#the next part is already typed up so stay tuned~

[outoutdamnspark]

I HEARD OMEGAVERSE AND I MUST HEAR YOUR HEADCANONS OR WHATEVER YOU HAVE ABOUT IT!

Aaaa it’s one of my favorite tropes, and I just get stupid excited with anything about it, and to hear one of my favorite writers does too aaaaaaa

- noodle

*ascends*

Dude, I fucking love omegaverse!!! I have an in-progress fic with platonic a/b/o, featuring dad!Warden Ingo if you want some world building in action, but please allow me to regale you with my personal headcanons!

(I had to split this up into pieces because it was getting kind of long, so I'm gonna keep the first few entries SFW and probably do a separate thing for any NSFW~)

and shgkjhdsjhg bro, buddy, honey, what do you mean one of your favorite writers?!! 😭 no you!!

(cw: one brief mention of children. SFW)

Part 1: Biology

Ω I don't personally like writing anything that portrays all alphas as aggressive assholes that can't take no for an answer. Likewise, I don't like writing when omegas are portrayed as helpless or incapable of making their own decisions - in any situation but especially when in heat. (It's a writing preference, is all.) I also don't particularly like versions of omegaverse where omegas are treated like second class citizens, some kind of rare commodity, or just outright property. All three secondary genders are equally prevalent in the world, all are treated equally (minus the usual shitty people, of course), and accommodations for each are the norm.

Ω Betas have heightened senses just like omegas and alphas, but they aren't nearly as affected. It's a bit of a misconception that betas can't smell an omega's heat or sense an alpha's rut - they can, their instincts just don't react the same way as the other two secondary genders might. This is so, in the event of an emergency or someone else's instincts going haywire, there's a reliably neutral and calming option for an alpha or an omega to seek aid from. Generally, betas have a pretty even disposition and often take on roles of protection or peace-keeping - or things like daycare and social work.

Ω In my head, secondary genders are actually a residual biological trait - leftover from previous generations that dealt with harsher conditions and fewer resources dwindling the populations. (Probably in places like Hisui, I'd imagine.) Back then, the secondary genders would insure there were always at least a handful of members in a community that could potentially produce new offspring; adolescents would present as a specific secondary gender relative to their environment. (Like those frogs that can switch between male and female depending on the population. ...Kinda.) Too many betas and not enough "breeding pairs"? Boom. Half a generation winds up presenting as omegas. Food scarce and you need stronger (and more "disposable") members to go forage and hunt in potentially dangerous areas far away from the rest of the group? Oops! All alphas! Nowadays, with modern cities and different pack/community dynamics, it's honestly just a roll of the dice as to what you present as. Genetics can play a part in it, as well as environment still, but since it's residual now, there's no longer a set pattern.

Ω (Brief mention of babies and pregnancy.) No mpreg unless we're counting trans individuals - simply because "traditional" mpreg in general has always made me a little uncomfortable, and also... how??? do I even begin to make that work here? I choose not to try. Anyway. Basically, if you have the right parts and they function normally, then you can have pups. Yes, alphas are more likely to get somebody else pregnant, and omegas are more likely to get pregnant (especially during ruts/heats), but it still varies from person to person for the most part. Any gender can get any other gender pregnant, any gender can be pregnant, and any primary gender can present as any secondary gender. The possibilities are endless!

💥💥💥

Next up! Heat/Rut Cycles (SFW)

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

"Sing to Me?"

Alastor x Reader (QP)

Yawning, you trudged out of the bathroom, drying your hair loosely with a towel. You were warm from your shower and the filling meal you'd had a little while earlier. Alastor was probably the best chef you knew, a fact you were extremely proud of. Even if your preferred form of protein was banned from the hotel premises, Alastor was always able to make do with what he had.

Despite it being late at night, you grabbed your laptop (a very rare, not VoxTech one) to work on some paperwork. You'd promised your boss to get these spreadsheets done, and you weren't one to shirk on your promises. Yawning again, you tuned your old-fashioned radio before settling down with your laptop. The radio had been a gift from Alastor. Many late nights had been spent listening to his broadcasts. They'd always been a comfort, even before you'd signed a contract with him.

Some light jazz filtered through the static, one of your favorite songs. Alastor knew you were listening. Smiling lightly, you started typing away.

The music was occasionally interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream or a sharp whimper. Your smile never left, humming along while Alastor had his fun. Part of you was vaguely aware that the radio show was now being broadcast all throughout Hell, that you didn't even need the radio, but you liked it, so it stayed on.

The spreadsheets were simple enough. With the radio in the background, you were able to focus just enough that the job came naturally. In the back of your mind, you started going over the next day’s schedule.

You'd ended up zoning out while you typed, not even noticing how the radio switched to static and then turned off by itself.

A single knock preceded Alastor's entrance, enough to break you from your thoughts. You were quick to notice the faint blood splatter on the sole of Alastor’s shoes, the only evidence of his previous activities.

“My dear, you know how I abhor those vile machines,” Alastor reprimanded, walking and starting to subconsciously organize your room. A chair was pushed in, a painting adjusted so it was even, the bottom drawer of your dresser lightly closed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “I need it to do my job, Al. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a piece of electronic equipment that's not created by VoxTech?”

“All the more reason to get rid of it.” Alastor walked over to the window and stared out at it. He was a little lost in thought himself, it would seem.

Typing a line, you said, “I liked your broadcast.”

“I'm glad.”

He was quiet. Something was wrong. Your grin died down, pushing your laptop to the side. Alastor’s smile was still there, but dimmer. Sadder.

“Al? You okay?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, dearest,” Alastor replied, a slight edge in his voice.

You wanted to push. To get him to talk to you. But you knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, he'd just get upset or shut down more.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if we'd met while we were alive,” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, obviously that would've been impossible in the first place, considering I wasn't even born when you died, but I just wonder about it.”

“What a ridiculous thing to wonder about!” Alastor laughed a little. “As you said, it would have been impossible. And why think about being alive when we have all of death to enjoy?” His tone lightened a bit. “There is so much entertainment to be had! Life was quite dull, comparably.”

You wondered for a moment, trying to figure out where to lead the conversation. “Where did you live, when you were alive? You already know where I lived when I was alive, it's only fair I know where you lived.”

Alastor’s grin softened a bit, still sad, but with a hint of happiness in there. Nostalgia, if you had to guess. “New Orleans, Louisiana. I lived there with my mother. I had a delightful job as a radio host.”

“You're still a radio host,” you teased playfully. “What was it like, back then?”

“Ah, it was… entertaining.” He didn't say anything more, lost in thought as he leaned on his cane. You were vaguely aware that you were the only person who ever saw him like this. Alastor wore his smile like armor, guarding himself with a nonchalant facade, but very rarely, behind closed doors, the guard would fall, just for a little while.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask another question, Alastor spoke, “You seem quite tired, my dear. Maybe it is time we part ways for the evening.”

Pressing your lips together, you knew he was right. You really should be getting to bed, but you were worried about Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this before, so it was impossible to guess what he'd do once he was alone.

“You really should learn to hide your emotions better.” Alastor turned suddenly, chucking to himself. “There is nothing to worry about, darling. I am perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, you say that, but for some reason I don't believe you.” Stifling a yawn, you gave Alastor a look.

“Now, now, don't be like that.” Alastor came and sat on the edge of the bed, using his magic to set the laptop on top of the dresser. “What can I do to convince you to sleep?”

Leaning back, you thought for a moment. When the idea hit you, your face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but you swallowed the anxiety. He did ask, after all.

“Sing to me?”

Alastor laughed, causing you to glare. “Again with the ridiculous ideas!” When your face fell subconsciously, Alastor hesitated.

When he didn't say anything, you accepted the fact that it was a ridiculous request. Assuming he'd leave the room on his own accord, you used your magic to turn out the lights as you slid under the covers of your bed. You never did get all those spreadsheets done like you'd wanted.

“Parlez-moi d’amour.”

Alastor’s slightly-static-filled voice was quiet. His eyes faintly glowed in the dark and you watched him with wide eyes.

“Redites-moi des choses tendres.”

Smiling softly, you sank into the bed, closing your eyes and allowing Alastor’s comforting voice to wash over you.

“Votre beau discours /

“Mon cœur n'est pas las de l'entendre /

“Pourvu que toujours /

“Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes /

“Je vous aime.”

((The song))

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader)

tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier

a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

enjoy!!!

word count: 5.4K

chapter one: see you tonight?

“…Fuck, just like that-“

That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.

Ehem. Lord Kenobi.

And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.

Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.

Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.

You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.

“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.

“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.

Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.

Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 

And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.

"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 

"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 

Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 

"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”

You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 

You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.

Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?

You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.

"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.

"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."

Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”

“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.

“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 

You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."

He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 

"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"

He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"

"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.

"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.

It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."

"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.

"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"

"Just like now."

"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 

"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"

"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 

"I could never claim otherwise." 

That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.

That was it. That was the turning point of the night.

“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 

You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”

Now that’s, how you ended up here.

However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.

(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)

It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)

“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.

“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.

When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.

“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.

“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.

“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.

He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.

You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.

He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.

In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  

His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.

“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 

Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.

You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”

He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 

"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.

You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.

He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.

He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.

“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”

“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.

“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”

He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.

Remember when he said “ruin”?

He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.

“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”

Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.

He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.

Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.

“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.

This is why you ended up here.

“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.

“I want this to last, dear.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.

Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.

You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.

Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –

His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.

Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.

Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.

“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.

“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.

It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.

When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.

Your limb stays in the spot he left it.

He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.

“Obi Wan-I’m c-“

He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”

Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 

That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 

He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.

“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”

You giggle. “I agree.”

“We should’ve done this before.”

Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.

But he has a point, too.

In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.

“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.

He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?

“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 

"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Lord Kenobi.

"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 

The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 

In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 

Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.

[r3starttt]

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME | 03

fic M.list | read this or DNI

an: pretty short BUT it’s because nsfw part it’s gonna be long soooo I’ll do it separately, stay tuned y’all 😍☝️

"Is it better to speak or to die?" Your mom says, gently running her fingers all over your arm. Your dad, on the other side, kept his gaze fully fixated on your mom, who kept on reading a German novel.

It was raining, the type of rain to male everyone want to sleep, the one that could be perceived as white noise. Outside there was barely sunlight, the ambience was cold and the sky was all gray. You found comfort in it.

Lights went off, all at once, no warning at all. "You know we...you can always talk to us, yeah?" Your dad whispers, taking you out of that trance you've been since yesterday. Do they know? Does she know?

You simply nodded, reciprocating the sheepish smile your parents were giving you as a sort of comfort you kept ignoring you needed.

-

You can feel her eyes all over your body. The sound of her legs moving around the water, accompanied by the birds chirping, it makes you nauseus.

She wasn't here yesterday, and you simply could not stop thinking of her, what she did, and with who? Why not you and why, no matter how hard you tried, it couldn't be you the one.

If it wasn't because of the sunglasses you'd be out of here in less then a second, hiding in your room and pretending to not notice when she arrives home or leaves, pretending to not hear her muffled whines right next to you every night, pretending to not take a quick look outside your balcony whenever you hear her swimming, or pretending to not slick your ear to the bathroom door whenever water starts running. Because ironically, you do hate her, and it seems like the longer she stays the less you can handle her.

"Gotta go to town in a little bit to pick some things up" Abby con barely finish her sentence when you're already replying. Your voice elicts a smile on her face, pretty cocky as usual "Oh, I can go. I'm not doing anything today"

She just shrugges, taking her legs out of the water "then why don't we go together?" Your elbows act before you let them, forcing you to stand almost right when her voice is heard. You hated her for this.

-

You kept remembering the first time you brought her her. It was impossible to not regret it, after all it felt like suicide. You've done this to yourself just to not be a stubborn daughter for once.

It's strange, even when she first came you knew something was different, that's what lead you to act different for once. Maybe it wasn't you but her the problem.

You opened your mouth, letting her place the cigarette on it. She'd been making you wait for a while and your hands were busy, so far this was the only decent thing she's done for you, and it's not even on purpose. The lighter came closer to your face, and so did she. You haven't seen her this close, it's probably the first time you get to see what colors her eyes are. And even when it takes seconds, the contact it's enough for you, and you can swear you feel the warmth coming out of her body as well.

"I thought you didn't smoke?" You can see her siluette walking vaguely around you, taking her bicycle again "I don't" The defensiveness in her voice, you reciprocated her foolish smile.

"So, world War two, huh?" The metal of the bicycle had barely hit the railing that protected the omenage when she was already walking away from you, again. "No, this is world War one"

A 'huh' brushes past her lips. Abby restes her elbows on the railing, letting out a small hiss at the warmth of it. How stupid, you think.

"I don't even know about the.. battle of Piavé?" Her sandals hit the ground at her every step, hands running along the railing. "Píave, one of the most lethal battles of World War one" your hands rest on your stomach, crossed to support each other. And even though your eyes are looking at the statue in front of you, you can still feel her essence neare you, eating you alive with just the eyes.

"Is there anything you don't know?" You knew for a fact she meant to be nice right now, but you felt like putting some force on it, some sort of invisible barrier, because once you let her have her chance with you, you wouldn't stop her. And it wasn't meant to be, it couldn't. "I know nothing Abby"

You shocked your head, walking on the opposite side to where she kept resting. Taking a long deep drag of the cigarette "is that so? Because you seem to know more than anybody else around here". You both had sunglasses on, but even like that every time your glances coincided, the feeling was so strong it felt palpable.

"If you only knew how little I know about the things that matter" there's a sarcastic tone on your voice, unintentional but real. "What things that matter?" She clicked her tongue, extending her arms so the palms of her hands could be fully resting on the metal fence. "You know what things". Your arms crossed over the fence, hiding your face in between.

"Why're you telling me this? The smells of the cigarette suddenly became unbearable. "'Cause I thought you should know?" Even though she's away from you her laugh is still audible enough "Because you thought I should know?" There's a hidden tone on her voice you just can't decipher, and it causes you such a painfull feeling each time it appears, like you're the one doing it all wrong, like you're the adult. "'Cause I wanted you to know?" You tried to fix it, immediately regretting it.

You both walked to what was left ot the fence, each on one side. You kept repeating your las sentence, how stupid it sounded, how stupid you are. Until you're face to face again with her, and you feel so mature, so understood.

Her left hands is placed on her waist, one knee slightly flexioned and the other hand taking the cigarette away from her mouth as she lets the smoke fly to your face. She seemes hesitant, nothing she's ever been with around you but only when your mom's around. She's afraid.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You do the same, admiring how the smoke passes through her face so gracefully. Quietly nodding as her eyes wander all over your face. Have you get it?

Before you realized your head was resting on her chest, the only thing visible now were both of your feet against each other "Shouldn't have said anything" Abby moves her free hand to your back, making small circles over it as she heard your statement. "Just pretend you never did"

The moment you threw your cigarette on the floor she did It too, gently pushing you away. The sound of the sandals brushing the pavement was comforting, human, and it meant you two were, after all, the same in some sort of way.

"What does that mean? We're on speaking terms, but not really?" You mock. "It means we can't talk about those kinds of things, okay?" You don't know when but at some point your teeth were biting on your inner lips, painfully hard. You couldn't look at her, she felt like someone you should fear, and you still hated her. "We just can't"

She gave you one last pat on the shoulder, it felt wrong how motherly she was. Maybe you were the one wrong after all. You just waited for her to get her sheets, unsure still of what they were.

Maybe it was karma, they were all a disorder and not whorth the wait, or that's what you heard her say as she walked towards you, clearly annoyed.

-

"The Alpi Orobie, water comes straight down from there"

This was your form of apologizing, taking her to your place, a small lake away from everything and everyone. She seemed to enjoy it.

It was quiet besides the birds chirping and the water running. After the rain the sun comes lighter than ever, good timing you guess. It wasn't practically hot, just nice enough.

"I like the way you say things. Don't know why you're always putting yourself down, though" she whispers. Abby really wanted to make things better, she felt the same way you felt for her. But it felt wrong to be the mote mature between both, acting like the stupid one just to get you. She was trying to fix this, and it was torture that you simply never gave her the chance to, no matter what she did or said you always had something smarter to make her sound lame. "So you won't, I guess?"

"You're really that afraid of what I think?" You bite your inner lips again, tasting the mix of blood and saliva mixing on your tongue. Simply nodding once again, dragging your feet to get closer to her until both yours and her fingers are touching. "You're making it hard for me" "I know"

Quietly, grabbing her hand you drag her to a small piece covered in grass. She'd give you enough signals to take what you needed of her, at least for today, and you weren't planning on waisitng it.

Her whole body is covered by the sunlight and you swear she's never looked this good. The strands of her hair gracefully dancing along the breeze passing by her face. Her white blouse covered in wet, letting you have the most delicious sight of her body.

Not even sitting and you have her on top of you. Middle finger running over your lips and your tongue containing on its space, painfully. You wanted- needed to suck her fingers, to feel every inch of her body, and it was torture to not have it.

Abby knew what you wanted, she was craving it as much as you. But for the first time in her whole life, she'd losen control about everything, and you were the one behind it. The reason she's been touching herself till sleep every night, the reason she even considered to stay for months in Italy. You had made of her and her life a chaos, and somehow that made her hate you as much as you hated her. It was hilarious how she even ended like this, whit someone like you.

Her lips pressed on yours, two tender kisses that she despised more than anything in this life. Not because of you but because of her being the one to initiate them and you the ones to cut them off.

And it's not that you wanted to, but this was driving you insane, because it felt like you've imagined, but somehow you've finally made conscious about what this stupid kisses mean, for both.

There's a trail of saliva connecting your lips as she pushes you away, so abruptly it almost hurst. Not only physically but mentally, making you wonder if she even meant it in the first place. "Better now?" Her cocky voice makes you want to punch her right in those lips until she can't ever speak again. You remember why you hate her since the moment you ever saw her or heard her voice.

Not fair, she gets what she wants until she doesn't want it anymore. You're just one more of her interests that will eventually fade away.

Without thinking you push her back, making her lay on the grass. It pinchs on your bare legs the moment you sit on top of her, not even the nature is being pity with you. She reciprocates the kiss tho.

"Mmm-mmm" you hear, feeling the vibrations on your lips and her hands on your waist one more, begging you tu move away and stop this. To pretend it didn't happen like what she said some hours ago.

You hate yourself for this. But you obbey. Abby repeatedly says 'no' pulling away from you. Her hand dances over her lips, getting rid of what was left from your desperation on her face. "We should go"

"Why?" You tease, opening your legs on one last attempt to get her at least for one minute more. "I know myself, okay? And we've been good" her hands both place on your knees, palm pressed tightly on top of your skin, closing your legs. "I wanna be good"

-

You've ran away the instant you noticed the blood running down your noise to your lips. It's by far the grossest hemorrhage you've got. Yet nothing unusual, just the mix of stress and warmth being too overwhelming for your body.

Abby tried not to pay attention to it, or worry. But she needed to see you were good, she needed to take care of you, or just help you get clean. It felt like she was the reason of it, but the sight of your parents in fron of you, so focused on whatever thing they were debating about. She simply couldn't, it would be either too obvious or not the best idea for you.

She feared to let you down like this, but also hated to be the reason behind it all on the first place. She's never regretted something this horrifying in her whole life, ever.

She'd fallen in love with you at her worst moment, and feared more than anything to hurt you, to have any sort of effect in you. Because you had a whole life ahead of you and she simply didn't.

-

Traitor, I'm such a pussy, please forgive me, don't avoid me. I'm sorry? I'm sorry, can't stand that you hate me, forgive me, what did I do wrong?

"Can't stand the silence, need to speak to you" were the words you wrote for her, on a random notebook you sometimes uses as a sort of journal. She was awful. "Grow up, see you at midnight" she replied. You were awful.

-

12:00 am

Crickets chirping, empty dark blue sky and countable stars decorating the ambience accompanied by the moonlight. Romantic to say the least.

She was smoking, you've realized the reason behind it. "Come inside" you whispered, hoping it was loud enough for her to hear but enough to catch anyone else's attention. Which means, trying to not let your parents hear you begging her to let you fuck her, at least once.

She tossed the cigarette violently, almost as if she had resentment for you still. Which she simply couldn't.

Sitting at the end of your old bed she finally spoke to you, not verbally but vy extending her arms so you could crawl to her. Abby smelled like pine and cigarette, it reminded you of alcohol. Is suits her.

"Can I kiss you?" Abby's hands move to the sides of your cheeks, making enough force against them so you couldn't move if given the opportunity "yes please" you whispered back, already opening your mouth. She pressed her lips on yours, making her tongue palm against yours deliciously. The sound of your saliva mixing was the only thing heard in the room besides the clothes rubbing against each other.

Abby laughed, breaking the kiss to stand up and walk to the side of the bed. The door slapped at it, so hard the floor vibrated. You stated at the whole scene in amusement, hoping for once in your life your parents where in this same situation so they wouldn't care "fuck you" you screamed silently at her.

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

Yandere! Serial killer x reader pt 2

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Mentions of stalking. Part 1 is here part 3 is here. Read the note at the end plz, ty!

You’re joking.

Your Uber was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way you're taking the bus this late and staying here is already out of the question. You’re most definitely not spending another twenty dollars on another shammy lift either. As you contemplate your predicament, you can hear the aggressive typing of a phone's keyboard as Malika writes a strongly worded review.

“Dammit! What the hell’re we supposed to do now? There’s absolutely no way I’m staying here,” you’re all out of options, maybe the best thing is just to wait here until your school bus comes back.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not-“ you cut her off before she can finish. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? You guys aren’t willing to take any of the other options presented so, all you can do is sit and wait. Look on the bright side, you’ve waited almost a full year to be here; no guy should ruin it for you. She thinks long and hard about it before lighting up again.

“You know what, fine. But if we stay you’re entering that competition and you’re gonna win,”

So here you are now. Scrambling around like a headless chicken with a stray killer on the loose. Let’s take it back some shall we?

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our animal Freak do Sheek costume competition! Our contestants have worked all year round perfecting there costumes in order to win our $800 dollar cash prize. Here’s how it works, you’ll-,”

You tune out the announcer in favor of the sound of your beating heart. You’ve never been this nervous before! You’ve done this hundreds of times and always came up on top, so why? I’ll tell you why; that same egotistical show off of an axe murder is entering the competition too.

He stands there staring at you silent and unmoving. The only thing that’s different about him is that the paper mache mask from earlier had been replaced with the face of the person who bumped into you. Man, he really thought all of this out didn’t he? You’re brought back to earth by the opening of the curtain revealing you and the rest of the contestants. The crowd cheers in excitement and this alone reminds you as to why you’re here. Malika as well as the rest of your class sit in the audience cheering you on. Hm? Your teachers not here. Whatever, it’s probably the only night he could legally get drunk at school and not have to deal with the repercussions. After the modeling is over you all recoup on stage and watch as the audience places their votes in the ballot box. Squirming in anticipation and nervous sweat beading down your forehead, you anxiously await the answer.

“The results are in! The winner is, drum roll please…” your breath stops and you can’t contain your jitters.

“Mr Axe Murder!” of course! Malika and your classmates give you a sadden smile but you don’t return it. In fact, you give them the brightest one yet. All these years you’ve been waiting for someone to match your talent, sick and tired of always expecting the best and reaching it. You needed a challenge, a thrill; and he gave it to you. Standing next to him on the podium you smile up at him. Sure he was an asshole before, but he deserved it. Looking at the camera as the three first place winners are to take a picture, he swings his axe up, presumably in a posing manner. How wrong were you? Just after the flash he brings his weapon down and with one clean swipe, lops off the head of the rando in third place.

You freeze in shock. This has to be some kinda gag, a prank or something. Everyone else screams and flees as he turns over to the announcer and gives him the same fate as your fellow contestant. The others dash off the stage and he walks towards you, reaching out to grab you. Before he can, Malika jumps on stage and drags you away faster than ever. All you see from behind your shoulder is the struggle of the security guards to hold down his hulking frame.

“What in the absolute fuck was that!” How the hell are you supposed to know!? Next thing you know you just got back into the fun of the night when an undercover serial killer decapitates someone right in front of you.

“Wait… didn’t you say that you saw that same guy hacking into someone else?” …oh. my. god. How could you be so stupid? I mean all the signs were in front of you and you ignored it! He has their face on his for crying out loud! Wait a minute. Face? You turn to Malika and the realization hits you both. Just as you're about to speak, siren blairs throughout the festival.

“Attention! The killer known as the “Mask Maker” has made his way into the festival and has incited a rampage. It is recommended that everyone stays calm and evacuate the premises immediately. I repeat, a killer is on the loose!”

Fuck! You should’ve taken the bus! There’s nothing you can do as you rush towards the exit of the building. Pushing your way past the hoards of people trying to escape this hell house. It’s too late though. The crazed lunatic has already scoped out the area and has started slashing anyone he can get to. He makes eye contact with you and suddenly stops his pursuit of the other patrons. Sprinting his way towards you. This time, it’s your turn to grab Malika and run as fast as you can, running into the first fun house you see.

Making your way inside, you duck and cover into the darkness as you hear the door shut and lock behind you. Venturing deeper into the funhouse into a mock corn field. Malika lets out a shriek as she turns your head and there you see it. There you find the mangled body of your teacher forced into the outfit of a discarded scarecrow, face missing. While surprising, she just alerted him to where your location was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but what the fuck is going on,” she cried out. You’re trapped, a killer is targeting you and you don’t know why and all of your colleagues are dead. How are you gonna escape this!?

Split up? Bait him out? Call for help?

“That’s all some white people shit,” in times of need you can always count on her abrasiveness to lighten the mood. You let out a slight giggle, maybe at her brashness or maybe out of anxiousness, you couldn’t tell the difference. Just then the door clicks open and the lights flicker on. You duck further down into the fake stocks of corn and stay as silent as possible. You watch as he makes his way into the next room, but as you sprint up in the opposite direction I hand grabs at Malika's hair. He attempts to slash at her arm but only manages to make a very minimal cut after you picked up a stray rake and bashed him over the head with it. You scoot past him and run out of the maze and back into Main Street, him right on you heels.

Just in the nick of time, you two are able to make it out of the festival when the gates closed. He banged and swung at the gates but you two weren’t sticking around to see if he’d break through. Running between the parking lots looking for anyone or anything you can use to get the hell out of here. Just then your phone dings with a notification. It says you Ubers right in front of you . You whip your head around in delight only for the smile on your face to drop. Your Uber arrived a while ago,you were the ones that were late. He’s hanging out of the crashed car, blood dripping everywhere and face gone. Also leaned up against the car is Gill and the harlot he decided to give your friend up for; or what’s left of them. In the corner of your eye you can see the tiniest grin spread across your friend's face. You decide not to question it as you have more important things to do. You two agreed that your best option was to make a mad dash to the bust stop where at least one person would notice you.

Making it there you both pull out your phones and with the remaining power they have left, call the police and notify them about where you abouts. The roads are empty and it looks like a ghost town. Overwhelmed with everything you break down in the middle of the ghost town. At this point you’ve accepted your fate and thought there was no point in fighting.

“Malika, I just wanted you to know that after whatever happens tonight, I love you,” you look up at her with tears in your eyes and a sad smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she stares at you, silent. Her own tears forming and sliding down her cheeks as she drops to her knees and hugs you close. You two lay there sobbing for a good while before she pulls away and shouts.

“I can’t do this anymore!” huh?

“I- I’m sorry, (Y/N) I don’t know what came over me! I’ve always been so jealous of you when I had no right to be. I wasn’t thinking straight. I'm so, so sorry! This is all my fault,” what? What is she talking about?

“Woah, woah; what’re you talking about?”

“All of this! I knew he was coming. I-… I knew he’d be after you,” you stare at her confused before giving a short giggle, but this isn’t time for jokes.

“It’s him (Y/N),” she can’t be serious right now.

“I am. I knew all along; that’s why I dragged you here. That’s why I wanted you to go to that school. That’s why I wanted- I wanted this to happen,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?” That’s how all of this started. By being nice. By being a decent human being. You don’t remember much about the school; you choose not to. You barely made it through the first semester there. All because of him. Keegan Krane. A man of the arts just like yourself, though, he focused his talents on something more traditional. Wherever he went there was at least a pencil and some acrylics tucked neatly in that tote bag he carried around. He was amazing at what he did! Best of his class, featured in shows all around the area, the whole nine yards. So, it’s reasonable for you to question why he decided to come here when he could be at the top.

“I don’t need to be at the top,” he’d tell you. Eyes locked on yours, his intense wavering in his intense gaze.

“Besides, if I would’ve never met you, I don’t know what I’d do,” ever the charmer he was. Until he wasn’t. You see, Keegan wasn’t who you thought he was. At first he was just some random guy who went to your school. Then he was some random guy who you shared almost all your classes with. Then he was the guy who sat next to you in most of them. He slowly turned into your acquaintance, then your friend, best friend, then your boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

You’ve always thought he was smart. He knew almost every painting by their name to the artist to what materials they used. He loved literature and poems and would often write them in his free time. He could cook better than anyone you’ve ever known and was exactly your type. He was perfect; maybe just a little too much.

You remember the exact day when the notes started showing up, right before college in senior year. You always wondered where and who they’d come from but anytime you’d ask, you’d never get a sufficient answer. Malika said to enjoy all the attention from your secret admirer but you couldn’t help to be creeped out. They knew what candies you liked, gave you little figurines from your favorite shows and even knew what route you took home.

Over time the notes became increasingly disturbing and the feeling of eyes on your back lingered throughout the day; no matter if you were in school or not. After the discovery of a mutilated carcass of what you assumed was a dead rat with a birds face, you went to the police. Fuck going the principal, all he would ever say was “we’ll check the cameras,” and “kids these days are always to shy to confess,”. Yea right, that was a confession enough, one of a future psychopath.

The notes turned into drawings, drawings turned into pictures, pictures turned into the mangled faces of unfortunate creatures, those turned into breaking and entering; stealing panties, used toothbrushes, the hair from your hairbrush, and that turned into a criminal case. Everything stopped after you went to the police, they most likely knew and were too afraid they’d get caught. Oh how wrong you were. Because that same person followed you to where you were now.

…………………………………………………………………....................

Just after, the man of the hour makes his way from out of the bushes, axe in hand and dragging the dead body of an officer.

“It’s him, (Y/N),” he removes his mask to reveal the face you seen in your darkest dreams.

“It’s Keegan,”

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of this. Ik the plot twist is a little confusing but it’ll all make sense in the third installment, trust. It may come out on Halloween it might not, I’m tryin 😭. I wasn’t confident in this but like I said it’ll all come together later. My Ao3 has been created and imma work on moving my posts there too. This was a little long so if you’re still here ty! Bye guys ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

-Love, Sosa ❤️

[finnsbubblegum]

Becoming Mrs. Miller {Part 3: The Proposal} (Joel Miller x Reader)

Pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, use of (y/n), reader as mother figure, domestic joel, period talk (lmk if i missed any)

Summary: It had been a few months since you moved in with Joel and Sarah, you were slowly  becoming a mother figure to Sarah. Joel realized how much he loved you and asked you to marry him.

Words count: 1k A/N: Hi! This is a part 3 of Becoming Mrs. Miller. But it can also be read as a standalone. I might make more chapters too! Stay tuned and hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

It had been three months since you moved in with Joel and Sarah. You were washing the dishes and you heard Sarah scream from upstairs. You dropped the plate and ran upstairs. 

“What’s wrong?” You tried to catch your breath.

“Baby? Open the door. What’s going on?” Joel was already there knocking the bathroom door.

“I want (y/n)!” Sarah cried.

Joel gestured to you to talk to her. He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall.

“Sarah? Darling? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” You moved closer to the door so she could hear you.

“I-I think I’m dying.” She cried.

You guessed she just got her first period. You chuckled and looked at Joel.

“I think I left the tap open. Why don’t you help me turn it off?” Joel understood this was women's thing so he went to the kitchen.

“Sarah? Will you open the door for me?” You held the door handle.

“Is dad there?” 

“No. He’s downstairs.”

Sarah unlocked the door and let you in. She sat on the toilet seat and showed you her underwear.

“Am I gonna die?” She looked at you with tears welling in her eyes.

“No, baby. You just got your first period.” You smiled and crouched to be the same height as her.

“What’s that?”

“It’s uh- It’s normal. Every woman has it every month. As a woman, we bleed for a few days every month. Sometimes it’s 5 days or 7 days. It depends. Then the cycle goes on, and you will get it again next month.”

“So I’m not gonna die, right?”

“No, honey. You’re not gonna die. You’re a woman now.” You chuckled and caressed her back.

“So, if you get your period, you wear this.” You took your pads from the cabinet and passed it to her.

“What is this?” Sarah got confused.

“It’s a sanitary pad. It’s to absorb the blood. You wear it like this.” You taught Sarah how to wear it. 

“There’s actually other types like tampons and others. But I prefer this one. I can buy you the others and see which one you feel comfortable with.” 

Sarah nodded.

“Does your stomach hurt?” You hold Sarah's shoulder.

“Kind of.” She squeezed her stomach.

“Okay. Why don’t you lay on your bed and I’ll get you something.” You tapped her shoulder and left to the kitchen.

“Everything’s good?” Joel was worried.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Sarah just got her first period. She’s an adult now.” You smirked.

“Oh.” Joel put his hands on his pocket awkwardly. 

You found the medicine box and got painkillers for Sarah. 

“I gotta give her this.” You showed the painkillers to Joel and moved your way upstairs.

“Hey, here. Drink this. It’ll help relieve the pain.” You sat on the edge of Sarah’s bed. 

Sarah got up and drank the medicine you gave her. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t here. Dad would have freaked out.”

You smiled and stroked her hair.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? Find me if you need anything, allright?” You tucked in Sarah.

“Okay, good night (y/n).” Sarah closed her eyes.

“Good night.” You kissed her forehead and closed the door slowly.

You walked to your bedroom. Joel flinched and hurriedly closed the drawer beside the bed.

“Did I just catch you doing something?” You raised one of your eyebrows.

“No.” Joel’s eyes moved from side to side avoiding eye contact.

“What is it? Porn magazine?” You teased him.

“Ugh- It’s nothin’.” 

“It’s okay. I won’t force you to show me.” You laughed and made your way to the bathroom.

You took a few minutes doing your nighttime skincare before going to bed. You sighed as you climbed to bed. Joel was sitting on the bed with his hands behind his head leaning on the headboard.

“Thank you.” Joel suddenly thanked you.

“For what?” You held your head with your hands to look at him.

“For everythin’. You take care of Sarah like your own. I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t here. I would have freaked out.” 

“Sarah told me that.” You chuckled.

“She did?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Baby..” Joel’s heart was beating faster.

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you for showing up in my life. Sometimes I wish I met you sooner.” He sounded so serious so you got up into a sitting position.

“You’re beautiful, you’re kind, pure, loving, and…you’re the most perfect woman I’ve ever met. You’re like an angel that God has sent to me. And of course the sex with you is AMAZING.” He chuckled.

You giggled and your eyes were watery. You were touched by his praise.

“I don’t want to lose you. I want to keep you mine forever. I know Sarah is a lot happier since you’re around. I am too. And today, what you did to Sarah..it-it made me even sure that you will be the best mother and wife in this world.” He took your hand and kissed it.

Happy tears falling down your cheeks. You knew where this was going. Joel wiped your tears with his thumb. Joel turned to the drawer next to the bed and extended his hand to open it. He took out a navy blue velvet ring box.

You gasped and closed your mouth with both of your hands.

“Joel..” You cried.

“I was actually going to propose to you in a more romantic way. Fancy dinner, roses, balloons, and a band. Not just in our bedroom with nothin’. But I couldn’t wait anymore. I want to put a ring on your finger and make you mine forever. I love you so much. (y/n), will you marry me?” He opened the ring box to you.

“Yes!Yes! It’s always yes!” You jumped to him and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you.” Tears falling down from Joel’s eyes as he kissed you.

Joel took your left hand and put the ring on your ring finger.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You raised your hand up and admired the ring he gave you.

“Spent two hours in the store for that.” Joel put his hand on the back of his neck.

“Well, that two hours is well spent.” You smiled at him.

Joel kissed your temple, put his arms around you and laid down on the bed with you.

“So, I’m officially Mrs. Miller now?” You caressed his chest.

Joel chuckled and rested his chin on top of your head.

To be continued...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS — CH. 2

Chapter Two: Roll Up Your Sleeves

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, Angst, Fluff, Guns, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Swearing, Reader wants to sacrifice herself, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: Holy shit there are so many of you sjdfhgsk AHHHH thank you so much for all the notes and comments, I appreciate it! Here’s a little bit of info for you to understand a little bit of my thought process. In my outline, the reader is an Enneagram Type 9: The Peacekeeper. (This helps me add a little bit of depth to you so I don’t feel entirely lost when writing) if she seems “passive” or “complacent” it’s cause she wants everything to go smoothly and be without conflict. I’d like to believe there’s a little part of us that prefer to avoid tension, due to the fear of loss and separation from the people or things you love. I’ll go a little bit more in-depth about this in the story as it progresses. Hope you enjoy!

Song: evermore (feat. bon iver) by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD – 2023

BOSTON - NOON

You walk along the ruins of a long-abandoned Boston with an overpowering sense of dread. It feels like the build-up of a song in which you know the tune, the lyrics, and the beat. Strings of violins, drums, and bells ring and thump in your mind, unwanted and uncaring of how you feel. This curse of knowledge you never asked for but which you carry follows you as the four of you approach the Bostonian Museum. Creeper vines and Cordyceps grow on the sides of the building, marked by conspicuous veins and all-consuming every red brick of this once-beautiful structure.

The four of you stand outside the entrance of the museum. Cordyceps consume every part of the foundation, Ellie tilts her head to look up at it appalled, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You stand next to Joe, using your hand to rub your right eye, and mumble, “Shit.”

“Well, there’s a way across from the top floor,” Tess says while moving to place her hands in the pockets of her pants. Ellie sarcastically replies, “Well, then I guess it’s fine.” Tess reassures her by adding, “We use to take it all the time.”

Ellie answers, “Okay.” Joel leaves your side and approaches a dry vein of the Cordyceps, removing the rifle he stole from the FEDRA guard, he crouches and touches a part of it to check if it was still active. He swings downward, hits the vein with the butt of the gun, and a puff of dust releases from the dead fungi, he stands to walk over to Tess, “It’s bone dry. It could mean they’re all finally dead in there.”

Tess nods, then they both kneel to prepare their flashlights and weapons, just in case. You and Ellie watch them both rummage through their backpacks, “Oh, man,” the kid mutters.

Joel whips out a flashlight and waves it at Ellie, “Marlene pack you one of these or just sandwiches?” She removes her backpack, “Yeah,” and pulls out her flashlight. Joel looks to you, “Catch, hummin’ bird.” That was the only warning he gave you before tossing you the flashlight, “Luckily, I have a spare.”

You’re short of breath as you hear the nickname he gave you. Miraculously, caught it with both hands, and without even thinking you wink, “Thanks, cowboy.” Thankfully, no one says anything about your quip directed at him.

“Okay, so… more ground rules.” Tess announces and turns to Ellie,  “We’re gonna go slowly. If we come up against anything you get behind us and you stay there, okay?” The young girl nods and wears her backpack, “Yes.” Tess brings out her handgun and flashlight, positioning her hands in a way that she can use both. Ellie glances at the gun she’s holding, “I have a spare hand.”

Joel is unamused by what she is insinuating, dryly replies, “Congratulations.” He walks forward with determination, he pokes his head through the door to do an initial check before turning around to nod at the three of you to signal it’s clear. Reluctantly, you follow them inside, your mind has kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out a way to get past this with zero casualties. If you sacrifice yourself, would that change the ending? Would it buy Tess a little more time? This might be your grand attempt to do something right and kind without assurance, without the promise of an afterlife.

Flashlights dance and shine around the walls of the abandoned museum, you watch your step and try to calm the beating of your heart as you look at the artifacts left behind. You navigate through the hallways and come across a corpse of an infected deceased. Joel shines his flashlight on the fungi, “Yeah, cooked.” Tess exhales, “Finally, some fucking luck.” Ellie steps a little closer to investigate the remains of what was once human, Joel continues, “I guess we should’ve gone this way in the first place.”

You were so caught up in trying to ground yourself in the reality of all of this, that this is actually happening, that you forgot to at least warn them about the Clickers they were about to face in a couple of moments. Just as Ellie was about to turn a corner, you whisper loudly to her, “Ellie wait!”

Too fucking late. “Oh shit,” Ellie exclaims with wide eyes, and Joel makes a move to inspect what she found. A dead bruised, bloodied, young man slouched against the corner. Ellie’s eyes were full of shock, “What the fuck did that?”

Joel and Tess look at each other knowingly, and you finally decide to speak up, for her and theirs, “Whatever you’re about to say or hope for, don’t bother.” The three of them turn to look at you and you decide to continue in an audible whisper, “I wasn’t sure if I could or should warn you, but we need to stay quiet from now on.” You gather your courage to look directly at Joel with an unwavering stare, “It’s exactly what you suspect it is.”

“Are you saying an infected did that?” Ellie whispers to the three adults, and she resumes, “Because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Joel looks at you and he can see the way your face twists, your lips curled downwards, and your eyes show your remorse and guilt, he whispers to everyone, “Okay, from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet. Silent.” Ellie looks at him concerned and confused, “What?” But Joel shakes his head, “No. No questions. Just do it.”

This is it. You think to yourself as you will your feet to move, continuing, you follow Joel and Ellie up the stairs with Tess trailing behind. You remember when you could cover your eyes to the scary moments of the show, you could press pause, or fast forward, not needing to witness and feel the distress and panic.

The quiet creak of each floorboard of the steps as your boots land on the rotting wood, it groans all of your weight and dust falls from the ceiling. You all stop silently, waiting for any indication of an infected discovering that all of you were in the museum. After a moment, Joel looks back at you, a silent way of asking if it’s okay, you throw him a bone and give him a tiny spoiler, then you nod at him. And all four of you continue up the stairs.

As you make the first landing of the steps, you shine your flashlight to meet a horrifying view. Multiple corpses of people who were infected with Cordyceps lay on the wooden floors. It’s unspeakable and all-consuming, the silence overwhelms your system, there is a sudden tightness in your chest, and feel a part of your mask slip, your eyes shift and move to look at the pile of bodies. Organs and parts that were once human, were scooped out and transformed into fungi.

Your mouth opens silently, quivering as you do, and you lightly shake your head. Joel steps over the rotting fungi, just as you were about to grab Ellie and warn her about what she couldn’t see, you were too late. Again. A satisfying crunch could be heard throughout the building and you squeeze your eyes shut in fear for a moment then you reopen them. Joel whips around to look at Ellie with annoyance, the kid gives him an apologetic look.

Thankfully, you managed to make it up the steps with no more issues. Joel slowly opens the door to Independence Hall, and the wood gives a quiet creak. He quickly scans the area before deciding to nod at all of you, telling you it’s clear.

With your foresight and knowledge of events that had already happened in your time, you decide to act accordingly and give a hard shove to both Tess and Ellie inside the Hall and quickly follow after, gravity takes place and parts of the museum collapse, pieces of wood and cement block the doors. You were trapped.

Tess and Ellie push themselves off the ground, but you take a little longer to get up. You scraped your arms and hands, and the pain in your head came back. Joel quickly and quietly helps Ellie up then realizes you haven’t moved yet. He immediately makes his way to you, lightly shaking you to get up, you blink back the blurry black spots that are forming in your eyes and stand up with his help, both of his hands on the underside of your forearms.

You squint and slowly look up at him, and for what felt like a second, you see the worry that lines his face. Concern and need to protect you, even though you’re just a stranger. The moment doesn’t last long, you hear the familiar sound of screeching in the room adjacent to you. Flashlights shine in the direction of the noise and you hold your breath as all of you walk backward, keeping your eyes on the monster that emerges from the shadows. The twitchy movements are followed by the croaky noises of the infected, it tries to navigate, searching for its next prey. And on queue, the other Clicker screeches, indicating that there are two of them. This is no longer a museum, it’s a fucking horror house and all of you are in for the worst experience of your life.

You are now surrounded by predators, and prey, playing a twisted game of hide and seek. You press your back against the glass of the cabinet, Tess to your right, Ellie to your left, and Joel being the farthest left. He gestures to his eyes and ears, quietly mouthing, “They can’t see, but they can hear.”

The creature groans and croaks, clicking sounds from its throat. It’s right behind the glass, your eyes drift to the monster and see its jerky movements. You bring your eyes to look at Joel, he lifts his pointer finger to his lips, indicating to be incredibly still and silent. Fear is the darkness and the unknown, a hard-to-shake feeling, it overstays its welcome and leaves you panting.

Tess watches the monster make its way around the corner, limping and shaky. Ellie closes her eyes to try and control her breathing, and you get yourself ready for the fight you never wished for. ‘Why is it always so fucking dark?’ You wonder inside your head, The Clicker comes into view, and you hear an audible gasp come from Ellie. Shit.

The creature turns in your direction at full tilt, mouth wide open with its yellowing teeth, and gives the loudest high-pitch screech. Joel sprays bullets into the Clickers’ chest, but it fights back, he looks in your direction and yells out, “Run!”

The second clicker begins to sprint toward you and Tess shoots at it but the bullet misses. Tess grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, while you run with them. The four of you get separated, Tess trips and so do you and Ellie, she yells out to tell her, “Run… Run!”

Ellie crawls her under a table and finds her way out, while the Clicker runs after Tess. You are now at a crossroads, Joel is running at the other end of the exhibit while Tess heads in the opposite direction. You swiftly make a split-second decision and duck, right behind Ellie under the table, however, you do not crawl away, instead, you wait for the Clicker to run by you and quietly get up to follow after Tess. This is your chance to make things right, to ensure she doesn’t get bitten. Will this cost you your life?

You grab an ax hanging from the wall and run to the other side of the room, you hold it with both hands and feel the sweat coating your skin. You turn a corner and see Tess pinned up against the wall, the creature feasting on her neck, your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach, and you let out a scream, “No!”

The creature quickly turns and shrieks at you, angry for interrupting its meal, now it begins sprinting towards you, and the adrenaline pumps into your bloodstream and system. The anger starts to flare in your chest, the silence grows louder along with the ringing in your ears. You stand unwavering and with the courage that has been asleep for so long, it awakens at the right time.

Aiming directly at its head, you throw the axe with everything you have. It lands on a portion of its mushroom-infected face. Yet, it only slows the creature down a second, screaming and swinging its long mutated arms, and tries to locate you, but, it hears the commotion in the other room, loud pops of a revolver can be heard and you assume it’s Joel killing the other Clicker.

The abomination of what once was human turns and screeches at Joel and Ellie, it scampers towards them and you feel the pulse in your veins like a fighter, you fight the fear and let the rush take over, you sharply glance at the handgun Tess had dropped during the chaos and without hesitation, you pick it up and pray it still has some bullets in the chamber.

This was a skill you wished you never had to use. All those days in the range were just a precaution, the world is not kind to women, and you learned to protect yourself just in case. It meant only using a gun when you or the people you loved were in danger.

Using one hand, you swiftly remove the safety with your thumb, aim, and shoot at the head of the Clicker. With three loud pops and then a fourth one for good measure, the monster falls to its knees and on the ground.

Dead.

Blood oozes from the infected’s head, and you stand there watching the crimson splatter grow larger. Tess appears from the archway and takes in the vision before her. You turn to aim the gun at her, your fight instincts kick in, still high from the adrenaline, and you stand there breathing heavily.

Joel yells out your name. You blink once, then twice. A beat passes, and you don’t register Joel approaching you in a calm slow manner, his arm stretched out with his palm facing you, treating you as if you were a frightened animal, now he places his hand on top of yours, a touch so gentle you barely register it. Carefully and steadily he takes away the gun in your hand and turns the safety on before handing it to Tess, which she slowly takes, while you let it happen.

Your vision is blurry and tries to swallow away your guilt. You were too late. You couldn’t save her. Joel says your name again, he’s in front of you now, his frame covering and protecting Tess, but he has replaced the gun you once held, with his hand. Ellie watches the events unfold from the side, not wanting to create any more noise or movement. He squeezes your hand and whispers, “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

It’s not, but his voice brings you back anyway. You look to Tess, your eyes full of sorrow, and your voice quivers as you speak, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tess nods knowingly, she swallows her pride and sadness to say, “It’s okay. You tried… um, thank you.”

Her words completely snap out of your trance, and you see the world a little clearer now. You nod back at her, then bring your eyes to Joel, who is still holding your hand. His eyes dance around, observing and taking note of every detail of your face. You’re the first to break the staring contest, realizing that Tess doesn’t have a lot of time. You step back away from him, dropping his hand, “We should get going.”

Joel turns to Tess, “You all right?” She nods, “Twisted ankle, but yeah.” She limps over to Ellie, “You all right?”

“Well, I didn’t shit my pants, so…” Ellie says and pulls up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a bite from the infected. “You fucking kidding me?” she exclaims and turns to look at Joel, “I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”

Tess stays silent at that, glancing at you to keep your mouth shut. You give a discreet nod in response, Tess calls out to Joel, “Hey. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Joel pushes the window up and opens, stepping out onto the roof, Ellie follows and you do too, leaving Tess for last, who plops down to rest her ankle, “Fuck.”Joel kneels and opens his pack to give Ellie a bandage, “Put this around your arm.” She takes it and says, “Thanks.” You watch as Ellie makes her way to a wooden plank, makeshift bridge, “Over there?” Joel glances over while continuing to fuss over Tess, “Yeah, I know it looks scary.”

“That was scary. This is wood.” Ellie states and proceeds to walk across the wood plank to get to the other building’s roof. Joel watches in disbelief and hollers, “Just wait there. Give us a minute.” He turns to look at you, “Can you go make sure she’s…” You only nod, knowing that Joel and Tess need to talk, you look at the wood plank they call a bridge and mumble to yourself, “If the way I die is falling from a high place, so be it.” 

You walk across with no problem and catch up to Ellie, “Hey,” you say as you stand by her and take in the view. “What happened to you back there?” Ellie asks, the wind blowing strands of hair away from her face. You huff, “I don’t know. The adrenaline took over, I guess.”

You both stand in silence now, then you can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel walking up to the right of Ellie, she merely glances at him and then turns back to see the State House in the distance, glittering under the sunlight. “Is it everything you hoped for?” Joel asks her, Ellie blinks but answers him, “Jury’s still out. But, man you can’t deny that view.”

You hear Tess approaching from behind, eager to keep moving, “Come on, let’s get there before it’s dark.” She turns and then climbs a ladder down, letting out a groan of pain no one question or brings up. Joel nods at Ellie to follow Tess which he does, you look at Joel as Ellie climbs down. And you held his gaze for a moment, then look to his broken watch, before climbing down after the young kid.

Leaves crunch with every step you take, Tess lightly limping ahead, she turns to look at you, and you could only stare back. Tess looks straight ahead once more, and you can’t help but wonder about the violence of the dog days and what could get you through this. You see the State House from a distance, a hauntingly beautiful sight, creeper vines growing on the pillars and sides of the edifice.

The group decides to hide behind an abandoned car near the state house, and immediately could tell that something was very wrong, “Where the fuck are they?” Tess harshly states, Joel, shakes his head and decides to go check the truck parked outside by the steps of the ruined State House.

Joel walks over cautiously to the door of the truck, he swings it open to aim his rifle at it, only for the seats to be empty. Joel sees the blood splattered on the sides of the door, and turns to mouth at you all, “Stay back.” He rounds the side of the truck and notices a recently deceased, he continues to the back of the truck, swinging the giant blue metal doors, to confront no one.

You follow Ellie and Tess as she demands, “Joel, what the fuck is going on?” Joel shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

No longer wanting to play along, you look down to see a trail of blood up the steps and into the State House, you hear someone call your name, but say nothing as you walk up to the doors of the building. You push your way through, briskly walking to the center of the structure, and you take a good look at the multiple dead people scattered on the ground. You shake your head and close your eyes, “Fuck.”

You hear the three come in after you and they notice immediately what happened, Tess goes into a panic, “Okay. I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She proceeds to open the kit boxes that contain nothing but supplies, searching for anything that could help them win.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks, and you reply, “No,” you nod to the man on the ground, Joel rolls him over with his boot and you continue, “One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost.”

Joel’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, “You knew? You knew and didn’t even bother to warn us that this was all for nothin’?” You raised your chin, “They were already dead hours before we got here.” His jaw clenched while you stood, fists clenched by your sides, and rolled your shoulders back, glaring at Joel.

Joel calls out to Tess, “Tess, what are you doing?” She ignores him and approaches Ellie, “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you?” Ellie responds unsure, “Uh, I don’t know. Just west.”

“Just west. Fuck. okay. Well, I mean, one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” Tess then goes to search one of the deceased Firefly’s pockets, “Joel, can you help me?”

“No.” He fumed, “Tess, it’s over. We are going home.”

“That’s not my fucking home!”

You let the exchange happen, while you move to one of the kits to retrieve a handgun, some ammo, and a small first-aid kit, and steal a backpack sitting on top of the chairs to shove all your supplies inside. Then, you hear Tess say the words you knew would happen, “I’m staying. I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

“Fuck.” Ellie whispers, “She’s infected.”

Tess sighs, and Joel’s eyes hardened and narrowed into slits, “Show me.” She takes a step forward and whispers his name, only for him to take a step back. Tess then steps back, anguish splashes across her face, then pulls the collar of her shirt and jacket, to reveal the growing infection on her neck, “Oops, right? And don’t bother taking it against her,” Tess gestures to you, “She did everything she could to save me, but I guess fate had already cut my string.”

Joel takes in a breath of disbelief while Tess looks to Ellie, “Take your bandage off.” Which she does to reveal no evidence of infection, just a new scar on her forearm to add to her collection. Tess makes her way to Ellie and holds her arm, “Look. Joel? This is real.” She drags Ellie closer to him, “Joel, she’s fucking real.” Her grip suddenly becomes twitchy and she wills her hand to stop shaking and hides it behind her back, she stares directly into the eyes of whom she once loved, “I need you to get her to Bill and Frank’s.”

Joel is shaking his head as he replies, “No.” But Tess continues to speak, “They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”

“No… I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not gonna take her.” He says and you watch each part you knew to unfold, Tess whispers to him, “They will because you’ll convince them. Yes, you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…”

“No.” He stubbornly states, but Tess lets the tears stream down her face and exclaims, “Now, you shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.”

He grants her request and listens, “This is your chance. You get her there. You keep her alive and you set everything right. All the shit we did.” Joel shakes his head as Tess begs, “Please say yes, Joel. Please.”

Despite the somber mood, a screech from one of the corpses has come to life and taken its revenge on the living, Ellie screams out, “Oh, fuck!” But your reaction time is faster this time, and you no longer hesitate as you walk towards the parasite, remove the safety of the gun and shoot it point blank in the head. Joel comes up behind you, and takes notice of what you’re staring at, the Cordyceps patch has awakened the rest of the infected and you hear the croaks and shrieks from outside of the State House.

Joel runs up to one of the doors to check how many are on the way, he shuts the door and locks it after making out the horde approaching. “How many?” Tess asks, Joel walks past her, “All of ‘em. Maybe a minute.”

Tess takes one of the rifles off of the floor and uses the butt of the gun to remove the lid on the fuel barrels. She pushes it to the floor, and the clear yellow liquid pours out of it and coats the floor. You help and do the same to the other barrel, knowing how this will end for Tess. “What are you doing?” Ellie asks, watching you and Tess scatter grenades on the ground, “Making sure they don’t follow you.”

Tess then approaches Joel, breathless and shaking, “Joel. Save who you can save.”

He clenches his jaw and his nostrils flared, angry, confused, upset, everyone he ever loved leaves or dies. He stares at her, soaking in her image as much as he can, and then he makes his decision. He quickly grabs Ellie by the arm and drags her away, her protests can be heard as it fades away around the corner, she punches his arm to try and break loose but he’s much stronger, “No! We’re not leaving her! Get off me, you fucker!”

Tess says your name and you turn to face her, “You weren’t lying? About the whole different universe thing?” You can only shake your head in response, hoping she can see your heart breaking into pieces.

Tess hums and gives you a small smile, “Take care of them for me, please? Especially Joel. Stubborn as a mule but you’ll learn to love him, just like I did.” You decide to grant the woman her dying wish, you nod and whisper, “Goodbye, Tess.”

You turn to run and didn’t look back, pushing out of the wooden doors, while tears stream down your face slightly obscuring your vision. But you manage to catch up with Joel and Ellie, as you did, the blast from the State House is sudden and loud. The smell of burning kerosine fills the air and you turn to look back at the raging fire, Joel turns and points his rifle at the area, ready to shoot just in case, only to hear screeching and the infected burning on the steps of the building.

You stare and one-half of your senses silently wish Tess would walk out, but you can no longer rewind, she’s gone. Ellie pants, trying to catch her breath, tears rimming her eyes and Joel lowers his rifle to turn away from the roaring flames. You and Ellie turn to watch his lone silhouette walk away from you both.

A/N: WELL that’s the end of Episode 2! Lowkey was fighting invisible demons to get this chapter edited and out bcs I wanted to improve on describing movement, anger, sorrow, etc. IT WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT T^T but I hope I didn’t disappoint ya’ll <3 ALSO YEP MHM TAGLIST! Send me an ask so I can add ya! It’ll stay open for a tiny period of time so send away :D

I’m proud of you for doing the right thing by trying to save Tess! Even though we all know you secretly admire Joel and would have chased after him to ensure his safety with Ellie. hehehehehe 

Yes, the reader only knows everything up to Episode 3, meaning she has no clue about the rest of the show! She knows (most) parts of the video game but alas we know Television series like to change things so she’s lowkey fucked lol

I LIVE FOR YOUR COMMENTS ya’ll crack me up and have the best reactions. Thank you for your support and love. I’ll try and get the next chapter out soon!

-Grace

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter 

Taglist:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonders11 @syd-vixious @themysticturtles @kidkrow666​ @soulofapatrick​ @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter  @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale​ @mac5323 @slurmp69

[one-piece-aus]

Unbottle Your Emotions

Eustass Kid x Reader (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Ahoy, apologies for the delay to get part 3 out, I had written half of first but suddenly became under the weather and was unable to complete it until now. The wait is worth it, this chapter takes the first glimpse of Eustass' POV Enjoy! ^-^

You let out a sigh of relief. Finally in your room. You love your dad but after your internal stress at school today, you didn't want to stick around his current perky self in case his mood changed. You didn't know if you could contain yourself if you weren't able to dodge a bullet.

Rummaging through your closet, you pull out comfy loungewear and change into them. You glance at your phone, thinking of putting on metal music to drown out the world as you fall back onto your bed when a notification goes off. You open it up and it sends your messenger app.

[Leader Eustass Kid] Hey

'Was that what Kid named himself?' You wondered why he put that as his contact name in your phone.

[You] hey

[Leader Eustass Kid] You started writing ideas for the project before we left class, right?

You checked the time, seeing it was still relatively early evening. You didn't expect him to text about the project until late at night or the next day in class. At least he takes initiative, unlike some other classmates you've dealt with in the past.

[You] Yeah, uh- you want me to list 'em out or...?

[Leader Eustass Kid] Yeah send 'em over

Great, that means you had to look over your notes. You scanned around your room, relaxing when you saw your bag sitting by the door, relieved that you had already brought it upstairs with you. Reaching over, you grabbed the strap and flung it onto your lap. You unzipped one compartment and fished out your binder for English, tossing the backpack off your bed now done with it. Flipping through the pages, your fingers brush to the sheet where the rough ideas for what to do for the project. There were only three ideas... you sighed as your typed them over.

[You] Fan letter to the artist a review of the song analysis of the lyrics

[Leader Eustass Kid] Really? That's it?

You frowned your brows and growled, comfortable to do so behind the screen and in the safety of your room.

[You] I didn't have enough time to write more down before the fire alarm rang

'Asshole.' You thought to yourself before quickly typing again to keep up your useful and respectful persona.

[You] We can think of other ideas if you want.

There, now you're not obligated to do all the thinking. If he thought you were gonna do all the thinking yourself without him contributing then he had another-

[Leader Eustass Kid] What if we wrote what we thought of the song

You deadpanned. Technically that fell under review or analysis of the lyrics, you felt the need to correct him, yet you didn't wish to risk making him upset over something so meaningless even if it was over text.

[You] Sure Did you have a song in mind?

[Leader Eustass Kid] No

[You] You wanna do All Star?

You couldn't help but crack a smile. Yeah, you texted it on impulse, probably out of habit of joking with Hawkins.

[Leader Eustass Kid] Fuck no! I'm doing some meme for a project like strawhat and his brothers

[You] Right

You were tempted to change his display name to "Mr. Serious" or "No Joke Eustass", you opted those thoughts out knowing it wouldn't end well if he saw it.

[Leader Eustass Kid] But you got the right idea of doing one of the classics

[You] I think it would be a good idea to lean toward rock over metal

[Leader Eustass Kid] Why?

[You] In case the teacher wants us to play the song in class

[Leader Eustass Kid] Tf does that have to do with anything?

[You] Well, not every0ne's ears are tuned to metal and they probably wouldn't be able to understand the lyrics

[Leader Eustass Kid] So? Fuck them This ain't about them, this is our project

[You] It'd be easier for Ms. Makino if she needed to listen to the song as she's grading the papers

The message stayed on read for a good five minutes, enough time for worry to crawl and whisper how you messed up into your mind. Anxious joined its friend, suggesting you should skip class tomorrow. You played with the idea until you heard the notification go off and checked it instantly.

[Leader Eustass Kid] Fine

You let out the breath you were unknowingly holding.

[Leader Eustass Kid] But I get to choose the song

[You] Fair enough

You didn't get a text for a while after that, and you figured he was busy looking for a song. Deciding to be productive, you went through your other subjects and progressed on their homework. When pondering the idea of taking a break, your phone notified you. You received a message, you thought maybe Kid found a song. Oh, how unprepared you were.

[Leader Eustass Kid] Is it true you don't have anyone else to hang with?

[You] Why do you care?

You sent that before you realized how aggressive that sounded.

[You] Sorry Sorry, I mean I didn't intend to sound rude, I was just cut off guard with your question

[Leader Eustass Kid] I don't give two shits if you're some brooding teen But that jackass can't be the only one who hangs out with you

[You] You mean Apoo?

[Leader Eustass Kid] Yes, that jackass

[You] Well, there's Hawkins

[Leader Eustass Kid] Oh great, you're friends with him too

[You] We just hang out and Apoo tags along It's better than sitting alone at lunch and being bullied

You could feel the heat in your cheeks while you typed your defence with frowned brows. What does he know? Jerk has a whole ass gang and beats others up, he wouldn't understand your situation. 

"Asshole." You throw your phone at your pillow and roll to face the other way. Your hand comes in contact with a plushie and you punch it off your bed. At least in your room, you're free to let out your anger without worry.

A ping from your phone alerts you he sent another message. You remain lying with a frown, you don't want to keep talking to him, but the thought of him getting angry at you for not responding and berating you for it tomorrow makes you pick up your device. You could at least say you have to go for the evening, at least you were.

[Leader Eustass Kid] You could sit with me and my gang at lunch

Your features soften, a little taken back by his offer. You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure what to make of this. Is he really inviting you to hang out with him, at lunch, with his gang? Your fingers hover over the keyboard.

[You] I'll think about it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[L/n] I'll think about it

Kid turned off his phone and rubbed the side of his face with his free hand.

He didn't know why he offered. It just felt right. That's what bugged him, why did he feel that way? Is it because you didn't piss him off like other people? No, texting you showed you could bug him if you wanted to...but you did it similar to how his gang did it. Maybe he felt like you were one of his kin, one that has yet to be welcomed home. Was that right though?

He glances at his phone again, feeling the emotions swim, emotions he couldn't pin down to identify. They were almost as puzzling as you were. One moment you were bland, the next you had a sparkle of personality before you seemingly snuffed it out. What was your deal?

...

The parallels between you and his gang, before they joined, wouldn't leave his mind.

He could only hope you'd agree to join them at lunch.

[ofallthingsnasty]

there is an absolute drought of dark Smoker content so can I request a ticket with him for a Long Night of Museums?? Pretty please with a cherry on top 🙏♥️

💕💕💕 you're so right... Smoker, my love... Instead of taking some souvenirs home with you, you end up as one with that man 🤭

🎂nasty's 2024 birthday event 🎂

Your order:

1 x ticket to The Long Night of Museums with Smoker! (Adult only, exhibition might contain content such as stalking and kidnapping, proceed at your own risk.

Smoker is the type of man you only meet because his usual bar is directly next to your cheap little hotel - blue with smoke, wooden interior, two games of darts and the TV always tuned into some type of sports game and him sitting right by the barkeep, nipping at his beer for two whole hours. You only stumble in on your first night because you really, really want a beer after a long, exhausting day of traveling. And instead of paying for that overpriced crap they offer in the hotel lobby that you’d have to down all on your own in your hotel room, you’d rather spend an hour with total strangers who smoke one cigarette for every word they speak. It’s convenient, the neon sign hanging by the door tells you it’s cheap and not too packed - and that’s all you need right now. What you don’t expect is two meters of bulk and cigars waiting right by the bar, tacky Hawaiian shirt inappropriately open for the spring weather. He’s intimidating, blocking your path to a cheap stout - but you’re grown and in a strange city. You figure you’ll never see him again anyway, so you swallow that little tickle of nervousness and order a pint of whatever they have on tab. And, despite your flighty stomach, you stay right by the bar - booths are for multiple people, not for out-of-towners who can’t handle the places they wander into. It goes pretty well, all things considered. Aside from an initial greeting, he doesn’t even look your way, too busy grumbling into his own pint and watching whatever match is on up on the ancient screen. It’s bearable enough that you come back the next day - a long, surprisingly hot day of sightseeing and dragging your feet through pedestrian areas has you thirsty for another beer and you’re yet again too tired to wander any further than your hotel room. The comfort of being able to simply fall into your bed after getting a little bit of a buzz going trumps the pull of flashy bars and expensive cocktails. So you poke your head through the door of the dingy little pub again and, like he’s part of the inventory, two-cigars-hawaiian-shirt guy already sits pretty by the counter, in that very same spot as yesterday. You greet him with a little too much enthusiasm but get nothing more than a mumbled answer back. 

The next day, you feel strangely watched on your trek through the city. It’s pretty obvious that you’re a tourist (the puzzled looks to your maps app might be a dead giveaway), still, there are dozens, if not hundreds of you at any given little park or museum or statue. It’s not like the locals aren’t used to people traipsing through the city center looking at everything as if they’re seeing color for the first time, no, the city is on every damn ‘top 10 must see’ lists that have been plaguing the internet for decades - but you simply can’t shake it. No matter how long you spend pouring over paintings at a gallery, no matter how slowly you take your lunch in an eclectic little bakery, it never stops. You all but flee to that shabby little bar in the evening, looking to seek cover among the many eyes of strangers once again. A little buzz and handful of potential witnesses (should anything unsavory happen) sound safer than staring at the flimsy lock on your hotel room’s door until you collapse from exhaustion. Or maybe you just want to shake off that nasty feeling of being followed with one too many beers right now - you can’t really decide. That night, two-cigars-hawaiian-shirt guy doesn’t sit by the bar when you enter. He comes in, almost dawdling, half an hour after you. You’re already halfway through your first pint and have no intention of stopping at just one when he sits himself down with so much heft right beside you, it actually makes you sputter. It almost feels like your stool shakes when he plops down and orders his own drink, absentmindedly biting his cigars. It takes you just another pint to actually talk to him. And a third one to realize that he’s stupid hot. Sure, you registered his sheer size two nights ago already, but he’s actually ruggedly handsome: well-groomed and tastefully gray in a rough way that reminds you of some sort of 80s action movie character. He doesn’t talk much. It doesn’t bother you in your slightly inebriated state; every question is met with only a short, almost bitten out answer but it’s all made up by the way his voice seems to crawl right underneath your skin, deep and gruff but irresistible and somewhat smooth. You joke and laugh and sway around enough for the two of you, feeling weirdly safe with this total stranger. Smoker, that’s his nickname, and you think it’s oh-so-fitting and funny in your haze. He seems to have taken a liking to you, too - because even though he grumbles all the way through it, he even tolerates a game of darts that you spectacularly lose. It’s a wonderful evening, you think, and it’s nice to properly socialize after two days of looking at dusty museums and flashy sights, and even better today, after you’ve been uneasy every waking minute. You’re happy and drunk and even gutsy enough to feel up the abs of that handsome stranger who supports your shaky legs to guide you to the hotel room, trying to get the most out of this little chance meeting.

At least until you wake up in an unfamiliar place the next morning, the wonderful, airy feeling of a fun night out replaced by sheer and utter dread. You can barely register that your hands and feet are tied together, that it’s not the alcohol making you feel nauseous but rather the position you seem to have spent the last couple hours in- because just a second later, Smoker’s face is all you see. 

That gravely voice you found so charming yesterday suddenly makes your stomach bubble in raw fear as he tells you to stop fighting and that you’re better off with him, anyway - seeing as you’re way too weak on your own and he's been looking for a little spouse, anyway. And you'll do. 

[day6source]

hello my loves <33333333 happy spring! i hope you've all been enjoying it so far, and especially enjoying it with the new album hehe!!🫶 so! first things first:

the welcome to the show concert is next week! as always i'll be recording, and i've since figured out recording with firefox, so there should be 0 to little stuttering this time in the VOD! i apologize heavily for that, and i actually have a gift to make up for it, but stay with me until the end! second: since kcon was...virtually unwatchable to most of us, i went on a little hunt for it! you may or may not be able to find the meet & greet here and the performance cut of the boys here. not sure. you might just have to check out the links to double check ;)

third: masterpost for 'fourever' is basically all updated! you can find it here! i was...unaware of the link limit, so if you want the shopping and streaming and performance links, those'll be in the first read more, watching things and articles are in the second one (which is the one linked for ease)! promo is basically over (i say cautiously) minus the concert, so feel free dive in if you missed anything! speaking of masterposts!

fourth: i got to thinking about it, and i found it a little unfair to only include jae in the pinned, so you can now find links/some updated info about what junhyeok is doing! i figured if i'm gonna have one former member, i should also have the other, even if he was there for only a short amount of time. so if you've been wondering what he's been up to, check him out on youtube and streaming! i'll be keeping it...semi-updated in the way i do jae's part, checking in every like, three months to see if anything's changed. on the flip side, if none of you care to know what those two are up to, i might just take their sections out entirely, but for now i thought it'd be courteous to have them there at the very least!

and last but not least: so, you guys know that watching old concert content is...entirely impossible really, and i thought...that was pretty wack, actually. so! the other day i went on a little deep dive on some sites, and i found some old concerts including the youth tour, the streams from pilmography, an old fanmeet, and the final every day6 concert. this site is uhhh basically impossible to see without a vpn and...well i also thought that was super wack, especially granted this content is...impossible to find elsewhere, and you can't even buy it. so i...took the liberty of gathering it and maybe...just maybe...you can find it here along with all of the other shows of recent, including a better stream of the christmas show for you guys. this is just me personally, but i think especially in comparison to other fandoms, ours is...a bit smaller and older, so gatekeeping content is just...not cool, and i wanna make sure that if you guys wanna see things, i can bring them to you to watch! it's not everything probably by a long shot, but if it's somewhere, i want you guys to be able to see it, even if those people don't think so, and especially if we can't just go out and buy it somewhere! so please enjoy! it should all be uploading as of me typing this post up, but should be up within a couple of hours, but there's some things in there like the kcon stuff and some other shows already, so that should keep you busy in the meantime.

okay, that's it! i love you guys, and i hope you're all staying so so so healthy and so so so so happy and enjoying fourever! we're actually almost at 300 followers which is INSANE, especially because the blog is almost a year old!!!!! what!!!!!!!! time truly flies, and i have loved every second with you all, i've got some potential things planned, so...stay tuned ;) stay happy and healthy, study well, take long breaks when you need, enjoy the weather! i love you guys so much <33333 tay💕💕💕🫶🫶🫶

[tyto-ghost]

Hello world! Let me present to you one of my pitches for an animated series (college thesis) About a private investigator hunting anomalies, but in reverse! (sort of)

This takes place in your regular mundane Earth with wacky creatures inhabiting it, and of course, CIA agents taking care of them before causing any ruckus to the human world.

This series follows our main guy, Caesar Raymond Thompson, a living sentient TV static amalgam who decided to leave his "shell" to pursue his dream job, a cool detective guy like his favorite shows (that he uh..broadcasts himself??). However even if Caesar is incredibly naive to the current situation, his idea to solve the "anomaly kidnapping by the government" problem is to open a new secret radio channel about helping various clients with their troubles via interviewing anomalies in hopes that they can sort things out and not call the cops.

All of this while *trying* to keep a low profile so he doesn't get pulverized by the government either.

Caesar is, to put it shortly, an incredibly charming but insanely naive guy. He's cheery, he's very gullible, has no idea how to properly wear a jacket, you have to manually turn down his volume with a remote otherwise he won't stop shouting like a reporter, his only sense of reality comes from TV shows themselves. Caesar is the type of person that is constantly trying to appeal in order for others to like him with little consideration of himself.

As already stated, he is literally just TV static, but he's more than just a cutout of a conventionally looking detective man. He's kinda like a slime (not a blob, we are getting to those waaay more later on a future post). He can mold himself to any shape and change how solid or meltier his body can be. However he can't stay out of his TV shell without proper rest for more than 24hs otherwise he will start to fall apart.

You can also control parts of his body (mute him, change a channel, even temporarily kill him by turning him off!) if you ever get to hold his own remote (PLEASE be gentle with him).

But every silly personal investigator in his 30s needs a middle aged (radio) man to partake (and publicly broadcast) his wacky endeavors, of course

Rodrigo is your average man (erm personality wise), nothing too eccentric, likes to chill while playing old songs (he even has access to music most people consider lost media!), Not very tuned to the modern world. He has to constantly put Caesar back to reality any time he gets into antics, but is too kind to yell or be rude. Rodri is pretty much a very tired man, but he really appreciates his buddy-partner.

He's a bit strange to explain, most people consider him an animated object (him being the radio) but he's a little bit more complex, you see, Rodrigo is technically the voice of an announcer living inside a radio, a (somewhat) human conscience with no physical body that travels through a radio signal. The radio is nothing more than his "house".

Unlike Caesar who is simply static and has no channel of his own, Rodrigo "rests" on his own hidden radio channel, basically an empty space where he talks with no one far away listening, however he isn't unreachable, by performing a few silly tricks with your own radio trims and buttons (or calling a mysterious number) you might have access to his broadcast.

Rodrigo is mostly blind, he has no eyes after all, but, he can kinda"see" sometimes if the objects in the room are moving and making noise, otherwise he only sees static.

Well! that's it for now! More worldbuilding and info about these goofballs will eventually come out (aprox) next month! (this story is also bound to change due to it being a college project). Follow me to keep up with my funny guys, in the meantime...

[lemonandlime22]

ask from @lorkai: Twst idea: Particularly there's this song that I love and I can say it's my comfort song, even though I constantly forget the lyrics. So I was imagining a Yuu who is alone in a completely different world, without their cell phone or any items from the world they came from, freaking out when they're finally alone after weeks because they can't remember the song.

Yuu forgets their comfort song

Warning(s): angst obv, book 3 spoilers?

Words: 913

A/N: AHHHH!!! I love this!!! I kinda got carried away lol, hope you like it luv!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first, being thrusted into a new and unfamiliar world seemed like something you could work with. You've watched enough shows and read enough books about this type of thing to understand how to deal with it the best you could. You were a bit uncomfortable being away from all your things but you could handle it. After all, you survived being literally thrown into a different dimension, so being away from your things in said dimension was nothing.

But the longer you stayed the more nervous you got. Don't get me wrong you enjoyed it in Twisted Wonderland, you've made many good friends and have had so much fun not including the overblots, but it was still terrifying at times, being away from where you felt most safe.

It would keep you up at night sometimes but that wasn't much of a problem for you, simply humming the tune of your favorite song was enough you calm your nerves down to the point where you could fall asleep. You hummed that song to yourself almost every night as the feeling kept getting worse. After a few weeks of you humming and singing the song nearly every night, you started to forget the lyrics and beat, so you decided to write down as much of it as you could remember so it could jog your memory. This worked for a short while, until,,,

It had been an incredibly long day, actually no, long week. Grim Ace and Deuce had gotten into trouble again and you had to convince Jack to help you get them out of it, and in the process of helping them, you nearly lost Ramshackle. Oh yeah and another overblot happened but that's nothing new. It was a lot and you just wanted to get a good full night's rest, maybe even sleep in a bit. Before you went to bed you did your usual routine, locking the doors, putting your pjs on, etc. As you got tucked into bed, next to an already sleeping Grim, you retched to grab your notepad that lay on the bedside table only for it to be missing. Scrambling back out of bed you looked all over the floor and the rest of the room but it was nowhere to be seen. You took a deep breath to keep from panicking anymore and reassured yourself that you don't need it.

Crawling back into bed you kept telling yourself that you could remember the song on your own, even going so far as to say you didn't need it at all. It had been hours since you laid down and you still couldn't fall asleep, the sinking nervous feeling in your stomach only grew with each passing minute. You eventually gave in and were going to try and hum the melody of the song, but your mind only came up blank. You started mumbling whatever words that you associated with the song, even tapping your finger on the headboard trying to find the beat or anything close. But no matter how much mumbling, humming, or tapping you did, you couldn't remember any part of the song. It was like the song never existed like it just vanished without a trace, only leaving the memory of the comforting safe feeling it gave you and a sudden sinking sense of dread mixed with a growing panic. The thought of you slowly forgetting your home terrified you to no end.

While all these emotions quickly grew, all you could do was lay there in a bed that has never felt more empty, in a house that feels like the furthest thing from home, in a world where you knew could never feel truly safe. These thoughts made you weak, it felt like you didn't even strength to move your limbs. All you could do in your state was stare at the ceiling and quietly sob, feeling unable to even wipe the tears from your face. Eventually, sleep forced its way to you after what felt like an eternity of choking back your sobs so as to not wake Grim.

Waking up the next morning you expected to feel even more exhausted than the night before and probably a bit crusty due to the dried tears. What you weren't expecting was to feel a warm weight on your chest and the smell of... burnt pancakes? Looking down you saw Grim, fast asleep on your chest with what looked like splatters of bater on his paws and face. He had a tight secure grip on your arm as if you were going to fade away any second. You reached up to wipe the drowsiness out of your eyes, and you were surprised to realize there weren't any dried tears on your cheeks as you had expected there to be. Looking around the room, you saw a box of tissues on the bedside table that had not previously been there, surrounding the box were seemingly used tissues all scattered around. After connecting the dots you started taking in the scene in front of you, seeing the warm morning sun that had draped the room in its light. Slowly yet surely, the warm feeling of comfortability and maybe even safety crept its way into your heart.

You draped your free hand over Grim and closed your eyes for some more much needed sleep. This time realizing that this old bed has never been as empty as it use to feel,,,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[holdupjack]

Waking Up Next To You

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Present Time/In Their Late 20’s

WARNING: None

——————

Hermione's P.O.V:

"Mione?"

"Hm?"

"Are you sleeping?"

"I was...but I heard an angel call for me"

"That's corny"

My eyes peels open to find my wife hovering over me with a soft smile.

"What is it my love?" I ask and she just continues to smile.

"Good morning" Y/n whispers as she leans down and captures my lips.

I hum happily as my hand reaches up and caresses her face, my other hand finding a spot on the back of her neck.

As she tries to pull away, I whine for another kiss, which I'm happily given.

"I have to make breakfast" she mumbles against my lips and I hum.

"Just five more minutes" I whisper and she chuckles.

"Alright Granger, five more minutes" Y/n whispers back as I pull her body on top of mine.

I gently begin to place feather like kisses on her face, she counts them under her breath as my finger tips fall to her waist.

"Can't we just stay like this?" I ask between each kiss.

"We have to eat" she answers and I groan in annoyance, pull her closer to me and burying my face against her neck.

"How about this, I order Uber Eats, and we'll just sleep in today?" She asks and I giggle like a little kid.

"That sounds amazing" I mumble against her skin.

I sit up, her legs wrap around my waist as Y/n reach's for her nightstand.

When she sits back towards me, she hands me the remote and immediately wraps her arms around my body.

Her chin rests on my shoulder as I flip to the news channel, I can hear Y/n's phone as she types, she hums a quiet tune in my ear.

"Expect showers till late this afternoon..."

I roll my eyes at the same old anchor and the same old weather of the U.K.

"It's cuddle weather" I sigh as my arm tightens around her and as I kiss her shoulder.

"It always is" Y/n laughs in my ear and I smile.

"That's why I like living here" I chuckle back and I could feel her eyes roll.

As I flick between stations, Y/n begins to name off restaurants.

"How about that local restaurant near here? You like their beans and toast" she says I nod.

"Good idea" I whisper as I kiss the side of her head.

I reach my hand up and slowly rub her back up and down. She sighs happily and shivers slightly, causing me to chuckle.

"It'll be here soon"

I hum and place the remote down, letting myself get lost in her warmth and company.

"I love you Y/n Granger" I whisper and she quickly answers me.

"I love you too Hermione Y/l/n"

If the butterflies in my stomach could flutter any faster, I swear I could start floating.

"When you say that, you make me want to retire already and stay like this forever" I whine as I push her onto the bed and hover over her.

Her smile shines as the soft sound of 'The Golden Girls' theme plays from the T.V.

"The Wizarding World needs you Minister" she chuckles and I groan placing my forehead on her shoulder.

"No" I whine and she just laughs, pulling my face up and giving a soft kiss to my greedy lips.

"No complaining, you love you're job" Y/n chuckles out as we pull away.

"But it keeps me away so much, this is my first day off in months!" I sigh, laying myself on top of her.

"I know 'Mione, but you're such a good Minister. That's why you work such long hours, to save the Wizarding World from itself" she says and I sigh again, mumbling a few 'stupid people' and 'dumb magic' from my lips.

Y/n just laughs, running her hand through my tangled hair and drawing shapes into the exposed part of my back.

"Can we just go back to our Hogwarts days?" I ask and Y/n hums.

"You really want to fight again?" She asks and I roll my eyes, sitting up and straddling her hips.

"No, I mean when it was just you and me...when we would sit in my room and stare out the window at all the stars, or late at night when we would sneak into the room of requirement and slow dance to music" I sigh and Y/n smiles.

"You just want to have our 'no responsibility' moments again?" She asks and I smile back.

"Yes, I want to just spend my time on earth with you" I whisper as I lean down and kiss her nose.

Knock! Knock!

"I got it" I hum as I kiss her lips once more and hop off the bed.

Quickly, I walk out to the front door and grab the food from the ground. I hear a soft meow as I shut the door, I look at the table to find Crookshanks the Second staring at me.

"There you are" I chuckle out as I walk back to the bedroom, with him in tow.

"Delivery!" I sing out as I walk back inside, to find my wife staring very intently at her phone.

"What are you looking at?" I ask and she hums.

"The Quibbler, seems Luna might think social anxiety might be apart of some fairy" she hums and I nod, setting down the bag at the foot of the bed.

She turns off her phone, and looks at me with a soft smile. I look between the T.V and the bag as I sort everything out.

"Where are you going?"

"To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide in the car"

I chuckle at the classic sitcom as I pass Y/n her food and the silverware that came with it.

"Can you believe they're all gone now?" Y/n asks and I laugh a little at the now funny memory.

"I just can't believe you called me crying, and made me leave work hysterical, thinking that something was wrong" I sigh and she just laughs loudly.

"It's Betty White! Everyone was crying!" She defends and I just chuckle again.

"I know my love" I hum as I sit down next to her with my food.

As we eat, Y/n's phone goes off a few times but she doesn't look at it, but she has a grin on her face.

"What are you up to?" I ask, a grin of my own forming.

"Nothing, why?" She asks as her smile drops and I roll my eyes.

"Dove, we've been together for eleven years, I know when you're hiding something" I say and she just rolls her eyes back at me.

"I just ordered some stuff from Amazon, I got  confirmation texts" she answers and I hum.

"What did you buy?" I ask and Y/n just looks at back at the T.V.

"Some more supplies for you, and some more food for Crook" she answers and I look at her a moment.

She's not telling me everything.

I chuckle softly and lean over, kissing her cheek.

"Alright my love"

——————

It was now late, almost 9 o'clock at night.

I hum quietly to myself as I go through some emails on my phone, my hair wrapped in a towel from my recent shower.

Y/n was cleaning some of the dishes when suddenly the house goes quiet.

"Y/n?" I call out but get no answer.

As I'm about to get up and look for her, she emerges into the room with a huge Amazon box.

Crookshanks runs through her legs and jumps up at the foot of the bed.

"What's this?" I chuckle out as she places it on the ground.

"You'll see" Y/n says happily as she opens it easily.

"I knew you had something up your sleeve" I mumble as I sit up, placing the towel from my hair in my nightstand.

"Close your eyes!" She says and I roll my eyes.

"Baby-" I'm cut off as she throws the towel at my face and falls to my lap.

I laugh, letting a snort escape me as I shake my head and doing as she says.

My mind wonders about what she could be planning.

A few times I could feel my hairs stand on end and goosebumps cover my arms when she'd places a kiss on my lips randomly.

A good twenty minutes go by of me hearing shuffling around the room, before the lights are shut off.

The bed dips beside me and I feel Y/n wrap her arm around me, pulling me down to lay next to her.

"Okay, open your eyes"

As I do, I'm greeted by the sound of slow music playing and the sight of the stars on the ceiling.

Im speechless.

"Well, since we can't go back in time, I decided to bring it to the future" she laughs out as I look over at her.

"You enchanted the ceiling?" I ask and she nods.

Suddenly Y/n sits up and grabs the Amazon box from the floor, I sit up too and rest my chin on her shoulder.

I look inside to find my favorite snacks and alcohol, with a few of her favorite stuff as well.

"I don't know what to say" I whisper, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"You don't have to say anything, I didn't do this for brownie points or something." She whispers and I slips my fingers with hers.

"Why did you do it then?" I ask as my favorite slow dancing songs play.

"I did it because I always want you to know that I'll always look at you and see the girl from fifth year that I fell in love with" Y/n mumbles as her eyes stare at the illusion, a shooting star goes by.

She closes her eyes and I feel my heart beating like it did on our first date at the Library.

"What did you wish for?" I whisper and she looks at me with a small smile, kissing my lips as well.

"That I'll always wake up with you by my side"

[rubyfoxfyre]

What did you base Alastors Nox Magia off of? Why type of magic is it and where did you get the ideas for a good ass fanfic?

Thank you for the question!

The answer is sort of a long story that I suppose begins with my first exposure to Hazbin Hotel in general, during a particularly doomed D&D campaign where my character basically acted exactly like Charlie did in the pilot:

Granted, Fianna is not anything like Charlie at all, but the DM found it funny enough to send me the gif above and then everyone got distracted for about 5 minutes while they started meming.

The next day I watched the show and was completely hooked!

I started looking into the Wiki to get a greater understanding of the world shown, read the comics (like all 20 pages hahaha), and listened to Addict while working on prompts for Charlastor Week 2022, taking a break from my regular manuscript I'd been working on for a few years (stay tuned for updates soon on that one!). I had about a month so I decided to try my hand at smaller short stories, since some of the authors I idolize are so good at short fiction, and conveying strong emotions in just a few thousand words.

I watched and rewatched the Pilot, studying the characterizations there as well as thinking about funny and unexpected scenarios the characters could get into while dealing with the concept of redemption and how to make it work (needless to say that the fact that they already had it happen was... unexpected. I have thoughts on that but will put a pin in that for now to avoid getting too distracted from your question!).

I can't remember which rewatch it was that I picked up on an interesting exchange between Charlie and Alastor that turned into a whole mess that would consume me to this day:

She tries to put a limitation on his ability to do too much, and I wondered if that could lead to a sort of interesting power-play between them (because in the end this is the part of their relationship that is fundamentally interesting - they're both powerful people with opposing moralities, having to work together to acheive a common goal). Basically, because Charlie's not precise with her language, she ends up basically not controlling Alastor at all. Which works out in its way, because she hides from her deeper wellspring of power with the aid of a gentle persona.

I liked the idea of something deeper between them and within themselves - and with them being opposing forces, I wanted to work with the idea of Alastor being associated with "night" and "dark", versus Charlie being associated with "sunlight" and "rainbows".

Shadow and Flame, only a bit less Lord of the Rings and a bit more sexy.

Nox Magia , the "night" magic, follows basic arcane principles that I've picked up on through the long and involved process of being a massive nerd and reading a lot of stuff.

For writing magic, I like looking at basic logic structures and hovering somewhere between harder and softer magic. My other manuscript that is premiering this year will be discussing some differing types of magic systems as well, if you enjoy reading Riddle and my other works, I hope you enjoy those as well!

But as for the story itself, it wasn't meant to be a story about a man falling in love... it's the story of a man being dragged into love, kicking and screaming about it. 🦌🌈

To Alastor the Hotel is about control, and his experience there is just a game not to be taken too seriously. Charlie is also about control, or rather, trying to find a way to control without breaking everything with her terrible strength.

Alastor embraces his strength, while she hides from it, and he finds that contradictory instinct in her interesting, so he comes up with the idea of a game to teach her some magic that might help her. But as with all magic, intent governs everything (even when you don't realize), and the spells he's teaching are telling a particular kind of story - you can preview what's happening in the chapter titles that have the runes' names! 🍷

❤️ Thanks so much for reading! ❤️

[ladynaberrie]

you're walking tall (no need to hide)

Pairing: Kix x Translator!Reader

WC: 2.3k

Rating: T

You're assigned to the 501st again. Kix hovers.

part 1 part 2 part 3

sfw but mdni pls <3

Sometimes Kix wishes you were assigned to his unit more. 

It’s a stupid thing to dream about, certainly not something he should be thinking about when he’s on the precipice of sleep. He knows from chatter you tend to see more generals like Plo Koon and less of the Quinlan Vos types, which, rather unfortunately, includes General Skywalker. 

It’s unfortunate because he’s about had it with Senator Amidala’s protocol droid. (Whenever the golden droid drones on and on, Kix finds himself envious of Wolffe, who gets to see you more than he does).

But at the same time, it’s a relief, one less person to keep an eye on. If anything were to happen to you…

Well, there’s no real reason he should feel anything more than normal. He knows that, and he realistically knows he’d be fine, move on, and get to work. It’s war. Another day, another casualty. 

Kix’s train of thought derails. 

You weren’t made for war, he concludes. Not like him or his millions of vode. His childhood was math, combat, and logic problems that asked him to determine the difference between life and death. You got to follow your passion, and dream of languages and stories. (You probably never had to worry about the consequences of who you kissed).

Kix’s train of thought derails. Again. 

He tosses and turns in his bunk. This was going to be a long fucking night.

The next morning is infinitely better. In fact, Kix is elated.

You’re standing at attention next to Rex, and you look as pretty as ever. Your eyes drift over his unit before they land on him. The satisfaction he feels when your eyes stop on him for a second and light up in recognition is embarrassing. It should be studied on Kamino as an example of what can go wrong when a Clone meets a kind and pretty natborn. 

He tunes back into Rex, who’s relaying information from the General. The more the Captain goes on, the more effort it takes for Kix to not frown. This planet’s terrain was rough; rocky and steep, full of gnarled roots and obstacles. Not suited for you at all. And on top of that, there's a mountain you all will have to climb.

Fucking typical.

While Kix doesn’t like having to split his brainpower to factor you in, he’s not going to complain about having an excuse to stay close to you.

If you notice the way he’s orbiting you, keeping an eye on you, as you carefully step through especially uneven ground, you keep it to yourself. Kix is grateful for that. He’s already getting enough teasing on the internal commlink, as the transcript so kindly reminds him.

[FIVES: 30 credits Kix fumbles this.

JESSE: You’re on.

ECHO: 50 credits that he specifically tries to make his move while doing medic shit.]

But it seems you’re the one who makes a move first. You fall in step next to him, bumping into him in a friendly manner.

Kix grunts in greeting. The comm lights up as he gets absolutely slandered. He mutes it as Fives demands Jesse’s money.

“You know, you could talk to me instead of just hovering around.” He winces at the surge of activity in the transcript.

“Oh. I apologize, Officer.”

“Now, what has you so focused on me?” you ask in a sing-songy voice. Sing-songy? He's certainly never used that word before...

“Terrain. Worried about you falling,” he says gruffly, face heating up. He can practically hear Fives cackling.

“Oh. That’s very kind of you,” you say graciously, probably to save his pride.

He hums in response, mentally kicking himself. Was he going to need to take a class from Jesse on flirting? He’d never hear the end of it. But if it meant sweeping you off your feet the same way Jesse’s woos his person of the week…

He’d put up with teasing until the day he took his last breath.

The silence draws his attention back to you.

“It’s nice having you back. Million times better than Senator Amidala’s droid,” Kix says quickly, hoping to dispel the odd tension in the air. He’s rewarded by your laugh, and his chest feels warm. 

The transcript updates as Jesse goads Fives.

“C-3PO isn’t that bad. Though I will say Commander Wolffe sometimes ignores him if I’m there.” You giggle a little at the memory. Wolffe, huh? Kix frowns to himself, imagining Wolffe standing way too close to you. 

“Commander Wolffe may be onto something there…” he trails off. You glance at him from the side, sending him a pleased look that he wished he understood better.

The ground ahead of you two steepens rapidly. It’s nothing for a Jedi or a clone, but an unease settles in Kix’s stomach, eyes flicking down to your feet as you trek alongside him.

The mountain slope isn't completely vertical, and he's grateful for that. He is, however, ungrateful that the local lifeforms built their village at the very top of this peak.

“Well, I know you and Commander Wolffe, are pretty anti-droid, but they have their uses.” He rolls his eyes at that, thankful for his bucket.

“I think having a sentient translator in addition to a protocol droid makes sense. Access to a very large number of languages and automatic translation, paired with creative thinking, context, and interpretation. A decent team,” you finish, nodding to yourself. He would prefer C-3PO with you, as opposed to just the droid. But still.

“You’re smart enough to do that with just a datapad,” Kix argues, taking a large step up the incline. “And some protocol droids are clunky and can’t always move very fast.” You huff, following him up the slope. 

Kix slows down a little, eyeing the upcoming terrain, and he has to stop himself from audibly groaning. He just had to be grateful the slope wasn't vertical.

He eyes the cliif warily. It's a short climb with plenty of visible handhelds and ledges before the slope evens out again.

Kix gestures for you to go ahead of him. He’s got a feeling if anything were to happen, it would be here. You huff past him, slowly scaling the mountain.

“A kriffing datapad,” you say. “I guess…” you relent, diverting your brain power to not falling.

It grows quiet again as the majority of the company ascends with ease and continues onto the gentler slope.

Kix’s brows pinch together in annoyance; he somehow missed the fact that there was a fucking tiny cliff they'd have to scale. There must’ve been a better way to go about this. Did General Skywalker and Rex forget you would be with them?

Kix pauses on a relatively stable ledge, keeping an eye on you as you climb ahead. His eyes scan the area you're reaching for.

He notices it before you, but not soon enough, and Kix winces as you grab onto a loose rock. It gives way, and you let out a small scream, as you drop.

Reacting as fast as he can, Kix reaches to grab you. His arms grapple around you, pulling your back tight against him. You’re both upright, with Kix supporting the brunt of your weight.

It’s a somewhat awkward position, resembling a trust fall as opposed to some romantic carry. (Romantic? Kix scoffs at himself) It’s not by any means graceful or elegant, but you’re ok. Maybe a little shaken, but ok.

Keeping you pressed against him, he eyes you carefully, assessing any possible injury you may have sustained. When he reaches your face, he freezes. 

You've twisted to face him, and you’re looking at him in a way that makes him inhale sharply. It's a soft and warm look, one that Jesse and Fives are often on the receiving end of. Not him.

Fuck.

It’s at this moment he realizes his arms are still nestled above and below your chest, anchoring you to him. He snaps out of his haze, helping you stand.

“You all right, cyar’ika?” he asks, doing another survey for damage once you’re up. You nod before smiling sheepishly. 

“Good thing you kept such a good eye on me," you say gently, hand resting on his plastoid-covered forearm. His ego swells. 

Echo’s “PAY UP” in the transcript alerts Kix to the eyes on the two of you from above. He wants to curl around you and hide you away from the rest of his vode.

Based on the way you’re looking at him, Kix begins to think you may want the same thing. And the logical part of his brain is telling him he’s not sure it’s a good thing.

Kix’s doubts follow him all the way back to the star destroyer.

It was one thing when it was just him daydreaming, but now, it may no longer be one-sided.

It was one thing when he would steal glances at you from behind his helmet, but now, he sees you staring at him first.

It’s become something all too real because now there’s hope he’s not alone in this predicament.

Kix is pondering this development as he peels off bits of crusted-over synth flesh away from his arm. It’s been a tense day on The Resolute. At least for him.

Your close contact with him had made him lose focus for the rest of the mission. He's lucky he was the only casualty of his negligence.

He examines where his wound was. The skin color is normal; any internal or external trauma has healed. 

“Hi,” you chirp out, eyes widening a little as you enter the med bay. Kix meets your gaze, instincts firing up at the way your voice drops suddenly.

Your body’s stiff, face twisted into a flustered expression he wishes he could appreciate more. Kix tenses a little when he realizes what may have prompted your reaction. 

His blacks hang at his waist, leaving the upper half of his body exposed. He watches as your eyes dip down to his pecs before jumping to hover respectfully above his shoulder.

Interesting. 

Kix flexes a little, chest expanding in pride. 

“I just wanted to say thank you. For, uh, y'know...” you trail off. Your eyes zero in on his bicep, eager for a topic change. “And sorry you tripped. Are you alright?” Fucking hell.

All Kix wants is for a hole to open up in the side of the ship and pull him into the vacuum of space. (You would remain safe in this little morbid fantasy. Space and the Force are able to sense your innate goodness thereby saving you from his fate).

Kix settles on nodding, not wanting to discuss his embarrassing fall at the village. His brothers would never let him forget.

You shuffle forward until you’re right by him, fingers hovering above where the synth flesh had dried. “May I?” you ask. 

He nods, bracing his arm for the soft touch of your hand. Your fingers are light as they ghost over his skin; he nearly groans at the faint contact. 

Kix’s eyes jump to your face; your mouth's twisted up in a grimace as you closely inspect his arm. He smirks a little at your concern.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft, as if he’s trying not to spook you. “I'm alright, cyar'ika. I was just stupid. Distracted because I couldn't help but worry about you all day." You look embarrassed at his minor confession, but then the same soft look you had when he caught you comes back, and Kix's heart thumps heavily.

He wants nothing more than to kiss you, to feel you pressed against his bare skin. Would you look at him like you are now? Like he’s not just CT-6116?

Your hand drifts from his arm to the side of his head. The feeling of your fingers dragging along his scalp makes him shut his eyes and suppress a shiver. Some soldier he is; reduced to a pile of mush the second you touch him.

It tickles slightly, as you trace the patterns of his buzzed hair. But he would never ask you to stop; it feels too nice. The pad of your finger sweeps over his tattoo. His eyes feel heavy as they open, and his chest aches at how close you are. 

"Thank you," you whisper again, eyes boring into him as if you're trying to say something else. He really wants to kiss you.

The sound of footsteps echoing towards the med bay wretches him from his own personal paradise.

Kix backs away from you and your wandering hands. He swallows loudly, and your gaze meets the floor as you deal with your own embarrassment. “Anytime, Officer. Please be more careful. The GAR would be worse off without you.” Kix is pretty sure the GAR would be fine without either of you, but he’s hoping you can tell what he wants to say. (He would be worse off without you). 

You nod and keep your eyes on the ground until Hardcase enters, drawing your attention. He looks at the two of you, mouth open in surprise.

“I was wondering if you could check something out…” he trails off, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. You spring into action, taking the opportunity to flee.

“I’ll leave you to it.” You give Hardcase a warm smile, any nerves you had seemingly evaporating. Before you exit, you look over your shoulder, finally looking at Kix again. “Bye.”

He nods at you in dismissal and tries his best to ignore how your departing gaze fluttering across his chest and biceps makes his codpiece feel too tight. The silence lingers in the air, as he looks at the door, wondering if he should up his chest routine when they're back on Coruscant.

“I can come back later, sir.” Hardcase's lip twitches. "Echo and Jesse are debating what entails "medic shit," and I'd like to weigh in."

“Shut up, Hardcase.”

[yeetus-feetus]

Sugar sugar

(I need to see these WIPs even tho I'm not part of the fandom)

Oh yeah! Crack treated seriously time! Here's what I got of this wip so far:

Kon was planning on buying some new vinyl records when his card declined at the checkout. He tried his second card and, surprisingly, that one declined too. Huh, had he already spent all of this month's allowance already? How?

Probably all the concerts and parties he went to. And the fancy hotels. And that bet he lost to Cassie.

Shit. How was he going to buy food for himself for the next week and a half with no money?

“Hey, can you put those on hold for me?” he asks the lady at the counter, who nods and asks for his name and number so he can come back for them later.

Kon’s first thought is to go to Lexcorp, his pops has heaps of money, surely he can spare a few hundred dollars, right? He flys over and knocks on the large glass windows of Lex’s private office to try and get his attention.

“Yo! Pops!”

Finally Lex looks up, a tired expression on his face. “What do you want now boy?”

“Gimme money! pleeaassseeee?”

“You spent all of your allowance already?? Konner, we've talked about this!” Lex replies in annoyance.

“But I need money for food! And some really cool vinyls... Please Lex?”

Lex just lets out a heavy sigh. “Go ask your father, I'm busy right now.”

Kon frowns and falls away from the window with a huff. Fine, he’ll go find Clark then.

“Ayo!” he calls as he enters the Daily Planet. He can hear the answering groan from Clark’s office upstairs. Benefits of having super-hearing- or maybe not for Clark in this case.

He’s in his civics, so it’s not suspicious when he leans in the doorway of Clark Kent’s office. “Hey Dad, got any money to spare for your eldest?”

Clark sighs. "I'm not your- whatever. You spent all of your allowance again didn’t you? You know this isn’t a sustainable lifestyle Kon, I’m not giving you anymore money.”

“But-”

“No, it’s time you learnt some responsibility here. I’m putting my foot down, you need to learn you can’t just throw your money around.” Clark states firmly, and Kon’s shoulders drop as he pouts.

“No fair.” he mumbles.

Clark goes back to typing on his computer. “You need to set yourself up a system, money management; have a decent amount of money set aside for needs, and what’s left over can be spent on whatever it is you kids do these days. You know when i was your age i didn’t have half the privileges you do-”

Konner had tuned him out past that point, too busy rolling his eyes and totally not up for a classic Clark lecture.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever old man”. Called over his shoulder as he moved to leave.

“Gosh I hope Jon never becomes as difficult or defiant as that kid”, Clark sighs under his breath, shaking his head as he watches Konner walk away, winking at one of the younger reporters on his way out.

Okay, so Kon has zero dollars to his name right now. Right, he can figure this out…

By 'figure it out', he means he’s going to go whine about it to all his friends.

Back at Mount Justice, Bart is laughing at him- like full on cackling. Which, rude. “I can’t believe you spent all your money already haha! Guess you’re gonna have to stay here with the rest of us until daddy’s money kicks back in”.

Kon groans. Those vinyls he wanted can only be held for him for a week, then they go back on the shelves. And it’s not that he’s against staying in here— most of his stuff is here after all, he sleeps here most of the time— but he doesn’t know if he can handle a whole two weeks here with nowhere else to go.

“Yeah, I guess”, he replies defeatedly.

“Well if you learnt some money management-” Cassie begins.

“Don’t start, I already got the Clark lecture.” Kon crosses his arms and slumps further back into the couch in the communal living room.

“What’s wrong with him?” Tim asks, walking into the room.

>ping<

Kon sits up and reaches for his phone on the coffee table as Cassie begins explaining the situation to Tim. Then, suddenly, Kon is standing up and pacing.

“NO FUCKIN WAY!!”

“What happened?” Bart asks, trying to peek at the screen.

“Lex says he and Clark had a conversation about my over-spending habits and have come to an agreement to cut my allowances altogether. Apparently I’m too spoiled and need to experience working a civilian job in order to learn blah blah blah bullshit!” he finishes.

“Well you do need to learn how to manage your spending, but cutting you off completely is a bit rough”, Tim speaks up.

Kon slumps back onto the couch and holds his head in his hands.

“Rough? It’s completely cruel, how is Kon going to keep up his rich babygirl lifestyle”, Bart giggles.

“Shut up Bartholomew!” Kon tosses a couch cushion at his head, which Bart easily dodges.

“You did not just full name me.” The speedster crosses his arms and glares at Kon.

Kon groans loudly and tosses himself back so he’s spread out across the couch dramatically.

“You could just pick up a casual job like the rest of us y’know”, Cassie states, shoving his legs off the couch so she can sit down.

“Me? Work? Nuh uh. Not gonna happen.”

“You’re gonna have to, we all take turns paying for the meals here, you can’t just leach off the rest of us. You know that.” She reminds him. "I think this whole being cut off thing may be a valuable lesson for you”, she tells him with a shit-eating grin.

“But I don't want to wooorkk”, Kon whines. “I was created to kick ass and look pretty, not slave away in some shitty retail job or whatever.” “Oh come on, you’d do great in customer service dude,” Bart pipes up. “You could just charm them all into spending all their money with your good looks. Maybe even get to flirt with some of the really cute ones? Might even get a decent raise if you lure in a ton more customers.”

“What, you want him to basically whore himself out to earn brownie points at work?” Cassie.

“Well when you put it like that… wait actually, maybe being a whore could work for him”, Bart laughs.

“Excuse me!? I’m right here guys!” Kon speaks up. “And I'm not a whore. I’m not going to sleep around for cash!” He pouts.

“No you misunderstand. I meant you should try being a Sugar Baby or something, which doesn’t actually necessarily involve sleeping with anyone. Your boyish charm and perfectly sculpted muscles should be enough for people to throw money at you for no other reason.” Bart explains. “Plus, you wouldn't have to work, and you’d probably end up getting paid heaps.”

Tim finally speaks up then. “Bart’s not wrong. And it’s not a totally bad idea actually.”

Everyone turns to look at him in surprise, Cassie immediately questioning him. “You’re really indulging this idea? Are you serious right now??”

Tim shrugs. “I have a Sugar Baby.”

“WHAT!?” “WHAT???” “Wait really!?” “How!?!?” Bart demands to know.

“I don’t know, it just sort of happened…” Tim rubs at the back of his neck. “He’s only a year younger than me, and he was going to be kicked out his apartment and I don't know... Just, he’s really cute and I wanted to help him out- ...Stop looking at me like you're judging me Cassie!”

“What and you just pay this guys rent because you think he’s cute!?” Cassie questions.

“Well, I pay a little more than just his rent, and he does make it worth it so…” Tim trails off, going a little pink in the face.

“How does he make it worth it?” Konner sits up in curiosity.

“And how much are you spending on him???” Bart.

Tim gives his attention to Bart first. “Well y’know, just his bills, College fees and all that- And occasional gifts or nice dinners when we get time to go out on dates and stuff, mostly we just hang out and play video games together though… sooo yeah", he explains. "Oh, and I have total access to his bank account”.

“Unbelievable.” Cassie comments. She can’t believe they’re only just finding out about this now, with the way Tim talks about it, it sounds like this has been going on for a while.

“Okay, but- what does he do for you, y’know, as a Sugar Baby?” Kon asks, his eyes full of eager curiosity.

Tim goes pink again. “Well, it’s mostly just company outside of the whole vigilante thing. It’s nice spending time with someone in a civilian environment I guess, and Bernard is just so nice. It’s mostly just normal couple stuff I think? Not that we’re in, like, an official relationship or anything..."

Kon hums. “So sex, then. Right?”

“NO!" Tim is quick to shout. "Well, not at first anyway… it’s not centred around that at all- It’s nothing like that in the least!" He explains. "that’s only something that’s come up just recently okay! It was just me helping him out and him being a little flirtatious with me, nothing more …Until about a week ago, okay?”

“Yeah, I am not getting any further involved with this conversion.” And Cassie nopes right out of there.

Tim sighs and watches as she leaves, a little embarrassed. Honestly it’s his own fault for mentioning it in the first place.

“Byeee Cassie!” Bart calls after her, giggling.

“Okay well flirting and occasionally going out on dates is easy, I can do that”, Kon concludes.

“See, told you. You could easily be a Sugar Baby!" Bart beams, mostly just happy that one of his ideas was actually a good one.

“Yeah so, Tim, I could just be your Sugar Baby right?”

Tim sputters and goes even more pink. "What!?”

“Well Sugar Daddies usually have more than just the one Baby, right?” Bart.

“Well yeah but- I wouldn't exactly refer to myself as a uhm.. I am only 19", Tim reminds him, "and I mean- well... Yeah that is sorta true but-”

“But what?” Bart asks cheekily. “Come on! you helped out this Bernard guy. You wouldn’t help out your absolute hunk of a teammate?C'moooon Timmy, look at this poor boy, not a single cent to his name”, Bart teases.

“Yeah, and you could do that money management thing or whatever if you have access to my account too!” Kon says, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Well- yeah, um. Okay, let me just take a moment to really think this through before I do something stupid.... I’ll get back to you.” And just like that, the flustered little Robin was out the door.

Bart turned to smirk at Kon. “Nice! You totally got him, I bet you by tomorrow afternoon you'll have the money for those sweet vinyls dude- And I am so gonna tweet about it!”

“You will not tweet about it! My dads can't know! And I'm sure Batman wouldn't appreciate it", Kon replied firmly. "And that's if Tim even agrees to this.

“Oh he will, trust me.”

I want Kon to end up meeting Tim's other sugar baby and immediately realising Tim was right about him being cute. More than cute even, absolutely stunning.