your behavior, he didn’t say anything. 

In fact, he was as dense as ever.

“What do you think a good date would look like?” he asked, scrolling through his phone trying to find something, you had no clue what he was searching for so passionately but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

You fidgeted with the Rubix Cube that Tim kept by his desk while sitting at the very edge of the couch closest to the exit. Your attention was on the toy, allowing yourself to find comfort in the repetitive nature of it. 

You shrugged, the pit in your stomach growing larger by the second. “I don’t know, I’ve never been on one.” 

Tim set his phone down, adjusting his position on the bed to be closer to you. “Yea, but if you were to go on one, what would be enjoyable?”

You breathed out through your nose, flicking the rows away from each other until colors collided. “Amusement parks, I guess? The docks by the harbor have some fun stuff to do, too.”

Tim hummed. “So something to do together?”

“I mean, yea. That’s the whole point of a date.” 

Tim’s shoulders slouched, a quiver in his brow caught your eye. Your brain provided reasoning for this topic, knowing he was looking into taking another person on a date and consulting you, his best friend, for advice. It left you upset and even more disappointed. 

The snap in your tone shut Tim’s next few questions down.

He dropped the subject. 

⋘⋙

“I just don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t, you obviously like them and they obviously like you, you’re panicking for nothing.”

“But what if they don't actually like me? What if I say the wrong thing at the wrong time or try to take things too fast and they—I don’t know? End up hating the day?” 

Steph looked at Tim with a deadpan expression. “You have got to be the most dense idiot on the planet.” 

Tim consulted his notepad, clutching it with two hands. He read over the scribble of words again and again. It was a list of things to do on a date, advice, and one liners he found while scouring the internet. 

“I’m not dense.”

Steph scoffed, a playful laugh crossing her lips. “You two have been best friends for how long now? Oh yea, since highschool. And who had to point out to you that they've been flirting with you for years? Oh yea, me.”

Tim huffed, forgoing the notepad for the familiar sense of dread and anxiety. “I just have no clue what I’m doing. The last time I went on a date with someone to an amusement park I fell asleep on a roller coaster. That date ended horribly, I don’t want this one to.”

“Wasn’t that your first time at an amusement park?” 

Tim shifted on his feet, “Yea?”

Steph shrugged, a half smile on her lips. “Then practice. Can’t get something wrong if you rehearse it enough times.”

Tim quirked an eyebrow. “You want me to go to an amusement park to practice? Who am I going to practice with?” 

“Take me first," she said nonchalantly, "That way you’ll know what to expect and I get to stop hearing about this. It’s a win-win.” 

He contemplated for a second, taking one last glance at his notepad before accepting the offer. “Fine, but you’re buying your own ticket.”

⋘⋙

You finished packing your bag before heading over to the Manor. You and Tim had today planned out for months in advance ever since Tim found out your favorite game series was dropping a new release. He preordered the game and it was set to come in the mail this morning so you could play it together all day. 

Your feelings had stalled, excitement covering any semblance of resentment. You cherished your friendship and were happy to finally play a video game you both enjoyed. Knocking on the large oak door, you awaited to be greeted at the entrance. 

Tim always waited at the front of the Manor so he could greet you himself, his excitement tackling his patience. But this time, you were greeted by Alfred. Formalities aside, you figured Tim was just setting up the game console in the gaming room. 

“Good morning. Please, come in.” 

You stepped into the Manor, Alfred not even questioning your presence. “I just finished preparing breakfast, would you care for some?”

You eagerly nodded, happy to have any of Alfred’s famous cooking. He guided you to the kitchen where he finished making portable breakfasts for the household, knowing everyone was on a different schedule this morning. Damian stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and watching you as you happily took one of the portions left. 

“Thank you, Alfred!” you said while settling onto a barstool. 

“Of course. Don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” He bowed his head slightly and took his leave, brushing the crinkles off his suit as he walked. 

You munched on the breakfast themed parfait, the fruits blending magically on your tongue. 

Damian's presence was something you could never quite get used to, it was tense yet calming, a constant contradiction. He picked at one of the fruits at the edge of his bowl. “What are you doing here?” 

He stated the question in such a way that the words seemed to run into one another, an accusation forming from the harsh tone. 

“Tim invited me over,” you said in between bites. “We’re gonna play the new video game he ordered.” 

Damian never looked up at you, priorities laying elsewhere than with you. “You must have the wrong day. Tim’s not at the Manor today.” 

You choked on the food, tripping over yourself to swallow properly before answering. Damian mixed his food calmly, barely paying you any mind.

“What do you mean he’s not here, we’ve had today planned for months?” You set your fork down, shooting a confused glare towards Damian. 

“He left an hour ago,” he responded shortly, always one to condense responses into something brief.

You waved your hand in confusion. “Where did he go?”

“Somewhere with Brown. He briefly mentioned Amusement Mile, he probably took her there.” 

Your heart sunk, feeling Damian’s words shoot through your chest, the pain spreading across your body until your fingertips numbed. Distantly, you were aware Tim probably asked you about a date idea to take someone out, you just hadn’t expected it to be this soon. Not to mention, for him to completely forget about his plans with you. 

Your breath stuttered, a wheeze coming out of your mouth instead of words. You shouldn’t be surprised, Tim had history with Steph back when you two first met—such good chemistry is hard to forget. You didn't expect for old insecurities to resurface so easily.

Damian continued, failing to notice your reaction yet. “Todd believes they won’t get back together, I disagree. They were together once before, it can happen again. She has always been his one and only, it is just a matter of time before the idiot can figure it out.” 

Your chest caved in, breaths coming out in short bursts. You tried so hard to be silent, to keep yourself from breaking down. You looked down at your half-eaten breakfast in despair, sadness weighing your body down in your seat. 

A poorly contained sob caught Damian’s attention. He side-eyed you, his stirring stopped when he noticed the heartbreak you failed to hide. His feet stood frozen to the floor, his muscles tensing in confusion. Each tear that fell onto your plate left Damian even more tense, having no clue what to do with a crying human being in front of him.

He itched to grab Grayson or even Father to help, they are much better suited for this than him. You scrubbed at your face, a hiccup wracking your lungs. Hands pushed against the counter and you shook your head sharply. “I'm just—I’m…I’m gonna go.”

You stumbled off the barstool, landing against the counter firmly. Watching this struck Damian out of his stupar. 

“Stay,” he demanded, food placed down on the counter. 

You sniffled in confusion, tears sticking to your face. 

“Pennyworth would be disappointed in such a waste of food.” Damian's attempts at comfort always came out unintentionally harsh, but the hidden meaning was always something he wished he could speak with ease: “Let me keep you company.”

Damian listened to the entire story, letting you rant to him with all your will power until you were shaking with sadness. He sat you down on the comfiest couch he could find and let you sob until your lungs gave out. He sat still the entire time, listening intently and offering his best try at being a comforting presence. 

About an hour in he left and came back with Alfred the cat curled up in his arms. He placed the yawning cat on your stomach as you laid down, quoting a random fact about the pressure of cats on someone's chest easing anxiety. 

He didn't know what else to do to help you, this whole situation completely foreign to him.

It wasn’t long until you nodded off, the exhaustion of so much pent up sadness coming out at once. Your eyes burned from the salt and your head throbbed with a powerful headache, throat sore from sharp breaths. Alfred purred, the vibrations calming you down instantly. 

When you fell asleep fully, you didn’t even notice Damian stepping out into the next room. 

⋘⋙

Tim’s phone buzzed insistently inside his pocket. “Hold on,” he told Steph, pulling aside from a booth to fish out his phone. 

“Hello?” Tim picked up.

“You absolute idiotic moron. Somehow you manage to astound me from your lack of brain cells every day.” 

Tim glanced at Steph who could hear Damian seething from the other end of the phone. Steph winced, quickly turning back to the booth in favor of staying as far away from the problem as possible (that wasn’t going to stop her from asking Tim about it later). 

“I’m kind of busy, Damian, can this wait—”

“Let me tell that to Y/n. Perhaps they can save their tears for when you get back from whatever you believe is more important than your planned date with them.” 

Tim stilled, ice running down his back. He looked back at Steph with enough fear in his eyes for her to step out of line and meet up with him. 

“Shit.”

“Indeed. Now get your mediocre self over here before they leave for good.”

“Can you tell them I’m sorr—”

The phone clicked as Damian hung up. Tim stared at the phone in shock, shifting his eyes back to Steph who munched on a half eaten churro she made Tim buy for her as payment among many other things. 

“What's his deal?”

“We have to go, now.”

⋘⋙

Tim burst through the Manor doors, Steph offering to handle the car while Tim went in. Damian stood near the entryway with his arms crossed, a scowl frustratingly covering his face. 

“You truly messed up this time, Drake.” 

Tim let out an impatient sigh. “Spare me. Just tell me where they are.”

With a tsk, Damian walked away. Tim knew better than to waste time standing around, he followed quickly. Damian led Tim through the manor until he stopped in front of the Library. Tim peered in, opting to scope out the damage from afar. 

Damian, frustratingly low on patience for his idiotic brother for having hurt a family friend, he shoved Tim in fully. He smirked happily when Tim stumbled until he caught himself. 

“Fix them” was the last thing Damian said before shutting the library door with a ‘click’. Tim grumbled, surprised Damian didn’t go as far as to lock the door. 

There you were, sleeping on the couch with Alfred curled up on your chest. Upon his entrance, Alfred’s eyes blinked open into a glare he probably learned from Damian. The cat shook its head, stretching out to protect your torso. The cat bumped its forehead against your chin with a chuff. 

Tim slowly walked up to you, kneeling down beside the couch so he was level with you. He still faced the glare of Alfred the cat, the ferocious protector of your puffy eyed self. A hesitant hand landed on your shoulder, a whisper of a name later and nothing changed. Tim shifted, anxiety clinging to his chest. 

He softly shook your shoulder, effectively pissing the cat off enough to stand up and stretch it's back before jumping off your chest. The power of the jump was enough for you to snap awake, startled by the action. Even moreso, seeing Tim in your peripheral was enough for you to jump. 

Your eyes met his remorseful ones. Your heart sunk, not wanting to face the disappointment of today's reality. Without a second to talk yourself out of it, you rolled over, facing the back of the couch instead of him. 

“Leave me alone,” you mumbled, your words coming out in short croaks from your sore throat. 

“Just let me explain, I promise it’s not what it looks like.” 

You laughed miserably. “Sure,” you said sarcastically, “ ‘It's not what it looks like’. You already told me you don’t like me, I don’t need to hear it again. Just leave me be, Tim.”

“Woah woah woah,” Tim placed his hand on your shoulder in a poor attempt to get you to face him. “What are you talking about?” 

Anger boiled up inside you to protect the sadness you felt in your heart. Jealousy and disappointment merged into a deafening cocktail of pissed off. 

You quickly rolled around to face Tim’s confused face head on. 

“ ‘We’re just friends’, do you have any idea how much hearing that hurt? I spent months trying to drop hints to you that I loved you and you even reciprocated half the time so I thought, hell, maybe I have a chance. Maybe the boy I’ve been in love with since high school loves me back. But no, I’m nothing but a friend to you. I shouldn’t have been surprised when you got back together with your ex and prioritized her over me.” 

You spoke until you were breathless, plopping back against the couch to glare at the ceiling. 

Tim opened and closed his mouth, brain trying to unpack everything wrong in that sentence one at a time so he could solve this. 

“Y/n look at me,” Tim said softly, hands wanting to push back your bangs so he could guide your eyes to his. You glared up at him. 

“I didn’t prioritize her over you, I didn’t even realize I mixed up the dates until Damian called me. I am so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to at all.” 

Your eyes left his, tears pricking your eyes as your body struggled to figure out how to respond to the overwhelming emotions your brain filtered through your body. 

Tim squeezed your shoulder gently. “Steph and I are not getting back together.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You expect me to believe that? Why else would you take her out on the date I suggested?”

Tim slumped sheepishly, not wanting to explain the next part of this story for fear of embarrassment. “She was helping me—training me actually—so I could take the person I really love on a date and not mess it up.” 

Your brain stuttered to a stop, short circuiting on the explanation and struggling to comprehend what he was trying to say. Your eyes widened, a tear slipping out from the shift in movement.

Tim scrambled to explain, noticing your tear and immediately feeling his anxiety tighten its grip. 

"I'm not very…good? At this kind of thing? I really wanted to impress you so I asked you where you wanted to go and spent hours researching how to talk to you so I could finally tell you how I feel." Tim leaned forward as he talked, shifting his weight onto his knees. 

He continued, fingers fidgeted against each other. "I was so nervous," he wrung his hands out, "I didn't know what to do, to say, to bring—and then Steph offered to help me by pretending to be you and I…I just wanted your first date to go perfectly." 

His words sank into you, each one attacking your skin with the fast pace he was talking. The second the weight of the words registered, you snapped your head to face him. You lifted yourself up, propping your body up with your elbow.

"Wait, you," you pointed at him as you spoke, "wanted to take me on a date? A real date?"

Tim relaxed minutely, half his body still tense. 

"Yea? I mean, I'd still like to…" he trailed off, bright blue bells looking up at you expectantly. 

"I thought I was just a friend to you?" You spoke softly, hesitant to let your hopes climb too high as pretty colored wings started to flap again. 

"You are! You've been my best friend for years and I've enjoyed every second of it. I didn't want to ruin what we had because I enjoyed it so much." His hands moved as he talked, the more nervous he got the more sharp the gestures were. You watched him as the butterflies flew closer to your heart, making your head dizzy with the excitement filtering through you.

Wings beat against your lungs, wearing your patience down with each breath.

Tim continued: "I ended up falling in love with my best friend. It was new, and nerve-wracking, so I didn't want to ask you out until I knew for sure that you liked me because I really like you. But I'd understand if today kind of ruined everyth—"

Your patience disappeared as he backtracked, you didn’t want this moment to slip through your fingers. You gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, his face a moment away from yours. His lips could almost feel yours, it made his eyes tilt downwards as the butterflies in his stomach flew with yours, a dance of colors surrounding you two.

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@sunhats-and-candycorn

@missredrobin

[antianakin]

While I thought these two episodes were quite interesting and fun and good quality for this show, they also just further prove that the show absolutely sucks and has no reason to exist.

These two episodes were so clearly PLOT HEAVY episodes, this wasn't just filler. This was discussing the fate of the clones, defeated a major villain in the show, and brought in several major characters for cameos. All of this is generally stuff that would only happen in major plot heavy episodes, not filler.

But none of it had a lick to do with the main characters. None of it.

All of our main characters have left the GAR, so whether the clones remain troopers or not has zero effect on them and they don't give a flying shit about regular clones anyway so what do they care about the fates of their much-hated "regs." The main characters have exactly no stakes in this storyline at all.

The villain's defeat doesn't really come about because the mains have any vested interest in bringing him down. They're brought in by the two cameo characters to help THEM defeat the villain. The main characters are tools in this endeavor, but not the instigators of it. They don't have any real emotional connection to his defeat that we ever get to see.

And none of the main characters actually grow or change because of the events of this episode except for Echo, who ends up LEAVING and is getting indefinitely written off the show as a result. And that choice doesn't even have anything to really do with the actual plot of the episodes, but just because he meets Rex who mentions he's out saving other clones sometimes which is something Echo finds appealing. Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega are all effectively exactly the same at the end of this as they were at the beginning.

And Echo's leaving isn't even sad. The music tells me I should be sad, but they've never built up a real relationship between Echo and anybody else on the show. And aside from Omega, no one even seems all that upset to see him go in THIS episode, but Omega's had all of about 2 real scenes with Echo across 1.5 seasons, so it doesn't feel all that impactful.

The episodes were GOOD, but they weren't good because it had anything to do with the actual main characters of this show. They were good because it dealt with characters I ACTUALLY cared about (clones in general, Bail, Rex, Riyo) doing stuff that dealt with bigger issues that impact the galaxy and larger groups of people. The events of this episode have long-lasting implications for the worldbuilding, it fleshes out Riyo as a character, it shows us what Bail was like as an Imperial Senator and the thin line he had to walk. We got to see the aftereffects of the attack on Kamino, but the people actually impacted by this weren't the main characters, but the real clones, Riyo Chuchi, and Halle Burtoni (of all fucking people).

The episodes that deal with really interesting plot-heavy material are never interesting BECAUSE of the main characters, they're almost always SIDE characters in someone else's plot-heavy story because the main characters are entirely removed from it all. They never had connections to anybody more involved in the main story and are given personalities that mean they actively do not care about doing anything interesting with the main storyline. All they can do is stay static and throw out running gags every so often when they go on random adventures (Wrecker hates heights, Tech is a perfectionist, etc). But they don't grow. They can't.

This show is at its most interesting when it looks at almost literally anybody else BUT the main characters. It's at its most meaningful and impactful when it moves away from putting its main characters center stage and just lets them be side characters to someone else's story instead.

[imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd]

Alright so pulling this right out of my ass but spider as a child or a toddler spider knowing him he would ran in a room that's off limits but he stole one of the scientist card running from recom and from quaritch in there base since spider is a 16 year old so he is a little trouble maker when spider is running he ran right beside a scientist grabbing there card running in the lab swaps the card running in locking it spider this poor boy the old theme we all know and somewhat love curiosity killed the cat he sees a bottle of blueish with white in it so he grab it and drink it when he put it down he heard the door open in the lab Finley hearing quaritch cussing up a storm walking inside with Lyle spider immediately hide under a table keeping him unseen until he slowly close his eyes the darkness he falling as he thought no he was turned into a toddler quaritch on the right still cussing without a filter Lyle looking around calling for spider until he felt something touch his leg he looked down to see a toddler he and for some reason I can imagine spider calling Lyle like "papa" because he sees Lyle first he would pick up the little spider and walked to miles telling him how he or how spider find him and spider god bless his tiny little soul he calls miles "Dada" what would they do with a toddler spider what if it can't be fix?

Recoms Raising Spider Headcanons

AHHHHHH 🥰🥰🥰 I love this

A/N: Ok just for plot convince let’s say the effects of the mysterious potion only last 16 days. 1 day=1 year so it takes about 2 weeks for spider to get back to normal. Also we’re just gonna pretend that it reset his hair so no dreads(It still gets long as hell tho)

774 Words

Warnings: fluff, Cussing

@hyperfixatedfandomer @naavispider

Look at his instincts finding his dad’s 😭. It’s like that one episode in spongebob where him and Patrick have the baby clam (Lyle is the mom✨)

Quaritchs emotions are through the roof😭

1.he’s pissed spider ran off in the first place and on top of that causing more problems by turning into a toddler

2.he’s stressed ASF. Demanding everygod damn scientist in that lab to tell him what’s going on and to fix his boy(they were testing the shit that comes from the tulkans)

3.He’s also kinda emotional tho because he didn’t get to see spider grow up into a teenager and now he has that opportunity.

I like to think spider looked ALOT like quaritch when he was little but as he got older started to look like Paz.

TODDLER STAGE(1-3)

The worst stage

None of the recoms sleep during these days

Spiders sleep schedule is so fucked up from living in the lab

He’s one of those nocturnal toddlers

Sleeps all throughout the day and is up all night

He’s a fast little fucker

Quaritch now understands how he got the name spider

He’ll will look away for one minute and all of the sudden spiders on top of a 8ft recom dresser

They obviously don’t have toddler clothes so he’s just wearing the smallest adult shirt they could find and it’s still huge

I can see them gushing over his curls

He definitely got those from paz

Spiders a bad ass toddler, I’m talking getting in stuff he’s not supposed to, biting, hitting, kicking, spitting, running

At one point Lyle says fuck it and makes a child leash

Despite being a literal demon he’s really clingy

Attached to Lyle and quaritch at the hip

Like quaritch had to go a patrol outside so he left spider with the medbay folks, it broke his heart when he shut the door and heard spiders little feet running to the door crying for dada to come back

He almost called the whole mission off

He definitely holds the recoms tails when following the around

EARLY CHILDHOOD STAGE(4-5)

Probably the easiest stage the recoms had to deal with

I mean spider was still a hell spawn but he was more reserved

The recoms were so drained from toddler spider they just shoved a tablet in his face

It worked though

Still really clingy (and quaritch loves it)

Still looks a lot like a mini quaritch

Not as active as they’re used to him being

MID CHILDHOOD STAGE(6-9)

This I were his ADHD Shines

Quaritch has never seen a kid this hyperactive in both his lifetimes

Like they look up and this boy is 50ft in the air using the pipes on the ceiling as monkey bars

Quaritch nearly dies from many heart attacks during this stage

Spiders finally big enough to fit into the exopacks and go with the recoms on patrol

Y’all remember Trazan 2 where Tazan is a kid yea that’s just spider

Lyle also teachs him to shoot (yk with the guns he can lift)

Spider has absolutely no patience

Annoys the hell out of EVERYONE, nobody’s safe

The tablet technique doesn’t work in this stage because his attention span is to small to focus

Quaritch notices he’s starting to look and act like Paz more

Like spiders hair is starting to get darker and his mother’s attitude is starting to show

PRE-TEEN STAGE(10-12)

Speaking of attitude it gets 10x worse in this stage

The second worst stage

This is the stage quaritch has been dreading since the toddler stage

He’s starting to turn into the spider they kno and love

His hair has now reached his shoulders

Z-dog starts putting Viking braids in his hair

He gets really attached to Z-dog in this stage

They’re the bitchy attitude duo

Literally doesn’t want to cooperate with anyone

Him and quaritch are at each other’s throats

Spiders always hungry and eats ungodly amounts of food

I mean he’s a growing boy

His Navi instincts are coming back to him

Like he disappears for like 15 minutes, all the recoms are panicking, and then spider shows up covered in war paint and mud with like 6 fish on his homemade spear

TEEN STAGE (13-16)

Finally

Spiders basically back

When that last day come he barley remembers anything that happened

It’s all like a blur to him

He wakes up pissed on that last day storms into recom meeting “WTF HAPPENED TO MY HAIR!” Cuz yk his dreads are gone

He honestly doesn’t remember most of it but loves listening to the recoms talk about the past 2 weeks

[bitchlessdino]

guilty pleasure pt.2

Pairing: Jihoon x f!reader x Mingyu

Genre: smut, some plot

Word count: 3.3k

Tags: mingyu and reader pov, siatuationship!mingyu awkward moments, producer!woozi, dumb banter, subby gyu, ma'am, choking (giving)

Summary: You know what’s shittier than liking someone taken? Liking someone taken by your best friend.

author note: im so tired yall, why does life get so busy like this? Anyways hello! I'm glad you guys are enjoying the series so fair. Im unsure how many chapters there will be but expect more as we move along w the plot. And sound off any thoughts you may have.

Chapter list

Mingyu couldn’t get enough of you. You hardly gave him the time of day the first time he laid his eyes on you, but the chase was absolutely worth it. Adorned with that tight outfit, hugging your body like a second skin, you were all he thought about that night. He was lucky enough to have met you through your mutual friend group, but unlike every other friendly face, you didn’t even show the slightest interest.

Mingyu got what he wanted most of the time and was well aware of the fact, so he was taken aback by your aloofness and failure to recognize the effect he had on every other man, woman, or nonbinary person that night. When he reaches over to graze your hand to retrieve his drink purposely, you pull away. When he tries to lean in close to talk to you over the loud music, you ask the friend next to you to translate. 

You really made it your life’s mission to ignore him at every given opportunity. He then realized his goal tonight was not to get you to sleep with him, but instead, he had hoped to achieve your respect.

“Hey.”

You glaze over him like you did every time he called out to you. “What’s up?”

“You like music? Like good music.”

You furrow your brows, “What’s good music to you?”

“None of this over-produced, over-remixed, club shit. Some good fucking music.”

Your interest was slightly piqued the first time that night, slipping the remaining contents of your watered-down drink. “I guess.”

“This probably might raise some interest for you then. I actually have an interesting collection back in my place–”

“Wow.” You exclaim in feigned disbelief. “That’s all you got? You think you can just win me over with some self-produced music that’s probably shit?”

“Yeah, but,” his lips slightly ghost over your ear, “aren’t you the slightest bit of interest in finding out if it’s actual shit like you think it is?”

You scoff. “No. Should I be?”

He shrugs, glad to finally get that smile’s first appearance. “The worst that could happen it sucks. And if it does, I’ll grant you access to kick me in the balls.”

You guffaw at his offer, almost spitting up your drink. You set it down at the high table, luckily finished, and turn to give Mingyu something that gave him a glimmer bit of hope. “You really can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

A very flirty way to ask, ‘Are you really that desperate to get my pants?’ Things were heading in the right direction finally.

“Maybe I just know you’d appreciate some good music.”

Whatever he did seem to have worked enough to convince you to follow him back to his place. You sit back on the well-worn couch and wait for the man of the hour to come back with a laptop you assumed was his and a set of Bluetooth earbuds to share. You peer over at the screen as he handed you the right piece and you notice the unfamiliar name. 

“I thought your name was Mingyu. Who’s Woozi?”

The taller man chuckles, putting the left ear in and seats beside you. “Just about the most talented person I know.”

“Your friend? What are you, his publicist? You get girls to come back to your place and get them into his music as a marketing ploy?”

He laughs, “No, but that is a pretty ingenious method of getting people to listen. I’ll take that idea into consideration.”

He makes sure your earbud is in place, lingering in your personal bubble momentarily. He taps the space bar to play the track. When the studio plays out, you are immediately drawn in by the smooth and alluring introduction. A man’s voice plays in the background, somewhat soft yet powerful. It's addicting how he hit several notes effortlessly while singing about what you could only assume to be sex. It was actually listenable.

“Not bad, good even.” You turn to him with a grin, a corner of the lip slightly higher than the other. “Your balls are safe for tonight.”

He chuckles, drawing attention to the attractive canines that completed his smile. 

“Wasn’t even worried for a second.” So he says, one hand cupping over his crotch. 

You cover your mouth the suppress the little giggle from escaping you and then you lock contact with his pretty brown eyes. Perhaps it wa steh fact you were listening to music for with him and without notice for around 10 minutes or so, but time felt still and this “Mingyu” felt alright. 

You managed to avoid him all night under the concern of waking up in some random guy's bed, but maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad, at least not with him. He didn’t seem like such a bad guy, despite the fact he's been trying to get your attention all night. You could do worse.

When you first kiss that night, you made the first move against your better judgment, immediately melting in the plush feeling of his lips. When Mingyu pulls away, the sensation of his fleeting lips lingered against yours. You see how he places a finger on them and scoffs in disbelief. “I thought you weren’t the type to fall for this kind of stuff.”

“So you admit it was a way of picking me up,” you point out.

“…I have no smart response for that.”

“Then just follow through with your plan.”

You reunite with his lips, hand settling with his chest. Shifting more comfortably, his hands naturally found the shape of your waist. The music still plays in your ears, having you both making out to the beat of electric guitar. You feel his smile, his hair pushing a lose strand of yours away and his gripps get tighter as his lips moved loser.

Having sex to music wasn’t anything rare for you, but the intimacy of the two of you being the only ones able to listen to Woozi playing was admittedly arousing on a different level.

Mingyu with his gorgeously aesthetic body and limitless stamina fortunately did not disappoint you that night. His hands wrapped around your body felt like pure heat and animal instinct. He rocks himself into your core with no hesitation and you reciprocate with the reward of hearing his name from your lips. 

His growls resonate in your ears despite the music, embracing you from behind. His lips aggressive and hungry engorges the skin of your neck, hips thrusting deep and hard into your bottom. He feels right, he feels comfortable, and some reason pliable, like he’d do anything you would’ve wanted that night.

When both climaxes came, yours before his which was always a good sign, he offers you to stay the night. Reluctantly, you accept his offer, giving him a gracious smile, covering the bits and pieces of yourself for most of the rest of that night. Mingyu couldn’t help but smile, feeling beyond the sense of pride or relief that he usually got with the accompanionship of a stranger Tonight he couldn't help but feel something he couldn’t exactly put his finger on. Joy, perhaps.

“Would you want to do this again?” He asks, hope settling in the pit of his stomach.

“We literally met today,” You rest your head on a propped up arm, “Plus you don’t seem like the type to get into anything deeper than hookups.”

He sighs, slightly offended by your answer but decidedly responds in a way without revealing so, “We can just to get to know each other. Nothing serious. If that’s how you want things to be.”

You eyes daze over his naked body, glistening in his perspiration, chest heaving in anticipation, and that puppy dog look in his eyes that you couldn’t help but get momentarily lost it. You were always a dog person. You feel it for the first time in body, entrapped in the boyish charm that you missed out on initially.

“We’ll see in the morning, hmm? I can’t really think clearly right now,” you vulnerably confess.

A smile bridged his face, arms wrapping and tucking you inside his embrace. You take advantage of his advances and lay your head in his chest between his firm pectoral muscles, where it was admittedly homey and familiar. You could get used to this if you tried.

You were happy to drift off to sleep and wake up in those same arms the next morning. MIngyu seemed to sleep contently snuggling with you, but you worried whether the numbness appeared in those elephant trunk arms of his. You try gently prying him off, seeking refuge in that bathroom and finding yourself successful. Picking up whatever clothing you had on the ground and quickly covering yourself in it.

You escape the room with ease and turn into the common area where you lock eyes with a new character enjoying cereal by himself on the kitchen counter. He seemed quite solemn about your appearance and makes little to no effort to acknowledge you as you do to him initially since you beeline straight to the restroom. That couldn’t have been more awkward, you thought.

Having quickly freshen yourself up, you meet eyes with the stranger once again and instead of retreating to Mingyu’s room, you join him with a friendly smile. ”Hi…”

“Hey,” he greets still munching on what looks to be captain crunch, “Did you want some?”

“No, no. I’m good. I just thought it’d be rude to not say anything.”

“Cool.”

He’s not much of a talker, you realize, but end up taking the stool chair on the opposite end anyway, seeing as you’ve made it this far. “I’m guessing Mingyu’s done this a lot. You’re not surprised to see me.”

“Yeah…Your sex lives. I dont judge.”

You nod, grinning a smile that says, ‘well alright then.’

“Just in case I see you on the street or something, I’m Y/n.” God, please stop.

He nods. “Jihoon. His roommate.”

Your eyes grows twice his size. “Roommate, god that would’ve been some good information before i decided to stay over,”

He shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, if I can help it, I’ll try getting him out of the house or something.”

“You will?” He pauses.

“...Yeah. We’’re thinking of seeing each other.”

“...Hmm. Okay. That’s new.”

His tone comes off slightly dubious but not enough for it to come off offensive, you let the matter go. The tension breaks when the man of the hour leaves his bedroom in a lone pair of boxers, coming up to embrace you from behind. His lips nip at your ear and you can’t help but feel self-conscious of the other person there. His voices makes the hair on your shoulders stands as he whispers, “Morning gorgeous. Missed you in bed.”

“Thanks. Just ignore that I’m here, Gyu.”

Mingyu’s tone perks into something more peppy for his rather stoic roommate, grinning from ear to ear. “Jihoon! When did you come home?”

He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the possibility of giving his roommate a free show, and you feel just a bit pity for the man. 

“I don’t know. One, two am? Reminds me I need to buy some travel noise cancelling headphones.”

The man, noticeably shorter than Mingyu, trods off to his room and leaving you and your nightly partner alone. That day marks the first of many awkward small talks and empty silences with Jihoon, a man of what you find to be of many surprises. One of the next few times you woke up in Mingyu’s bed, you greeted his roommate once again, seeing as he’s working something on the designated ‘Woozi’ labeled computer you remember Mingyu using the first time you came over and bring it up to his attention.

“You aren’t perhaps, the Woozi, are you?”

“...I am? You heard of me?”

You smile at him, finally something to pique some of his interest. “Mingyu showed me some of your stuff the first time we met.”

“Oh. sorry.”

Your eyes blow open, “No, no. Your stuff is really good. Lucky too, MIngyu would’ve gotten his balls knocked back into him if it wasn’t.”

You try holding back most of your laughter but fail and Jihoon joins you, sporting quite the attractive smile. “Honestly, sucks to miss out on that. It’d be funny to see Mingyu struck out for once. Literally.”

“Wow, you’re mean,” You comment back laughing.

“You’re the one that wanted to go through with it,” he retorts, a grin wide and apparent.

“I didn’t think the music would actually be bad, and if it was, I still wouldn’t!”

“Right…”

You were both laughing about five minutes before Mingyu joined the both of you, wondering what he’s missed and eventually there was this natural interaction between the all of you. It almost became routine. Mingyu and you had sex as often as possible with the days and time you had available and that meant you saw Jihoon as often as expected. It was like clock work how your dynamic became how it is. And if you were bing honest, You were as comfortable with Jihoon as you were Mingyu, if not more.

“I’m starting to think you use our bed creaking or voices in your songs without our permission,” You instigate one day. 

Jihoon snorts. “In what god’s name makes you believe that?”

“I see you almost all the time. It’s like you’re always here. Not that I’d mind though.”

You’re sitting next to him this time in Mingyu’s obnoxiously big t-shirt, sharing a brew of coffee that Jihoon decided to make for the day while he’s writing in that music journal of his. He looks at you unpleasantly, playfully offended by the accusation pointed toward him. 

“...Well, I’m not. That’s be perverse. Not that I need to defend myself, but I’m not.”

“Okay, then,” you tease.

“It may be hard to believe, but I have a life outside the both of you, you know.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you.” You knock into his shoulder, giggling, only to see him roll his eyes back at you.

Jihoon is silently for a short time, and that silence falls in the between the lines of awkward again once he fakes a random cough. You hum back at him, sipping your coffee and wait for him to give a response. Instead, he lingers a little too long into his thoughts before he settles into a simple, “Fine…Believe what you want to believe.”

He’s quiet for the rest of that time before Mingyu finally joins us and you start to miss talking to him. Since that day those interactions started to die out, and you’ve wondered why. His conversations with you are alot more cut and less detailed. It hurt to be honest. Jihoon was refreshing and gave you insight that MIngyu couldn’t provide. Then again, Mingyu wasn’t awful company.

“God, you’re so big…”

You ride MIngyu’s hips like you were aiming for the blue ribbon. That confident side smile stretches over his cheeks feeling you clench around him marvelously. His hands find home on your breasts, feeling their soft and perfect they were in his grasps. You’d moan against his jaw, pressing kisses over his skin, making him shudder. 

“Fuck yes.” His hands travel down to your hips, guiding you to which suit him best, and you feel the jerk of his cock pump into you. 

You mewl over his intiative and run your lip messily over his. He clutches your frame with much desperation and moans in your mouth as you suck on his tongue. Your hands run through his bed hair, whining to the clap of your butt cheeks when Mingyu decides to get ‘playful.’ That’s when you try out one of the things you’ve discussed in the past. Your index and thumb presses on either side of his neck, squeezing just slightly and Mingyu just lets out a single breath.

“Mm…” he only says.

You had came enough times tonight and finally it felt like it was MIngyu’s turn to get fucked stupid. You had no complaints for teh arrangement you had with him so far. You squeeze on the base of his neck a little tighter along with another set of something clenching around him. “Yeah? You like that?”

“Mmh, yes…”

Your hips buckle faster, mouth ajar anticpatingly, the voice that leaves you sounding domineering as possible, “Yes, what?”

With a smile laced was ecstasy on his face, he answers. “Yes ma’am…”

“What a good boy. Should I let you cum, baby?”

He nods, aching to get that bit of breath from the small opening you’re allowing oxygen through.

“What have I told you about talking…I want to hear you, Gyu. Tell me how much you want to cum.”

“Please,” he says without a beat in between, “I want to come so bad…please…ma’am.”

You audibly moan, feeling his hips fuck in you faster, only fueling you more. “Yes, baby. Cum for me. You can cum.”

Your hand still around his neck, his eyes rolls back, his neck giving out and falling to his bedframe as the heat of his load vilolent spurts into his latex encased cock, weakly jerking back into you. His hand catches the back of your head and hold against the crook of his neck. You chuckle in the skin of his neck, running your lips over it.

“You’re amazing,” he finally says when let go of the chokehold.

You kiss him as thanks, smiling at him with dopamine still running through your body. “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

He nods, chastely kissing you back before letting you go. You hastily threw another shirt on, but don’t bother to get underwear. Leaving him a small smile, you close Mingyu’s door behind you and strut to the bathroom door where its starts opening on the other end. 

Startled, Jihoon faces parallel to you with wet strands of hair dripping down to his broad exposed shoulders. His tone arms were no surprise as you’ve seen (not stared) from the sleeveless muscle tees he occasionally sports. The tiny waist and sculpted torso, however, was more than enough to get that sex high to return.

Your eyes linger on each other for some time. His gaze scans you from top to bottom, your legs only being the thing to be apparent from your otherwise covered body, before he meets your eyes solemnly, lacking much of a reactive response. “Mind moving?”

“S-sorry, “ You step aside to take in his appearance. 

Only in a pair of gym shorts, Jihoon steps out of the bathroom, clutching a familiar article of clothing in his hand. “Isn’t that the shirt I borrowed?”

The tips of his ear turn noticeable pink, and a deafening silence resonates before he finally decides to respond. “Yeah, I took it with me thinking it was a clean shirt. I was gonna throw it in the wash.”

He clutches it harder in his grip for you to make out what looks like a dark wet stain. “Huh, okay. Thanks about that again by the way.”

“Yeah. bye.”

He trods off again but offers you a show without meaning to. With his incredibly delicious upper body down to the round thick ass to follow, you grew increasingly aware of the moisture between your legs. You were no better than any man.

You close the bathroom door discreetly behind you, images of Jihoon’s taken aback expression (which happened to be a normal amount of endearing) before showing off one of the godliest bodies you’ve ever seen on a human being. You swallow your own drool, hands creeping down to the arousal seeping out of your already lubed-up cunt, regretting not wearing that underwear now.

“What the fuck was that?”

[beeslibrarycorner]

Let Me Hold You

Peter Ballard x Reader

Word count: 692

Warnings: NONE

Plot: Peter helps reader sleep when your anxious

Request Hey bee 🐝 I really like your sleeping fics and is it alright if we can get another one?

Your anxiety was at an all time high, nothing felt right as you paced around your office. You were anxious, you felt stuck like you couldn't fix anything and that irritated you. One of your coworkers screwed up the charts for new book shipments, causing you and your boss to scramble to get a new file sent in.

When Peter saw you pacing around in your office it was around 9:30, he felt concerned for you. “Baby” he said gently leaning against the doorway as you turned around and stopped all movement.

“Yes peter” you said shoulders tense and legs aching from all the movement. “Honey I think it's time we get you ready for bed, you can stress about this tomorrow.” he says walking into the office and sitting on the plush couch. Your apartment was quiet and it wasn't too hot or too cold, it was comfortable.

You purse your lips together and shook your head, Peter raised an eyebrow at you. You were in your pjs already and your teeth were brushed so you don't have to worry about getting ready for bed. “Peter, don't worry about me, I have to fix the mess Eileen made at work.” You explained crossing your arms.

“But you can fix it tomorrow, you have so much time.” he said, opening his arms so you can sit in his lap. You had a feeling he had a plan, use his powers and get you to fall asleep. “Can you sit in my lap so I can hold you, I miss my girl” he said with a pout forming on his face.

You took a step towards him, but then you felt a force push you the rest of the way until you were between his legs. He grabbed your hips and placed you on his lap, hugging you close to him and kissing the crown of your head. You noticed his right hand subtly moving up your body while his left arm was wrapped around your waist.

“Peter no” you said when you grabbed ahold of his wrist and tried to push it away. “Peter yes” he murmured into the skin behind your ear before he pressed a small kiss to the shell of your ear. You can feel him smirking, you didn't know what his next move was. 

He suddenly started to tickle you with his left hand effectively having you let go of him and curl up onto his lap laughing. He chuckled at your reaction before gently pressing the heel of his hand against your forehead. Your body went lax and you started to slur your words sleepily, “Your no fair” you murmured, head falling against his shoulder.

“All's fair in love and war my love” Peter said, maneuvering your body so that he was cradling you. He used his powers to dim the lights of your office abit, you tried to squirm with the energy you had left. He just clicked his tongue and started to rock you back and forth a little.

“I know what's best for you sweetie and you stressing out about something that's out of your control is not good. You staying up late is not healthy” Peter cooed and you only hummed in response. Peter cradled you on the couch for a good fifteen minutes, then he carried you to bed; using his powers to turn the office lights off fully when he left.

He placed you down gently on the bed, brushing the hair out of your face and smiling down at you. You could smell the detergent on the fresh sheets as he tucked you in for the night. He turned off the bed side lamp on your side, before moving to his side of the bed; then he turned off his. 

When he got into bed and held you close you felt like jelly in his hold. When he pressed his lips to your forehead you felt his powers surge through you to finish you off. You blacked out instantly, body going limp against his. Tomorrow he was going to help you with whatever he could so you wouldn't stress.

[chuplayswithfire]

Do you have OFMD fic recs?

do i have OFMD fic recs?

oh my god, but do i have OFMD fic recs. i am, not, as some might be fooled into thinking, a Normal Person, and as of today I have read through and browsed about 77 pages of the 103 pages worth of Edward x Stede fics over 3k in length that AO3 has to offer.

Why have I done this? I really enjoy reading fics. Seeing what the writing community has to offer, enjoying whats available, crying at the things that make me feel the word No crystalize louder in the core of my being when I see takes I can't live with.

As a direct result of this, I currently have over a 180 specifically Ed x Stede OFMD fics in my bookmarks, so in the broadest of terms, generally speaking all of those could be in a rec list. But here's an incomplete list of the OFMD fics I would recommend (and have recommended to my friends). Also none of these will have the exact summary, just my sales pitch on them bc i don't feel like copying out the summaries.

domestic by Ark

the most blissfully domestic fic ever, a take on what could have happened had Stede and Ed left the academy together rather than what happened in canon. It's a long and generous character study on how these two might have adapted to domestic life together, how they flourished, and it nurtures my soul.

Turning Tides by Fyre

A speculative season 2 bringing in just about the entire cast from the first season and introducing new characters, new threats, and reuniting our sappy middle-aged men along the way, this series blew me away with magnificent characterization, stunning use of the characters and plot threads from the first season, and some absolutely fab moments. A speculative season 3 is coming in the future!

An Awfully Big Adventure by trinityofone

I won't spoil the surprise and twists in this tale, but it was a fun and emotional fantasy journey for our characters, and is astoundingly entirely from Izzy's POV, which is usually a thing I unashamedly hate, but here is used to incredibly fascinating effect. I couldn't stop reading this fic from the moment I started. This is post S1 and does have reconciliation/reunion aspects.

Always and Forever by stereobone

ACCIDENTALLY GOT MARRIED FIC, ACCIDENTALLY GOT MARRIED FIC, do I NEED to say more? Post-S1 Stede and Ed wake up married without remembering their reconciliation, things progress from there.

The CafeHouse by WaitingToBeBroken

Coffee shop AU where Ed is a tattoo artist and Stede is determined to figure out his perfect coffee order - because obviously Ed isn't a man to really want a black coffee. I loved this from start to finish, it had me laughing and screaming.

half-agony, half-hope by lyricl

Post Season 1 fic Ed gets his groove back by getting a new pen-pal, going on a journey of self-exploration, picking a first mate who aligns with his management and life goals, and getting his man back. I LOVED this fic, loved Fang and the rest of Ed's crew, and the various OCs who pop in from time to time. Really enjoyed the take on Izzy too which is a big one for me, and also the fact that this author, like me, agrees that Izzy needs to go and find the dom top of his dreams instead of trying to make Ed into that.

guardians of a rare thing by ShowMeAHero

its a 5+1 fic about nice things Stede did for Ed and one nice thing Ed did for Stede and look I am a simple woman, I just want my babygirl Edward Teach to have the best life possible and be spoiled and this fic satisfied that craving so well.

a very good bad thing by seularen

Someone tries to come after Ed while he and Stede are on vacation. Stede Handles It baby. I will actually copy a bit of the summary here to show you why i HAD to read this fic when I first found it, and why everyone else should too:

“Unhand him,” Stede said. “Or what?” “Good point. I can’t say ‘or bleed.’ You’re going to do that already.”

My Saddle's Waiting by dracothelizard

One of the shorter ones on this rec list, this is a nsfw comedy take on the first season, where Ed sees that Stede's hung like a horse in episode 4 and is determined to ride him some of that.

Possibly the only incomplete fic on this list but which I die for every update:

Chiaroscuro by MenaceAnon

featuring one of my favorite genres of OFMD fic, the Mary & Ed friendship dynamic, this fic features Stede crashing back into Mary's life with an injured Ed, and the ways that Ed, Mary, Stede, Doug, and the kids all interact. I love this take on Mary, I love the compassion and humor and care that the author puts into every single word and scene, Ed teaches Mary about tattooing and Mary affirms Ed's nature as an artist, AND, Ed and Stede still haven't made up yet, so we get some delicious conflict there too.

and to finish the list, my favorite fic in the entire fandom which I have rec'd like twice already but will never STOP rec'ing because it WRECKS ME EVERY TIME -

this tired world could change by gangnamstiles

IT HAS EVERYTHING.... EVERYTHING.... i love this fic so fucking much okay?!?!?! Modern AU, miserable business man Stede is drowning in his day to day life when he meets Edward Teach, mechanic, handsome guy, savior who offers him a cigarette (and uh former hitman for Spanish Jackie's mob). They fall in love, but oh boy is there a lot for them to cope with along the way.

I LOVE THIS FIC. I love this fic. I found it about halfway through and screamed through every single update with one of my friends, literally read this fic on the cycling machine at the gym and jumped for every update as soon as they posted because i LOVE this fic so much okay, and now that the author is posting some extras i am living again.

And this is my OFMD Bookmarks on AO3 in case anyone wants more. My bookmarking philosophy is "anything I know I'm going to want to read again, put here"

thank you anon for letting me spend an hour revisiting all these fics I love

[luizazemi]

I closed my eyes and I saw everything 5/???

Less wait, more Metkayina folklore!

A concert under the stars sounds very romantic to me. Also a very important device in the plot of that movie really needed to be addressed before being randomly shoved at our faces as if the characters knew what it was. Anyway that's the plot for today's chapter of my Avatar : The Way of Water fic guys, thanks for following !

[Title after this song]

Still the brother did not resurface, and the men grew weary. Strings and drums rumbled in discontent. For some reason, the youngest brother was still looking overboard. Part of him could not believe his brother had just vanished beneath the waves – part of him could still feel him, and there was no sign of danger around. So he looked at his remaining brother, before he leapt.

The music stopped dramatically, even if Neteyam did not have the critical distance to notice the effect. He felt on board with these men, and now under water with the young brother, and because he knew how uncanny the feeling was, for the first, his arm shook a little – and Aonung’s hand felt it, although there was no telling it was from fear or excitement.

The youngest brother stayed still for a moment, baffled with the submarine landscape. The dark mass that seemed to threaten them only hid a world as clear as theirs, brighter even, coloured with seagrass, shells, and fishes. Sure, he couldn’t see the bottom, but mesmerising plants and minerals led down the way. And the young brother knew that a greater force lay in these waters, and he understood why his oldest had got lost in its contemplation. However, he was surprised to not feel any distress about his brother’s loss. He felt shameful upon this realisation and wondered if he deserved to return to his eldest, less carefree brother. For the first time, his clear, hopeful notes grew a sadder tone.

At this moment, unbeknownst to him until them, the great dark shape under him started to move. His breath shaking, the brother looked for somewhere to hide, but deep inside, he knew there was no hiding – he was already too deep into the sea’s mysteries.

The shape, the greatest fish moving under water the young Na’vi ever beheld, stopped in front of him. Its enormous eyes stared into the bewildered eyes of the Na’vi. Then the creature sang, and its song was the wisest.

It sang about his brother who went to Eywa. It sang about how the Na’vi wanted to hold the secrets of the sea and was so adamant in his quest and confident in his capacities that he forgot Na’vi air didn’t flow in water currents. It sang about the brother fading away, and how surprised the creature was, for its kind didn’t often see earthly creatures in the deep sea.

When the creature sang, the strings were mute – only the dance and the rhythm of the musician persisted, as a response to the rhythm of the rolling waves nearby. The drums were as regular as the second brother had been reckless, and the attendees were as captivated as the second brother had been careless.

In its song the creature recognized the youngest brother as a better-advised explorer than his oldest. The creature would not let him meet Eywa as of yet. For life is short, and the sea is long, and by the Tulkun way none shall ever take a life, or let it be taken when it could be avoided. And the creature sang, wisely but gently, that it shall lead the brave Na’vi to rest.

So the strings resurfaced, and with them the great guardian of the sea, Tulkun they were called, the Na’vi on its back, and many other Tulkun joined along, carrying the Olo’eyktan and his clan. And as they swam across the currents, Na’vi noticed how easy the crossing was for those who let themselves flow with the water, and they hated their pride that believed they could conquer the sea. They closed their eyes to breathe the sprays, and vowed to become as free and quiet as their guides.

The Tulkun left them on a rocky formation at the swimming distance of their village. As the Olo’eyktan swore they would always see them as brothers, because for the loss of their brother, they had found many more, the solemn harmony was restored. And to honour their words, Tulkun and Mektayina built, rock by rock, the everlasting monument to their loyalty.

One for the mindfulness of the youngest, who had faced his fears to save the tribe; one for the responsibility of the oldest, watching the reef; and one for the courage of the second son, turned to the open sea.

As she recited, the string-player turned to the sea as well.

  “Beheld the shapes standing out on the shore

  And pause, before your heart risks to explore

  Old is the reef and older is the sea

  The Three Brothers are watching over thee”

And indeed, Neteyam beheld, barely visible from the sandbank, and still much further than the reef barrier, three monumental dark shapes cut into the purple mantle of the sky. With amusement, he noticed that one was much smaller than the others, probably leaning towards the depths, while the other two stood, magnified, one towards the sea, the other towards the shore.

The whistle resonated again. At the same time, the musician went back to their rhythmical gait. The reciter held her stringed box against her chest, freed her feet from the sand and her beads from the rocks. With a sincere smile, she joined the musician, and started clapping her hands in yet another rhythm. The clapping settled naturally, like an organic extension of the previous one. In turn, the attendees took it up. They tapped their hands, their thighs, their chests, all in perfect harmony.

Finally, a chant rose from the crowd. The females’ voices flew higher than the males’, and Neteyam recognized part of the tale the bead girl had recited. She was not singing, but encouraging the musician with their part, which was becoming more and more challenging, and yet more and more covered by the chorus, a cry of sheer power and joy. And although he did not dare to join, Neteyam felt warmth in his chest. And as he turned to Aonung he discovered the boy had joined the chant, and Neteyam felt warmth on his face as well, and he preferred to look away.