#but he's my baby so i've gotta share him eventually

[starweed]

i don't talk about it much, but i'm actually a pretty big fan of mdzs, and i actually have a fic set in the mdzs universe!! the fic is linked above, and i just updated it today. it’s the first fic in a series, and it’s my oc, who’s the non-canon brother of jiang fengmian. the entire cast is very near and dear to my heart, and it’s a very self-indulgent story.

i’m a little bit scared to share it, but if you do decide to read it i hope that you enjoy!! (don’t tell me if you don’t)

[zweetpea]

Mrs. “Wayne”

Content warning: Swears, Arranged Marriage, talks of having an heir, Mentions of Bruce’s Affairs, Nightwing x Starfire mentioned

Based on this since no one else has done it (or at least not that I've seen...)

BTW guys if you want to write something based off something I write I ask that you tag me in it. (Unless it's like a broad thing... like if you see my post about Bruce bringing home a girl that he met and married that day then write a fic around that idea I ask that you credit me, but if you see my Yandere Bruce x reader and decide to make a "baby fever! Bruce x reader" that's more general so I don't think it would be fair of me to ask for credit.)

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

"Honey I know you're angry with us but it's what’s best for you. He's the richest man in the country." Your mother fixed your veil.

"He's a whore. And what's worse is that he doesn't even consider how it even affects his kids. I just picks up orphans off the street like they're lucky pennies or a 20 dollar bill for him." You grimaced.

"You know what a..." She sounded appalled. "20 dollar bill is? Oh how I've failed you as a mother."

"Don't be so dramatic." You rolled your eyes.

"Are you ready to go?" Your father entered into the private room. "You look beautiful Princess."

"Thanks dad."

"Come on." He grabbed your hand as you grabbed the bouquet. You wrapped your arm around his as you two walked down the isle to your soon-to-be husband, Bruce "Brucie" Wayne.

You looked down through the entire ceremony, up until the Vows. Brucie's were short and sweet. "We may not know each other too well but I swear to be loyal, thoughtful, and truthful through our entire marriage." At which you heard a faint snort from the front row. You slightly glance over and see a young man a few years younger than you trying to hold laughter, his white streak bobbing as he shook with laughter. Brucie's glaring at him.

You turned back to your inevitable spouse and said your vows. "I promise to stand by your side in all your endeavors, even if that means adopting 10 more orphans you pick up from the streets like they were stray cats." You said in a monotonous voice.

You two finish off the ceremony with the standard ceremonial officiator speach.

"Do you Bruce Wayne take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

He turns to me. "Do you-"

"I do." You cut him off. Surprising everyone with how forward that was. Some whispers were heard amongst the crowd, undoubtedly calling you a gold digger for being so eager to get this ceremony over with.

"Well at least she's eager! That's almost gotta ensure this marriage lasts right?" The officiator jokes to ease the tension. "If anyone objects to this marriage please speak now or forever hold your peace." The same young man who was laughing held up his hand but it was pushed down by a man about your age sitting next to him. "Then you may now kiss the bride."

You and your new husband shared a chaste kiss before you ran down the isle and out to the limo. And after a short drive you made it to the spot where you were scheduled to take your wedding photos and have the reception.

The reception was void of life, stuffy, like all those galas your parents forced you to attend. Hopefully this didn't end up like one of the incidents of Brucie flirting with milfs, sticking his tongue down a young squeezes throat, or twerking on ice sculptures.

Eventually Brucie takes you over to the loudest table in the place. "Wifey, these are my kids and co. Dick my oldest, the trouble maker who laughed during the ceremony is Jason, my oldest daughter Cass, the middles Stephanie and Tim, and Damian my youngest. Then there's Barbara Commissioner Gordons daughter, and our newest member of our family Duke."

"I'm the only blood child." Damian points out.

"Let's hope debauchery isn't hereditary."

Jason bursts out laughing at that. "I like her already."

"Really? Cause I had to hold your hand like a toddler during the ceremony to keep you from throwing a tantrum like a toddler." Dick points out.

"Can you blame me Dickie. She's your age. If anyone should be having a hissy fit it's you. Well you and maybe Babs."

"But we're not. So can't you be mature about this."

"I think Todd's lack of manners have become more acceptable considering what she said. Now it stands out less. Congrats Todd, you're now the family's second biggest embarrassment." Damian rolled his eyes.

"Haha" You laughed sarcastically. "What are you stray cats fighting over anyway that has you so rowdy? Someone throw out a can on anchovies?"

"No we're just excited to have a new Mom." Dick smiled at you.

"Oh looks like my new Father-in-law is calling me over for some business talk. I'll be back, Wifey. You just stay here and mingle." Your husband walks away and you turn back to the Brucie bunch.

"I know you guys probably don't like me or find it weird that I'm so close to your guys ages. Do me a favor and just put up with me for say five to ten years." They looked at you confused so you elaborate. "Brucie and I signed a prenup that if I asked for a divorce I'd get nothing. But give it a few years and he'll find a new fling. They'll get caught and he'll ask for a divorce to save his image. Don't worry I'll only ask for at most a million. Standard sum for a celebrity of his caliber."

Damian glares at you. "You skank."

"I'm being realistic. As a woman in high society you get to be a man's pretty young thing till you're 40. By then you've either started your own multi-million dollar business or you're the divorced crone who can't do any better. Most relationships of this caliber are shams held together by pool boys and secretaries. Or the few lucky ones that got married for love instead of PR."

"Bruce isn't like that." Tim defends.

"Oh please. I've seen him go to a date with a woman and leave with two completely different women than the woman he arrived with." You rolled your eyes

"Maybe when he was younger, but he's changed." Duke stood up to confront you.

"It's nothing personal kids, it's just business. I don't care if that's how he chooses to live his life. I won't be around much to see it anyway, I'm going to be rather busy." You shrugged, seemingly above it all.

"Busy with what?" Cass glared.

"Trading stocks and such, preparing for the inevitable divorce. Maybe I'll go sponsor some artists or a theatre production if I'm bored. I don't know, but what I can tell you is that it's coming." You turn around to walk away and see Brucie already flirting with another woman. "And from the looks of it, it's coming sooner than we could've ever guessed." You smirked, feeling vindicated. The rest of them looked on in horror.

After the reception you two left on a rather uneventful honeymoon. The private villa was garish and gaudy. It felt like a petty excuse to flaunt his wealth especially because you two spent the entire trip sleeping in different rooms. And on top of all that half way through he up and left you with his black card and flew back to the mansion to deal with an "emergency". Your best guess was a whiny sugar baby was getting pissy.

At the end of the trip you flew back and had to catch an uber home. None of them even came to pick you up from the airport. Though with how they reacted to your statements at the reception could you really blame them?

Regardless you practically snuck into the mansion with the help of Alfred who showed you to a small guest room on the first floor. It had a single queen sized bed without even a comforter, just a white duvet, and on either side of the bed were nightstands.

"Thank you Alfred." You nodded to.

"You're welcome." He bows. "If there's anything else you need please feel free to inform me immediately."

"Brucie left this with me in his vacation home, can you give this back to him and tell him I said thank you for the take out?" You handed over the black card.

"Take out?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. And for letting me use the Wayneflix account while I was there. If I may make a slight suggestion, give your regency era shows more attention. Thank you Alfred. I'll go unpack now."

"I've already taken the liberty of unpacking your clothes into the wardrobe and dresser." He revealed.

"You didn't need to do that."

"I know you requested that I not but I felt I'd rather have your room ready for you than for you to stress when you arrived." He bowed.

"That's very sweet but I have a very particular system. My outfits all fit together in a specific way." You start to rearrange your clothes in the way you see fit.

"Might I learn how you like them so I can properly sort them next time?"

"No, it's okay. I can do my own laundry." You offered.

"Have you ever done your own laundry?" He raised an eyebrow accusingly.

"Well... no." You confessed. "But you already have like 14 other people's laundry to do. I don't want to be a bother. Besides I don't want you to waste a few weeks when it won't matter in a few years."

"So Master Damian has told me you've said. Nevertheless I'm willing to learn to do this if you are willing to learn how to do your own cooking and laundry."

"Why are you helping me?"

"I've met many people whom Master Wayne has brought into his life. You are the first who's actually wanted to fend for yourself. If you are running a long con into Master Wayne's pocket it's either the smartest or the dumbest plan I've ever seen concocted. Besides, many of the Wayne's don't currently reside here full time. Master Dick lives with his wife missus Koriand'r. Master Jason lives in a renovated greenhouse studio apartment. Miss Barbara and Miss Cassandra live as roommates. And Master Wayne lives in either his WayneTech or home Office. I have more than enough time to learn."

You genuinely smiled for the first time since you heard about the engagement. The two of you spent the rest of the day organizing clothes and making cookies.

"-And that is the difference between Light Academia and Pastel Academia.”

He looked stunned. "How do you keep all this straight?"

"It's just something I got into because I wanted to disassociate from my hopeless reality. I figured fake it till you make it right? Someday I could have a different, more quiet life. And finding subtle nuances between aesthetics is honestly fun. Like a game of spot the difference."

“Oh my! Look at the time! It’s already 4 o’clock!” Alfred looks stunned at the time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spend four hours talking about this.”

"It's quite alright Missus Wayne."

"I'll go bring these to Brucie. Might as well let him know that he's not getting any inheritance from a tragic accident that happened to me."

"Master Wayne cares for you. I hope you know that. It may not be in the most... romantic measure... but I swear that he was not lying on your wedding day when he said he'd remain faithful to you." Alfred tried to reassure.

"If you say so Alfred." You gave him a small smile.

Alfred looked at her sadly as she walked away. He wished there was more he could do to help you fit in around the manor. Someone as grounded as you would be a good addition in Brice's life, he just knew it!

Later in the Batcave, Alfred confronted Bruce

"Master Wayne I have an idea on how to keep your new wife busy."

"Why should I care about what's she's doing with her life? I have more important things to do than to worry about than some nepo-baby throwing a tantrum.

"Why should you care? How about the fact that you have never had a serious relationship and making this work is crucial for your public image? How about the fact that she has given up her entire life to cater towards your brash decision after one petty comment Mr. West made about your love life?" Alfred started listing off reasons; becoming more irate as he did. "How about the fact that if she's not kept busy during the day she'll eventually stumble upon the entrance of the Batcave?"

That peaked Bruce's interest. "I'm listening." He swivels around in his chair.

"Offer her a job as the family's social media manager." Alfred proposed.

"What? Why?" Bruce looked at him, skeptically.

"She's very knowledgeable about different aesthetics and trend. She could make this family look..." He tried to find a nice word to describe them.

"Normal?" Bruce interrupts with an almost bored look on his face.

"I was going to say civil but that works too." Alfred shrugged as Bruce groaned. "Don't take it the wrong way Master Wayne. I love this Family with all my heart but you cannot deny that they can be a bit rowdy at times."

"A bit is an understatement. It would look good for your PR... fine. Go ask her... but If it is not up to Wayne Enterprise standards you're firing her for me!"

So that's what you've been doing for the past few months.

"Jason, I'm telling you, motorcycles are out! Most girls aren't going for the bad boy vibe anymore! They're into Timothée Chalamet!" You argued over the phone with Jason, Bruce's most rebellious child, even more so than the 12 year old pain in the ass! "Fine, we'll talk later. I have an unexpected visitor anyway." You looked behind you as Bruce entered.

Bruce made a habit of being loud around the house for her. You knew he was being exceptionally weird but you didn't exactly know why. You didn't really care all that much either.

He came up behind you and started to massage your shoulders. "Jason giving you trouble again."

"...yeah." You said shrinking into yourself. The one thing you hadn't quite gotten used to was Bruce's attempts to flirt with you. You knew that he wanted to keep public image favorable, but it didn't make sense why he flirted with you behind closed doors.

He leaned down and started kissing your exposed shoulders in your off the shoulder sweater dress. You wriggled out and away from him in discomfort and he looked at you puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like you touching me." You confessed. "I don't- ...I don't see us that way... I'm sorry."

He sat on the edge of your desk. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should apologize. It's just that... we haven't done anything yet and-"

"And what? You think I'm a slut that's just going to put out for you?" You interrupted.

"No! I just meant that you were probably wanting me to... be more romantic... I thought you'd want me to instigate something..." He stood there, not knowing what to do.

"Well you thought wrong." You left your office angrily. You stomped out of there and went to the library. You looked over all the books they had. Classics like the Iliad and Crime and Punishment to so many romance novels. But one book in particular caught your interest. The History of Taxes.

"Who wants to read about taxes?" You cringed. The book looked relatively untouched. 'Typical,' you thought. 'Rich people can't even be bothered to try and read the books they have in their house.' She went to pull it out and found the bookshelf moving.

On the other side was the answer to one of the greatest mysteries she's had since she came to Gotham, "Who is Batman and Co?"

There it was! The Batcave and All it's glory...

Oh... the bags under his eye of sleepless nights, the flirty persona, the stomping around trying to make his presence known to you.

"Bruce Wayne is Batman..." No sooner had you said those words did you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head and the world fade into darkness...

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Six

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Six is here, sorry it took a bit but it's been a long week and I've lacked the incentive to actually start writing:/ BUT I honestly do love this next part, so I hope you do too!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

We’d kept the whole outing on the low during the ride over to Rosie’s school– seeing as the kid couldn’t tag along– and instead spoke of her lessons, what teachers she was dreading as well as the snazzy lunch they’d all been promised the week before, before she then mentioned the call that she’d had with her sister earlier the previous day. Which had ultimately reminded me to text my own on our way over.

After we’d watched the girl waltz up the school steps, bag in hand, Em and I finally managed to pull out of the mayhem that was ‘drop off’, Marshall having received more than his fair share of lingering looks from mums in passing cars and the one teacher that was on lookout, much to my amusement. And so it was only as we drove off that I looked over to find that he was wearing this tiny, barely there smile that on him all but screamed drollery.

“What?” I questioned around a wry chuckle, glancing between him and the stereo whilst I messed around with its many buttons in hopes to find a better channel.

Marshall shook his head minutely at me and continued to drive, though that smile of his stayed put.

“Come on,” I prompted again after settling on a station that would just have to do and hiked up a knee so that I could turn a little to face him better, “What’s got you all smiley?”

He cocked a single brow and shot a look my way. “Smiley?” He repeated sardonically.

“Yes, smiley.” I pestered, then impulsively reached out to drag my finger over the curve of his mouth, not even second guessing the gesture. To my surprise though the action only made him blow out a mirthfilled breath and swat the offending limb away. I bit back my own grin, “It’s this thing, see, that happens when you contract the muscles in your face.”

“Huh,” Em said, pretending to mull the words over before he eventually turned to me wearing the stupidest face, “How many you reckon I’m pulling now, hey? Nah, come on now. How many?” He continued to prod after he’d only received an amused scoff in return from me. 

Marshall pushed away from the steering wheel when we slowed at the next stoplight so that he could lean over the centre console far enough to poke at my side. The move had me laughing at his sudden playful manner, backing me into the passenger door to escape.

“It’s all in the wrinkles!” I exclaimed in retort to his question, exerting myself even further when a hand jumped over again to pinch at my waist in retaliation, “You just gotta pay attention to them and–” I attempted to dodge the next onslaught of fingers which threatened to dig into my side, “and then I reckon you can count the muscles!”

“Fuck you, man.” Marshall snickered in relent, shaking his head at me after one last prod before we both jumped at the sudden sound of a blaring horn. All those facial muscles of his were quick to drop into a prominent scowl at the scare we’d been given when he shot an aggrieved look back at the driver behind us. Em gritted his teeth and switched gears, letting the car roll through the now green light at a pace set just to further aggravate the guy following us.

I rolled my eyes at the second beep and went to gesture something at the other guy when I was hastily reminded of the car’s too-tinted windows, so instead I just slumped a tad in my seat. “Americans.” I clucked, lips then twitching at the way Marshall’s head snapped over to me, eyes narrowed.

“Careful there, woman.”

With an impish grin, I widened my own eyes tauntingly in retort as he sped up, “Or what?”

Those familiar baby blues flickered across the expanse of my face, taking in the faint freckles and the bow of my lip, then they dropped down to the position I’d since manoeuvred myself into, observing, analysing even. Before they eventually slid back out the front window. 

“Tempt me and find out.” Is all that he replied before we were going around the next bend a little too quickly, fast enough to have me bracing myself on the side door just so that I could catch my balance. 

I watched on as he merely smirked, thumbs tapping effortlessly against the wheel to the radio, knowing full well what he’d just done.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit that it was much of the same antics throughout the rest of the journey too, Em pointing out stupid shit just so that he could jerk around and swerve a little too hard, which then prompted me into winding down my window so that I could call shit out to whatever unlucky fucker just managed to be passing by. 

The first time I’d done it he’d almost lost his nut, eyes as wide as dinner plates whilst he’d attempted to reel me back in and away from the window, probably waiting for somebody to recognise us, or rather him. But we’d been gone too quickly, only the last few decibels of my thick English accent trailing through the air behind us. 

I’d practically cackled at the picture he’d painted when I’d fallen back into my seat, his head swivelling every which way in a bad impression of an owl to try and catch a glimpse of the next supposed pap. Eventually though, he’d started to chuckle too, obviously having found somewhat of a thrill in it, and then egged me on to do it again. Not thinking that I actually would.

So we made a game out of it, switching up accents, pretending to know people we didn’t, telling pedestrians that their fly was down or that they had shit on their shoe. Even managed to get someone to knock on some random door, telling them that we were waiting on the guy who lived there. 

The one that Marshall seemed to prefer though was when we’d stopped at another red light and I’d wound down my window once more to start up a conversation with this older looking fella crossing in a pair of sunnies. He’d blinked at me, the guy, when I’d asked him how his husband was doing, questioning the most recent surgery and the man’s pruning addiction, before I’d switched up tactics completely and mentioned the dodgy kebab I’d had the night previous, clinging to my stomach and grimacing through the supposed unease I felt. 

The second the light had flashed green Marshall had floored it, shaking his head at the expression that had marred the poor guy’s face and grinning over at me like a madman. It’d made me wonder when was the last time he’d granted himself a little freedom, instead of constantly stressing about the public and media's perception. It got me thinking.

Soon enough though the crowded city shifted and changed once more, morphing away from the high-risers and scenic views into too many condemned buildings and yellowing sidewalks. I’d leaned forward in my seat to get a better look out of my window as we’d passed by a block of shuttered shops, taking in the swift adjustment. Em though, he only seemed to get more and more tense the further in we drove.

“Oh, shit! Look at that.” I suddenly awed after a short while, eyes having immediately been captured by the grand display of colours which lined the next street we drove down. It was a mural of sorts, painted along the side of what I could only dub as an offie, and so precise that it almost looked like the letters and characters were jumping out at you, forcing you to actually look and see. 

“Fuck, you don’t see work like that often,” I added as we drove on, Marshall’s gaze flickering back and forth between the mural and I before it was out of sight. Me though, I was still grinning and giddily leant in to explain how… “Back home it was all gang tags and area codes, but you could always find the odd piece hidden away if you knew where to look. More central though, you know? They put them on display up there like some kind of gallery, especially in the touristy parts. But in truth, they’re nothing like that– or that!” I found myself gasping again, crowding further forward in the car, enough so that my knees knocked into the dashboard to get a proper look at the next graffiti outline that cropped up.

It was of Diana Ross, afro swooping along the building's top edge as she posed, shoulder facing forward, eyes staring off into the sky above us. Her skin was a flood of blurred blues and vibrant purples, blending into a dark contrast that had been used to further accentuate her features; the long lashes, the effortless pout, and those all too familiar statement earrings.

Passing by, I almost wanted to ask Marshall to stop, I even went as far as to open my mouth to do exactly that until I witnessed the calculating look he’d since taken on. My brow furrowed at the sight of it, but he must have realised me looking all too quickly because in a split second he was watching the road again, face blank as he turned the wheel effortlessly down the next street.

I settled back into my seat and allowed my gaze to linger on the window and the world beyond it, feeling a tad bit settled now that we were away from the hustle and bustle of the inner city. It wasn’t that I disliked it so much that I would go out of my way to avoid it completely, it was just that I’d always been wired that way, no matter where I went. Much preferring the back streets, side alleys and cramped parade of shops to the metal structures that rose cloud high and the people who didn’t give a fuck beyond where they were headed. 

Trips into central London as a teenager, and even now as an adult, I supposed, always seemed to leave me feeling all itchy and cornered. It was just a lot to take in being surrounded by so much mayhem and all I ever really wanted to do once I was able to step through my front door at the very end of the day was to wash it all away completely in a too warm shower.

Even the thought of home had me smiling though, listening as the radio carried on humming out a dull tune, the frequency buzzing every so often. Em stayed tightlipped beside me, hunched in his seat as we drove through the next couple streets full of worn and tired houses, some boarded up, others littered with cardboard boxes and the like.

I licked at my lower lip and shifted after a while, dragging my stare away from the many mailboxes, and how they differed from the letterboxes we had back home, over to Marshall himself. I waited a beat or two, figuring he might finally speak up, but to no avail. “So,” I began instead, voice soft in the stillness that had since encased the car, “You gonna tell me where we’re headed yet?”

There was a pause, and then, “Figured I’d give you a real tour, didn’t I?” His eyes flickered over to me, then darted away again. I gave way to the small bout of patience I seemed to somehow own and it actually paid off because although Marshall’s jaw worked itself around his next bout of words, he did eventually say them, “City’s cool and shit, but it ain’t me.”

Looking over at the man, I observed the way his lips pressed together ever so tighter into a fine line that dimpled his chin and how his brow then furrowed even when his stare on the road didn’t dare falter. After hearing the reply I had an inkling of sorts about where we were heading, but nothing concrete enough to get my hopes up, especially not with the way he was acting. Growing more uneasy the further the wheels beneath us travelled. 

“And what’s that meant to mean?” I wondered aloud, keeping my voice soft and light as my head lolled back to rest against the seat rest and continue watching. The picture of pure innocence.

My gaze tracked the motion of his tongue when he rolled his lower lip inwards to lick over it. His front teeth prominent in the slight gesture, reminding me of the fact that once upon a time they’d been a lot more bunnylike. “You shared some tough shit with me yesterday,” He spoke, releasing his lip just as his hand rose to knuckle the underneath of his nose, “And you know, this is my way of repaying that, I guess.”

I couldn’t help my slight frown, “You don’t need to repay shit, Em. I didn’t tell you all that crap yesterday to gain something from you, especially not something that’s obviously making you uncomfortable– ‘cause yeah, I’d have to be an idiot not to have realised how your shoulders have pinched higher and higher the closer we’ve gotten to wherever the fuck we’re headed.” 

Letting slip a faint chuckle at his slight grimace, my eyes roamed over his side profile, willing him to look back at me and see the sincerity I felt. 

“But telling you about my sister and my past, that was me letting you in, alright? Means we’re friends now, even if you don’t see that. And, you’ve let me into your life too, in your own odd way– into your home even. So whatever you think this is,” I paused to shake my head at his stupidity and couldn’t seem to help the heavy exhale I then let go of, “I don’t know, just. I don’t want it, Marshall.”

Silence settled for a stuttered moment. There, there, there until–

“I know.” He sighed, fingers gripping the wheel a little harder in his evident struggle to form an actual reply, so I gave him another second or two to recite whatever it was that he wanted to say. Like usual, Marshall came through, “I know it ain’t like that. This bullshit truth for a truth thing, I never meant it like that. Just–” 

He released another weighted breath, this time it fanned out into a self-deprecating chuckle as he shook his head at himself. I waited in perch, breath captured somewhere between my lips and lungs. 

“This shit’s jus’ weird for me, yeah. I mean, all my guys are people I grew up with here, the same ones I’ve known since before I met Dre, since ‘fore high school even. I kept them round ‘cause I just couldn’t trust the people in this game, you know. But I did try. Tried bringin’ people in after Z got old enough to realise that me and her mom weren’t never gone work out, but that shit never stuck. They see all this and then they pull away ‘cause they realise too quick that this dump is me, that the man with the money is just that. A man that don’t have to just survive no more. That the cash and the rest of all that bullshit is just something that’s there. ‘Cause it aint never been about that for me, I said it from the start. This stretch of road is the place that raised me. That made me. They don’t understand why I can’t turn my back on that.”

I understood what he was saying in a way. I mean, I didn’t have his level of fame, nor had I been in the game for as long as he had. The man was an icon, not just in his genre but to the kids and the people who had grown up in poverty, who’d been seen as the outcasts. 

But still, it was always hard to see just how far past that line you’d drawn in the sand for yourself that the people you let into your life would get. 

Sometimes, they just bulldozed on through it before you’d even known that you’d been letting them toe at it. 

“I wouldn’t ask that of you.” I murmured after a beat, trying to control the way my chest had torn itself a new hole, something that only tended to happen whenever I let people slip so surely past my own defences. “And I know that you know that, Em. I mean, I’ve listened to your music, heard you even talk a bit about your life before this. So I can sort of comprehend how hard it must be for you to allow me this. But again, you don’t have to.” I assured him with a fond smile, humoured by his rational fear. “You could take me to the studio and we could work on lyrics, or we could just go grab some ice-cream. I’d be happy with whatever, so don’t go beating yourself up over this.”

I laughed lightly afterwards, the sound escaping me almost involuntarily at the thought that then hit me, and felt how my eyes wrinkled with the emotion when he turned to peer over at me. “Also, that was probably the most I’ve heard you talk since I got here.”

Surprisingly, his response to that was to just toss the closest thing he had in my general direction, which ended up being a pink pencil of Rosie’s that had been sitting in the cup holder, its top accented by a feather boa. “Fuckin’ idiot.”

Chuckling away, even though he’d managed to target the pencil somewhere between my collar and sternum, I turned to flash him another grin, mostly just to quietly reassure him that I’d been honest with my previous response and that nothing much had changed with him admitting what he had. “You made up your mind then?”

Marshall’s brow furrowed a tad.

I puffed out another disbelieving laugh, “On where we’re headed. Because I should let you know now that I get motion sick after a while.” It was funny at just how quickly his head snapped round to face me at that, looking vaguely alarmed. I snorted in turn and raised my hands up in a mocking show, “Just saying!”

Em shook his head, appearing forever hassled by me. But then those blue eyes of his strayed back on over and I noted how they’d now taken on a whole new sheen. “Come on then, fangirl. Tell me, the numbers 19946 mean something to you?”

I could only blink in answer but apparently that was all that Marshall had needed as he’d laughed around a growing smirk and slowly pulled into the upcoming street reading Dresden.

I didn’t recognise the name, but he hadn’t been wrong in assuming that I’d know those specific numbers. Although, who wouldn’t when they’d been hung above his head on multiple album covers?

Still it was more than a little surreal to me as we drove on closer, dirt slipping under the SUV’s bulky wheels and wilting trees no taller than me passing us by. I kept on glancing around to try and spot the famous build but was surprised to see a condemned lot waiting for us instead of a row full of houses sat on one side. 

Eventually, the car rolled to a slow stop at a roundabout the midway mark, the street practically empty, aside from the few vehicles parked outside of the neighbouring bungalows and those which lined the low curb. It appeared as though the building I’d been searching for had since been charred and had caved in on itself, leaving only a rubble of brick and a lone standing fence removed of all paint in its wake.

I couldn’t help myself as I unbuckled my seatbelt to turn my bemused expression over towards the man perched beside me. But Em had since turned off the car, his own stare caught on the site the same way mine had. 

“Fire.” He said after some time, the low hum of his voice slipping easily throughout the silence we’d since enveloped into, “State owns it now but they tried to contact me after it happened, seein’ if I wanted to bid or some shit.”

I kept quiet, eyes raking over his face which had since taken on a neutral expression, hands laying still in his lap. Not many could relate to seeing their childhood home condemned, I mean I couldn’t. I'd left our tiny flat on the estate the second I’d gotten the chance and had only returned when Lottie had come along, my hate for it growing greater and greater the longer I’d stayed copped up there. When I’d gotten the money off of my first real deal the first thing I’d done was rent the house my mum lived in now, managing to buy it a year or so later just so that Lotts would have an actual home to grow up in, seeing as though I wouldn’t always be around.

“Hurt, I think.” Em admitted with a slow blink, pulling me from my thoughts. “We moved around a lot when I was a kid, but this here was the one place I considered ours. Why it made the album I guess. That, and it looked tough.” 

We shared a small smile when his eyes flickered over to mine for a split second. 

“This why you made it the second cover too then?” I pondered, leaning in closer against the centre console almost thoughtlessly.

Marshall shook his head minutely, thumb flicking over his forefinger once, twice, three times. “Nah, coincidence. Happened a couple days after the release.”

“Mad.” I breathed out and though it had been an unconscious reaction it garnered an airy chuckle out of the man beside me.

“No shit,” Marshall hummed in turn, mouth twitching ever so. “I mean, didn’t expect it but it felt like some sort of weird sign from the universe.” 

I couldn’t help but silently agree with the statement, dragging my gaze away from the lot when the audible click of his seatbelt coming undone sounded. “You been back since?” I asked. It was October now, so almost a year later.

A dip of his chin gave me my answer, before his jaw then ticked beneath gritted teeth. He dragged in a long breath then let it go. “It was a dump even before the fire, all boarded up– had been for years.” He told me, his voice low, “Can remember a lot happenin’ here though.”

My head tilted towards him at the quiet admission and my smile answered it in the same soft ease, “Oh yeah, like what?”

He took a moment to think it through, then this smile etched itself a home on his lips. “Nate, my brother. I remember ma coming home with him from the hospital, seeing the kid wrapped up in this big blue blanket. Man, he was this tiny thing. Jus’ couldn’t wrap my head around it.” He wet his lower lip and his eyes darted back over to the property as though he could visualise it all playing out again, “I was like thirteen, I think. Had been waitin’ for her to get back from, wherever the hell she’d been– ‘cause see, ain’t nobody told me that the woman had even gone into fuckin’ labour.” 

The laugh that trickled out of him at that was unbelieving, as though he still couldn’t accept that fact even now. My own smile grew a little wider. 

“Was here that I wrote my first real song, too.” Marshall revealed after a brief pause, blue eyes meeting mine just before his shoulders slumped a tad, “‘d been writing for years ‘fore that but nothing I was truly excited by, you know. Actually ended up usin’ parts of it in a battle a couple years later, can’t remember against who though, but it stuck with me.” 

I could picture that. A baby Em cooped up in his bedroom writing away for hours on end, losing himself in the words and their meanings. Finally feeling like he’d managed to create something people might react to. 

“Remember it now?” I asked him with an impish grin, my tone teasing but even I wouldn’t say no to a little rendition. But alas, he simply shook his head. Although, I was gifted a round of effortless chuckles. I shrugged, “Worth a try.”

Rolling his eyes, Marshall allowed his arm to come to rest right beside my own on the console stationed between us, he looked to me, “And here I figured you’d grow bored with all this crap.”

My mouth parted in a playful gasp, though there was a big part of me that was really shocked he’d even thought it. “Bored? You could go show me a dumpster you shat behind and I’d be like ‘ah right, that’s cool’.”

He levelled me with an unimpressed stare that had me choking back a cackle. It was almost too easy with him.

“Fine, maybe not.” I relented with another grin as I nudged my arm against his, “But, I don’t know. I’m intrigued, is all. I like knowing shit about the people I care for, even the weird parts. Like, take my mate Sal, yeah? I’ve known him since we were youngens and this guy was always up to something dodgy, but after his nan passed he kind of just dropped off the face of the Earth. None of us heard from him for ages.” I revealed, my own gaze straying back towards the lot, picturing a two storey town house stood there instead. “Didn’t know it before, but he’d lived with the woman his whole life, she’d raised him. So when she moved on, it was like he had nothing left to live for, you know?”

I figured most, if not everyone, had gotten to a point like that at some time or other. Though Sal had been fifteen back then and that had ultimately meant care and getting social services involved, and for a kid like him with a few dots on his record, it had been hell. 

“I went round and knocked a couple days before the funeral, but he didn’t open up. Neighbour said she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since the paramedics had arrived the week before.” It felt weird explaining this now, not when I hadn’t thought about it in so long, but I wanted Marshall to understand where I was coming from and this was the first story that had come to mind. “I ended up grabbing Danny and had him kick Sal’s back door in– which had been impressive if you’d have known the kid before he enlisted. Scrawny as fuck our Dan, but built like a beanpole.”

Em huffed out an amused chuckle through his nose, recapturing my attention. My eyes slid over to him and I smiled, noticing I’d lost myself a little there.

“Anyway,” I tittered, shaking my head ever so, “I ended up finding Sal upstairs in the tub. He hadn’t been about to do anything stupid, mind, was just sort of sat there staring into nothing. Hardly even recognized me when I finally shook him out of it, but then I managed to get him down the stairs and into the kitchen. We made tea, I forced him to chew on some toast, and it was then that the dam broke, I ‘spose. He just let it all go. Everything he’d been feeling.” 

I swallowed at the memory even then, of the tears and the snot, the way Sal’s eyes had kept drifting away. But then Marshall’s arm was pressing closer to mine and the touch drew me back to the present.

Blinking, I peered back at the man. “Eventually, he sobered up and sort of apologised for the state he was in. But it hadn’t bothered me none. Got him up and walking about, and he took that as a sign to show me about the house. Sort of like going down memory lane.” 

I laughed softly then, unable to help myself, none of us had ever visited Sal’s in all the years we’d known him but somehow I’d been lucky enough to have been the first. 

“They had this height thing in their kitchen doorway that measured Sal’s growth throughout the years. Fucker went from 5’4 the year of ‘96 before the next indent of change had been jotted down. 6’1,” I told Em around a humorous grin, vividly picturing the multicoloured markings, “He’d always been lanky, would have fit better as a ladder than the trady he now worked as.” I let slip, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “But less than a year had passed between the two measurements and all I can remember is us just laughing about it. And then about how his nan hadn’t even managed to reach 4 foot 10.”

Marshall’s chuckles filled up the car, easing the emotions I’d gone and dredged up. “How ‘bout now?”

I thought about it. I hadn’t seen Sal in a couple months, but he was my go-to whenever I needed something doing, a proper handyman and somewhat on the straight and narrow. “Uh, hitting that 6’6 mark now. I think?”

Em blew out a long breath. “Shit.”

Laughing, I couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. “Yeah, he towered above everyone at school and that was before I left, so I couldn’t even imagine the leaver’s pictures.”

Our amusement radiated between us, our arms still pressing tightly against one another even though the console could have fit a whole other arm either side of us. The radio’s hum was kept low and so I heard the slight rustle Em’s trousers made when he moved and his knee pushed against the dash. “You left?”

Stupidly, it took me a minute to understand his question and when I did I ended up dipping my head in a show of reply. It wasn’t something I was proud of, leaving school, nor embarrassed about, but it wasn’t something I spoke about very much. Especially not since I’d garnered a base full of dedicated fans. It was one thing to say you didn’t like school but to admit you’d practically dipped and failed out was another thing altogether.

“How old was you?” Marshall asked, looking genuinely curious.

I toyed with the cuff of my sleeve, thinking back on it. “Uh, fourteen? I think.”

“Wow.” He blew out, then grinned, “Got me beat.”

It was the last thing I expected him to come out with, but it was what I’d needed. I laughed before I glanced over at him, a little surprised to find him already looking back. “Why, how old were you?”

“Seventeen.” Em admitted, lips tugging up on one side far enough to form a small crater in the hollow of his cheek, before he let it go and released a huffed chuckle, “Failed the ninth grade three times over. Figured I’d just stick to what I was good at.”

Music, I figured, and thank God for that.

“I just hated it.” I replied, voice breathy but steady. “Messed with my head and I had shit going on at home. Figured it was easier to leave it all, so I did.” I shifted in my seat then, peering at him, “Went to three different schools before they sent me to this pavilion place, full of kids who’d been excluded or were on their last chance. I’d never been a bad student, was smart enough when I applied myself, but I had bigger shit to worry about, you know? Didn’t have time to waste mucking about.”

Marshall hummed in a show of understanding, those piercing eyes of his stuck on mine. “I get it.”

And I knew that he did. There was no judgement or pity, just a shit ton of compassion. The sight of it made me smile and I let go of a small chuckle that had been lurking, gaze flicking away and then back to him again.

Marshall broke the silence that settled after his words, smile smug as he reached for the car’s door, “You wanna walk?”

Eager, I agreed.

–

The sun was still rather high in the sky when we finished Marshall’s short tour of his old neighbourhood. The pair of us had wandered around the rubble, looking for anything that stood out or caught the eye, he guessed whereabouts his bedroom would have been had the house still been standing and let me in on the secret to slipping in and out of its creaky window. We walked a little further down the street after to look out across the large football pitch the block of bungalows surrounded and Em pointed out 7 mile, a stretch of road which separated Dresden from the Baptist church on the opposing side, explaining how he remembered walking it to and from school. 

The many American road signs humoured me to no end and I’d told Marshall so on the way back to the car, hand tucked in our pockets to better shield them from the October winds. “You hungry?” He asked me just as the door rattled closed behind him, already moving to start up the car and get the heat going, “Need gas, gonna stop by the next place we see. That cool?”

I nodded, buckling in. “Could go for something sweet.”

“Shit, and here I was thinking I was sweet enough.”

Gagging theatrically at that gross reply, Marshall snorted at my antics and then shifted the car into gear, pulling away from the curb and away from the lot that once was 19946.

We ended up ducking into a 7-Eleven just off an intersection a while into our drive to… wherever it was we were headed next. Em jumped out first to fill up the tank whilst I waited by the car’s hood, content to just people watch. Soon enough I heard the clunk that let you know that the cylinder was full before I glanced over to watch Marshall jiggle the hose back into its place. The man looked up at the gas pump’s number just before he gestured his head towards the store, joining me on his way over.

It wasn’t too busy, I noted as soon as we stepped through the entrance. There was just an older dude standing over by the fridges full of alcohol and then a kid trying to get his mum to buy him a pack of Takis whilst she struggled with her purse and attempted to keep him in line.

Marshall wandered straight on over to the confectionary aisle and so I followed, eyes surveying the many shelves for anything I might like. Em plucked up a couple candies, some of which I hadn’t seen before, as well as some cherry Twizzlers. I steered clear of the chocolate, never having been a fan of the stuff they sold here, it being so different from those back home, and instead opted for a pack of Sour Patch Kids. Em pulled a face at the selection, which had me rolling my eyes even as I cradled the packet a little closer to hide the sour babies from his horrific judgement. 

“Anything else?” I asked, glancing about the store. It wasn’t too often I got to step into one of these in truth, the last time I’d been on tour and even then my manager, Mila, had been a stress head about it.

With a jerk of his chin, Marshall started to lead me further into the store, past a display case of bakery items and a freezer chock full of ice-creams, and over to where a couple of drink machines were stationed. I raised a brow at the bright assortment of colours I was met with.

Em smirked at the face I must have worn, then pointed towards the many cups that had my eyes widening even further.

“If I got this one I’d need to piss every five minutes.” I marvelled, taking in the Big Gulp cup they offered whilst shaking my head.

Marshall snorted and went to grab at it anyways, “Come on, pussy. We can share.” He then gestured towards the flavours, “Which one you feelin’?”

Still reeling a little at the whole sharing bit, I allowed my eyes to dance over the few levers. The amount of flavours they offered was a little daunting, I couldn’t lie, so with a lost expression I turned back to Em, who looked all too amused by my sudden anxiety. I swatted at his arm with the back of my hand in playful retaliation, “There’s like a hundred.” I hissed out, throwing a glance over my shoulder to see if anyone was around.

“Okay.” Marshall merely dragged out in retort, still smirking away, “Might have been a drop out but I know you can count.” That quip earned him a surprised glare which he just brushed off as he moved closer towards the machine, “Figure we go simple, ight? Next time we can switch it up.”

“Next time?” I wondered as he stuck the cup under the Blue Raspberry fountain, which settled things. Because who didn’t like Blue Raspberry anyway?

Em grunted out a hum, finishing off the slurpee with a slight swirl that had me smiling, figuring that there was a technique to it. “Here for two weeks, gonna load you up on sugar. So best prepare.”

Snorting, I just shook my head at him as he stuck a straw in the drink’s top and began trailing his way over to the counter. “What’s that meant to mean?” I asked whilst he lingered by the gum options, waiting for the guy by the till to wrap up his purchase.

Looking over at me, he grinned, “Gotta give you some incentive to come back, right? Slurpees a sure way.”

I couldn’t bite back the laugh that escaped me at that, grin widening even as my eyes narrowed a tad. “Reckon Rosie’s enough to have me visiting again.”

Marshall slapped the hand that wasn’t holding the frozen drink to his chest and gave me a mock look of shock, “I’m wounded.”

It was then that the door sounded and I glanced backwards to see the earlier man headed out of it, Em caught on too and slid on over to the till after he’d grabbed a pack of spearmint and some sort of gummy. 

“Just this and pump 7. Thanks.” He said to the cashier, settling everything he’d been holding down onto the counter before he reached for the sweets I held. I would’ve kicked up more of a fuss about him paying yet again. But my gaze had already been captured by the cashier and how he was now watching Marshall.

“You that rapper?” The man asked as he started to scan our items. Nervously, my eyes flitted back and forth between the worker and Em, the latter who looked up at the guy for a long second before he dipped his head curtly.

“Yeah, man.” Marshall answered him, lips quirking up politely as he made a grab for his back pocket to grab his wallet.

The cashier let out a huh, “Didn’t think you’d ever be back in these parts. Not with your girl at least.”

I blinked at the assumption he’d made of us but Em breezed on past it, shooting the other man a quick smile. “Ain’t like that, it’s home, man.”

Nodding, the cashier’s fingers worked their way over the till, “Like your shit. Honour to meet you, brother. You too.” He added as his gaze moved over to me, which earned him a genuine smile from both Marshall and I. Mostly because I knew straight away that he had no clue as to who I was, and was simply including me in the sentiment seeing how I was with Em. It took a lot of respect to garner that sort of reaction from people, the cashier’s sincerity stretching out onto the people Marshall just knew.

“Appreciate it.” Marshall told him, clapping the man’s hand in one of those manly shakes guys seemed to do before the cashier then handed over our Slurpee and the rest of our purchases.

“It was good meeting y'all.”

Em stepped back at the obvious farewell, but before I could move to follow him, I jumped forward instead, eyes grazing over the Lotto tickets the store offered. “Can I also get two scratchers, please?”

I felt Marshall’s stare linger on me but didn’t bother looking back as the man behind the counter stepped on over towards the case, “Any specific number?”

Thinking, I licked at my lower lip before I ultimately shook my head, “Your pick.”

With a quick glance over the array of cards, the man tore off two scratchers and settled them down, typing out the total for me. I tapped my card on the reader and then picked up one of the tickets before turning swiftly on my heel.

“Hey!” The cashier called out just as I reached Marshall, the man having hovered a foot behind me the entire time, “You left this.”

I continued to walk towards the exit though, but did stop to flash a grin back over my shoulder, “It’s all yours!”

His mouth parted for a second in obvious confusion, stare dropping down to the ticket he held, and before he could deny it, I was grabbing Em’s hand in mine and leading him out, waving the other man a goodbye.

“Don’t even know if he can take that.” Marshall mentioned once we reached the car, forcing out a disbelieving chuckle as we slipped inside.

Shrugging in reply, I allowed him to pass off the bag to me and watched as he settled the Slurpee in the cupholder alongside the pencil I’d since returned. 

“Where to now?” I questioned, clipping my belt before I handed over the remaining scratcher. Em frowned down at it, so I nodded to prompt him into taking it, “Used to get them with mum when I was younger, we’d get one and then take turns scratching it off. Last time had been mine, but it's been a long while since we mentioned it, let alone bought one. So I’m passing on the tradition. Your go.”

Marshall, for the first time, actually looked beyond stumped, watching me with a heavy gaze, seeming to understand what I was giving away here before he slowly reached out to take the ticket from between my fingers. 

“Go on,” I urged with another smile, tilting my chin at him. “See what you won.”

“If.” Em corrected gently, but did as told, taking his keys and using a stubby silver cut to scratch at the foil. He looked it over once it was clear, then with a small smile handed it back to me. “Five bucks.” He said, buckling in and checking his mirrors before we set off.

I grinned triumphantly and didn’t hold back on my “I told you so.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the grin behind the hem of his hood as he pulled away from the pump, but before I could actually point it out, our attention was then caught by a frantic waving of arms. 

Simultaneously, both Marshall and I’s gazes snapped over to the cashier we’d just left, spotting him all but dangling out of the store’s night-pay window. Marshall was hasty in rolling down his own, stopping the car just before we could roll past.

“I won!” The guy hollered across the lot, “I fucking won!”

I giggled at his excited face, the pure joy that left him in waves. An utter contrast to the chill cashier we’d just been talking to moments before. And couldn’t believe it. 

“Spend it wisely, brother!” Marshall called back to him and there was no mistaking the giant grin that overwhelmed his face as he watched the other man come close to tears, clutching the ticket I’d left for him.

“I fucking won!”

Marshall and I shared a look and by the time we managed to drive away, I was still in a cloud of disbelief. Awed by the reaction and how one gesture had changed another person's life. Em must have felt it too, because he looked over at me and took my hand in his, squeezing ever so whilst still wearing that grin.

And was it stupid of me to admit, if only to myself, that I felt like I’d gone and won the lottery then too?

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Why Didn't Peter Mentor Gwen?

Back at it again with my biweekly anti-Peter B hate post :) 💗 I'm full of rage - MEDIUM length post

If Peter wanted to be a mentor so badly I don't understand why he didn't just mentor Gwen.

Like... Logically speaking there had to be a time where Gwen DIDN'T know Hobie yet and was staying on Campus.

And we already know he was in the Society when she got there - cause he was there to see Gabbie die.

Like he's always talking about wanting to be a mentor.

And then Gwen pulls up to HQ homeless, emotionally wrecked, and in need of a mentor and suddenly he's like 'You got this one Jess 😃'

'I know I literally know Gwen almost as much as I know Miles and I know you're 8 1/2 months pregnant but you got this one Jess'

Like I don't understand 😭😭 the WHOLE movie that's all he talks about wanting to be a mentor so so badly and how sad it makes him that he can't be a Good Mentor

meanwhile Gwen is literally standing there homeless in need of a mentor ten thousand times more than Miles

Why not just mentor her????? She's literally right there

Like.... Do you only wanna mentor Miles or..

And I've heard people say he couldn't have mentored or housed her because he just had MayDay and like-

Bullshit.

Cause there are hundreds of millions of families that somehow can raise a baby and a teenager at the same time.

That's not even a difficult feat. That's not even uncommon???? 😭 Chances are a lot of our parents did the exact same thing - looking after a baby and a fairly independent teenager isn't that bizarre

And also - Peter can go home and put down MayDay.

Jessica can't go home and take off her pregnant stomach. If anything, Jessica would be the one MORE busy and more in needing of rest.

Yet Peter still left it to her.

But sure let Peter walk around in a robe while Jessica gotta play backup for Miguel - must black women do everything in this house.

And even if we say that Jessica is there because she wants to be, which she probably is, EVENTUALLY she's gonna have to take off to have her baby. That's inevitable.

So... What were they gonna do with Gwen then???? Wouldn't it make sense to give it to Peter, knowing Jess is probably gonna be on a short or extended leave soon....

And then there's the excuse that Gwen might not have wanted Peter as a mentor, which ????? Cause what makes you think she'd want a random stranger to be her mentor or a random stranger to try to befriend her or house her.

Gwen won't even talk to her own friends. Chances are Hobie had to do MONUMENTAL work to get Gwen to open up.

So it's not like Gwen just chose to run to people who weren't Peter. Jessica and Hobie most likely would have had to approach Gwen purposefully to build those relationships with her.

Which Peter could have done as well. But he didn't.

Jessica wasn't even running and eager to mentor Gwen, but she still did her best and gave it her all.

Meanwhile Peter B is crying and whining the whole movie about how much he missed Miles and he wants to be a good mentor and father

Meanwhile there is a homeless teenager he personally knows in need of a mentor and he pretends he does not see it

Okay dude. Sure. You totally wanna be a mentor for the purpose of helping kids. Yeah sure, you totally aren't doing this for your own self validation bro.

I even heard someone say 'Yeah well Peter only knew Gwen one day at this point-'

umm umm umm

THE SAME IS TRUE FOR MILES??!!! Which makes this WEIRDER!!!

He's known Gwen and Miles for about the same time, and have shared a lot of the same experiences together but Peter only seems to be interested in mentoring or helping out Miles.

Is that not bizarre?????

Like realistically speaking - Hobie did not meet Gwen day one. Or maybe even week one.

There had to be period in time where - at first - only Miguel, Jess, and Lyla know about Gwen.

And we see that Peter and Miguel are together a lot -or comfortable around each other. So it's not like Peter wouldn't know that Gwen is there now.

So like ??????

Peter were the fuck were you between the dates of Gwen arriving and Hobie meeting her?

That shit not adding up.

Peter wants to be father of the year with his daughter but he be having his daughter in the face of Miguel, who lost his own daughter, and be ignoring Gwen who lost her own father.

Like, dude read the mfing room!!!!

If Peter really wanted to be a mentor he would've begged Miguel to help Gwen.

Instead he wanna monologue about his goddamn baby. Don't nobody wanna hear about your baby.

Matter of fact Hobie should adopt your baby too. Give him MayDay. You don't deserve no children. Actually Hobie runs a foster home now sorry. Rename her to MayDay Brown. It sounds better anyway.

Buti will never understand it

Like how the whole movie he's crying about being a good mentor and letting down Miles meanwhile I'm here like .. gwen,.. gwens crying peter. turn around shes literally about to cry maybe you should Do Something

ESPECIALLY since Gwen needs EMOTIONAL mentoring, not TECHNICAL mentoring.

She's been Spiderwoman years. She does not need Jessica's mentoring style. She needs someone who is going to make an effort to connect with her emotionally despite her difficulties opening up.

But I guess that someone wasn't Peter!!!!!

'I wanna be a good mentor'

Well you're not trying hard enough. You might not even be trying at all. What is Miguel paying you for. He better not be paying you 😭😭

Idk what the hell they're gonna do with Peter in BTSV cause idc what he says or does every time he comes on screen im gonna be looking at him like

'die. sacrifice yourself. dive under the rubble. save gwens life. your only value to me is the relief i will feel seeing you die.'

You don't know how much it bothers me knowing that I have to rewatch this series with him as a character in it. It's like having a shit stain on your wedding dress.

Mentor. Mentor my ass. Hobie is a better mentor to Gwen AND Miles. The dude who speaks in rhymes and riddles can somehow open Gwens Pandora's box of emotional trauma meanwhile Peter b Parker 'forgets' he's wearing a tracking watch.

I am on a war path against this man. I will not be silenced

[roses-r-rosie3]

miguel x Alchemax reader

reader used miguel and ended up giving him drugs to destabilize him because they were loyal to Alchemax. in the society after a long time dating they finally admit they used him

it goes into miguel’s pov focus on lyrics

Hate to give the satisfaction asking how you're doing now

How's the castle built off people you pretend to care about?

Just what you wanted

Look at you, cool guy, you got it

I see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes

Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise

I loved you truly

You gotta laugh at the stupidity

[Chorus]

'Cause I've made some real big mistakes

But you make the worst one look fine

I should've known it was strange

You only come out at night

I used to think I was smart

But you made me look so naive

The way you sold me for parts

sorry if i it’s to much

Vampire

Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader

Warnings: Angst, swearing, drugging, divorce

Quote: “NO! It never would have benefited both of us! It would have only benefited YOU! Not US! YOU!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You and Miguel were dating back when he was still working for Alchemex. You two would always flirt with each other while you were there, and all the flirting eventually lead up to the two of you dating. But the whole thing with a subject dying and stone drugging him, Miguel quit Alchemex.

You however, you were about to quit too after you heard about what happened. But stone was aware of this and he had a plan that could benefit him. He knew about your relationship with Miguel so he called you to his office and offered you a raise if you continued to drug Miguel. You were reluctant at first, but the more you thought about it, the more you started to think about the benefits, and you accepted it. So You lied and told Miguel that you quit Alchemex.

The first time you had to drug Miguel was while he was asleep, after doing it, you immediately felt bad, but you decided to make it up to him by taking him to the mall and buying him whatever he wanted.

“Y/n where did you get all this money from? Didn’t you just quit?” Miguel jokingly asked.

“I found a job that had a high salary, now are you gonna be nosy or are you gonna continue shopping” you fake laughed.

Miguel was a bit suspicious but quickly forgot about it after the two of you were done shopping. The time came and you had to drug Miguel again, and you once again did it while he was asleep. And little did you know 2 times turned into 3 and three turned into a 10 whole years.

You and Miguel’s relationship still remained untouched though, you two still had the same love for each other as when you first met. Miguel even proposed to you, to which you happily accepted, and the two of you got married. However, Miguel was getting noticeably more weak, and you were getting more and more guilty about doing this to him.

You finally had enough. You couldn’t just keep hurting Miguel and act like nothing is wrong. You knew Miguel probably wouldn’t want to be with you, but he deserved to know the truth.

“Hey Miguel can we talk?” You asked.

“Of course baby” Miguel said as he scooted over for you to lay next to him in your shared bed.

You sat on the edge of the bed with your back facing towards him.

“Okay what’s wrong? Is something bothering you?” Miguel asked in concern.

You just broke down in tears, letting out all the guilt that has been building up for the past 10 years.

“Hey, hey, baby just tell me what’s wrong” Miguel said as he hugged you.

“No Miguel, I don’t deserve you” you sobbed.

“Of course you do-”

“No Miguel, I don’t! I’m still working for Alchemex! Stone offered me a raise if I drugged you! And I’ve been doing it for the past 10 years while you were asleep! I can’t do it anymore!” You cried.

“You- you what?” Miguel said, his voice got darker.

“I’m so sorry Miguel, it would have benefited both of us” you tried to plead.

Miguel backed away from you and got off of the bed.

“NO! It never would have benefited both of us! It would have only benefited YOU! Not US! YOU!” Miguel yelled.

“Miguel please-”

“So what?!? You think a simple little apology is going to fix the 10 years of damage you’ve done to me!” Miguel screamed at you.

“I never meant for any of this to happen Miguel, I’m sorry” you croaked.

“So you didn’t mean to take the money?! You didn’t mean drug me?! You didn’t mean to use me?! You used me as a pawn in your little game! You’re pathetic y/n!” Miguel roared.

“I really did love you Miguel, I really wanted to build a family with you” you said weakly.

“Well guess what y/n?! You ruined that family! You ruined our relationship! So what if we did end up adopting a kid?! Would you have still drug me while both me and our kid were asleep?!” Miguel yelled.

“I really thought I could trust you y/n! I really thought you and me would be forever!” Miguel yelled.

“I’m sorry Miguel” you said.

“Stop saying sorry y/n! You weren’t ever sorry for the past 10 years!” Miguel screamed.

It went radio silent for a good 3 minutes after Miguel said that.

“I’m leaving” Miguel said before storming out of your shared house.

You were left there with the consequences of your own actions. You cried yourself to sleep that day. When you woke up, you reached over to Miguel's side of the bed, hoping to feel Miguel's warm body next to you, but instead, you got the feeling of cold sheets.

Before you knew it one day of Miguel being gone turned into one week. At that point, you were feeling hopeless. Until you heard your door bell ring. You rushed to the door to see who it was. When you opened the door, you saw Miguel, but he was holding a paper in his hands.

Miguel shoved the paper into your hands and you looked at it. When you looked at it, and you read through it. It felt like you were hit by a train when you finally realized it was divorce papers, and Miguel already signed his name. You looked up at Miguel with tears starting build up in your eyes once again.

"You really want this?" You trembled.

"Yes y/n, we're over" Miguel said calmly.

It hurt you that Miguel was so calm about it, after all the memories you two built together. But it was only fair because of what you did to him, so you signed the papers and handed it back to Miguel.

"Goodbye Miguel" you sighed as Miguel walked away from your once beloved house of memories.

[bonezone44]

Muddy Waters, pt. 1 (18+)

'Limewash'

Ezra x F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You live with Ezra in Jackson. Joel and Ezra are sometimes partnered for patrol. He doesn't trust Ezra. He doesn't trust you, either, by association, and because you don't have a job. When you finally meet him, he's even less certain than before.

Word Count: 3,5k

next: part 2 (story masterlist) (my masterlist)

tags: NSFW 18+ (not graphic yet). Intuitive!Reader. Afab!Reader (she/they). Southern!Reader. Established Ezra x F!Reader. Pet names: baby. Eventual smut. Eventual cuckold. Eventual threesome (maybe?). Ezra Enjoying Violence. No use of Y/N.

Author's Note: so this is happening. I'm not fighting it and just letting the story come out. Also doing paintings for them because I gotta. I've been reading so much amazing smut recently, this was bound to come out sooner or later. I'm thankful to @toxicanonymity and @walkintotheriveranddisappear for sharing their amazing work and inspiring my own.

=================================

An irritatin’ snake. 

That’s how Joel saw Ezra.

For starters, the man talked too goddamn much. Drove him goddamn crazy when they were out on patrol or in and taking care of the horses. Fucker always had something to say about something and it rode every last nerve Joel had left in his aching body.

Secondly, he was so charming that Joel found it disconcerting. Ezra could make everyone around him smile and feel special. At the Tipsy Bison, when Ezra drank enough to turn his ears pink and his eyes blurry–there’d still be a flirtatious grin plastered on his face. Hell, people loved the man even more when he was drinking. He would finally stop talking so much and listen for once.

But that didn’t mean he was quiet.

Ezra was what people would call an ‘active listener.’ He’d stare into the eyes of whoever was speaking like they were the only other person in the world. He’d follow along real intently, nodding his head, and asking follow-up questions as if he was damn near desperate to learn the answers. He would laugh real loud at any little pun or joke. Shit, he would make even the dullest Jackson had to offer feel like they were a goddamn movie star.

Goddamn! It annoyed the hell out of Joel.

Because thirdly, and most importantly, they didn’t see Ezra’s twitchy fingers or shaking legs when they were alone at night, circling outside the town on horseback. They didn’t see the shift in his face when he would gun down infected–something sick and excited dancing through him. It was even worse when raiders would show up. Ezra looked downright horny.  He’d stroke his gun like it was his own cock blasting holes in people’s heads.

One time, Ezra killed a man and then turned to Joel with a grunt and said, “Doesn’t that feel divine?” He dragged out the word ‘divine’ like he was scraping up poker winnings–slow, indulgent, and haughty.

“Not s’posed to feel good,” Joel chided.

He gave Joel a boyish grin. “Which makes the taste of it that much more ambrosial, don’t it?” He hummed and stared at the barrel of his rifle. “It is an effusive pleasure to be a batter for the winning team.”

Joel scoffed. “Winnin’ ain’t a sure thing.”

Ezra huffed. “I must riposte, brother. We may succumb to a battle or two, but Jackson is winning the long game.”

Joel always twitched when Ezra would call him ‘brother.’ That serpent would never be his kin. “You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do,” Ezra began with his shoulders back and chin high. “Look at history. Look at evolution. Our species thrives with the efforts of cooperation and cohabitation.” He huffed. “And Jackson’s community grows stronger every day.” A gloved finger rose into the air. “Now stay with me for a moment while I explain this.” He paused for dramatic effect to which Joel made no response. “But I believe God sent the fungal plague to start us anew and on an upwardly path.”

Joel’s lip twitched.

“Better the cordyceps than nuclear warheads, in my opinion.” 

Joel glared that much harder.

Ezra held up his palms. “You know as well as I that we were gonna end ourselves on way or another.” He shrugged his shoulder and flicked his head. “At least this way, the earth is still fecund enough for us to plant our virile seed.” Ezra’s left eyebrow curled upward as he chuckled to himself.

Joel huffed all frustrated and leaned forward, resting his elbow on the saddle horn. “How the hell does that make Jackson the winnin team?”

“Raiders are individualistic,” he answered with confidence. “And individualism is a remnant of the old world. Individualism. Capitalism. Monotheism.” He held his palm out wide. “We are evolving beyond it.” He gazed at the dead raider on the ground between them before pointing to it with his rifle. “We’re putting down the dying breeds to secure resources for our symbiotic comrades.” He looked up at Joel again. “And please–” he raised his empty palm. “--do not mistake my analogy for eugenics.” The empty palm found his heart. “We’re killing ideals, not controlling gene pools.”

Joel’s brows shot up. “Are you trying to say that we only killed that man’s hopes and dreams?” He pointed to the body with a thick, gloved finger. “That we didn’t just kill off his family tree?”

“I–” Ezra’s brow furrowed as he solemnly observed the deceased. His lips went tight. “Shit.” He watched the blood soak into the soil. “I guess we are doing a little bit of both, aren’t we?” He looked back up at Joel with that cheerful, boyish smile again.

Joel clenched his teeth. “You gotta be shittin’ me.” He grabbed the reins and tugged his horse back toward the main path.

Ezra held out his arms, gun barrel aimed at the clouds. “No philosophy is perfect, brother. It evolves just as we do on our ascension toward greater realms.”

Joel stopped humoring Ezra after that.

Now you…

Joel wasn’t too sure about you, either. You didn’t have an exact job as far as Joel could tell. You were never on any of the rotations. When he asked Tommy about it in passing, Tommy only said that you ‘contributed in your own way.’

“If you took the time to get to know her, you’d understand,” said Maria.

“Dude, she just gets it,” said Ellie.

Buncha bullshit if you asked Joel.

There was no reason for you to be wandering the town every day without a care in the world, smiling like the sun shined outta your ass and everyone should be kissing you for it. Anytime he did see you in a storefront or at the stables, you weren’t doing anything special. Just… visiting with whoever was doing all the real work.

Like some kinda lazy ass.

He wondered if you were just like Ezra: charming people around you while something twisted boiled underneath.

Were you just as bloodthirsty?

No.

Couldn’t be.

You never ventured beyond the safety of Jackson’s walls and he never saw you arguing with anyone–let alone get into some kinda physical altercation. You seemed pretty happy most of the time. And downright jubilant when you had a few drinks at the bar.

(One time, he saw you gather up a group of women to sit around and play hand games. Hand games. At a goddamn bar. You were singing songs and clapping and even convinced Maria to join and teach everyone the songs that she could remember, too. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Grown women regressing into little girls–and under the influence to boot. There was so much screaming and laughing that the whole bar nearly emptied. Anyone not in on the fun didn’t wanna be anywhere near it. The whole thing bombarded the senses. And then Ellie came home a few days later, clapping her hands and singing the same songs. Joel almost kicked her out the house.)

Were you some kind of a crook? Were you gaining the trust of the people in town as some kind of long con?

It was possible, though unlikely.

And to what end?

You and Ezra seemed so invested. Not just in planting roots for yourselves, but invested in the town in general. Ezra was at every town meeting, offering his opinion and joining the group discussions. Joel never attended himself, but he would hear about it from either Tommy or Maria.

That was another thing! Tommy and Maria liked Ezra, too! They admitted he was ‘interesting’, but couldn’t find any real fault in him.

One night, Joel confronted Tommy about him. 

Joel’s eyes got real wide. “Something’s wrong with that man.”

Tommy laughed. “Everybody’s got somethin wrong with them.”

“You know what I mean.” Joel punctuated his remark with a sneer. Like he was saying something he really meant.

“Look.” Tommy sighed. “I don’t know how to put this, but his wife or partner or however they like to call it–she’s a good influence on him. Keeps him settled, I guess.” He sighed again. “Like… you and Tess,” Tommy added hesitantly.

Joel huffed and clenched his teeth. There was no way. He and Tess were–they were–he and Tess were nothing like Ezra and his ladyfriend. Simple fact. He just didn’t know how to prove it, yet.

For all Joel’s pondering and curiosities–he finally got his chance to talk to you.

You were walking by one morning while he was on his porch drinking coffee. You smiled and waved, he answered by raising his brows at you. But then you stopped dead in your tracks and pointed past him.

“Are those new shutters?” you asked, face all screwed up and confused.

Joel turned his head to see. Even though this was his house. He knew the shutters you were talking about. He turned back to you. “Uhh… yep.”

“When did you put ‘em up?”

Joel’s body tensed. “Last week.”

“Wow. I walk by here every day. I don’t remember even seeing you workin on ‘em.” You shook your head. “How long did it take?” You weren’t smiling or sunny when you asked him, either. You looked downright offended for some reason that Joel couldn’t quite figure.

“Couple days,” he answered with tight lips. He wasn’t sure where your questions were trying to take him.

“Well, shit.” You put your hands on your hips. “How did I miss all that?” You tilted your head and pointed again. “Did you thin out some paint or is that a real lime wash?”

“‘S a wash,” he said. “Don’t gotta prime it or nothin nowadays.”

“Ohh, okay.” You shrugged. “It looks really good.” And while you were giving him a compliment, your face said ‘meh.’

“Thanks.” He glowed a little in his chest. He could tell that you meant it. That you weren’t just being polite.

And Joel didn’t know what made him say it, but he followed up with, “I did the kitchen table, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded his head back. “C’mere. I’ll show ya.”

Next thing he knew, Joel was talking to you about a country music festival he went to when he was 25. It was just him and his old friend, Andrew. Andrew had bought tickets for them and even secured a sitter for Sarah. They spent the whole weekend sleeping and drinking in the back of his truck, singing songs and saying hi to all the pretty girls that walked by.

And when the story was over, and you both said your good-byes, Joel felt more confused than anything. He held a glass of water in his hand. His throat had gone dry. He wasn’t used to speaking that much, because, yeah, Joel just spoke a lot. A lot a lot. More than he’d spoken in years maybe.

And he felt good. Real good. Like a high flutter in his chest that got him all excited to go out and do something. Do something fun just for the fun of it.

But… why?

All he did was show you some work he’d done on the house. Then he saw his guitar and talked about playing again. Then that turned into talking about the music he liked. Then somehow he remembered that festival. Clear as day. After not thinking about it for over two decades.

And all you did was listen.

You just visited.

But it got him all excited. Like he was a little boy making a new best friend.

But… how?

Joel couldn’t make sense of it. And he didn’t have anyone to talk to about it either.

He didn’t like that something so simple could feel so good. He didn’t like that you didn’t do any of the talking. He was supposed to figure you out. Figure out you and Ezra. But this just made him even more confused.

You didn’t listen like Ezra did–all hyped up and dramatic. You made a comment here or there, but nothing significant enough to recall. And you barely asked him any follow up questions.

But you smiled when he said something nice. Chuckled when he said something funny. It was like you were water–rippling out and taking shape in whatever manner he needed you to. Whatever kept the words flowing out of his dry, creaky throat.

But people weren’t water. People were people. They had opinions and wants and needs. And no one could be that easy going, that passive, that submissive without expecting something in return.

Joel needed to figure you out. He just needed to figure out how to figure you out.

+++++++

Now that Joel had officially met you, he couldn’t find you anywhere. He stopped seeing you walking around town. He stopped seeing you in the storefronts. You weren’t around during mealtimes or at the bar at night, either. It was like you up and vanished.

He knew nothing bad had happened. It was a small town. Word traveled fast. If anything had gone wrong, he’d have heard about it an hour later. Two hours, tops. And Ezra would certainly not be walking around so cheerily.

The whole thing was making him all sick in the stomach. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, worrying about you, looking for you. He made to ask Tommy or Maria, but the words never breached his lips. It felt wrong. Like he was gonna expose something about himself that he didn’t want them to know.

If he had known where you lived, he would have shown up at your house. Shit, the man even tried to follow Ezra home a couple of times–lurking in the shadows, stepping real light. But there was always something ruining his efforts. A loud tumble of cans falling over behind the general store. A small group of drunks walking by and talking loud. A goddamn dog barking at him.

Shit.

It pained him–greatly, he might add–but he knew what he had to do. 

He had to talk to Ezra.

Joel waited until they were paired up again for patrol–well, no. That’s not true. He switched shifts with someone to hurry it all up. But nevertheless, he waited until they were alone and out of earshot of anyone else, lest they get the wrong idea about Joel. He was just wondering about her. That’s all. Nothing untoward about it.

Joel cleared his throat, trotting alongside Ezra in the bright light of the full moon. “How’s your uh… ladyfriend doin?”

“Ladyfriend, huh?” Ezra teased. “I like that word. I don’t know how I ever forgot about that one.”

Joel rolled his eyes.

Ezra chuckled. “She’s doin alright.”

Joel slid his jaw side to side. “Haven’t seen her around in a while.”

“Yeah, she gets like that sometimes,” Ezra murmured.

“Is-is somethin wrong? Did somethin happen?” Joel asked, concern evident on his brow.

Ezra’s eyes found Joel. He sized him up as they made their way around the north end of the woods. After what felt to Joel like twenty fuckin minutes, Ezra looked away and sighed. “Look,” he said. “There is no need for you or anyone else to worry–”

“Worry ‘bout what?” Joel’s heart raced in his chest. His hands gripped tight around the reins, leather gloves squeaking. He’d go straight back to town if he had to–patrol protocol be damned.

“She has this feeling that someone is looking for her.”

Joel blinked. “What?”

Ezra sighed again. “She gets the feelings sometimes and sometimes she has misread her notions and sometimes they are accurate.” He stared off. “Disconcertingly accurate, to be honest with you.”

“Once,” Ezra began. “In our early days together, I got shot in my arm.” He pointed to his right bicep. “It wasn’t direct, but it wasn’t a slug, either.” He laughed and shook his head. “This asshole in a fuckin 49er’s cap was firing buckshot.” He looked at Joel with wide eyes. “Can you believe that shit? Buckshot. And the 49ers? Who in the hell liked the 49ers?” He huffed and wiped his mouth. “Now this all transpired down in Louisiana where I was born and raised. At the time, we were somewhere a little east of Houma, which if you don’t know, is mired in swamps and bayous and just… water, water everywhere.” Ezra gazed through the thick of evergreens, sucking fresh air through his nose. “And I was not thinkin clearly at the time.” He rolled his shoulders, eyes blank in disbelief. “Maybe it was the oppressive summer heat or the unrelenting humidity, but I washed the wound with some contaminated water.” He sighed. “As soon as I unveiled my hardship to her, she took one look and said, ‘We’re going to LSU.’” He shrugged. “That’s all,” he said. “And I can remember thinkin to myself, ‘LSU? Where the hell did that idea come from?’ We had been trying to go back east. I wanted to keep trekkin towards Florida, hopin we might find some help along the way, but she told me no. Said we had to go north. Go get our purple and gold on, I suppose.” He grimaced. “We walked a day straight. Now I mean that.” He stressed his words with widened eyes. “Twenty four hours of walkin. No little catnaps under the shady oak trees or dippin our toes into the creek.” He took a deep breath. “A whole day.” He exhaled laboriously.

“And I… started gettin feverish toward the end of our journey.” He closed his eyes. “I could feel every little pellet as it pulsed and bulged with pus beneath my skin.” He shuddered and opened his eyes. “I thought I was gonna start devolving into the Thing. Thought I was gonna have to strap dynamite to my torso and blow myself into smithereens.” He threw his arm up, exasperated. “She wouldn’t let me search any of the Eckerds or pharmacies we passed. Wouldn’t let me stop walkin neither.” He laughed dryly and sighed. “We make it to the LSU campus. We walk up to the gates.” He threw his arm up again. “And those people took us right in. No questions asked.” It was a good thing, but Ezra sounded so frustrated. “Got me cleaned and bandaged. They fed us.” He shook his head. “They even gave us each a new pair of shoes. Nike’s.” He looked in Joel in whole-hearted disbelief. “Swoosh on ‘em and everything.” He huffed out a laugh. “She just knew. She knew where to go and how to get us in. Didn’t need a map. We were out and exposed, walkin along the main roads. And when we got there, she spoke to the doctors and got me a change of clothes, too.” He chuckled. “She slept about a week straight after all of it was said and done, though. Poor thing could barely stay awake long enough to eat.” He hummed. “She had exhausted her mind, body, and soul to get me to where I needed to go.” He smiled with tender warmth. “I am forever grateful to her for that.”

“Sh-she just… knew?” Joel asked.

“She just knew.”

“Y-you think she’s right this time, too?” 

Ezra threw his head back and laughed. “Now, she is resolute to be right and true this time.” He grinned. “Her worries are beginnin to snake themselves into my mind, as well.” He turned to Joel with a playful smirk. “Past few days I could have sworn someone was following me in town.” He shook his head, still smiling. “But I know there’s no real danger in Jackson and the daily reports offer nothing of significance. I am inclined to believe that she has misread her notions again.” He sniffed. “‘Cause the real danger–” He pointed to the words with his chin. “The real danger is all out here.” He narrowed his eyes as his breaths grew heavy.

Joel watched as Ezra gripped the horn of his saddle with both hands, leather gloves twisting and creaking. He lewdly rolled his hips into the rise of his seat with a grunt.

Ezra turned back to Joel with a devilish grin–leaning toward him with slack shoulders. “Let’s go kill us some infected, brother.” He bit his lip before turning and trotting deeper into the trees.

Joel sucked his teeth. “Sick fuck,” he said under his breath and followed.

+++++

The following morning, Ezra woke you up on the couch after returning home from patrol. He pet your shoulder while you laid wrapped in your blanket.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you mumbled with your eyes closed.

“How you feelin?”

“Like shit.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he cooed.

You didn’t move. Only grunted.

“Guess who was askin’ after you?”

You grunted again.

“Joel Miller.”

‘Joel Miller?’ you thought. ‘Why?’

Then it clicked.

Fear left your mind and body and was quickly replaced with fury.

You shot up with a gasp. “Oh my god!” you shouted.

“What?” Ezra reeled back with his palms up in surrender. “What?”

“That’s who’s been lookin for me!” You balled up your blanket with righteous anger and hopped up from the couch. You threw the tangled wool fabric to the floor. The fact that it was too soft to make a sound when it hit the wood just pissed you off even more.

“Him?” Ezra’s eyes glittered, a small smile on his lips.

You squeezed your fists tight. “That motherfucker!”

+++++

-----

part 2

(story masterlist)

(my masterlist)

[huh-1260]

So the LU gundam AU continues and

Wind and Twilight the only non clone children of the Chain! Bow I've shared some details from the LU Whumpever server, so I shall make a separate post for those details, BTW I just realized I forgot to mention Four on the server.

But, back to Wind and Twilight. Wind is a regular person (for now) but he's a space pirate. At first I was going for something like Mobile Suit Crossbone Gundam, but my ass is so unfamiliar with it, so I'm leaning more into the Gundam Astray story. So for Time's finally fight with the government, before he goes into the Fierce Deity equivalent of a Gundam (maybe I'll draw it later) to fight Skull kid/Majora (spoilers: Skull kid dies). With Legend's creation, which only happen because they found the arm of Time's original Gundam. So for Wind, he found the rest of the mobile suit. And because of certain details, aka the Time travel ability of the Ocarina of Time, the time ability goes to Wind to be the Phantom Sword (Lol I might call Wind's Gundam the Phantom Gundam). But for Wind's windwaker, that's where Wild comes in. Now it was very easy for me to say Wild and his team/Champions were abandoned to die but bot the state of the mobile suits. Now the Champions are dead, because it was a suicide mission. And for Wind's replacement arm for the Phantom Gundam, is Revali's mobile suites arm because fuck yeah Gundam Astray Gold frame with the Blitz arm. And with Wind basically not repainting the suit for some time that's how the Governemnt knew Time was alive and just deserted the army, so Time is considered a traitor to the government.

Which leads me to Twilight. Twilight is Time and Malon's son. (uh I forgot the two people that are Twilight's adopted parents in some people's fics so they're babysitters/godparents for Twilight because I feel bad for leaving them out) The Fierce Deity mobile suit was repurposed for Twilight's mobile suit, much to Time's argument against mobile suits because killing Skull kid and reading his older brother figure file of him dying in mobile suits still haunts him. (Hehehe Warriors isn't actually dead but hehhehhehe that makes the reunion more angsty along with the HADES system, ill probably rename it to SPIRIT or FOCUS if i figure out a way to make the system based off the HADES with those letters.) Twilight is a rebellious kid. Gotta keep the Gundam tradition alive by having children in Mobile suits fighting in a war they have no idea about. Also I'm going to have more than just Witch from Mercury reference be stuck to Time, I'm going to let baby Twilight sneak out and bond with the Gundam. And have Twilight get his markings from the suit too. But I'm going to let the suit transform into a wolf so I can have wolfie without any potential animal deaths in the future in case I want more angst. So because Time is a deserter, Twilight had to move around a lot and staying in Ordon for the longest time was his norm until, he meets Midna. A mobile suit designer, (well I can make her like the daughter of a mobile suit company which I guess can consider her a princess in some way) Midna helps with the Wolf Gundam (because it's no longer the Fierce Deity) and when she has to leave, their location is pretty much compromised. Which eventually leads to Twilight and Time going to space and meeting the rest of the chain, aka Twilight's uncles and Wind.

BTW designs are not final!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Salome....the poly AU.........I literally have worms in the brain I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT ITTTT!! When you first posted about it I was like hmmm idk if this is really my cup of tea? I can't imagine Konig being able to share Engel with anyone else.

But then I read it and I??? I short-circuited and died and went to heaven. I'm telling you - literal WORMS in the brain.

I didn't even know this was something I was into till NOW. The idea of two cute girls being equally as obsessed with each other as they are with Konig??? And them all living together as one big happy (and slightly insane) family?? 😭😭😭 And DON'T even get me started on that ask you recently answered about him wanting to knock them both up at the same time 😭😭 my heart (and 🐱) can't handle it.

But listen, I really like the idea of bestie being the love interest from the shy!feral!AU. The idea of Konig (heavy on Konig) and Engel slowly pspspspsing her into a relationship with them is such delicious thought. I'm a SUCKER for slow burns, and Konig having to work EXTRA hard and be EXTRA patient to get her to accept him?? Dudeee. I'm imagining feral!Bestie would already be pretty comfortable with Engel (considering they're both women, are already friends, have similar interests, etc..) but Konig?? Nuh-uh, not yet. I imagine that she's relatively wary about men in general, but Konig's cockiness, energy, and dominating personality makes her even MORE skittish around him. Eventually she'll come around, with Engel's cooing and coaxing + Konig's awkward, yet endearing, courting gestures (plus she wants to see what he's packing in those pants but hey that's not important).

Eventually when she DOES enter a relationship with them, and subsequently, jump into bed with them, I think it's gonna have to happen with baby steps. By baby-steps (maybe not that babyish of a step hehe) I mean it'll probably be her and Engel on the bed, naked, doing all sorts of fun things like touching, kissing, grinding etc BUTTTTTTT the deal is that Konig has to sit in the corner and watch. Like sorry bud, Engels gotta make sure Bestie is acclimated and comfortable first before you can jump in!! You're gonna have to sit this out (for now) >:3 sorryyyyyy!

Granted, I'm not sure how he'd react to such a proposition, considering he's only allowed to be a spectator, but I think the sight of Engel and feral!Bestie kissing/touching/feeling each other up while making eye contact and moaning about how good the other one feels???? Yeah, no, he's gonna pass out and die. How did he simultaneously get both so cursed and so lucky? Of course they're partially doing all this just to tease him, but imagine them upping the stakes and telling him that if he so much as tries to touch/relieve himself they'll stop altogether??

Sorry I know I've already gone on a rant and should wrap it up soon but the thought of Bestie being seated in Engel's lap, legs wide open on display for Konig, being fingered and kissed by Engel? AND THEM BOTH MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH KONIG WHILE DOING IT????? AND HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH HIMSELF????

Nope, he's a goner. He's dead. His dick is gonna explode. Hell, I'M dead too.

Sorry for the rant but this AU has seriously bewitched me - mind, body, and soul!!

I have nothing to add, really, just wanted to set this thing free because it's so beautiful and pure 😭😭😭🩷

[sugar-omi]

as a black girlie i wanna ramble ab how cove would be w a black s/o

he don't know nothing bout no 2 step ‼️‼️ tried ONCE and literally fell over (don't worry baby i can't do it either)

we ardy know he loves to eat, but i think he really hankers down on some soul food. put bro in front of some collard greens, baked mac n cheese and chicken and he's SET. you seen that one tiktok of the guy on thanksgiving w his black gf and his face was all in the plate? that's cove

OMG OMG HELPS YOU DO YOUR HAIR AND DECIDE YOUR NEXT STYLE IF YOU'RE INDECISIVE LIKE ME

i could ramble more but idk if you'll relate or like... enjoy it so imma stop here ;-;

OMG YES PLEASE IVE BEEN THINKING ABT THIS TOO

I do relate on the hair front (we eat like basic trash americans over here I'm ngl 💀💀💀) but like put down anything in front of cove?? he's devouring it, he won't even ask what it is he just knows it smells good n tastes even better

IVE SEEN RHAT VIDEO YOURE TALKING ABT AGES AGO N I MEANT TO SHARE IT if I find it ill add the link

I SAW ANOTHER ONE TOO the guy had sauce all over his face n he was just eating w his hands (he had like a thing of ribs or smth w a bone so that made sense lmao)

but lkke he abandoned all civilty, man's was gonna eat n he was gonna do it EFFICIENTLY it was so sweet, he even thanked her mom like 😭😭😭

I couldn't help laughing it was too funny n so cute man's was actually in heaven

but ykw every video I've seen of someone eating soul food, they devour it omfg

i saw one woman cooking for her Korean in laws n the parents had a little bit of everything n were in awe watching her cook n they. threw. DOWN

I just know they went back home a couple pounds heavier bc that food did look good af

BUT I CONSTANTLY THINK ABT COVE DOING YOUR HAIR

now I don't have very course hair, my hair is 3B but reallyyyy thick. like my classmate even said I have more edges than people have hair, which is rlly funny

but before I cut my hair it was like down to my butt, and now that I've been able to take care of it its gotten thicker

so imagine making cove detangle and wash your hair n put in product n braid it for you.

like especially when my hair was long, I wished someone would just come do my hair bc it's such a strain on my arms

so imagine cove sitting in the bathroom or in the tub w you to help with your routine, and he's so gentle that depending on your hair type you gotta tell him to be a bit rougher bc he's not getting the job done

he's just so afraid of ruining your hair or smth pls hes very paranoid rn💀😭

better to start with him putting in your products and letting him comb out your hair once you're done w detangling n stuff like that

omg he does help take your braids out

I braided my hair into micro braids n please.... I was ready to cut at the root bc that was irritating to take out. I was combing my hair n almost snatching my head off my shoulders bc I missed a braid 🪦🪦🪦

his braids are so bad omfg.... there's definitely pieces of hair sticking out

eventually though I think he becomes so good at it and before you know it he's a braid master !!

also yeah there isn't a dancing bone in his body but ykw he's gonna learn at least one move!!!!

imma have to find it but there's this old dude that rlly buckled down on one move n that's so cove I think

yout family definitely keeps pulling him in to dance and he just cant keep up.... that's the white in him /j

[katsigian]

ＷＩＰ ＷＨＥＮＥＶＥＲ

Tagged by @trashkingnyx thank youuuu

I'm perpetually working on things because I pick up 100 million projects when I'm inspired and then lose said inspiration but then the stubbornness kicks in so then I gotta finish them or else I feel guilty. Hope that helps <3

１． ＣＯＭＰＬＥＸＩＯＮＳ

Who saw this coming, because I surely didn't. It's not like complexion mods are the only thing I know how to make well.

The frankly unsettling flattened skin texture, or diffuse, on the left are tattoos I'm making for my woof boy, Noel. There are many different pieces because there's a billion seams I have to account for to make a sleeve that covers from shoulder to fingers without gaps. And it destroys my brain. The handsome lad on the right is my baby Vesper and those are his custom tattoos I made that need to be fixed up a little bit. Because there's flaws only my eyes can see <3

２． ＰＲＯＰＳ

Ya boy is also venturing into propmaking. Less venturing and more throwing myself in the deep end because I physically can't learn anything normally. ANYWAY I want a trillion neon signs at my beck and call for picture taking so I've been scouring in game assets and yoinking them out for my own use. They're functioning, but there's some stuff I gotta touch up yet.

３． ＬＯＲＥ

Yes, yes, we've all heard about my lore. It's still an ongoing process and frankly kinda tiring. Here are some snippets:

"The Saint" - while the name conjures imagery of holy pureness, Valen is anything but. Though that is part of why he's called this; it's a play on words that reflect his true methods. Early on in his career, Valen gained his reputation for being effcient, aggressive, and having a high success rate. Some operators that worked beside him began sarcastically calling him the Saint after seeing his typically ruthless and effective methods of completing contracts. The name stuck, even as Valen didn't embody saintly tendencies by any stretch yet. Although, that was part of the joke - a saint would never be as violent as Valen is, so how hilarious would it be if that's what he's called? It could be argued he was a saint of sorts for his clients, coming in and washing away their problems. Beginning around 2074, the name had another meaning attached to it - Valen would often willingly accept a pay cut to take those contracts that clients couldn't afford. These were usually non-corporate aligned persons who did not have the dollars at hand for the services offered by Ares Systems. Valen, apparently a bleeding heart at times, would take the contracts anyway and complete them. "The Saint" stuck even further after this.

Vesper's Lore - Around 10 months after running from Dario, Vesper found Valen. He'd been searching for him specifically, but Valen's not easy to find; he eventually approached him outside of Valen's work facility and Valen, of course, was shocked. He'd never known about Callen's other children, even though he'd always felt *something*. Unknowingly connected to Vesper from their shared father/sire. Over the next 6 months, they slowly grew closer, getting to know each other. They were both a little too similar to their father though, Vesper's brash nature inherited from Callen meaning he often called out Valen's own similarities to their father. To Valen's extreme dismay. Even though they tend to grate on each other's nerves, they do learn from each other and lean on one another often. Valen can't live without him now, nor can Vesper without him. When Vesper was 23, Dario found him again. He'd stopped being careful and accidentally let himself be found. Terrified, he was forced to tell Valen about that part of his past. Valen, in typical fashion, took it upon himself to make sure Dario could never find Vesper again. To this day, Vesper still doesn't know what Valen did with the body, and he'll never tell him.

And that's that <3 I'm going to tag some pals BUT there's NO pressure to share if you don't want to. If you do want to share, it could be anything; art, writing, mods, etc.

@rindemption @noirapocalypto @spicyraeman @nuclearstorms @aartyom @uldwynsovs @halsin @nokstella @reaperkiller @arcandoria @cybersmallz @itzsassha @pathfinderlittleduck @strafethesesinners @thefrostyshepard @noonfaerie @neon-prison @elvenbeard @aldcaldos @holofishes @fleetwoodmoth @breezypunk @hertzdo

[howdoyousleep3]

Hi, mama k. Honestly. I just wanted to share this lil thought I couldn’t get out of my head with senator Steve and intern Bucky.

We’re Bucky is having a horrible day, and it’s just little things coming at him one right after the other. (Maybe he got a terrible grade on something, maybe he got coffee spilled on his favourite sweater, he missed his alarm, just little things)

He’s stressed out from these little things, and maybe he’s just feeling soft and sensitive today, moreso than usual.

Maybe when he’s meeting up with the senator in his office he’s being a B.R.A.T.

And obviously Steve has no idea what’s going on. He pulls Bucky close by the loops on his jeans, mutters in his ear, “stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat, do you hear me, Buck? I ain’t gonna ask you twice. It’s been a long day, and I don’t have patience.”

And Bucky can feel the tears stinging at his eyes because he doesn’t understand why the day is affecting him so so much.

Maybe Steve tries being sweet, saying something like, “you wanna get something to eat after this? I know you like that Italian restaurant down the street.” Maybe offering to “or we could just get coffee. That insufferably sweet coffee you manage.”

And Bucky just snaps at him with something like. “No,” or go as far to say “fuck no. Or *fuck you*” if he’s feeling really bold.

The senator is obviously shocked. He grips Bucky’s hair and looks down at him, simply because Bucky’s knees are crumpling. The senator is thinking of fucking the answers right out if Bucky. Slapping his pretty little ass until he’s whining and breaking down, telling the senator what’s going on and why he’s being the way.

“What’s goin’ on with my boy, Buck? This ain’t you. What’s goin’ on? Hm? You need-

And Bucky just breaks.

Tears come flooding down his cheeks as he struggles to catch a breath. He tries to keep it in, because this has never happened before and he doesn’t understand.

But Steve knows better. Daddy knows better. “Bucky, sugar, hey…” his voice is soft this time, softer than it usually is. Because Bucky normally isn’t this vulnerable. Or he’s never been like *this* when he was vulnerable. “Look at me, Buck. Up here. Eyes up here on Daddy, sugar. C’mon.”

Bucky eventually looks up at Daddy’s eyes. Hand covering his mouth while gasps and hiccups escape. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He sure as hell doesn’t want it to happen. He feels powerless and vulnerable with the senator enough. He doesn’t need him to see this mess that he’s never even seen himself in before.

“There’s those pretty blue eyes.” Steve would be so gentle (I hope) as he strokes through Bucky’s hair. Tugging on it, but only softly. Leaning down to kiss a few tears off Bucky’s cheekbone. “Whats going on with you, baby? Hm? Daddy ain’t mad at ya for snapping. Be he’s gotta know what’s happening. ‘Else he can’t help you.”

Bucky would explain that it’s just small things throughout his cries and hiccups. And Steve would try to gently explain its a panic attack. Because of the stress of the day, perhaps the stress of the weeks, taking on too much.

Daddy would sit down with Bucky on his lap, maybe between his thighs on the floor. He’s cup his cheeks and kiss the salty tears as they come.

Bucky might cry for a little while longer. And Daddy would make sure Bucky is taking deep breaths. He’d have Bucky’s hand in his own heart, while his larger hand is covering that. Reminding him that he is O.K. And he will continue to be okay.

I picture some soft non sexual submission later that turns into sex (possibly).

I’m soooo sorry. I just really wanted to share this with you.

I love all of your work. And I couldn’t get Steve pulling Bucky out if a panic attack out of my head.

I hope this was ok!

😭 Oh! It's perfect, it's perfect. 😭 I've written something like this, where Bucky was spittin' mad, but it led to spankings and then a complete breakdown on Bucky's part. But when the senator is soft like this? My heart. I imagine there would definitely be that moment where Steve is like "Okay, shit he's serious," because Bucky can be bratty at times for sure, but he's never hateful. And Steve would likely push too hard because he loves pushing, but he's a good Daddy and knows when he needs to make those executive decisions.

This was lovely and angsty and perfect, thank you so much for sharing! 💕

[dogboylovr]

Hi!!! I've noticed no one has asked you yest sooo... I'm here ! I was wondering if you could like write something David x m!reader, 2010s David actually, and Idc if it's smut or fluff, it's up to you, I'm okay with whatever you can come up with!

thank you so much for the ask!!

a/n: david ellefson (junior) in megadeth's 2010s era x m!reader.

adding in that the house they're doing this in is a shared band house, and mustaine and his wife are home.

contents: fluff, slight playful humiliation, sensual touching (both receiving), risk of getting caught, handjob(?)

word count: approx. 500

nsfw below v

david was sitting on the bed, waiting for me to come in from the bathroom. a few minutes later, i walked in the room and sat on the bed with him, moving closer and snuggling into him.

"what took you so long in the bathroom?" david asked me, looking at me for a moment before wrapping his arms around me.

"i was washing my face then i went piss and washed my hands, obviously." i answered, shifting myself into him more.

david started rubbing my hips, i let out a soft groan, the hip rubbing felt amazing. i softly grabbed his hand and brought it down to my inner thigh. he began rubbing my thigh, as i instructed him to, he would also palm me too, ever so often. i moaned, a bit louder than i was anticipating, he clasped his hand on my mouth.

"shhh... you've gotta stay quiet baby. remember, we're not alone in this house." he reminded me, i nodded in response to him.

i groaned breathily, feeling the blood running through my veins as i felt myself getting hard. david would continue to palm me before sliding his hand up my stomach and into my pants, i whined quietly, looking up at him.

"you like when i touch you, huh baby? you really like that don't you?" david teased me, this made me blush in embarrassment.

"mhm... that's it.." he would whisper to me, beginning to jerk me off.

i groaned loudly, david couldn't be bothered to shush me anymore. so he just let me moan, whine and groan. he continued to jerk me off in my pants while rubbing my thigh with his free hand.

as i was getting closer to my peak, i heard footsteps approaching the door, david and i froze, waiting for them to stop.

"shh. we don't wanna get caught, do we baby?" david whispered to me, i shook my head and stayed as quiet as i could while he continued to jerk me off.

moments later, i felt myself reach my peak, i shook but didn't cum since david stopped as soon as i started shaking.

"please.." i whined to him, and he continued until i came.

david kissed my cheek and slid my came-in pants off.

"you did so good for me, so so good.." he reminded me, continuing to pepper my face and neck with soft kisses.

"thank y-" i cut myself off as i watched the doorknob twist, covering myself up.

dave mustaine walked in, looking at david like he had a question, but he just looked at me, then back at david before leaving.

"sorry about that baby." david apologized to me.

"it's fine, he didn't give us shit." i joked.

the two of us eventually went to sleep together, that was a good night, other than almost being caught.

[pkmnomegaverse]

indulge my curiosity bc i just remembered leena exists… if the family dynamic is still the same as uhhhhhhhhhh 4?? years ago??? and rue gets along great with marshal, is she ever aware that she shares a different parent than her siblings? are leena and colvin ever told rue is their half sibling or is it a non issue that they never learn about?

also, if you have any ideas at this point (if you need another 4yrs to marinade i understand) how do the three get along? six years isn't a significant difference but in the pkmn world when you leave to go travel at ten at the earliest (solo at least) that would make leena and colvin 4/3 when (potentially!) rue isn't around as much, so i wonder how that affects their dynamic. maybe she comes home with cool stories for them and is another influence on the two becoming competitive trainers aside from their parents.

idek if rue's friend group has been established either?? you don't ahve to elaborate on that one i'm just pondering here. if she's 15/16 when leena is 10, do you think they would travel together while leena is just starting out? or, would leena and colvin have such a relationship where they start their journey together when colvin is of age? (thinking if they're close that it would be sweet for leena to hang around an extra year, still be a trainer but just close to home, has gotten the hang of managing pkmn by the time it's time for colvin to get his license.)

this got long hhhhh pls don't feel obligated to answer it all!!

Poor Leena, the kid I've thought about the least in that trio. I def need to change up some things with this family as a whole, since I've retconned stuff with Colvin to spare him from drama. But that also means I need to figure out what they're all doing. The overall family dynamic is still roughly going to be the same, but will tweak some things at some point.

Anyway! To answer your questions as best I can. Yes Rue is aware Marshal is her step-dad and Leena/Colvin are her half siblings, mostly since she looks nothing like any of them. I always figured it was kind of a given there was no real reason to lie to her about that, since would be obvious that she only takes after Grimsley looks wise once she’s older. Plus she’s kinda sorta just barely old enough to remember a time pre-Marshal (Leena is basically a pretty quick accident baby once Marshal and Grimsley get re-involved since Grimsley making poor life choices/having bad luck is the running theme. And while Marshal is pulling the "I'll take responsibility let's get married card" right away, Grimsley isn't as gung-ho about jumping straight to that). So while they're figuring that out, Rue is calling her potential future step-dad "Mr. Marshal" and such, eventually moving to "Dad" once Grimsley and Marshal get married. So since Rue knows he's not her bio dad, Leena and Colvin know too, although I don’t think a big deal is made about it. Overall is a non-issue.

Again, I'm pretty vague on the siblings dynamic in gen but I've always pictured that they all get along pretty well. A family of eccentrics. Rue is the genki goth-leaning girl, Leena is the equally genki martial arts girl, and Colvin is kind of soft-spoken and shy (but still goth), letting his sisters have the limelight while he kind of hides behind them. But there's an eccentric performer in him lurking. Just needs to be awakened. I do think Leena waits a year so she and Colvin can travel together. Gotta look out for her little bro and all.

Rue I've apparently completely retconned in my own head over time without realizing it because I just checked and past me said her and Brenin (Hugh/Nate's foster son) travel together and are love interests. But in my heart, it's been Sorrel (Cress' son with Ghetsis) for a while who fills this role. So maybe I'll flip it back since perhaps past me had a good reason it was Brenin over Sorrel, but here's the vibe I got for Sorrel/Rue. Since Sorrel is raised by Anthea and Concordia for the early years of his life, he still visits Unova a lot since there's kind of a shared custody situation going on there. Seemed cruel to let them be his moms until he's like 3-5 and then just snatch him away forever. So he does end up living at the Hilbert/N Poke Sanctuary "x" months out of the year with his Foster Moms. Which is why he ends up deciding to start his Pokemon in Unova over Kalos, which is where he meets Rue and the two become friends. Them traveling together is kind of a carryover plot of when Colvin had abduction drama since both are the oldest sibling with a missing little brother. But even with that dropped plotline for Colvin, I still like the idea of those two traveling together. They do still have the shared connection of a mom who makes questionable choices in terms of romantic partners. Also a bio villain dad who isn't around since while Rue's bio dad is always a mystery in universe, in my heart, he's a mob boss.

Honestly Brenin is likely there too. Since I know I had Brenin and Sorrel marked as being friends. So in gen, the potential people Rue is connected to and traveling with are Sorrel and Brenin.

And your right about Rue calling home/sharing stories about her own travels, which likely inspires her siblings to be competitive trainers. Past just their parents influencing them all.

So TLDR the siblings get along pretty well but I def need to workshop this family more, since overall, they're kind of underdeveloped.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

speaking of Pokemon, I've used the dlc to upgrade my third team, which includes my Dabi Mimikyu. And at first he was getting KILLED out there I felt so bad so I was like 'oh it's okay we'll just have a few of your big brothers and sisters on the team and you can get the shared exp for now!!' so I've since leveled him to mid-80s being more or less on the bench most of the time

But the last couple bosses in the dlc had some hands and were kicking my mains asses and MULTIPLE TIMES Dabi was the last pokemon I had and I would rescind to fate like 'baby I'm so sorry I gotta put you out here but it's okay we'll get 'em next time"

AND THEN HE WOULD CLUTCH THEM.

EVERY. TIME.

It eventually became a thing where if I was struggling I'd send out my skittering little demonic fairy in a raggedy sheet like SIC 'EM

and he would, in fact, sic 'em

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

I've been thinking about this idea that came to me after Florence and the machine released Mermaids and then I watched The Lighthouse. I wanted to write a dark Mermaids story and my protagonist was a solitary man, dealing with grieve, sounds familiar?

Even if I didn't planned as a fic but an original story, Joel Miller inspired it (maybe also the fact that I've been playing tlou part 2 and there's a ton of scenes dealing around the coast) and I think the sea is a great setting to explore pain. I got stuck, you can figure that out just knowing I wanted to be done for merMay and well... it's August. So in order to bust my ass to write, I wanted to share some snippets with you. I want to publish it here and Ao3 sometime this week. If by next Monday I haven't, you can come scream at me (thank you).

Themes and what to expect from it: this is weird story, dark and eery sea vibes, grieving lots of pain, tension, smut (duh), and very important, Joel Miller continues to be little spoon on this.

The siren will be described( as fins and tail and color and her not human features), but the "girl" version of her will not, she will be nameless and addressed as "she, girl, siren etc" but it can be read as as a f!reader.

"They say the sea has some power over the souls. It understands something that lies underneath flesh and bones and it sings a song that appeal to those who are wounded.

The sea is a welcoming mistress for lost souls. At land, all he did was bury himself in pills and alcohol. He numbed his head so his thoughts would stop being her fast breathing, her cries, his shirt wet, warm and sticky over his chest.

(....)

I know, baby, I know.

I gotta get you up, babygirl

He remembers getting her corpse up of the ground, and all he was, was left in the puddle of her daughter’s blood on the grass."

(....)

"They were so far away; the radar never showed any passing ship. The sky was so bright, Joel saw the Milky way for the first time. That white spur of cosmos full of stars  brighter than any artificial light he had never seen before. The sea was so calm the light draw silver lines over the soft waves, the soft push of them crushed against the boat, when he saw it. A shadow, barely a head above water. If it weren’t for those silver lines, a glitch on the reflection of the sky above, he wouldn’t have seen it."

(....)

"She cradled his head on her lap, her sharp nails combing his greying hairs, again and again. And she sings.

Her voice is soft, and deep. She hums sometimes, or just vocalises, others she speaks in a language he does not understand. Long syllables, soft words. Even if she does use unknown words or just her voice, Joel understand. She sings about longing, death, lost and love. Sometimes he cries and she shushes him like a baby. With her voice and her hands, she caresses his wounds and his heart.

In the night, they lay, and she tangles herself to him. She's warm and soft and smells like salt and sand. It's like she keeps the warmth of the beach on her. Her heartbeat is steady. If she notices that sometimes he touches the skin on her leg, from her ankle to her thigh, the one leg she tosses over his hip, she does not say.

Sometimes she turns and grabs his arm, cuddling herself with him, as if he was a blanket over her. She keeps his hand between her breasts, her slow and steady breath should calm him. But she pushes against him, her back on his belly, her hips between his hips.

If she notices that his painfully hard and cannot sleep, she doesn't say.

But when he does eventually fall asleep, the nightmares start.

"do not cry, Joel" she kisses the tears running down his cheeks. And she sings, and he cries more. Until he's empty and exhausted, until he can fill the sea and drown.

The siren sings every night and he begins to forget why he's crying or that he should try to get back to the land"

Let me know if you wish to read it once I upload it 🥺

[phoomwhoosh]

Whomst is rayford? May I ask?

(share more of your oc stuff if you want)

Yessss, thank you so much for asking!

So, Rayford is an OC I've had kicking around since 2018 although technically it's been longer, he was just based roughly off of another character of mine who wasn't named Rayford.

(Cut because I know this is gonna get long lol)

His name is actually a combo of me knowing someone named Ray and misreading "Sanford" as "Stanford" and going, "Well, I don't want to name him Stanford. But Rayford could be a good combo..." and then his surname just popped into my mind one day and I went, "Yeah, okay, there we go. He is named."

I came up with him around the same time I was watching Critical Role (The Mighty Nein campaign) so, naturally, I gave him a dice set because I thought I was gonna play him in a D&D campaign then I decided not to after I saw how he rolled. His dice are super cursed. What I mean by this is, every time I use them for him, they roll really badly. Even after I made him in Baldur's Gate 3, he still rolls like garbage lmao. My boy can't catch a break. (For reference, I use DnD dice to roll for combat stuff in my stories 'cause it makes keeping track of everyone easier.)

His appearance/age has changed over time but four things have remained consistent: he's inherently kind, he's not very perceptive, he's asexual, and he has pink hair. Why did I choose pink? I honestly can't tell you. But it's naturally pink, which is important for me to point out.

The Rayford that I commissioned Cookie for is 16 and a half-elf. No one knows what his other half is, just that his dad vanished one day and reappeared with a baby and they were all like, "Hold on, dude, where did that come from and why does it have pink hair???" His dad never told them who his wife was for Reasons. To Rayford, she was a beautiful pink-haired lady with pretty blue eyes. Did her eyes sometimes glow weird? Sure, but he was a child and gave it no thought because that was his mom and also magic exists. -_o_-

The first five years of his life were excellent, fantastic, his parents weren't murdered. Then they were murdered and the next five years of his life were hell but he held onto his kind nature despite that. Then some stuff happened and he got adopted by someone who genuinely cared for him and made sure he got whatever he wanted. He's not spoiled because he doesn't really ask for anything. He's content with what some might call "ugly grandpa sweaters" (they remind him of his dad) and cutting-up a pair of jeans for shorts (even though his adoptive mom would 100% just buy him a pair of shorts if he would ask). He's just happy about living in a loving home again. That was all he really wanted.

However, he attracts trouble like nobody's business. Actually, that's been another thing that's stayed consistent for this OC. He could bump into a girl and just be helping her pick up her books and her boyfriend sees him doing that and is like, "He's trying to steal my girl!" Rayford is asexual and has no interest in stealing your girl but, well, stupid's gotta stupid. (Alternatively, the OG Rayford walked into a cave once and almost got killed by a wight. He rolled so poorly that day. Failed that perception check almost into unconsciousness.)

Rayford does actually tie-in with Alis and Tali. They all go to the same magic school (which is literally nothing like HP, don't even get me started on how different my world is. I've been cultivating this world for well over a decade).

Anyway, Rayford just transferred to that school from another one and, if he was honest, he wanted to go to this one anyway. Eventually, he meets Tali and Alis and they become friends because Alis is like, "you don't have any friends yet? guess what, meet your new friends ^_^" and Tali rolls with it lol.

Tali is actually going by a nickname because her dad thought it'd be neat to name her "Taliesin." She likes her name and all but going by Tali makes her full name sound like "talented" if it's said fast enough and that's brought her endless amusement.

Alis is pronounced like "Alice" but spelled that way because I just like the spelling for some reason. I seem to have developed an affinity about half-elf/elf names ending with "-is" and I don't know why. It all started with Elder Scrolls: Oblivion...not that it's not every half-elf/elf I make just, you know, I've named more than one like that XD

My "face claim" for Rayford was basically me pointing to one of Cookie's drawings of Daniel and going, "I'm gonna be honest, I love the way you draw Daniel and, obviously, Rayford isn't gonna look exactly like that but you know." So, yeah, his face claim is basically Ralph Macchio lmao. I'm not sorry.

When Cookie showed me the WIP, I had to take a moment because I was like, "That's Rayford omg." Same with Leo when they did Alis and Tali for me! I was all starry-eyed and like, "This is them." I actually combined both pieces into one so I could have all three of them as a desktop background because, genuinely, I love both so much! I do plan on commissioning the rest of the gang one day since there ARE six of them.

In conclusion, here are his cursed dice: