#�� planet god damn ❜ — OOC

[bcneheaded]

yall i am not quite here mentally today so I might not being around dm wise (apologies), but just wanted to ... mutter something about how I'd briefly done some calculations and like... (lol... "calculations", conversions and estimating) and...... artemis would be..... like.. Maybe?? almost like 300lbs. maybe more? man is heavy!!!

[impactedfates]

Yapper Boyfriend - Various HSR Boys x GN!Reader

★ Summary: Your boyfriend loves to talk and you love to listen, though sometimes it puts a stop to what you're doing or you can tell it's getting him worked up. So what better why to make sure he's happy then stopping him with a kiss? (TLDR: Shutting your boyfriend up w/ a kiss)

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Argenti , Boothill, Mr Reca, Dr Ratio, Dan Heng + Sunday

★ Genre/Trope: Established Relationship + Romantic + Fluff

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Mr Reca may be OOC (Getting used to his character still) // Sunday may be OOC // Slightly Proof Read // Writing kiss scenes are awkward...

Your beautiful boyfriend Argenti, he was the greenest flag you've ever met. You never minded his yapping and praises for Idrila, that's just how he was. And honestly, seeing him hold a long dead god with such high regard after all this time was admirable.

Though at times, it can interrupt your dates. And that's what was happening now. You were both visiting a planet and stumbled upon a shrine for the very goddess he worships. Immediately, he lets go of your hand and kneels in front of it, he sings his praises to it.

You could only sigh and smile softly as he did so. Though that wasn't the end of the praises you heard, even after walking away. The conversation you were having with your boyfriend slowly turned into him praising Idrila again. You knew why, it was rare to find any followers of Beauty these days let alone find a shrine dedicated to her.

Though, you'd much prefer singing praises to him and how great he was. You didn't mind too much listening. You knew he was passionate about his goddess and who were you to stop him. You couldn't help but admire him. You also couldn't mind just...

"It's just fantastic isn't it my love? Seeing a shrine so well kept for goddess Idrila. It's just-"

You quickly leaned up, kissing him softly on the lips. He was quick to reciprocate, leaning into your touch before you two pulled away.

"I...aha, sorry. Was I going on again my dear?"

"Don't worry, continue. You just looked so passionate about this, I couldn't help myself"

"Those forking, son of a nice ladies!!"

Your lover huffed. Boothill crossed his arms as he grumbled, letting you mess with his hair as he continued to complain. It was understandable, the IPC was incredibly annoying this time around. He wanted to get a drink at the nearby bar but some of the IPC subordinates were there and quickly tried to pick a fight with him.

Causing all of them to be kicked out. He grumbled more as he kept muttering things under his breath. A 'mother forking' here, a few 'shirt bags' there and of course 'fudge heads'

Your hands worked to braid his hair slowly, hoping it would calm him down like the previous times but it seems as though you'd have to use a different tactic.

You leaned his head towards you before quickly planting a kiss on his lips, effectively stopping his next words from coming out. He sat there in surprise, even after you pulled away, he just looked at you before quickly turning away with a chuckle.

"Well I'll be damned...got me there sweetheart"

"Reca-"

"And the camera movement! Why focus on the trees when the drama is happening with the characters!?"

"Rec-"

"Oh and don't get me STARTED on the lighting, like really? That kind of lighting for that kind of scene?"

"...Re-"

"OH AND DID I MENTION-"

You sighed, your attempts at even just soothing your partner's emotions coming to a fail. How could you do anything if he's going to criticize the movie you had just watched. Or was this just spite because you complimented one of the characters? You could only listen as Mr Reca continued his onslaught on the film's cinematography.

God you knew yourself the film was bad. This was meant to be a fun date night as you two cringed at the movies but your boyfriend was getting rather into it. Eventually after 5 minutes of this thorough review, you reach over, putting your hands gently on either side of his face, cupping his cheek. You quickly lean in to kiss him before he could utter another word.

When you pulled away he looked at you stunned for a second before grinning like an idiot. That god damn smile you fell in love with.

"Perfect! Brilliant! You see, THAT is what the lead should've done during that confession scene!"

You couldn't help but let out a laugh as he took your hands into his, as he praised your action, comparing it to the film. You will say though, your plan of stopping his review on the film was a success, even if now he was ranting about how great the "scene" was when you kissed him.

Aeons you only asked one question, you figured your boyfriend would know and now you're stuck listening to Dr Ratio yap about something, that you can't even tell has any correlation to your original question.

It's not that you minded, you loved learning new facts but the problem was...checking the time, if he didn't notice soon Dr Ratio would be late to his next lesson...and while that could be interesting and funny to see.

The oh so strict Dr Ratio late to his lesson. You didn't want that for him. But you didn't know how to stop him, when he gets into a lecture he really gets into it. So how could you...

Ah! You got it.

You stood up and walked towards him, tugging on his shirt so he'd turn his head towards you, you leaned up and kissed him. It was quick and simple before you pulled away.

"I-...what was that for?"

Oho, a blushing and flustered Dr Ratio is so much better then a late Dr Ratio.

"You have a class to attend remember?"

"...[Name], I don't go to school anymore"

"...Darling...you're a teacher"

When those words left your mouth you could see him mentally face palm as he quickly grabbed his items. He muttered out a thank you as he kissed your cheek, checking his phone to see how much more time he had left before rushing to his class.

Now Dan Heng wasn't really a yapper. He often listened to you yapping instead. And on the occasion he would shut you up with a kiss. It always made you flustered, and it wasn't even to really shut you up to be quiet. He just couldn't help himself, you looked so passionate in your topic he couldn't help but lean in to give you some affection before gesturing you to continue.

For once, you wanted to do it to him. To kiss him when he was rambling about something, make him flustered and just motion him to continue. But he wasn't one to easily ramble about something.

You eventually came up with an idea though, it wasn't exactly the best and it didn't exactly involve him rambling but...y'know if it works it works.

You asked him to read out the some of the texts to the databank, like a story book. He blinked at you confused but agreed. He read one, two and another until you finally put your plan into motion, you leaned up to kiss him. He was stunned for a moment as you pulled away.

"...was that your plan all along? To shut me up with a kiss?"

"...maybe"

He let out a small chuckle. Shaking his head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable, to ask me to read out the data banks just so you could shut me up with a kiss"

You stayed silent for a bit with a blush, realising how silly the plan sounded now.

"...please continue with the databank talk..."

“I’m sorry”

Those words were the first thing uttered out of his mouth when you saw him again. When you opened the door and saw your boyfriend again.

“I’m…so…so sorry”

He repeats, holding your hand as he brings it up to his face. He looks at you, you can tell he’s holding back tears. Aeons you haven’t seen him since…well, the incident with the Charmony festive. You haven’t seen him since he was imprisoned, how he managed to get out?

You didn’t care, your boyfriend was back but…he didn’t look well.

“I-I didn’t…I thought…”

He struggled to get the words out, holding your hand as if you were a delicate doll and one wrong move would break you apart and he’d be alone again.

“…I just wanted the best for everyone…I-I promise…I…I didn’t think…about…all the details…I-I thought what I was doing was right but it wasn’t…aeons…I’ve hurt so many people haven’t I…”

You listened, hearing his apologies just spill out as tears threatened to follow suit. He couldn’t even look you in the eye anymore, he felt too ashamed too. How could he after all that he’s done?

Yet another apology was about to leave his lips until he felt soft ones fall on top of his. He froze, eyes widening in surprise as you kissed him.

How…

How could you…still give him affection? When he finally looked at you, you looked at him so gently, so kindly.

How

How did he deserve that? No he doesn’t deserve that, he doesn’t deserve the way you gently lead him into your house, sit him down and hug him…you’re…happy he’s okay?

He watched you carefully as you went to brew a cup of tea for the both of you…Aeons, he’s so lucky to have you.

Sorry for not uploading in while. Schools hectic and I’m a year away before I have to plan on colleges.

Anyways, I hope you all liked this one ^^

I tried to make sure the “kisses” were done at an appropriate time/scenario if that makes sense

I have another draft in the works so hopefully I’ll get it done eventually

[if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi]

Hi pooo, NSFW/SMUT Maliksi x Reader inspired by the song I See Red TwT

((Anon, same ba tayo ng pinapakinggan na I See Red? xDD di ba parang murder song yun? char. Direct to the point ang request natin haaa, I like it! xD))

Disclaimer: I do not own Maliksi. Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto. All involved characters are adults.

Genre: Smut

TW: NSFW, Explicit, mentions of a gun, sprinkle of violence, blood, dirty talk, masturbation, oral, konting ka toxican, p*rn without plot, sobrang konti if meron man, bad writing sorry 2017 pa last time na gumawa ako ng smut. Umm.. Read at your own risk, I guess? I don't want to traumatize peeps hehe~ Minors, please don't interact. 18+++ ONLY

NON- #PhilMytCrea related AU. Reader (Y/n) has a marriage of convenience with Maliksi. OOC coz he's not a tamawo in this fic guys, just a normal guy with no sad backstory. Don't come for me, this is how 'I See Red' plays along my mind.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

You tossed your bag into the floor the moment you saw a pair of red stilettos which are not yours, laying on the frontdoor.

You knew Maliksi was seeing other people behind your back and it's fine, totally. You two were not wed out of love. Hell, you two only met each other a week before that damned wedding. It was a wedding made for the official partnership of your parents' companies, that's all.

What irks you the most is that Maliksi had the nerve to bring another woman under the roof of your house, knowing that you'll be home today after a week of insufferable business trips- you were exhausted and your 'husband' was banging some other chick on your bed.

You have always been labeled as 'intimidating' and 'bossy' by people around your- too many names and terms however it just leads to one point: you don't tolerate any disrespect and any bullshit from anyone.

"Get out or get shot." You coldly said as you entered your shared bedroom with Maliksi. The man is currently laying on his back on just his boxers while the girl he's with is on top of him, fully naked and giving him a good show. You went straight to your dresser and started rummaging for the hand gun your father gifted you before.

Upon realizing that you are not bluffing, the girl quickly got off on top of Maliksi, grabbing her clothes and making a run for it.

"Goddamn it! You are no fun!" Maliksi muttered underneath his breath but before he knows it, you were the one straddling him, landing a hard slap on his pretty face using the back of your hand that's now holding your glock.

You watched as single trail of blood slowly trickle down his nose.

"Fuckin' bastard! I only made you promise one thing after that hell of a wedding. You are not making a mess on my house, and especially not on my bed! Is that too much to ask for, you man-whore?!"

Maliksi's eyes widen at your sudden outburst. Who would've known that his wife is hiding some feisty personality underneath that stern and work addicted facade Your dad wasn't lying when he told him that you are a handful and that attitude will be a pain in the ass.

He lets out a deep chuckle as he wipes the blood off of his nose. "Look at you. All this time I thought I was married to a cold, emotionless robot. You should talk to me like this more often. God, it makes me hard." His voice resonated throughout the room as he took the gun out of your hands and placed it at the bedside table.

Sure enough, you can feel his growing bulge under those boxers. You two never had that kind of relationship despite being legally married. It's always just you sharing a bed at night like a pair of college roommates- maybe even less than that coz college roommates can sometimes cuddle. But you two- sleep like a pair of logs, away from each other in that king size bed as if you'll burn if your toes even touch accidentally.

You were about to get off of him but Maliksi wraps his arms around your hips, holding you in place. "You're not going anywhere." He smirks, licking the blood that got on his lips.

In a single breath, Maliksi was able to flip you over- switching your positions so that you're the one under him. "In case you can't read the room, I'm currently feeling hot n' bothered because of you. Kinda glad you arrived since the other girl can't get me hard."

"Then go jerk off somewhere, you idiot!" You tried pushing him off but he caught your hands and pinned it at the top of your head.

"Damn. Y'look so hot swearin' at me like that." He softly chuckled before undoing the necktie you are currently wearing and using it to restrain both of your hands. "Maliksi! W- what are you doing?!"

"We've been married for like two months now, Y/n. Can't a man see his own wife?" He said as he started undoing the buttons of your top, whistling at the sight of the red fabric of your lingerie peeking through.

"Didn't know you wear such things coming home to me, wifey." His voice sounded so seductively sweet that you have to do a double take if this is really the annoying guy you were unfortunately married to. Your face was red hot in embarrassment that you just wanted the ground to swallow you.

He smirks as he pulls out his hard cock, tip glistening with precum. He can't help but grin as he watch your eyes widen at the sight of him, not able to say a word.

"Didn't know my wife is this adorable. I like seeing you angry and shy. Tell me, will you let me see other expressions tonight, pretty?" He said not louder than a whisper as he slowly wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, giving it a light squeeze to feel just how hard he is from watching his wife stare from under him.

"Like what you're seeing, Y/N?" He teasingly asked as he started to stroking himself while you watch.

You felt your own breath get stuck on your throat as he asks you because you are indeed enjoying the little show he's putting up. For the first time, Maliksi is not a random guy you are married to. As much as you won't admit it, he's always been attractive, and hot. The air feels electric as room filled with the sounds of his panting and ragged breaths. You wouldn't tell him, but hearing him call you 'wifey' does things to you.

He reached up his free hand, tracing his thumb along your lower lips. "Open up for me, pretty girl." And for the first time in your life, you were obedient, opening up those pretty lips of yours and letting him use your mouth. You looked up at him, locking those pretty eyes into his as you take him deeply, feeling his tip brush into the back of your throat.

"I've got such a good wife here all this time. Y' should've let me know sooner." He said, grabbing handfuls of your hair to push himself deeper, making your eyes water.

"..fuck. you're such a dirty slut sucking me so good like that." he cursed, throwing his head back. You let out a moan, sending tremors and vibrations around his cock which made him buck his hips.

It didn't took long before he's got you completely naked on top of the sheets, his head buried between your thighs while his tongue works wonders on your sensitive clit. You were a moaning and trembling mess under his mercy which made him softly giggle on how his supposedly 'stuck up' wife turned out to be like this from his touch.

"Maliksi...please~ 'm so close."

He quickly pulled away, making you whimper in frustration from being denied of that sweet release.

"The only thing you're cumming on tonight is my cock, wifey."

He lined his twitching length along your dripping cunt, pushing in slowly, letting you adjust and get used to him before bottoming up and just stuffing you full of him.

He's been dreaming of this day when you two got married. Who would even be opposed of marrying you with that pretty face and killer body. He doesn't care if you two didn't marry for love. That body kept him awake at night, and he's definitely going all out now that he's got the chance to fuck you.

His pace is erratic, pulling out completely before slamming himself back completely, making your toes curl and your vision fill with stars as he fucks you senseless that all you can manage are moans and incoherent babbles.

He groans when he felt your cunt tightening around his cock, making him fuck you a tad bit harder. "You're so close now huh? My wifey seems to be enjoying my cock way too much." He chuckles before reaching into your clit, slowly circling his finger making you tremble in pleasure. "Maliksi....pleasee.."

"I know, pretty. I know."

You can feel your eyes rolling back and your body arching as you reach that sweet sweet release, with just a few more thrusts Maliksi follows, shooting ropes of thick hot cum inside you, telling you how pretty you are like that.

You two may not have started on good terms, but you both know this night is definitely a start of something.

[darkuselesssomebody]

𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝟛 - dark!din djarin x fem!reader

complete masterlist | kinktober 2023 masterlist

kink || sex pollen

taglist || @silversprings-mp3

fandom || star wars (the mandalorian)

a/n || this is my first real dark fic, it is genuinely quite fucked, please don't judge me

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider

➵ din is quite ooc in this, set prior to the events of the show.

➵ comment/message if you'd like to be added to the taglist

warnings || smut/dark (dddne)

➵ kidnapping

➵ use of sedatives/aphrodisiacs

➵ mild choking

➵ unprotected sex

➵ slapping/mild violence

➵ some overstimulation

➵ degradation

credits had been low that month.

din was a damn good bounty hunter - every member of the guild knew it, but the universe had been unusually peaceful these past few weeks. he'd spent most of his earnings on fixing up the razor crest, leaving him with little left. he was fiending for a bounty.

so when some backwater guy in a backwater planet told him of a thief who'd stolen a host of items from him, din had agreed in the blink of an eye. the pay was good, the target was simple enough - exactly what he needed to get back on track.

"careful." the client warned before he gave din the tracking fob, "she's feisty and slippery. doesn't put up any meaningful fight, but a pain in the ass to keep secured."

so, when din passed a shady market on his way back to the razor crest, he found a guy selling sedatives - better, for dirt cheap. knowing most sedatives go for at least twice the price, he figures it must just be a bit mild, but decent for this situation. din doesn't miss the man's leer as he walks away.

"have fun..." he says in a knowing, slimy tone, and din's confused, but doesn't question it. his mind's on the bounty.

she wasn't difficult to track, nor to find alone. she's living in some dingy abandoned hut in the edges of a black market, likely trying not to draw attention to herself. there's not even a lock on her door, and din walks in while she's sleeping. she's on her stomach, the faintest hint of a snore emitting from her half-blocked nose, and din takes out the pre-made injection with the sedative. he flips her over for better access, covering her face with his broad, gloved hand, as he pushes the needle into her skin, injecting her bloodstream with the sedative.

at the sharp pain, her eyes snap open, and she whimpers, but it's all muffled by his hand. she tries to claw at his hand, and din can commend her for at least trying to fight back. but, it's fruitless, as her eyes start fluttering, and she goes limp, passing out. he picks her up, lugging her along under the cover of darkness to his ship.

a job well done, he thinks, as he sits her limp body in the passenger seat in the cockpit, before sitting on his own. he powers on the ship, taking flight, before turning on the autopilot. knowing she's well-strapped, he's ready to go ahead and take a nap, when he starts hearing small whimpers coming from his side. he turns around curiously, to see her - though still asleep - fidgeting and moving her legs.

his eyes widen behind his visor. is she fucking grinding on the seat? he immediately sits up, pants growing uncomfortably tight at the little show of arousal. he gets up, kneeling in front of her chair, as he waves his gloved hand over her face, to see if she's awake. her mewls are sweeter up close. fuck, he's hard.

she's still in her sleepwear. the planet he picked her up off is hot - thank gods - and her legs are only clad in sleep shorts. his gloved fingers force her thighs apart slightly, morals blown to the wind in the pursuit of soothing his cock, and the leather fabric finally reaches her wet - correction: dripping - cunt, as her mouth lets out the sweetest little moan.

it morphs into a scream as she awakens, though, trying to close her thighs instinctively. his grip is harsh, squeezing the life out of her thighs, as he forces her legs open even wider - muscles stretched almost uncomfortably. her lip quivers in worry at the intimidating mandalorian in front of her.

"don't resist, and I won't hurt you." his modulated voice is cold, and rough, and she doesn't dare disobey. her eyes travel down to the blaster at his side, before running back to him. whatever he injected her with was still coursing through her veins, making her brain foggy and her cunt pulse. she can't help the moan she lets out as her fingers brush against her clit again, her entire body jolting violently. it contradicts with the tears in her eyes: stemming from her fear of the man in front of her and the fact she'd have to have sex with the strange, terrifying bounty hunter.

din pauses for a moment, to turn back to the - now empty - bottle of the sedative he'd bought earlier. it had coagulated from the oxygen it was exposed to, and had turned a deep, cherry red. an aphrodisiac, he realizes, now understanding why the sedative had been so cheap. it had been cut with an aphrodisiac, likely supposed to work as a date rape drug. he sighs, placing the bottle back. might as well make the most of it.

he stalks back towards her, and she's looking up at him with fearful doe eyes, upset at her predicament, and at her inability to disguise how badly she needed to be taken care of by her captor. she only squeaks when he harshly forces her calves up to bend her body in half. her mouth parts in soft, breathy whimpers, and it makes his cock pulse.

he forces a hand to her throat - if only to keep her still - but her eyes widen horror, making his lips curl into a smirk. he squeezes once, just for the fun of it, before reaching down with his free hand to force his pants off. his cock stands, hard and scary, and the sight of it makes her body twitch in anticipation and excitement, and a ragged breath leave her lips, eyes wide in anticipation and fear.

he forces her ankles over his shoulders, leaning down against the chair to really cage her in and force her body in half. he pulls her shorts up to her knees, not bothering to pull them off completely, as he already has access to what he wants.

"you don't have to do this..." she whimpers, though her cunt pulses for him, her blood on fire - from both his heat and the drug. he stays dead silent, before roughly stuffing two covered fingers into her, making her squeak out in pain and pleasure. he forces them in deep, wiggles around for just a second, making her eyes water, before pulling them out, and smearing the liquid over her cheek.

"but you want it so bad." it's worse because his tone doesn't sound mocking, but more observational, as if it wasn't him violating her, but rather, her own body. before she can protest further, he pushes his cock into her, and she's more than wet enough to just slide right in.

she can't help the high-pitched, needy moan that tumbles from her lips, his fingers flexing around her throat as he hisses through gritted teeth at the sensation of her tightening and pulsing walls hugging his cock. he was half-sure it was the fear that made her so tight, only amplified by the drug in her system, and fuck, did it feel good.

he doesn't wait, fucking into her roughly, unleashing his frustrations of the slow month into her needy cunt, as he saw her protests overshadowed by the increasing sounds of her moans.

he fucks through a few of small, quick orgasms which were spurred by the drug, and she'd gone fully dumb, not even bothering to protest, and just letting her eyes roll back and her moans ring out in the cockpit. he's close, and can tell something deep is building in her too, as she's unable to ground herself, leg muscles flexing as she desperately tries to survive the wave of pleasure about to overtake her.

just to see her eyes widen in worry once more, he brings his thumb down to her clit, pressing on it harshly, in a way that was only pleasurable once you got through the pain of it. as he wished, her eyes stare up at his in indignance and pleading - begging him to stop the action - as she writhed in pain, before her breath caught in her throat, and she cums so hard around him, she thinks she's passed out.

when she finally opens her eyes back up, panting and drooling, he's stilled inside her, pumping her full of his cum, making her wince as he pulls out. the effects of the drug are gone, and the reality is sinking in.

she looks at him with anger, disgust and dread, which makes him smirk under his helmet. for the fun of it, he delivers a smack - though not too hard - to her cunt, making her whimper and jolt, before getting up, and returning to the pilot's seat.

he starts landing the razor crest to deliver the bounty. maybe he'll use the credits to deep clean the chair she's creaming and crying over.

[writefightandflightclub]

Uninvited: Nathan Bateman x fem!reader

Summary: Nathan attends the Met Gala, but there’s something missing. That’s you. (If you’re literally Elon Musk please don’t read this 😂.)

Genre: mainly fluff, getting together fic.

Warnings / rating: mature for implied smut but that’s not the focus. Swearing, alcohol mentions (Nathan has a beer). Boss / employee relationship. Some reader self-esteem issues. OOC Nathan, probably (I’m writing him older and a bit more mellow here).

Author’s note: it’s not that deep and it’s not that clever. I just want Nathan to take me to the Met Gala, okay? So, welcome to my self-indulgent drivel 😝 Probably typos, this was only ever meant to exist for me so I didn’t spend a ton of time on it, but hopefully it’s coherent enough?!

You startle when you hear the door to Nathan’s apartment click open, feeling only a little relieved when you see the familiar silhouette of Nathan by the door.

Shit.

He’s not supposed to be back yet! And you’re not supposed to be here at all! He should still be out at the Met Gala, and you -his long-suffering assistant- should very clearly be in your own home on your night off. Certainly not stretched out on your boss’ couch in sweats, eagerly shovelling this snaffled, bougie ice cream into your mouth.

You spring into action immediately, slamming the lid of your laptop shut as first priority. The last thing you would want is for Nathan to realise you’ve been meticulously monitoring the socials, your prime objective to swoon hard over every photo and tik tok of him in that suit on that infamous red carpet - Getty Images be damned for their slowness. Next, you shove the tub of ice cream away from yourself, as though Nathan will be able to tell -somehow- that you have been near crying into it all evening. Your plight is quite a singular one, after all. Not only was your boss - who you are secretly crushing on, by the way - slated to attend the Met Gala without you (the audacity!) but he looks so good whilst doing it that you could easily form a puddle and seep between the cracks in his hardwood floors.

So, when he enters, you spring up from your seat guiltily, and a little too fast, swaying with an instant head rush. Or, perhaps, the sudden light-headedness is because you have finally gotten a good look at Nathan as he steps into the soft light, cast throughout the open plan apartment.

You drink him in and God, he looks even hotter in real-life in this formal get-up. The suit’s a little bland for the Met Gala, granted, even if you had begged his monochrome, minimalist ass to go all out for the occasion. Still, it is tailored to perfection. The details add a little flair beyond his usual attire, a subtle sheen on the lapels, and the fabric cut in the deepest midnight blue, complementing his golden brown skin perfectly. It sits just right too with his metallic silver frames, as well as the few grey hairs which sneak through his dense raven beard, glinting like solder and circuitry. He looks like the night sky, welcoming and deep and dense and alluring as all hell, his eyes hooded, enthralling planets.

To sum up, Nathan looks divine, especially given that he has now loosened off his bow tie - and a few buttons on that crisp white shirt. Given that he has his hands shoved in his pockets, tugging the luxe material tight over his hips and thighs - and ass, no doubt. You bet he looks damn good from behind too.

As he stands there, looking up at you from beneath his lenses in that singular way which turns you into putty, you will your face to contort in any one of the accepted formations - a smile in greeting, perhaps - but, instead, you get the feeling that’s not quite what you’re pulling off. Not at all. In fact, you get the distinct impression that you’re looking at him like a goldfish butting its head up against the side of a tank.

For a moment you feel slightly sick at the thought that he might have returned early because he brought someone home, and you manage to tear your eyes away from his deep, dark allure long enough to scan the place, satisfied to find out that he is indeed alone.

Nathan’s thick brows knit in concern as he surveys you, yet you can detect the faint hint of amusement in his tone when he speaks. You know him well enough to catch the subtle smirk beneath that glorious beard. “You okay, honey, or are you having some kind of aneurism?”

Well. Something is certainly happening to you. He is having an… effect, that’s for sure.

“Sorry. I’m…” You clear the sudden frog in your throat. “I’m not at my apartment. I’m… here.”

Wow. You’re not doing too well, are you?

Meanwhile, Nathan looks at you like you’re stupid, and you decide you’d probably have to pay a lot of dollar to your therapist to figure out why that makes you even hotter for him. Better left alone, you wager. “Yeah. I noticed, sweet cheeks.”

“Sarcasm. That’s a new one,” you say sarcastically, your cheek finally tugging on a smile.

He looks handsome. Beautiful. And, you slouch despondently as you all too suddenly recall your own sloppy sweats situation. He wasn’t supposed to see you like this. Especially not after spending the whole evening rubbing shoulders with the most beautiful people, donned in the most dazzling finery imaginable. He definitely wasn’t supposed to have that unfavourable comparison rattling around in his big fat genius brain, now was he? You already felt like you weren’t good enough for the likes of him.

Regardless, in the next moment, you trip over a million words, wanting to offer up some explanation for your presence, and yet all you manage to say is… precisely nothing. Therefore, to distract yourself from him - and to distract him from wondering what you’re doing here - you sidle over to the fridge, grabbing him a beer and you a mineral water. He looks grateful when you pop the cap, crossing the space to hand it to him, condensation pooling on your fingers.

Instantly, he takes a casual swig, and while he does, you finally manage to compose yourself. At least, halfway there.

“Nathan,” you say plainly. “You do know the Met Gala is happening now, right? I know I put it in your calendar.” You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing towards the humongous TV. “Also, you were there. I saw you on E.”

His eyes crinkle subtly at the corners, with a fondness and a familiarity which -honestly- takes you aback. He doesn’t even seem to mind that you’re in his apartment. This is all… very unexpected.

After all. He’s not supposed to be here! Then again… neither are you.

“What are you doing here?” you both ask at the same time.

Nathan huffs out a breath, impatiently. “You first.”

Well, that’s fair, you suppose. You are in his house uninvited.

As your brain trips over excuses, you barely register when Nathan’s warm hand grips you by the elbow, seamlessly guiding you back towards the couch. Once arrived, he nods for you to take a seat alongside him, plonking his ample ass down.

You bite your thumb nail. “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d finish up some work while you were out.” It sounds plausible, right? No. It doesn’t sound plausible at all, you realise, as Nathan openly surveys the scene on the coffee table before you. He delivers a knowing quirk of his eyebrow. Your palms start to sweat. Your game is all the way up, it looks like. “And then, okay. I ended up watching E, ordering take-out, and eating all your ice cream.” You opt to leave out the part about foaming at the mouth over every snap of him to have graced the internet this evening. Nathan’s ego is huge enough, right, to forego that detail? “It’s just so much nicer here than my shitty place. And I didn’t think you’d be back for ages.” Well, it’s not a lie. However: the whole truth is that you’d simply wanted to be with him tonight, and this -sad as it might be- was as close as you could get. “And I.. God. I just looove the Met Gala, okay?”

“You do?” Nathan’s mouth twitches into an amused smirk as he witnesses your combo of panicked excuses and excited gushing.

“Not that I’d know, obviously. But hey! Clearly I love it more than you do! Why in the hell are you doing back so early anyway?” Nathan simply regards you stoically, and you clap your hands to your cheeks, suddenly imagining the worst. “Oh god. Nathan. What did you do?”

Nathan all but rolls his eyes. “Calm down, honey. Calm down? Well. That’s a nice notion, but you can’t. You can’t quite manage to calm down when he’s looking at you so attentively, long lashes fanning intermittently over his big brown eyes, blown-out and obsidian in this dim light. Not when he’s dressed in that tux jacket and crisp white shirt, the top few buttons loosened off. When the scent of his expensive, intoxicating cologne is wafting over you. “I managed to behave myself. More or less,” he reassures.

“First time for everything.”

“Uh huh.”

“Though it is only like 9pm.”

“Still plenty of time to be naughty, huh?”

Shit. That hits different. You’re used to his flirting by now. His crude comments. His explicit banter. Of course. But you could swear he injected a touch more grit into his deep, robust voice this time. Could swear he looked at you some kind of way, his eyes hooded, animated by a languidly catching spark. And, thinking of what being “naughty” might possibly involve? Well, it has your brain short-circuiting all over again.

That system failure is the only reason you fail to protest as Nathan shifts to the edge of the couch and reaches towards your laptop. It all feels a little blurry and unreal. You can barely even hear the words he’s saying anymore over your loud thoughts. Your thoughts of the bare patch of skin at his neck. His warm, veined hands peeking from beneath those white cuffs. The way his suit jacket tugs taut over his cultivated shoulders as he moves.

“You know who was on my fucking table?” Nathan begins casually, another indicator of his familiarity and comfort with you. “Royce Whistler’s Mother-Broadbean, or whatever the shit his name is. Do you remember - that blonde prick? The guy who called himself a businessman because he played Rollercoaster Tycoon 5 one time or whatever?” You look at him blankly, and Nathan takes that as a sign to continue sharing. “I played him at squash one time - and he got so pissed off at losing he pulled his pants down and stuck his flat, pasty ass up against the glass. Mooned the entire board. Fucking unreal.”

You’re half-listening, but your brain still hasn’t kicked fully into gear. Still hasn’t quite caught up with the fact Met Gala Nathan is here, in front of you, never mind blathering on about his table mates. Your brain certainly has not caught up by the time Nathan is leaning forward, lifting the lid of your laptop with a knowing smirk. “Let’s see what you were up to while I was gone, huh?”

Oh shit.

Your brain catches up so quickly now that your thoughts cause a pile up, and yet there is no time left to stop him.

You could swear that you almost pass out from embarrassment when Nathan finally flips the lid, his action revealing every one of the tabs you have had open this evening. Naturally, of course -just your luck- the first just had to be the most incriminating, didn’t it? He just had to see your BlueBook image search for “Nathan Bateman Met Gala hot”.

His eyes spark, his gaze electric as he drinks in the screen. He sinks his pearly teeth into his plush lower lip and practically grunts. “Searching for wank fodder of your boss, honey?” He clicks his tongue in what you hope is faux disappointment. “And you didn’t even go Boolean.”

“Heh. Trying to,” you scoff, the response -in your head- forming a suitably scathing comeback, alluding to how you couldn’t even find any hot pictures actually because he’s so gross or whatever. Well, you realise quickly that you messed that one up entirely, especially as a smug, lopsided grin blooms on Nathan’s pretty mouth.

Honestly, you were not far off giving yourself a little treat. If Nathan had been a little later he may even have walked in on it. You cheeks heat with shame, though it’s hardly the first time you’ve had sexual thoughts about him. Not even close. Still, it’s not like you are keen for him to know that.

In haste then -nay, desperation- you reach to slam the lid closed, narrowly missing Nathan’s fingertips in the process as he begins to skim effortlessly through your other tabs.

Then, springing to your feet with a surge of guilt once more, you scoop the laptop up against your chest, like an ailing quarterback cradling a football in the closing minutes of the Superbowl. Damn you and your motor mouth! “I meant… Look, actually, never mind what I meant!” Your voice is growing increasingly high-pitched, and Nathan’s face is becoming increasingly smug. “Why are you here?” you accuse, as if he doesn’t have every right to be. “Why aren’t you at -oh I dunno- The Freaking Met Gala?” You even stomp your foot and jab your finger a little, so help you, in your last ditch attempt to turn the tables. And, certainly, in attempt to deflect before Nathan can probe you any further about that so-called “wank fodder”.

Nathan, for his part, leans back ever so casually and deliberately on the couch, his sturdy thighs spread open and straining against the fabric of his pants, his arms hooking backward over the lip of the couch. The shift makes that crisp white shirt ride up over his stomach, straining the buttons to show you glimpses of his smooth tan skin.

Hnnnggggg.

You feel positively ill with desire at this point, and Nathan, meanwhile, looks effortlessly cool. He even takes a casual swig of his beer. “Meh. Honestly? Was kinda boring. And I couldn’t get the image of the mooning Royce Flat Ass-Coachella out of my head. Put me off my fucking caviar. Also, I thought there might be somebody bang-able there. But who the hell wants to risk losing an eye to some pointy-ass fashion apparatus while you’re going down to beaver town, huh?”

Oh goodness. Poor little rich boy!

All that, and he’s bored. And, on the other hand, what you wouldn’t give to attend the spectacle that is the Met Gala! Your little Museum Nerd heart is positively outraged! ���Boring?! Boring, Bateman?! It’s only the most glorious, fabulous institution to exist in modern America!” Highly amused now by your gushing, Nathan stands too. Slowly, and far more calmly than you did, his eyes glowing with a soft, shrouded affection for you, if you’re not mistaken. “Boring, Nathan?!”

“Yeah.” He tightens his lips into a thin line, as though he’s trying to stop himself from saying something he may royally regret as soon as it’s out of his mouth. “Was no fucking fun without you.”

Your eyebrows jump up towards your hairline, your whole torso curling around your still warm and whirring laptop as you tighten it in your arms. You can’t believe the words he’s just spoken. )You especially can’t believe it after all of the hints you’d dropped about wanting to go with him!) Luckily for you though, you’re still having a near out-of-body experience, and so his words fail to register completely. “Boring?! It’s only full of all of the most beautiful, interesting, important people in the country!” you continue, your voice so high and careening now that you’re sure you’re making a mockery of yourself.

Nathan takes a couple of slow, casual steps towards you, still looking at you steadily from beneath his lenses. “Well… almost all of them.”

A swallow bobs down your throat with the unspoken implication, and you dare not follow that thought through to completion.

Then, wordlessly, Nathan shuffles up close to you, and eases the laptop from your grip. He sets it down on the table, and then he turns his gently heating, amused gaze back to you, looking you over in your crumpled sweats.

You swallow, still experiencing cognitive dissonance, Nathan’s words not matching up with what you’ve told yourself for so long - that he could never be interested in you. Instead of acknowledging him then, you instead cling to your futile, part-sensical assertions. “It’s only an unparalleled showcase of the greatest creative costuming of the modern day.” Your argument is losing strength, however. Your voice is breathy and barely there now, as Nathan’s face hovers ever closer to yours.

His voice drops low in his throat, becomes a low, warm rumble which you swear you feel in the pit of your chest. “Maybe. But no-one looked half as cute as you do in these baggy sweats.”

Nope. No way. This isn’t happening.

Your brain is definitely broken now. In fact, all you can do is whimper pathetically as Nathan looks hungrily down at your mouth. Is this some kind of dream? A joke? You have to be sure, before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. Before he makes a fool out of you.

“Really. Nathan. What are you doing here?”

Nathan pauses. Pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. His face goes taut, brows drawing down. “Well. I went to your apartment first, and you weren’t there.”

“Because I’m here.”

“Yeah. No shit.”

You gulp. You gulp as Nathan reaches up to pick a tiny bit of lint from off of your sweater, the gesture so tiny but humungous. His gaze gently, warmly, flits over your face. “Now I’m here too. Asking you…” He sucks air through his teeth, like he’s about to regret all of his decisions in life, but then… he still says it anyway. For the first time in your memory, Nathan Bateman even looks…bashful. “Do you wanna come to The Met Gala with me?”

Your mouth opens and closes wordlessly for a few moments, in complete and utter shock.

“I know, I know.” Nathan concedes, his eyes blinking closed and his palm waving through the air. “I’m a dumb fuck. You’ve been hinting incessantly. To the point of irritation. Beyond even. You’re not subtle, honey. And my timing is beyond shitty. But… what do you think? Will you be my… date?”

You blink at him. Look at him regretfully. “Nathan. I… I can’t. I…”

He quirks a thick eyebrow. Runs a hand over his buzzed head. “Fuck. Why not?”

You have to laugh. This situation is all so completely absurd. But you look down at yourself, your palms gesturing towards your clothes. “I… don’t have anything to wear.”

Nathan purses his lips then, and nods contemplatively, releasing a long-held breath, perhaps even in relief. “So the clothes thing is the issue? The idea of dating your asshole boss doesn’t bother you?”

You swear his eyes have grown uncharacteristically soft, hopeful even, but of course, your mouth runs off ahead of you to ruin the moment before you can even get there.

“I mean. Nathan. I’d go to the Freaking Met Gala with anyone who was willing to get me in there, honestly. Elon fucking Musk if he asked me. It’s not like I’d be fussy.” Nathan gives you a glare. Curls his tongue around his top lip in mild aggravation. And, there it is. That hand settling on his jutted hip. “Of course. I’m not saying he’d get to any bases. Bleuch. I’d ditch him right after the canapés.” You slide your palm over your face, regretting your motor mouth as Nathan eyes you judgementally over the brim of his frames. Holy shit. Why exactly are you still talking? “Wow. I sure wish someone would shut me the hell up.”

Nathan shifts gently, winding his hands around your waist, his fingers clawing into the soft fabric of your hoody like they belong there on lazy Sunday mornings. “You’re in luck, honey. I’ve been dying to help with that for months now.” His thick eyebrow sweeps up suggestively, and you can’t believe this is happening. You feel giddy. You feel like you’re in some kind of modern fairytale and Nathan is Prince Charming. Or, wait… maybe Prince Crude or something would suit him better.

“Nathan!” You emit a dirty laugh and attempt to bat him in the chest, but in that moment he tugs you closer. And so, your palm simply ends up resting lightly against his chest, your fingertips grazing over the bare brow skin beneath the “V” at his neck. Fuck, he looks hot. Feels warm and smooth. Your knees are barely keeping you up at this point.

What in the actual fuck is happening right now?!

“So, how about it?” Nathan prods, giving the closest thing to puppy dog eyes that you’ve seen from the man, the edge on his usually cool, calculating stare completely blunted - only for you. “Will you come with me?”

You want to say yes. Of course you do. Want to jump at the chance. But this is all so surreal you can barely think straight. Can barely imagine a world where you could be the woman who gets to attend a Gala on Nathan “Gift from God” Bateman’s arm. “You’re impossible, Nathan! I mean. You’re asking me while it’s already happening? This is all kind of crazy!”

“I know. You’re right,” he concedes, drawing back from you and clicking his tongue. Shoving his hands back into his pockets. He does indeed look good from behind, you are delighted to confirm.“Don’t know what I was thinking.”

You fold your arms around yourself, getting whiplash. This is all happening so quickly, and now it might not even be happening at all? “Now, wait a second. Let’s not be so hasty.”

Nathan wafts his hand through the air. “No. You’re right. I’ll call that upper east side boutique you obsess over back. What was the name again? I’ll them they don’t need to open back up after all. Tell them we don’t need a last minute gown.”

Your jaw drops and you audibly gasp. “Nathannnnn!”

He turns back towards you, and you can see the spark of mirth in his eyes. Can detect that he’s teasing you. That this whole thing is still very much on the table, if you want it. “Nathan Bateman. Are you seriously taking me to the Met Gala?” you squeal, unable to contain your excitement any longer.

“So long as you don’t ditch me after the fucking canapés, Princess.”

You subdue a face splitting grin, wanting badly to revel in it - but still not quite sure yet what you’ve done to deserve this. Not even the Gala, the gown, all that. Most importantly, this attention from your long-time crush. The man who, over time, has become so much more than your asshole boss. Your close friend. Someone you could even imagine a future with, so help you.

“I promise not to ditch you, Bateman - at least not until the entrées.” His eyes crinkle again at the corners and it makes you feel ten feet tall. “But… I don’t get it, Bateman.” It is your turn to take two steps towards him now. For your gaze to flit gently, warmly, over his face. Over that groomed, raven beard. His tan skin and his huge, brown, earnest eyes. “Why me?”

Your question seems to take Nathan by surprise. He looks a little more severe all of a sudden. More serious. A weight settles into his heavy brow, yet his eyes remain soft beneath it. “Well, kitten. I was -supposedly- hanging out with the most beautiful, interesting, and important people in the country and…”

“A-And what, Nathan?” You swallow, your heart thrumming and voice trembling at the potential implication of his words. He’s not going to say it though. You already know he isn’t going to say it. That “not one of them had anything on you”.

“And… it sucked ass,” Nathan finishes unceremoniously, in typical fashion. “And not in a good way.”

“S-so, you need me to be there?” You’re not above fishing for your compliments. You cast your line, waiting to see what you can manage to reel in.

Nathan’s brow folds with a newer weight. One which he can’t seem to shake off through smugness or humour or deflection. “Fine. You want me to play my fucking hand, honey? Here it is. Met Gala, Schmet Gala. I got there, and I realised that I…” His voice cracks with the weight of a million tiny revelations, hinted at in his eyes and they way they begin to sparkle. But, he doesn’t say it. Not every revelation he may have had tonight. Still, he does say something. He does say just enough. “I just… I realised that I just needed to be where you were.” Nathan reaches up then, and he lifts your chin with the crook of his finger. “So. We can get you a gown, if you want, and we can hit it up.” His eyes flick towards the TV, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. He offers a second option. “We can stay here and eat ice cream and watch E replay my Nathan’s Ass Broke The Internet red carpet moment all night long.” His eyes turn smug and dark, and a hunger intensifies in them as he looks you up and down again. “Or,” he says, slipping his expensive jacket off of his sculpted form, and passing it carefully around your shoulders. “You can go just like this. Technically, it’s now a Tom Ford ensemble. Would get you through the gate.” You even think he’s serious. You even think he’d have you by his side exactly as you are. That he sees you as beautiful, just like this.

You giggle into your palm. “I’m a mess!”

“No. You look good,” Nathan insists, not a whiff of a lie on him. In fact, as he drinks you in, he looks like he’s melting too. Like he might form a puddle and dribble through the floorboards any moment.

You finally allow a giddy, joyful, disbelieving smile to claim your face, and you reach up to fiddle coquettishly with Nathan’s loosened bow tie. “You look good.”

“Oh, I know, honey. Perfect wank fodder right?” He tips your head, allowing his lips to ghost up the column of your neck. He hums lightly when he reaches your pulse point, his mouth tasting your perfume. “Naughty girl. Gonna make you show me later, huh?” He presses a kiss to your throat. “If you want that,” he adds for good measure, and the addition makes you even hotter for him. He’s far softer and more gentle than you ever would have imagined, treating you like an intricate, delicate thing. You’ve seen his hands be careful as he worked his machines, but you never imagined them quite like this on your own skin. As though you were something magnificent. Special.

You feel another surge of embarrassment at the thought of showing Nathan how much he turns you on, as mental images carousel through your mind. You move to dip your face into Nathan’s chest; however, delicately, seamlessly, he crooks his finger to lift your mouth to his instead, his lips covering yours with a soft, earnest kiss. He hums into it, his tongue tentatively twining with yours as you open up for him.

You blink in disbelief as he breaks for air, your lips still tingling from the contact, your arms now hanging limply by your sides.

“Christ, honey. I’d better not kiss you on the red carpet.”

“And why not?!” On the contrary. You want a lot more where that came from.

“You look like a fucking goldfish. That good, huh?” There his crooked finger is again, gently fixing your slack jaw.

Well that won’t do. And so, with a determined, hungry glint in your eye, you pull Nathan back into your kiss by his lapels, slanting your mouth against him, kissing him deep and hungry. Kissing him until there is a moan spooling from his chest. Until, this time, Nathan is the one who is slack-jawed and dumb-founded when you pull away, his eyes fluttered closed and lips still puckered in search of you.

“You’re right,” you agree, surveying his own goldfish face. “No kissing on the red carpet. You’ll just have to grab my ass instead,” you snicker, and Nathan slowly wafts back down to earth. You could swear he even blushes at the suggestion, a crimson flush deepening the colour of his cheeks.

He strokes his hands up and down your forearms, searching your eyes. “So are we doing this? Because I have about 20 people on standby and ready to go.”

“You do?”

Nathan takes your hands. “Yeah. And I know you won’t wanna miss the exhibition tour, right? You big dork,” he teases with a sweet grin - as if he isn’t the biggest dork you know.

You clap your hands to your cheeks then, the situation suddenly feeling less like a fantasy and growing all too real. You feel a sudden flurry of nerves at the realisation there will be so many eyes on you. “I’m nervous,” you admit.

Nathan sighs, begins to grumble under his breath. “Christ. Don’t make me say it.”

You look at him quizzically.

He sighs again. More deeply this time. His words come out rather reluctantly, but no less full of meaning. “You’re gonna be the most beautiful, interesting, important person in the whole fucking joint. And I should know.”

“Oh yeah, Bateman?”

“Yeah. Got bored of those losers after 5 minutes, but you…?” His eyes twinkle again, with sentiments deeper than his words dare illuminate. You can see him rein it in a little. Backtrack. Keep things Nathan-y. Respond in his typical fashion. “Well. It’s been 9 months now and you’re still here. Clearly, you’re annoying enough to keep things interesting, Princess. Not bad to look at either.”

You chide him playfully with your eyes for the backhander, but despite his words, he’s looking at you with nothing but sweetness. “Besides, you’re gonna look like total wank fodder.”

You laugh. “Okay. True. But can we please retire that phrase? Otherwise I just know you’re gonna say it on E, and your publicist will kill me.”

“Publicist schmublicist,” Nathan breezes, and he pulls you into him for another kiss, a smile cracking beneath his raven beard. “Anyway, honey, you started it.”

You protest, bickering back and forth, exchanging snark as Nathan puts his arm around you and guides you out of the apartment. He leads you out of the lobby to where he has a car waiting, and he opens the door for you to clamber inside. Your belly is full of nerves and excitement, and you eye him with fondness as he calls up the boutique -your favourite, but one you are usually priced out of- to confirm you’re on your way over.

You can’t believe your dream of heading to the Met Gala is coming true. But most of all, you’re elated that Nathan wants you next to him. You’d always believed you weren’t good enough for him, but here he is, eager to show you off to the whole world. To have fun with you and enjoy your company.

It’s funny, you think. He wasn’t meant to be here tonight, and nor were you. But somehow, you think, you each ended up exactly where you were supposed to be.

Nathan hangs up his call and turns to you. “You okay?” He smooths a hand up your thigh and you nod, still smiling softly. “What kind of outfit do you want? It’s on me.”

Your eyes glint with mischief. “Nothing pointy.” Nathan takes a moment to catch your drift. “I don’t wanna put your eye out when you visit beaver town later, do I?”

You think you’d like something simple actually. Something to match Nathan. He may be a complicated man, but in many ways he’s so entirely straightforward. It’s one of the many things you like about him.

For a moment, Nathan looks lost for words, a swallow sinking down his throat. You can tell he’s already eager to follow that plan through to completion. “Please. Honey. Tell me we can we skip the after party?” He looks like he can’t wait for what you’re suggesting.

“How long is this ride?” you ask, arcing an eyebrow suggestively.

“What are you saying?”

“So you reckon you’ve got time to get a whole four bases further than Elon ever could?”

Nathan’s eyes glow with something bright and inexplicable. “You’re fucking unreal.”

“Oh, Nathan,” you purr, as he slides up the divider in the front, giving you some privacy. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

[whiskeypascals]

Open Arms

(NOT MY GIF)

Request from anon!!

Warnings: Major character death, mention of Y/N panicking, Joel blaming himself, somewhat ooc Joel (he’s so insecure please get him a therapist jfc), not necessarily a warning but this can be seen as platonic or romantic!

Summary: It was 10 years after the outbreak, Y/N left his home town and found Joel, who was on a smuggling mission. After completing it, Joel decided that keeping Y/N around would be helpful in the long run to get to Tommy, who was in Wyoming as of the last time Joel had heard anything. On the way out west, Joel opens up more to Y/N bit by bit and they found love in a the wasteland that’s left of the planet. They get to Wyoming and Tommy isn’t there, no trace of him even. it sparks something in Joel and things take a complete turn and Joel ends up leaving and as soon as he goes, they get trapped by a group of fireflies and Joel really regrets what he says

On the day of the outbreak, Y/N had no choice but to stay where he was, but after ten years, he couldn’t stand to stay in this place anymore. The QZ was full of fascist FEDRA officers who would do anything to keep ‘order’. The streets would be patrolled all night long, there would be casual searches of apartments where they claimed they would look for criminals but all they would do was go in and take people away from their families and shoot at any sign of protest. There were many nights where Y/N was awoken by screaming from his neighbors but he couldn’t get up and fight for them.

He couldn’t fucking take it any longer.

So, he left. He snuck out of his building under the cover of night fall and made it out like he’d seen smugglers do so many times from the window.

It was nearing a year since Y/N left the QZ, he’d come and go from different groups of people and ended up alone and scared for what seemed like the millionth time.

That’s when he came.

Joel.

He was on a smuggling trip and was making his way to Michigan, and got caught in an ambush and found Y/N hiding.

“No don’t shoot!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing his hands up “I’m unarmed.” he said, keeping his hands where Joel could see.

“Please help me, I don’t know who those people are. Please.” He started to beg, “I escaped my QZ about a year ago.”

Joel looked around and put his finger up to his lips. Y/N stopped talking and Joel moved to hide in the same spot that Y/N was just minutes ago. Y/N crouched back down next to Joel and watched as a few trucks passed by.

“Name.” That wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Y/N.” Y/N whispered.

“Where did you come from.” Another stern demand.

“San Francisco QZ.”

Y/N didn’t know why he trusted Joel as much as he did in this moment, it was probably because he was in a life or death situation right now and he was his only chance of making it out alive.

“Listen, I’m goin’ to get us out but you have to listen to what I say, and then you’ll be on your way Y/N.”

Y/N nodded.

The two stood up and Joel pulled the gun off of his hip and held it out in front of him as he slowly treaded into the street, it was dark outside but he couldn’t pull out his light because it was an obvious death wish.

Joel heard shooting behind them. He turned around and shoved Y/N back behind him and cocked his gun. There was someone shooting at them from afar.

“Shit aim.” He said to himself before he himself started shooting.

“Stay behind me.”

Joel walked toward where the person was shooting from, luckily it was only one person and Joel one shotted them.

“God damn idiot.”

Joel turned back around and the two kept quiet as they walked out of danger.

“Thank you.” Is all that Y/N could say when they were far away from the town.

“Keep quiet, there might be some more of them out here.”

“I think you’re overthinking”

Joel turned around, “I’m thinking rationally, we have no idea what’s out here.”

Y/N sighed, “Yeah, sorry…” He thought for a second, “Hey I never got your name.”

“Why do you need to know, we’re splitting our ways, I’m goin’ to finish my job and you’re gonna keep surviving.”

The two did not split ways.

It was a week later and Joel had brought Y/N all the way to the city in Michigan where he was taking his cargo to, and in return he got another gun from the person he was selling to.

“Here, you must know how to use it if you’ve been out here for this long.” Joel handed the pistol to Y/N, who nodded in agreement.

“Where are we going from here?”

Joel said nothing.

“Joel?”

“I’ve got a brother out west, I was thinking that I could get there easier if I had you navigating the way.” It took him ages to finally reply to Y/N’s question.

“What if he’s not there?”

“He will be.”

The two men walked out of the abandoned building that Joel met his buyer in and Y/N spoke up.

“The distance is a good fifteen hundred miles so if you have a truck hidden somewhere like all that ammo, it would be best to find it.”

“We’ll make do.”

The first few days went by cruelly slow, back and forth bickering between Joel and Y/N and sleeping in the middle of the woods feet apart, but as the days went past, the two started to open up more to each other. It was easier said than done for Joel, but Y/N had no issues with sharing his most of his story.

It was day twelve of walking and Y/N had found themselves in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t like Y/N hadn’t been going this way before, but that was a year ago, so to say the least they were lost.

“Joel, I hate to say this to you but we might need to find a map.”

“Y/N tell me where we can find a map, look where the hell we are.”

“I sort of remember this area, there should be a truck stop somewhere.”

Joel said nothing and just kept walking.

Five miles later there was indeed an old truck stop, worn away by time and taken over by wildlife.

“You swear it’s empty?” Joel said, looking for an entrance.

“Well, I can’t promise anything, so pay attention to everything.”

“Save that advice for yourself Y/N” Joel found a loose board covering up a broken glass door and the two went inside.

They were met with the smell of mold and decay, the only sounds that could be heard were their footsteps crunching on the debris on the floor.

“Let’s find the map and get out, ���kay, I think I remember the layout of this place” Y/N said quietly.

Joel nodded, it felt good to Y/N for Joel to agree with him for once, even if what he said was common knowledge between the two.

‘Oh you have to be fucking kidding me.’ Joel thought to himself, looking around seeing two dead bodies of what looked like smugglers based solely on what they were wearing. Y/N’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped

“Fuck.” He mouthed

He pulled his gun out and Y/N did the same. They both held their weapons out and started walking, it got to a point in the building where the sunlight stopped leaking in and the both of them had to pull their flashlights out too.

That’s when Y/N heard the clicking.

He turned to Joel and put a finger over his mouth. Joel turned to look forward and took the smallest steps he possibly could to not make any noise and Y/N walked in the same manner.

They got to the back room where a clicker stood. Joel went to line up his shot, but before he even got his finger on the trigger, a gunshot from Y/N rang out. The clicker turned and screamed a guttural sound, Joel let out two quick shots from his gun and the clicker fell to the floor.

“We have to get out of here. Now.” He said bluntly, Y/N turned to run out of the truck stop and made it to the doorway they came in before realizing that Joel wasn’t behind him.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Y/N started to panic.

“JOEL?” He yelled out.

“Y/N GO.” Joel yelled back, he sounded far away from where Y/N was standing, there were two gunshots and then the sound of heavy boots on tile floor, Y/N got out of the door and waited for Joel to make it and slammed the board against the door.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” is all Joel said between heavy breaths.

“What happened back there?” Y/N grabbed onto Joel’s arm, “Scared the fuck out of me man.”

“Those smugglers turned, they almost got me.”

“Thank god they didn’t, I don’t want to be out here alone again.”

“Thank you for waiting, I’m not 100% sure if they’re dead so we have to get going.”

“What about the map?”

“Fuck that map, we need to go, Y/N.”

The two kept walking West. It would take at least 6 more days for the two to even make it to Wyoming, let alone find where Tommy was.

Just as it started to turn to night, Joel and Y/N decided to stop for that night and set up camp in the woods so if anything was coming, they would be able to hear if a branch snapped or leaves rustled.

“Hey, Joel, can I ask you something?” Y/N asked, setting down the lamp that Joel brought.

Joel looked up from where he was laying out their sleeping bags.

“Do you have any other family out here besides Tommy?”

“M-mm.” Joel shook his head.

He really didn’t, he would have Sarah if he could have saved her that day, but things didn’t go the way he had planned to that night.

“D’you?” Joel asked, getting into his sleeping bag.

“No. My sister died the night of the outbreak, we’d planned to get to LA but it was so damn crowded in the streets, the runners got to her before we could run out of the town.”

Joel turned to see Y/N starting to tear up.

“Sorry, talking about her makes me so emotional, she was only 17. It almost felt like I was her dad, or at least in that moment.”

Y/N sniffed and laid down in his sleeping bag.

“I know how you feel,” Joel turned off the lamp and laid down too.

“You said you didn’t have family out here?”

“I lost my little girl when the outbreak started.”

“How old?”

“12.”

Joel turned away to face away from Y/N

“Fuck I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have asked if I knew it would upset you.”

Y/N sat up and looked over to Joel, he’d never seen the older man so vulnerable.

“Joel,” Y/N moved closer to him “I’m sorry. I know how you feel, I know that you feel like you need to protect me, and I need you to know that I’m gonna survive this and we’ll get out asses to Wyoming and find your brother.” He said putting his hands on Joel’s shoulder. He felt the man tremble slightly under his touch.

“You don’t need to apologize, Y/N.” Joel shrugged Y/N’s hand off his shoulder and turned to look at him, Y/N got up and kneeled by Joel’s side to hug him.

Joel didn’t know what to do at first honestly, it was the first time he had felt any empathy in 11 years. Just as Y/N was going to pull away and apologize, Joel swung his arm around his side and hugged him tightly.

“Okay, shit Joel, too tight.” Y/N struggled to say, Joel took his arms out from around Y/N and mumbled a small ‘sorry’.

“Tell me about her in the morning.” Y/N said, scooting back to his sleeping bag.

Joel nodded and reached to turn off the lantern behind the two of their heads.

Joel didn’t get much sleep that night, he kept waking up and falling back asleep to only repeat the process until morning. That was a common occurrence for him lately. When the sun came up, Joel started getting all of his things together to be prepared when Y/N woke up. It was only about a half an hour before he did wake up though.

When he woken up, he saw that all of Joel’s things had gone and he started to think that Joel left him like he had done with so many different groups of people.

“Morning.” Joel said from a few feet away, he was sitting on a tree trunk that had fallen down a long time ago.

Y/N let out a sigh of relief and got up from his spot. He noticed that Joel had packed all of their stuff up into their backpacks except his sleeping bag. He rolled it up quickly and fastened it so it wouldn’t come undone while they were walking.

“What was she like?” Y/N asked after a while.

“She was a lot like her mom, same eyes and smile y’know, things like that.”

Joel kept what he said about Sarah short and sweet and they moved on from there.

It felt weird to Joel to be this open with someone he met less than a month ago, but it somehow felt right to him at the same time.

The two kept walking, and walking, and walking some more for a full day and a full night. They reached a sign that read

“Welcome to Nebraska!” In massive letters, it was covered in graffiti and rust from all the time it was out there with no one to keep it pretty.

As day turned to night once again, Joel and Y/N found a place far from any life that would be out there, and called it a night.

Joel watched Y/N lay out his sleeping bag and turned to do the same, he thought for a second and decided to speak on his thoughts.

“Y/N, bring your sleeping bag closer.”

“Uh, okay,” He moved his stuff closer and sat down on top of it. “Is everything alright Joel?”

Joel nodded, “Yeah just thinkin’” He said quietly.

“So you wanted me to move closer to you because you’re thinking?” Y/N laughed a little.

“Yeah about you idiot.”

Y/N looked and Joel confused

“Why are you so nice to me?”

Y/N went to speak but Joel cut him off

“I’m mean and I’m bossy, I have no redeeming traits.”

Joel finished and Y/N sat there for a minute thinking of what to say.

The hardened man he had grown to know just spilled out to him and he honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Joel, you saved my life, you’ve kept me out of danger that would have killed me by now, yes you’re mean but that’s who you are.” he finally said breaking the silence that seemed hours long.

Joel hugged Y/N, just like they hugged when Joel told him about Sarah.

“Can we uh, sleep like this?” Y/N suggested, still hugging Joel tight, he was enjoying the human touch just as much as Joel was.

“It’s kinda complicated with two separate sleeping bags Y/N. How big is yours?”

Y/N tensed at those words and Joel noticed.

“Your fuckin’ sleeping bag Y/N.” Joel said flatly.

“Oh it’s big enough for both of us I think, we’d have to squeeze together but it would work.”

Joel let go of Y/N and scooted out of his own sleeping bag and Y/N got in and opened up the zipper to let Joel squeeze in next to him. It was kind of uncomfortable at first for both of them and they knew they would wake up with aching backs but they repositioned themselves and got comfortable.

That was one of the first nights Joel had slept fully through.

‘I’m fuckin’ losin’ it.’ He thought when he woke up with the heat off of Y/N’s body radiating onto his back and an arm around his waist.

He was again, the first to wake up and the moment he moved to try and get up, Y/N woke up.

“You feeling better Joel?”

Joel hummed in response, as much as he hated feeling vulnerable, he really liked having someone not tell him that he should fix himself.

“Good, let’s get going.”

The two packed up their stuff and trekked through rain and sun until they reached a sign that brought a smile to Joel’s face.

It was the first time that Y/N had seen Joel smile a genuine smile.

“Kay enough ogling the sign let’s go find Tommy.” Y/N smiled.

“Welcome to Wyoming.”

As Joel and Y/N walked further into the state, they were awestruck about how beautiful the landscape managed to stay,

“Joel listen,” Y/N whispered

“It’s just deer Y/N.”

“No those steps are too heavy.”

“Well, whatever it is I’m sure they don’t need us to help, there’s no screaming.”

Y/N nodded and they kept walking.

They had finally reached Casper, the last place Joel had heard from Tommy, the city was desolate, not a single form of life as far as the eye could see. Joel’s joy suddenly disappeared.

“Where is he?” Y/N asked quietly.

“I- He-.”

Joel screamed out Tommy’s name, he didn’t want to think that he wasn’t here anymore, he needed him back. Ten years was a long time without your brother.

“Joel we’ll find him don’t worry,” Y/N went to put his hand on Joel’s shoulder, put Joel pushed it away before it even made contact.

“You don’t know dangerous this place is for him, Y/N. He could be dead.” Joel started getting angry and Y/N backed away from him.

“Joel, I do know.” Y/N assured

“You only survived because I helped you, you were unarmed and you would have died, and do you think Tommy is armed?”

“Yes Joel, he was a firefly of course he would be armed.”

Joel sighed and stopped talking and Y/N scanned his face for any emotion.

“I need to go, I dug myself too deep and I need to go and you need to go back to San Francisco.”

“Joel, I can’t go back, they’ll kill me, and I know you’ve been smuggling for a long time but you were just as lost as I was when we needed to find a map, I can help you Joel.” Y/N begged.

“No, I’m going to look all around here and find my fucking brother.”

Joel walked away and Y/N just watched him,

“Joel, don’t fucking leave me here.” He started to get choked up.

Joel said nothing and kept walking.

Y/N accepted defeat and turned away so he wouldn’t have to watch Joel leave.

Just as Joel reached the door of the building they were in, he noticed a group of people walking towards it, he turned around and ran back to the room Y/N was in.

“I thought you were leaving, Joel.” Y/N said, he was sitting on the floor with back against the wall.

“There are people coming towards here, we need to hide. Right now.”

“What?”

“Right now, Y/N.”

Joel helped Y/N stand up and they found a smaller room off the room that they were already in and crouched down behind boxes.

They were in the same position they were the night they met. Joel was crouched in front of Y/N and pulling out his gun, and Y\N was behind Joel, he was armed this time, but it still felt the same to him.

“Joel, let me go out there I can protect myself.”

“No. You stay he-“

Before Joel could even finish his sentence, Y/N was getting up from behind him.

“Fuck. Y/N, get the fuck back behind me!” Joel whisper-shouted.

Y/N didn’t listen and he made his way back into the room they were in moments prior.

It was almost cliche how Y/N was struck down as soon as he walked into the open area. Joel heard the gunshot and booked it into the room.

“Holy shit.” is all he said when three firefly members stood in front of the door to leave.

“Joel?” Y/N asked weakly.

“Hey, stay with me Y/N don’t fucking do this, I’m sorry for what I said earlier please don’t fucking do this to me.” Joel started tearing up.

Four shots rung out through the building, Joel shot all three of the members, he missed one but almost instantly got them down with the fourth shot.

“Joel, who were those people?”

“I don’t know Y/N,” Joel looked down to see blood spilling onto the floor. “Fuck, c’mon we have to get you up.” Y/N winced as Joel tried to slide his arm under his waist.

“Joel stop.” Y/N said, pushing Joel’s arms off of him.

“Please, Y/N I- I’m sorry for saying you would have died back in Chicago.”

Joel just broke down at this point, he gripped onto the front of Y/N’s shirt and held him in his arms, just like he did that night in Nebraska it hit him, he realized that no matter how much he tried, people around him would keep getting hurt or killed, it happened to Sarah, God knows what happened to Tommy, and now it’s Y/N.

All Joel could think about was how he said that Y/N would have never survived and that’s why he got up when he had told him to stay behind him,

He wanted to prove to Joel that he could save himself.

And that’s what killed him. Words that came out of Joel’s mouth. Words that Joel said to him. Joel thinking that he was weak.

The man would never forgive himself, he would never let anyone close to him ever again in fear of the pattern repeating.

[isagrimorie]

🌀❌?

for the Star Trek ask game

🌀 If the holodeck was real, what would be the first thing you'd use it for?

Answered this question here

❌ One storyline/plot point that you hate from your favourite ST show/movie.

Star Trek Voyager: Retrospect- the story was supposed to tackle the infamous court case about false memories. Except it reads more like a 'Don't Believe the Victims of Sexual Assault'. Fury. WTH was that, why would they do that to Kes???

Romulans. Or, at least the Bad Romulans. The good ones I'm okay with but my god, the Bad Romulans are such Chumps. 100% of the time they shoot themselves in the foot and then they cut off their nose to spite people who would help them. From TNG to Picard. At least the Borg and Cardassians are interesting.

TASHA YAR. WTF WAS HER LIFE??? SHE GREW UP ON A PLANET WITH ROVING RAPE GANGS??? She was given a second chance at life for a heroic death in Yesterday's Enterprise only to survive to become a comfort woman, who had to carry a child of rape to term. And have Sela, who has such internalized hatred for her Human side she doesn't even care for her own mother.

Speaking of, Kira Nerys' lack of sympathy for her mother, who became Gul Dukat's comfort woman, just so her family could live a more comfortable life. OOC and WTF???

SARAH SISKO'S LIFE. This Poor Woman. She closed her eyes and when she opened her eyes again, she was married to a man she doesn't know with a child she doesn't remember giving birth to. And then her husband tracks her down, and before he can see her, Sarah 'accidentally' dies in a shuttlecraft accident.

Cribbing from a podcast: Troi's Storylines with Ambassadors Who Take Advantage of Her. No, not that Ambassador, the other one.

It's not hate but it's an annoyance, a personal bugbear one would say, like for example: Why Are SNW Shuttlecrafts so Big and Roomy? Why is Pike's Enterprise's internal dimensions so Damned Big? Is it A TARDIS? Is that why??

There are other complaints of course, but these are top of mind.

[why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat]

If we're using Danny became a (baby) god in this hc, that'll make Star a Prophet and Sam a Disciple. Danny may be King but he's first and foremost the Ancient of Space. Space includes stars and planets which branches to their magic, which is divining.

For DC it could work that their site caught the attention of the JLD because some things are just way to specific in the subcategories and they were reported as always coming true. JLD didn't look into the claims seriously (for one reason or another) and started to make jokes that the writers were pandering to luck, Occam's Razer, Murphy's Law, and idiots who didn't know better. It wasn't until they looked at Constantine's horoscope from the day before that they started taking this site seriously. (ooc probably, no ships just John being John)

Zatanna hummed as her eye caught onto the bookmark of a horoscope site that was reported to the JLD. Looking up from the computer she smirked at Constantine who was laying on the couch across the room. "Remember that bogus site? The one with the horoscopes?" The man groaned and rubbed at his face.

"Darling, they're all bogus. I know which one you're talking about but we both know that nothing will come out of it." She rolled her eyes at the mans attitude but clicked on the bookmark. He's a big boy, he can deal with it. "Zatanna, you better have not just clicked on that damned site. The only that's going to happen is you wasting both our time."

She didn't bother responding to him and instead started to search through for the right horoscopes. "What's your birthday again?" A groan answered her.

"Ah fuck it, might as well see what shite they wrote. 10th of May, 1983." Zatanna put it in as Constantine apparently decided to finally get up from the couch that he's been laying on since he finished his mission yesterday. The site finished loading the horoscope just as Constantine stopped to stand behind her chair.

⭐✨Early May Horoscope for the Middle Aged! ✨⭐

• Don't forget to feed your fish and swans if you have them! Your neighbor will file a complaint against the authorities if you don't. The cat will knock over the flower vase 7 minutes after you read this.

• Did you get into a fight with your lover? Buy them a steak or tofu soup and your car won't be destroyed in the next alien invasion. If your car is red then it will be totaled anyways.

• Forgot to read this yesterday? We'll put it in again. Don't sleep on the couch after a bad day at work. The Ardbeg you are drinking right now will make the headache worse and you will puke for 3 hours straight.

There was more down the list but Zatanna heard Constantine choke on whatever he was drinking. "Fuck!" She whipped her head around to see Constantine thumping his hand against his chest. Holding an Ardbeg bottle. He pointed a finger at the computer and coughed out a, "Guess those bellends aren't bellends after all."

You know what I think is underutilized?

Of which Danny's Space Obsession is not only NASA things. It also includes FREAKING HOROSCOPES.

and you know what else that's obsessed with stars?

ZODIAC

THAT'S RIGHT

AT LEAST A GOOD THIRD OF PANDORA'S PEOPLE WOULD HAVE OBSESSION WITH STARS- while the history of the symbols is unknown apparently they seem to appear first in GREEK MANUSCRIPT IN LATE MIDDLE AGES.

I kinda headcannon that Star would also have a phase (or maybe she'll have it forever, who even knows) of which she's also obsessed with zodiacs considering her name. You know. Hint hint.

Star should have a freaking friendship with Danny regarding HOROSCOPES. She'll be one of the A-listers who can talk with that Specific Nerd that Dash likes to target because of STARS~ ☆

She's very much excused for hanging around Fenturd at times because she's Paulina's bestie, thank you very much. The GOSSIP she can get using HOROSCOPES is amazing, and sometimes she can warn her fellow A-listers from Danny's Horoscope ramblings because SAGITTARIUS GO HOME EARLY! YOU NEED THIS GOING HOME EARLY- (Dash/Kwan/etc does do what Star says and finds that they definitely is very much useful for their future/safety)

And you know, while I usually don't go to stereotypes, I'd also think that Sam would Commit to the Bit with her Gothness that she'd research Magic. And guess what would connect with dem STARS or HOROSCOPES? That's right, MAGIC.

Let Sam have Danny to consult about something something stars something in Supernatural thing (very much helped with HIS OWN COMMUNITY OF STAR LOVERS IN ANCIENT GREEK IN GHOST ZONE) and Star to translate some jargons Danny said that she doesn't understand-

Coz communication, baby~ ☆

And ofc; either Star or Sam OR BOTH would have some form of blog regarding their Star Talks-

-and have the actual magicians that actually use stars for their magic potions/rituals/etc to wonder just how the hell these high schoolers have access to knowledge that's only found in ancient tomes.

I legit dunno much about DC magic but. I like to think that sometimes stars have roles to their magic bullshittery ok?

[empyreanparadisaea]

ooc. An update!

It's been a week since my surgery (this past Wednesday, currently it's a week and 2 days today). Thank you all for the wishes and good vibes! They might've worked since I saw my surgeon yesterday for a week follow up and he said I looked fantastic!

I did get a bit of bad news, in that I have to use a certain medical device for another 2 weeks but aside from that I'm mostly happy I look and feel good. And with the surgeon's words too.

I'll probably give myself another week or so before doing things here again. At least until I'm used to this god damn device. Or I might take another week after that. I dunno I gotta see how I feel.

As always if you need me IM me on Tumblr messages or discord if you have it. Or if you wanna game with me on either Genshin or Hsr lmk! (Though I do prefer voice call bc genshin can't fucking do messages well)

Also ye I started doing hsr. I finish first planet, in the middle of the second one now I think?

I hate Shampoo (affectionate) I might roleplay as him in the future. Idk again depends on how I feel.

Anyways I'm gonna lay down again. Bye!

[wolfshurricane]

     Doing research on host clubs in Japan and, “Japanese host clubs, on the other hand, are a popular spot for women to sit and chat with handsome and confident men and have flirtatious conversations and encounters.” so where’s my thread of Yamcha hitting it off with a customer?????

[rbeljedi]

consider: there’s an ep of the mandadlorian on tatooine.  luke follows the mando and the child to try to see if he can help reunite the child with his people and ends up back on tatooine, again, and is recognized bc of course he is, and he just hates his entire life all over again. 

[chiefmedical]

tag drop !!

❛ all i’ve got left is my bones. ❛ ( re: leonard mccoy )

❛ i don’t believe in the no win scenario. ❛ ( re: james kirk )

❛ fear of death is illogical. ❛ ( re: spock )

❛ the wife took everything but my bones. ❛ ( re: jocelyn darnell )

❛ i’m dedicating every day to you. ❛ ( re: joanna mccoy )

❛ and did I not on multiple occasions demonstrate an exceptional aural sensitivity. ❛ ( re: nyota uhura )

❛ revenge is a dish that is best served cold. ❛ ( re: khan noonien singh )

❛ i cannot believe i live in a world where mark ruffalo exists! ❛ ( re: ooc )

❛ damn it man i’m a doctor. ❛ ( re: musings )

❛ i’ve found that evil usually triumphs. ❛ ( re: aesthetics )

❛ i’m beginning to think i could cure a rainy day. ❛ ( re: character study )

❛ the wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. ❛ ( verses: star trek 09 )

❛ i’m a doctor not a goddamn torpedo technician. ❛ ( verses: into darkness  )

❛ fear of death is what keeps us alive. ❛ ( verses: beyond )

❛ little piece of infinity. ❛ ( verses: closed aos au with caesarofstars )

❛ they drafted me. ❛ ( verses: the motion picture )

❛ wonderful stuff that romulan ale. ❛ ( verses: the wrath of khan )

❛ turn death into a fighting chance to live. ❛ ( verses: the search for spock )

❛ what is this– the dark ages? ❛ ( verses: the voyage home )

❛ i doubt any god who inflicts pain for his own pleasure. ❛ ( verses: the final frontier )

❛ are you afraid of the future? ❛ ( verses: the undiscovered country )

❛ admiral mccoy. ❛ ( verses: generations )

[a-destroysworlds]

      can we all agree that monty stole this season from everyone?

[luckyredeyes]

.

[br-kker]

Alright, alright, alright! I'm bored, so I'm gonna write down some Green Lantern Headcannons for my two favorite GLs!

Pairings: Hal Jordan X Reader, Kyle Rayner X Reader (separate, romantic, gender-neutral)

Media: DC Comics.

Content and/or Warnings: Just my random thoughts, language, probably OOC for both Lanterns, too much talk aviation in Hal's part.

H. Jordan - Green Lantern.

This motherfucker will take you down to Ferris Aircrafts and force you to ride shotgun with him.

"HAL PLEASE LAND THE JET!!!"

"Just breathe, (Y/N); the fun hasn't even began yet!"

I'm not even kidding there's a GL comic called "Green Lantern Secret Files & Origins 2005" where Hal and Kyle ride in a jet together and it's awesome.

Anyways, you eventually get used to him dragging you out to nowhere at 10 pm on a Saturday just to fly jets.

He even teaches you how to fly...

...in the smallest jet.

The both of you have watched Top Gun so many times that not only do you know the script off the top of your head, but you might be able to fly a fighter jet.

Moving past aviation, I feel like Hal makes really good blueberry pancakes.

Also, this man is canonically 6'2 (182 centimeters) and 186 pounds (84 kilograms), so expect this exchange:

"(Y/N), there's a bed for a reason."

"You're comfier, shut up." You muffled due to your face being buried in his chest.

Wearing his pilot jacket CONSTANTLY, especially in front of him.

That man will die happy if he saw you in his jacket

"Babe, wanna dance?" Hal asked, before the both of you horribly danced to some crappy 2000s' pop song.

Frequently patching him up.

"Baby, how did this happen?" You say as you clean a cut on his jaw.

"...ran into a stop sign."

He never lived that down.

He comes from a Catholic and Jewish (ayo fellow Jew) family, so expect the blending of religions

Ok, but just imagine you being part of one of the Lantern Corps and teaming up with him on missions.

Honey, you could be part of the Sinestro Corps and you'd both would raise hell together.

Anyways, both of you guys would take the piss out of Batman and The Flash

You guys have gotten whacked upside the head a few times.

Kyle Rayner - Green/White Lantern.

Let me just get it out of the way: This boy draws you almost any chance he can get.

Especially if you're doing something and don't notice him.

I feel like Kyle would also be into photography, so there's about 292737 Polaroids of god damn everything on the wall or in a box.

You, himself, both of you guys, nature, a cute dog he saw, space, a picture of a hot dog. Name anything, he has a picture of it.

Same thing with his art: It's all over the walls.

Oh, and if you just so happen to be artistic in the slightest? Hope you wanted to keep the puppy-of-a-man for the rest of your life.

I truly believe Kyle makes the best tacos on the planet.

Before any of you come at me, no I did not say that because Kyle is canonically half Mexican. I say that because I literally thought of it and I can't get it out of my head.

This guy lives like a college student without being a college student, so he knows how to make food with minimal ingredients.

Karaoke nights, but it's y'all and a few friends getting absolutely hammered and singing 1980s' songs.

"DON'T YOU FORGET ABOUT ME!!!"

"DON'T, DON'T, DON'T, DON'T!!!"

I can't get this out of my head but Kyle would be best friends with Dick Grayson send Tweet.

Getting confused every time he comes home with a different Green Lantern outfit.

I ain't gonna lie to you guys, but I think Kyle would love to be the little spoon

There's this GL comic called "Green Lantern #154" where Kyle beats the actual shit out of these homophobic dudes that almost killed a gay man. Kyle supremacy.

Guys, get "80 Years of the Emerald Knight." It has your Hal and Kyle fix.

(A/N: Who was gonna tell me that Kyle paired up with Jason Todd and Donna Troy?)

[sapphire-dreamsky]

Exception

Starring: Poseidon | Reader

Pairing: Poseidon / Reader

Type: Fluff I think

Warning: Poseidon might be a bit OOC

A/N: this was fun while it lasted 😭 Why Hades?! Why?! I don’t know if I’m going to write for RoR again anytime soon...Man that raw chapter hurt 😭

“I will love you even if you submerge the world to the ground.”

Foolish little human. She was so unbelievably foolish and stupid. What kind of human would say that to a god? Did she not know she was betraying her own kind by admitting so easily with not an ounce of hesitance that she would believe in him even if he could bring forth the destruction of her world with a mere flick of his hand? Was she so far gone, blinded by this supposed ‘love’ that she didn't care anymore for her origins? Or did she say this in hope that he would be merciful towards her? That must surely be the sole reason she would damn her brothers and sisters in favour of siding with him. But where Poseidon would slay any impudent little pest for daring to pretend to have such a blind devotion towards him in the hopes of being spared, he let the comment of the woman slide. It was as if the god didn’t hear her. Was it one of his rare act of mercy or was he so tongue-tied at her declaration that he couldn’t utter a word, instead choosing to walk away? Poseidon would say he was being merciful. It was an easier way to avoid facing the inevitable reality. But there is nothing in this world which betrays gods or men the most than the heart.  

Regardless of all the blaring warning signs that he should have noticed, Poseidon couldn't find it in himself to drive her away. Her eyes shone with a determination and respect that he had never seen before in anyone's eyes despite his eons of seeing the constant rise and fall of mankind. His worshippers never wanted to cross his eyes, all too aware of his wrath. But she never hesitated. It was as if she wasn’t aware of the danger that she constantly put herself in with the open affection she offered him. She always sought out his eyes even as they casted stubbornly downwards. 

"I like your eyes. They are like the sea. An endless depth which protects the most precious jewels from greedy hands."

Ridiculous. She was so utterly ridiculous. Praises flew from her lips so naturally that he didn’t have a reason to doubt her honesty. But when did he ever doubt it? She was always so foolishly honest to him. She was like an open book. She never hides anything from him; always telling him whatever she thought about with no reservations. Poseidon knew how to break her, and oh how tempting it was to shatter her.

But he still held her hand carefully in his, all too aware of the fragility of mankind, as they walked through Atlantis. Her eyes were wide in wonder as they passed by dolphins. She was so easily impressed by anything that it didn’t require much effort from Poseidon to court her. He could do the bare minimum and she would still marvel at everything he showed her. He was sure of it. A bold dolphin nudged her hand for some pats. She giggled as she gave her attention to it, indulging it unlike the king of the sea. 

“Your waters hold some of the most beautiful animals there are on this planet.”

Of course, it did. This was his domain. He accepted nothing but perfection. But Poseidon was a god who stood by his ideals. So, unlike his brother who would have boasted like a peacock at the praise, Poseidon merely resumed their stroll as if unaffected by her words. But against his will, his heart throbbed at the praise. His heart was more honest than his will to follow his constricting ideals. It embarrassingly enough revels at the thought that she loved it here. His ego inflated at the thought of her being proud and amazed by his beloved seas. 

She was so utterly foolish. And yet, as he held her hand in his, the glimmer of a matching ring nestling comfortably on her finger, he might not mind it so much after all. She was a foolish human but not for so long. The ambrosia in the majestic cup shone a beautiful imperial purple. His hand steadily brought the cup to his lips all the whilst never once breaking eye contact with that of his dear foolish human. The divine liquid was never to his liking. Poseidon always thought it was overly sweet and heavy on the tongue. But as he brought her lips to his, nudging her mouth to open to pass the ambrosia to her, he found himself not minding it that much. He could make an exception just for this moment. Just like he made an exception to her.