#I originally was just gonna do regular hell but I thought it would be a funny idea to put him in the jthm hell so yeahh

[letdibtravel]

Put him in hell

Hell, JTHM

[prince-jjae]

heh, so for kinktober or just a regular fic atp. Can u do toxic relationship w/ yeonjun. Like reader and yeonjun are in a situationship and yeonjun says that him and reader can’t have any strings attached if they’re just gonna have sex. But like reader rlly doesn’t care so they just keep having one night stands with random people at the club. And one day, yeonjun catches her and gets jealous and BOOM raw sex. But then angst bc reader says he doesn’t love her so they’re free to hit on whoever they want. So they argue and reader never sees yeonjun again. BUT LIKE IF U DON’T WANNA MAKE THIS ANGST THEN U CAN MAKE IT A HAPPY ENDING :3 heh, my brain is going brr brr rn. Ok ty! 💕

Escapism.

mdni, nsfw!!

pairings: choi yeonjun/reader

genre: smut, angst. hurt/no comfort??

warnings: fwb?yeonjun, meandom!yeonjun, mentions of beomgyu, mentions of club bathroom sex (Dont!), name calling (slut, whore, etc), unprotected sex (Dont! pt2), gender neutral reader but they have feminine anatomy, jealousy, anger, kinda dubcon if you think too hard about it, player!reader, if i forgot any lmk!

jjae's comments: this is.... insane. I sat down to write this thinking itd be like.. 1k? around the same length of my other fics? but no... welcome to 3k words of pure smut and sadness. i made yeonjun a lot more pathetic in this fic than i think the ask originally intended, but i hope it still reads well!! enjoy!

“No strings attached.” he had said. No strings attached. If that's what he wanted, then why was Yeonjun acting this way? He hadn't the faintest idea, but the sight of you dragging a puppy-looking guy to the bathroom with your finger hooked into the front of his jeans made his chest cave in.

He thought this was a good idea, months ago. Back when you were only focused on him with your puppy-crush. Maybe it was the power he held over you back then that convinced him to do this. The strength he had over your every move made his head too foggy with desire to see the fatal error of his ways. Back then you seemed like just a nerdy college student, out of place and quiet. Just his type. He was glad the work of approaching you had been done for him, smirking at the board with your name scrawled next to his. ‘Just how cliche would this get?’ He wondered at the time. It was practically fate. He spent weeks breaking through your cold and bitter exterior, dead-set on tasting the sweet softness that he knew you kept well-hidden. It was the thrill of the chase. The promise of something forbidden, off-limits. Sure, he could give any excuse he wanted, but getting into your bed with you was always his goal. You were a sweet poison, he soon found. You were the sweetest of nectars, yet shockingly deadly. He was in bed with you, his plush lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your heated skin. He drank in the quiet whimper you let out when his teeth scraped at you with the sharp promise of his canines marring your soft skin. 

“No strings attached.” He had whispered to you huskily, and you dumbly nodded along, eager to please so he would keep going. So he would consume you like the fire you knew he was. He said it more for his own sake than yours, he thought. He knew from the first time he had you under him, obscene sounds coming from where your hips collided, mouth spilling rivulets of drool around his fingers which pressed and prodded at your tongue, that he was thoroughly fucked. 

But now, after months of being your.. What was the right word for it? Was this a situationship? Was he your friend-with-benefits? You two had never talked about it. Hell, you hardly did anything more than moan into each other's mouths and skin. Neither of you were next to one another by the time the sunshine graced your apartment windows. He knew better, now. If he was going to continue drinking in your poison by the mouthful, he needed to be careful. Precise, even. 

Yeonjun sighed, watching you go as he swirled the drink in his hand. You didn’t know he was there. You didn’t even see the text he had sent you 2 hours prior on your phone, you were too busy scanning the crowd. He had texted you the second he walked through the doors into the club he knew you frequented. He was perhaps a little desperate to see you, but he would never tell you as much. Hell, it was hard to even admit it to himself. He craved you like he craved air. 

But you didn't care. You didn't even react to the buzzing in your pocket, sharp eyes intent on finding your next victim. This club was your web, and you were a black widow. He hadn’t known it when he stumbled into your trap all those months ago, but you were vicious. You took control of him like a possession, the thrum of your power over him was buzzing under his skin constantly. Your kiss was a brand, ruining him for anyone or anything else. 

The great player, Choi Yeonjun, reduced to a simpering, desperate boy. How far he had fallen in pursuit of you.

He recognized the man you had picked - your victim for the night - as Choi Beomgyu. He was a friend of Yeonjun’s, actually. They bickered a lot, but they got along well enough. He recalls mentioning you to him before.. Had Beomgyu sought you out because of him? The thought made his stomach churn. Jealousy cut through him like a searing hot knife, the jagged edge catching his anger in just the right way. His eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door, sipping away at his drink the entire time you occupied it. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what you were doing in there, but he needed to see it. He needed to know that you were really doing this. 

He had no right to be jealous, he knew that. Rationally, realistically, this was none of his fucking business. He was the one who suggested you two wouldn’t be exclusive. Why should he be upset now that his own words were haunting him. Was it because he never expected to get this attached? Or was it the realisation that you didn’t feel the same? It was obvious that you didn’t care for him the way he cared for you. He could live with that, he thought. He could live with you not loving him back, but seeing you sneak off with someone new right before his very eyes? This was an anger he was unfamiliar with. He was never on the receiving end of this. Perhaps this was karma, finally catching up to him and providing him the pain he usually dished out freely. Perhaps he deserved this.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, makeup smudged and clothes wrinkled, his heart plummeted to the floor. He glanced behind you, watching Beomgyu walk out with a dazed look in his eyes, shirt halfway undone and hair a mess. You loved pulling on his hair when he gave you head, He thought. The memory of him being the one between your thighs finally snapped the cord in him. 

He slammed his drink down onto the table next to him, ignoring the way the other patrons flinched at the loud crack the glass made against the worn wood. He was already halfway across the floor. You didn’t even notice him until he was on you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the club with the shadow of his rage hanging over him like a cloud. He barely registered you tugging at his arm, trying to get him to let you go, trying to ask him what was going on. Your questions fell on deaf ears. He was on a mission as he dragged you to his apartment for the first time, only a few minutes walk away from the club.

He was going to prove he was better. No one else could have you the way he could. 

Yeonjun liked to believe that he was a gentle lover. That he could be mean when it was required or requested of him, but for the most part, he was a giver. Full of plush words and promises that usually held no actual weight. A phrase echoed in his mind at that, something about truth being singular, and lies being words, words, words. In that case, Yeonjun guessed he was a liar of a lover. It tracked, if he really thought about it. Like now, when he had you pressed into the door the second you two were beyond the threshold, kissing you like a man starved. His hands were possessive, gripping onto your flesh wherever he could. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove- actually, scratch that. He did know. He wanted to erase every memory of Beomgyu’s touch, He wanted to burn it away with his own until only his touch remained on your skin. 

You weren't sure where this animalistic side of Yeonjun came from, but you hardly had it in you to complain. You should probably push him away, demand answers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. The knowledge of this made yeonjun grin against your neck before sinking his teeth into the soft junction between the column of your throat and your shoulder, pulling a pleasured scream from your lips. He practically growled against the skin, fingers trailing down to push aside the skimpy shorts you wore. 

“You let him finish inside?” He grit out, fingers sliding easily through your soaked core. The sound of Beomgyu’s cum leaking onto Yeonjun’s hardwood floor should have made you embarrassed, but instead of shame burning through you, only lust remained. You shivered, nodding at Yeonjun like a bobblehead, mind swirling in the wake of his rough handling of you. He just laughed, but the chuckle he released was devoid of humour. He was angry. You let him fill you? Did you let anyone else do the same?

“Dirty fucking thing.” He spat at you before hauling you up, legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, flinging you unceremoniously onto the covers. You were still bouncing on the mattress from the sheer force he used to toss you onto it when he descended on you. He was all tongue, teeth and rage as he practically tore your clothes off of you. He hardly gave you any space to breathe, let alone think. Your mind was a useless puddle of mush as he manhandled you, adjusting your body the way he wanted. By the time you could gather the mental presence it took to move your eyes downward, His breath was already fanning hotly at your still-sore cunt. Your eyes widened comically, but he only laughed at you before diving in and eating you with the crazed frenzy of a man who had never eaten before in his life. He had to clean you, had to rid you of any evidence of his friend. You had to become pure again, only for him to defile you himself, make you his the way you had made him yours. He had to show you, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Surely, you'd understand, right? You understood him. He was sure of it.

Your hands instantly tangled in his silky locks, tugging harshly enough to pull a hiss from his lips the second his tongue made contact. You squealed, body still sensitive from your previous orgasm with Beomgyu, but Yeonjun didn’t care. He wasn't doing this for pleasure, he was doing this to make a point. To make you his. He ate you with fervor, a mix of your arousal, Beomgyu’s release and Yeonjun’s drool making his face a fucking sopping mess. It dripped onto the sheets below, but he paid it no mind, allowing you to rock your hips desperately on his tongue and nose as he worked you up again. You were sobbing, fat tears streaming down your face and clumping your pretty lashes together. All he could think about while you bumped your swollen clit against his nose was how badly he wanted to ruin you once he was done. Your wails and pleas fell on deaf ears. He had no plans on slowing down, giving you any breaks. You had teased him enough, he thought, parading around with Beomgyu’s cum still stuffed inside you. He was intent on replacing it with his own. When you finally came, sobbing out his name into the silent, cold air of his apartment, you collapsed, boneless onto the sheets. Your hand clasped at your naked chest, sweat cooling your skin as you scrambled to catch your breath. You couldn't remember a single time when Yeonjun behaved like this, did things like this, ate you like this. Sure, he loved having you on his tongue, but he was always so sweet, drawing out every little hum and movement out for your pleasure. This shift in his demeanour left you confused, for sure, but you found it so hot that you couldn't stop to ask any questions. Your eyes flew open again, desperately clawing at his arms when he shifted your body again. He lifted you with ease, flipping you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing. 

“Can't- jjunnie, please!” You cried, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he shoved your face into. He just sneered down at you, dragging his drooling cock through your soaked folds. He had no mercy for you, not anymore. He leaned down, smirking at the way your breath stuttered when the head of his cock caught your entrance. The feeling of his hot breath on your skin paled in comparison to the mean words he spat into your ear. 

“You’ll fucking take what I give you, slut.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel any shame at his words. In fact, you revelled in them, pushing your hips back against him. It caught him by surprise, and you were so wet that he sunk into you with ease with that simple movement alone. A punched out groan fell from his pouty lips, one of his hands gripping your hip in a bruising hold. You were sure his fingertips would leave bruises for you to press on by tomorrow morning. 

“God- You’re so fucking desperate, arent you? Just got your pussy stuffed with cum and you're already begging for more?” He laughed, the sound mean and cruel in your ears as he set a brutal pace. You were so slick that the sounds that reverberated in yeonjuns bedroom was fucking obscene. You felt filthy, dirty, used- and you loved it. You weren’t sure how, but Yeonjun could tell. You knew he could. Maybe it was the way your walls fluttered helplessly around his fat cock, spearing into you with no mercy that gave you away. It didn’t matter, though. You hardly had the mental presence to care about anything beyond the way he stretched you out so so well. “Look at you, fucking pathetic. So eager for dick. Do I not give you enough? Huh? Do I need to stuff you full every hour of the day for you to be satiated?” 

All you could do was claw at his sheets, nodding pathetically along to his words. He scoffed, reaching up to grab your chin and forcing your mouth open. “Speak, whore.” 

You scrambled for words, but the syllables fell through your fingers like grains of sand. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, reminiscent of a fish out of water, before you finally managed out something akin to verbal language.

“Need- please- more- jjunnie-!” Your voice quickly dissolved into a chorus of pornographic ah, ah, ah-’s, and it sent a thrill through Yeonjun’s body. He was doing this to you. In this moment, right here in his bedroom, you were his. He shoved his fingers into your still open mouth, keeping your head thrown back as his hips ploughed into your sopping heat from behind. His thrusts were so intense they were punishing, sure to leave you sore and wobbly on your feet for days. Thinking about you stumbling around, needing his help to walk only made him growl and fuck you harder. He was far too drunk on you, on your moans, on your pussy. He couldn’t help himself.

“Need-? Getting fucked so good you cant speak, huh? Don’t worry, baby.” He grinned, but the smile was sharp and cheshire. It held no warmth for you, not that you could care or open your eyes long enough to even see it. You could feel it in his words, though, in the way he nibbled at your earlobe before shoving you down into the pillows again. “Daddy’s got you.”

He was entirely right, really. You were fucked positively stupid on his dick. You couldn’t deny that. In fact, you wouldn't. “Daddy-” you whined, voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of Yeonjun’s cock sinking into you and his hips snapping against the plush of your ass. “‘s fucking good- fuck!”

Yeonjun let out a breathless laugh before he pulled out of you. You hardly had time to whine at the loss, the aching empty feeling he left you with, before you were being moved again. Now you were on your back, and before you could even get your vision to focus on him, Yeonjun was already balls-deep in you again. With your head thrown back in bliss, throat bared for him, he couldn’t help but sneak down and leave angry, splotchy hickeys along your soft skin. 

“That’s right, baby- fuck… take it. Take it. Gonna fill you up better than he did- fuck!” His hips were beginning to stutter, but his mouth kept running. He was dissolving into horny babble, but he had the presence of mind to sneak his hand down, fingers drawing rough circles on your clit that had you spasming underneath him. 

He had slept with you enough times to know your tells, to know when you were going to finish. The way your head fell back, eyebrows drawn up, pretty lips making that pretty ‘o’ shape- the way you fluttered around him wildly, trying to milk him dry- you were close. He knew it. Just a few more thrusts, a slight change in angle and-

God, you were so beautiful when he had you like this, crying his name again, nails clawing uselessly against his back and leaving angry marks that he loved. 

“That’s it, baby- shit. Take it, slut. Fucking take it-!” He gripped your hips firmly in both hands, using them to move you on him. It made his thrusts hit deeper, and- God, were you squirting? If anything, the revelation only made him rougher with you despite your protests that you couldn’t take it, that you needed him to slow down. He wouldn’t, though. You knew he wouldn't. He only grabbed you harder, cock slamming into your cervix in a way that made you wince before he finally filled you, pressed as deeply into you as he could manage. He pressed into you over and over, as if trying to force his seed even deeper into you. As if he could fuck it right into your little womb. 

After a few more mean thrusts, you began to squirm and whine in his grip. Only then did he snap out of his jealousy-filled rage, looking into your eyes with his own so wide and pretty. There he was, that was closer to the Yeonjun you remembered. You smiled lazily at him, lifting your arms to him. With no prompting, he fell into your embrace. He peppered kisses along any skin he could reach, sighing happily into your skin when your fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. You chuckled, but made no move to push him away. That was all he needed for hope to bloom in his chest again. You understood him, right? You knew what he was trying to do, what he needed. He needed you. He needed you more than air. He looked at you expectantly, hoping that you would say what he did not have the courage to. 

But you didn’t say anything. 

You didn’t say anything when he cleaned you up. You didn’t say anything when he carefully brought you to the bath he drew for you. You didn't say anything when he gently scrubbed your body. You didn’t say anything when he helped you back into your clothes. 

You only opened your mouth to deny him when he suggested you sleep over. He didn’t know his heart could shatter so easily with just a few words. He supposed he had this coming. Yes, he was right, earlier. This was karma for all his previous misdeeds. You were karma, and you were cruel.

“No strings attached, remember?”

[thesmollestsnek]

Death echoes

So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.

Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.

So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD

Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 

~~~~~~~

“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”

“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”

“Kid...”

“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”

Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”

He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”

A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”

Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”

“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 

“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”

A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.

~~~~~

I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’

[mediumgayitalian]

“Death Breath! Hey! Wait up!”

Nico bolts. He makes it about ten feet away from his cabin door before Will and his stupid long legs catch up with him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and then immediately tripping over his own foot and sending them both sprawling.

“I hate you,” Nico groans, curling up on the grass.

It’s too early for any of this. He was just trying to get back at Cecil for covering everything he owned in aluminum foil last week — and then he was going to go right the hell back to bed.

He knew he should have fucking shadow travelled.

“Aw, c’mon. You love me.”

Nico pretends to gag. The only thing he gets is Will’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow, so he doubles down and really starts to retch. Whatever. It’s eight thirty in the morning. He fell asleep at five. Rational thinking is a distant, distant memory.

“Whenever you’re done.”

“I will be sick at the thought for the next eight weeks,” Nico informs him. For dramatic effect, he looks up at Will’s face — which he cant even see, since the sun’s in his eyes — and shudders.

“You know, you have a genuine, beautiful talent for the dramatic arts, the likes of which I have never seen. Are you sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

I better not be, ‘cause then all the staring I do at your calves would be real weird, he thinks to himself, then considers whether he can convince Kayla to give him a lobotomy. He thinks she might like the opportunity.

“Piss off,” he says instead of that, artfully schooling his face into the aristocratic mask he’s perfected from his father, squaring his shoulders and looking at Will like he’s a pebble lodged in the flesh of his heel.

Will rolls his eyes. “Get up, Sharpay Evans. You’re gonna stain your shirt worse than you already have.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “My shirt is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I order them in black for a reason.”

He notices a giant grass stain on the side when he stands. He ignores it. Will does not.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the Goth King.”

“Ghost King.”

“Right, right. That helps your case.”

Nico shoves him, fighting back a grin. “Whatever, Solace. What are you bothering me for?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Nico is a deeply cheesy person. Down to the core of him, past all the sarcasm and prickliness and trauma, or whatever, he’s made of fucking mozzarella, because what business does he have comparing Will’s eyes to the morning winter sky? Huh? That’s embarrassing. It isn’t even original. If Nico caught anyone saying shit like that out loud in real life, he’s collapse into the shadows from embarrassment. He needs electroshock therapy.

“I was thinking —”

“Rare,” Nico quips, just to watch Will’s eyebrow twitch. It does. Nico smiles.

“I was thinking,” he repeats, mocking glare in Nico’s direction, “that you and me go to the city this afternoon.”

“You chased me across camp for that?”

“Oh, please, Zombie Face. I chased you maybe twenty yards.”

“I think all that time sniffing rubbing alcohol has deteriorated your brain.”

“I think I’m going to shove you in the lake.”

“Feel free to try. You will not wake up the next morning.”

“Nah.” Will shoots him a smug smile. Nico trips over air. “I can be as annoying as I want and you still won’t kill me. I have impunity.”

Nico rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with an answer. The less he acknowledges his own shame, the more likely it will go away on its own. Probably.

“Anyways. Guess what Cecil told me today.”

“His last will and testament?” Nico guesses, suddenly remembering his reason for being up this early.

“No, no, not that.” Will pauses. “Well, I mean, he did. I passed it on to Chiron. He has requested that when you maul him, you avoid his face, because he wants to be a sexy corpse and he can’t do that if you destroy his prettiest features.”

“Noted. Please inform him I will come for him within a window of the next fifteen hours.”

Theres a very particular face Will makes when he finds something genuinely funny. A smile a little more crooked than his regular one, teeth working at his bottom lip to hold it back, left dimple appearing in his cheek. It makes Nico want to do stupid things like press his thumb into said divot. He instead shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.

“I’ll let him know.” He clears his throat. “Anyways. You know what day it is today?”

Nico squints. “Tues…day? No, Wednesday.” He glances at Will. It’s been maybe….three days since their weekly sleepover? No, fuck, four. He thinks. “Thursday. Final answer.”

“Monday,” Will corrects, “and, gods, you need to sleep more. And a calendar. But no, that’s not my point.”

“Feel free to get to it.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Will finally explains. He tries for exasperated, but it doesn’t work — he’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving his hands. “And The Five Seasons is doing half off for couples, so you and I need to go!”

He waves his hands, as if tying off some grand reveal. His (blue blue blue blue) eyes are squeezed nearly shut by the force of his beam, which lessons slightly with every second Nico does not respond.

“William,” he says finally. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “William.”

Will pouts. “What?”

“Explain how this is relevant to me, William.”

“Aw, c’mon, Nico! Don’t be difficult!”

“William,” stresses Nico again. “We are not a couple. Did you hit your head again?”

“Well, duh, Neeks, it’s about the scam!” He flaps his hand in a way Nico assumes is meant to convey something. “We’re gonna — eat! Cheap! By pretending to be a couple!” Now both hands are flopping, paired with wide, imploring eyes. “Obviously!”

“Obviously,” Nico repeats, slowly. He instructs one half of his brain to keep its focus on not melting into a puddle of blushing embarrassed goo, and the other to exercise restraint and not strangle the boy in front of him. A headache begins to press behind his eyes. “Will, what the shit.”

“You of all people!” Will throws his hands up. “You love scamming people! You hate corporate holidays! You frequently throw pebbles at people who look, and I quote, too obnoxiously happy! You’re the best hater I know! You should be on board!”

He makes a compelling point. Not that Nico is going to make that easy for him.

“You seem very invested in this,” Nico points out. He manages to keep his voice tastefully judgmental, which he’s very proud of.

“Of course I am! I want cheap Five Seasons food, godsdammit!” He pauses, switching tactics. “Nico,” he says softly. He puts a gently hand on Nico’s forearm, making him freeze. He is suddenly very, very close, and wow, did his hair always frame his face in gentle waves? Has that always been a thing? “I really, really want to scam a restaurant with you.” He smiles, small and crooked and gods, Will doesn’t look dangerous very often, but holy Hades when he does — “Will you make my Valentines, and scam a restaurant with me?”

His fingers begin to trace little circles in the inside of Nico’s wrist.

“Yes,” he squeaks, voice cracking.

“Yes!” Will cheers, pulling his fist. “Yes, hell yes, Nico! We are going to scam the shit out of this restaurant! Half off for couples? How about half off for heathens! Free money, baby! Fuck yeah!”

He turns back towards Nico, smile still wide and radiant, blinking eyes pools of sparkling excitement. Nico’s knees go a little weak. “I’ll come get you at 2! Thank you, Neeks!”

He runs off back to his cabin, only tripping twice. Nico watches him go, feeling a little like he’s tripping, too, with all the swooping his stomach is doing.

“Dude,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Be normal. Christo.”

It takes him ten straight minutes to get back to his cabin, even though he’s standing at the porch.

———

The obsidian handle of the Hades’ cabin door rattles.

“Neeks!” calls a voice behind the door, “you ready to go?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Nico scrambles over to the mirror and stares at himself. He turns a little to the left. He scowls. “Shit!” Tugging the shirt off, he turns back to his closet, tossing the piece of clothing to join the rest of its brethren on the floor. “Shitfuck. Fuckshit. Shit.”

“Nico!”

“Coming!”

Tapping his foot rapidly, he looks harder, as if that will magically make the right shirt pop into existence, perfectly pressed, on a hanger. “Shit.”

“What could possibly be taking so long? You’ve had two hours!”

“I care about my appearance, Mr Flip Flops and Scrubs!”

“Bleh bleh! Hurry up!”

Nico bites his lip. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t, really. Five Seasons is not actually a fancy restaurant. He and Will just like to joke that it is, because it has tablecloths. They’ve gone there dozens of times before; they stop every time they’re in the city for supply runs or visits to Olympus or to harass their summer-only friends at school. There is literally no reason for Nico to be stressing about what stupid shirt he should wear. Gods know Will is wearing cargo shorts.

“Nico!”

“I’m coming!“

Scowling, he digs through the pile of discarded clothes until he finds the first shirt he’d put on — a dark green button up that was given to him, along with a bunch of other fancy clothes he never wears, by the Aphrodite cabin. He hastily shoves their buttons through their holes, cursing when he mixes them up and has to start over, and sprints over to the mirror to inspect himself.

The shirt looks good. It’s a little tight on the arms, which he suspects was on purpose, and the colour compliments his skin nicely. The buttons are a dark, shiny brown that match his eyes. They pair nice with his simple jeans and black vans, casual enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to Prom, or anything stupid like that, but dressy enough that it looks like he put effort in. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make the staticky strands sit right, but gives up pretty quickly. It’s okay if one thing is a little messy, right?

“Finally,” huffs Will as the door swings open. He glances Nico up and down, then grins. “You look great.”

Nico was right. He is indeed wearing cargo shorts, although to his credit they are his one pair without various Head Medic stains. His sweater, too, is a pretty blue, V-necked, long-sleeved, and a completely different style than his shorts. It clashes horribly. His shoes are, for some reason, bright solid pink. Nico suspects Hecate magic. His hair is braided in two French braids, his favourite way to wear it. Nico believes he is also wearing a touch of sparkly eyeshadow.

“You look dorky.”

Will grins wider. “Thank you! I wouldn’t let anyone help me choose something.”

“You should have.”

“I wanted it to be authentic, Nico. Also, got something for you.” From behind his back, he pulls out a handful of daisies, black dirt clinging to their roots, like he plucked them straight from the ground. Nico is inexplicably endeared by the image, and prays the smile on his face is less soft than he knows it is.

“You got me flowers?”

“Well, duh, Avril Lavigne. We gotta sell the scam.”

Nico brings them close to his face and inhales deeply. They smell fresh and earthy and sweet.

“That’s a stupid reason to bring someone flowers.”

“Give them back, then.”

“No. Fuck off. They’re mine.”

Will’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.” He holds out his arm. “Ready to go?”

The jump is close enough that Nico can convince him to shadow travel, and not just because he sadistically looks forward to the shade of green Will’s face will get after. As dangerous as he knows it can be, he misses it, sometimes. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing and familiar. Shadow travelling to the restaurant eases any lingering nerves.

“If you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere I can’t hear you,” he says as they materialize in an alley.

Will’s cheeks puff out. “I’m gonna do it on your fuckin’ shoes.”

“I will leave your ass here, Solace, I swear to the gods.” Despite his grumbling, he rests a cool hand on the back of Will’s neck until he’s recovered. “Good?”

“Yeah.” He straightens, dusting off his sweater. “Let’s go.”

Nico follows him down the alley and onto the street, elbowing past the crowd of pedestrians until they approach the familiar glass doors. He rolls his eyes fondly every time Will apologizes to someone.

“You need to be meaner.”

Will sticks his tongue out and tries to trip him. Unfortunately, he only manages to throw himself off balance, nearly crashing to the floor of Nico hadn’t caught him.

“Good gods, Solace.”

“That was your fault!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The doors of the restaurant are absolutely plastered in cheesy red hearts and bows and cartoon kisses. And, as promised, a giant sign promising couples a fifty percent discount on their meals.

“My love,” says Will dramatically, holding out a hand, “shall we?”

Nico sighs, resting his hand delicately in Will’s. It sparks with electricity, like it always does. “I suppose.”

“Party pooper.”

“I’m not hearing oh, Nico, thank you so much for doing this incredibly stupid thing with me, you are my dearest friend and I owe you one. Or three, for some reason.”

Will’s mouth twitches. “Oh, Nico, thank you so much for —”

Nico shoves him, laughing. “Shut up.”

They’re seated pretty quickly, server smiling when they take notice of their clasped hands. Will orders chicken tenders, like he does every single time without fail, and water. Nico orders from the adult menu and absolutely does not make any kind of show about it.

“There is nothing babyish about chicken tendies.”

“Oh, of course not.”

“Is this about you having a credit card? That does not make you more adult than me. It makes you a nepo baby.”

“Mhm. Sure thing.”

“Nobody likes a nepo baby, Nico.”

“Look, I think your drink comes with a complimentary sippy cup.”

Teasing and joking with Will is so easy that Nico forgets the core of their mission. The pink garlands hanging from the ceiling fade into the background — he’s too busy crying with laughter when Will nearly chokes to death on a french fry, too busy flicking a forkful of food at his shoulder just to make him shriek, too busy kicking his shin under the table. He catches Nico’s foot between his the fourth time he tries it, keeping it trapped for the rest of the meal. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“And your bill,” says their server when they’re done, setting down a slip of paper. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but do you two qualify for today’s discount?”

Will smirks widely. “We do,” he says, with no small amount of pleasure. He shoots Nico the least subtle wink of all time. Nico rolls his eyes, cheeks going a little pink.

“Great! You guys have a wonderful Valentine’s day.”

“You, too.”

The server hurries away, turning to their other tables. Will’s smile is wide and smug.

“I knew it would work.”

“Duh. Easiest scam in the world, Solace.”

He sticks his tongue out. “And thus the best payout. You’re welcome.”

“Blah, blah. Gimme the bill.”

“Um, no way, di Angelo. I’m paying.”

He opens his wallet before Nico can stop him, mouthing as he counts the bills.

“What? No! I’m paying.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!”

“Are not.” He sets down a couple twenties. Nico snatches them right back up. “You we’re just complaining about my credit card!”

“Exactly. Thus my need to continue to pretend you don’t have one, so we can continue our friendship.”

“Solace, I swear to the gods.”

“di Angelo, I swear to the gods.”

Nico stares him down. Will stares back. He doesn’t even try to hide his lazy grin, his laughing eyes.

“You’re not paying for this by yourself,” Nico says firmly. “You don’t have a job. My father invented being rich.”

“Sure, but I made you come with me.”

“Ugh!” Nico throws his hands up, imagining how satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around that long neck (followed by his teeth and his tongue and his —). “Why are you impossible? I would’ve gone with you no matter what, stupid!”

As soon as he says it he wants to stick his head in wet cement. For a brief second, something like surprise flits across Will’s face, before he schools it back into his teasing smirk.

“Well, obviously, Death Breath. I’m excellent company.”

“You’re literally the most annoying person I know.”

“And yet here you are, hanging out with me, of your own volition.”

“…I’m paying next time.”

Will grins. “Whatever you say.”

They walk around the city for a while before heading back to camp. Will says it’s because he needs the air, Nico knows it’s because he wants him to rest a little longer before trying to shadow travel again. He tries not to let himself get all melty inside.

(Nobody willingly hangs out around the city for the ‘air’. He’s a shit liar. Nico should be offended.)

It’s nearing curfew by the time they melt back out from behind Thalia’s tree, extra shadows of early evening making the trip easier.

“Those fries are going to make a reappearance,” Will grimaces.

“Not if you don’t want me to kick you in the face.”

“You’d never.”

He would indeed never. But he would rather pass away than admit it, so.

“C’mon, dot face. It’s getting late. You have a cabin to run.”

“Oh, Nico,” Will says in a breathy falsetto, “are you walkin’ me to my cabin? How chivalrous!”

“Nevermind.”

“No no no no no I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nico allows himself to be tugged, weak to Will’s giggles. “Walk me to my cabin. C’mon.”

Sighing, as if he’s so put out, Nico does. Some point in between Thalia’s tree and the amphitheater, Will’s hand slides down from around his wrist to tangled in between his fingers. Coincidentally, his mouth goes dry.

As they approach the Apollo cabin, Will slows to a stop.

“Hey.” He squeezes their fingers together, smile soft in the dying light of dawn. “I had fun today. Thank you for coming with me.”

Nico swallows. One day, those words will be said in a different context, if everything goes well for Nico, and he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to handle it without bursting into flame. “Yeah, well. Anything to scam a restaurant.”

“Right.”

They walk the last few steps to the cabin, rickety porch steps creaking under their feet as they approach the open door. Will doesn’t let go.

“Hey, Nico.”

“…Yeah?”

Quick as a flash, Will leans in and presses the softest of kisses to his mouth. The noise Nico makes is practically punched out of his lungs, spine going rigid in surprise.

“You can pay for our next date, okay?”

He’s gone before Nico can respond, ducking into his cabin with a small smile and closing the door behind him. Nico stands there, like an idiot, for three solid minutes at the very least, distantly aware of the giggles coming through the open window.

His hand comes up, fingers brushing his bottom lip.

“The little fucker set me up.”

Valentine’s day scam. Please. The only scam today was the scam of Will’s sneaky asking.

Nico smiles.

“You’re a mess, Solace!” he shouts, knowing damn well Will is listening.

He’s right. “Goodnight, Nico!”

Shaking his head, Nico runs back to his cabin, entire body tingling and cheeks aching with his grin.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Okay, the person who sent the vampire ask awakened something in me, because all my faves from HOTD fit at least one trope of vampire romance/erotica.

We've already established pretty boy Aegon (as usual, love that for him).

I totally agree that Aemond fits in the vampire role (I mean, look at his aesthetic. Boy's right at home there), where he's smitten with a human and refuses to acknowledge that he was basically stalking them at the beginning, until said human calls him out and shows no fear of him, they're just pissed off. And that does it, he's down even worse than he already was.

I feel Daemon and Rhaenyra would also fit vampire roles, with Daemon being the one who turned Rhaenyra, and she took to being a vampire like a fish to water. I think they'd be the type that has several "partners" they feed from, on a somewhat regular basis, but they also enjoy "hunting" every now and again, Daemon especially. They don't kill anyone, but they do enjoy the fear they can feel from the person they're feeding from.

Then One human shows up that seems immune to both Daemon's charms, and threaths, and Rhaenyra is living for it, she's having the time of her life watching him being flustered. And that's how they end up with a regular partner, not just in the feeding sense.

And of course, our boy Jace. I just feel like he would be such a good fit for an ingenue kinda trope? Noble birth, slightly sheltered, intelligent as hell, maybe too curious for his own good. He stumbles upon a vampire feeding on someone, nearly killing them, and ends up conflicted when he finds out the person was a reprehensible sort of criminal (like, heavy shit, type of criminal). And he keeps seeking the vampire out, even after being turned away because he's a stranger at that point, they don't trust him.

But he's relentless, and gets himself into trouble, and the vampire saves him, and he's head over heels for them.

TRULY INCREDIBLE THOUGHTS HERE OH MY GOD?? Anon I love you.

I'm gonna write a little bit about each of these ideas and then we can go from there! All ideas in this AU will be tagged with 'supranational!au' so block that if you don't want to see this or search it to see everything thus far :))

-------------------------------

AEGON:

Okay I know this anon didnt even mention much about him but I must briefly discuss pretty boy Aegon!!! Pretty boy Aegon who just absolutely ADORES the vampire who fucked his brains out that one time and now he's obsessed.

Everyone else thinks you're absolutely terrifying, and for good reason, but does Aegon care? No absolutely not. In fact, he gets rid of his personal kings guard and just has you instead. The kings guard can patrol the keep and stand watch outside his quarters but none of them even get close to him anymore because he's got a vampire behind him at all times.

And just one more quick thing about Aegon: originally you don't intend to only drink from Aegon because you don't want to put that much pressure on him and risk harming him. Aegon, however, is very possessive and will be very unhappy if you feed from another.

AEMOND:

Absolutely love the idea that Aemond essentially stalked someone for a solid two weeks without even knowing. Even better if you actually knew he was following you. He's not exactly subtle about it, especially because if he's standing behind you then anyone in front of you will look utterly terrified.

The way that you interact with him without fear just gets him completely hooked and yeah you just have a vampire following you around now.

Also, I kinda love the idea that Aemond actually doesn't seem capable of being the same level dangerous and skilled when he's around you? It's like he gets your scent or your attention or lord help him your blood and he just... brain off. No more Aemond.

DAEMON AND RHAENYRA:

Okay I LOVE this idea and I can't believe I never considered this concept with them. I definitely agree Daemon would have changed Rhaenya and then hunt together regularly. They're absolutely a couple that would love to fuck whoever they're feeding from at the same time.

I think Rhaenyra would be interested in you first. She'd sport you and have a conversation with you and discover that he really likes talking to you (and complaining about every single member of her small council because of course). You only meet Daemon about a week later, maybe when Rhaenyra invites you to dinner with them. Of course she had told Daemon all about you, and Daemon was certainly excited thinking they'd get a good feed and bed partner out of this.

To Daemon's dismay and Rhaenyra's delight, you don't even react to any of Daemon's attempts at flirting and seduction. You just listen to him and smile, but don't seem flustered at all.

Originally Rhaenyra had hoped to bed you with Daemon that night, but now that she's watching how worked up Daemon is becoming and how good you are at handling him? Well she's more than happy to have a front row seat to your interactions with Daemon.

For the next 3 weeks Daemon is adamant that they will never bring you into their bed, not for sex or for a feed or for both. Rhaenyra just nods and smiles to herself becasue she knows with absolute certainty that you absolutely will end up in bed with them. If Daemon truly didnt want to fuck you then he wouldnt still be talking about you weeks later.

The very first sexual thing to happen is you and Rhaenyra fucking while Daemon can only watch. He had finally made one too many ridiculous comments and so you put him in his place.

And so, Rhaenyra gets to sleep with you and drink from you while all her husband may do is watched. Eventually when you're satisfied with Daemon's punishment, you allow him to come join you two in bed. He ends up drinking from you while Rhaenyra strokes him.

The last thing he says before he falls asleep is to mumble, "We are never letting you out of this bed"

JACAERYS:

Absolutely love the thought of Jace just sort of stumping into a vampire. Maybe he was in a dodgy part of town? Like maybe he had been dragged out by Aegon but then Aegon abandoned him and now he has no idea where he is. It's while he's wandering around trying to find his way that he finds you.

You're feeding when he sees you, and as much as you want to just ignore him, he's far too pretty and far too scared for that. I think he'd run away at first, and you cant figure out why you did this, but you run after him. And it's damn good that you did becasue you find him being cornered by some people who clearly want to mug him.

Needless to say none of them made it to first light. Once they've all been dealt with, you look at Jace and he is just in awe. You escort him back to the red keep and think that's that.

Except no of course it's not Jace is desperate to find you again, and so maybe... maybe he goes back to that very dodgy area, just wandering around on his own and trying to spot you.

[gortashs-skidmark]

Tieflings DnD - variations for the fanfic writers and artists!! -

There’s a lot about tieflings on the internet. THESE ARE CANON, except for one thought i put in.

If you’re gonna do BG3 fanfics about Tieflings, please please please consider adding some spice with origin lore and CANON facts about their race :) it would be SO fun!

Pls I need more zevlor fanfic too.

PLS READ: I don’t believe in censorship or ignoring the subject of people who are oppressed, but be mindful of how you write and use oppression of dnd races on your tav pls.

- Orange; Canon Historical Events, Abilities, Bodily Facts, and Bloodlines. It means i think you should look into it.

Pink: I think it's cute. Red; Warning, Comment Purple; Headcanon (only one of them)

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- Tieflings are prone to bad luck, because of the Curse of Aasimar.

- Planar Proverb “don’t ever make a bet with a Tiefling” hey I already made one with Lakrissa.

- They’re arcanally gifted, most of them. Zariel Tieflings are much better melee fighters.

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- Tielfling Blood; is tainted from the hells so they could have human parents. Be descendants of demon, devils, evil deities, night hags, and succubus!

- i know y’all love aphrodisiac fanfics, succubus spittle is exactly what you need dawg. Someone make me a fanfic including succubus heritage.

- along with that, Tieflings are unable to breed with anyone except humans or other Tieflings. Literally. They can be Tiefling or human.

- Usually there is some tell to if they’re Zariel, Asmodeus, Mephistopheles by birth mark, or traits like cat eyes, or night hags bloodlines have red eyes without pupils or scelaras

EDIT: I thought the flaming pupils were cat-like slit eyes in the game, but Karlach does indeed have regular slits!

- Tieflings can be male, female, or without gender. It is a canon fact. A win for my gender struggling homies.

- They can have green, blue, purple, pink, yellow, red skin tones. With dark hair colors only like black, purple, dark red and blue. I don’t care for this, genes be gene-ing so have any color you want.

Mephestopheles is recorded as to having blue skin, pale blue whites and red eyes, soot black scales, with large wings in the 2nd Manual. BUT in a 3e version he is described having red skin, bat wings, being 9ft, with white eyes, and slick black hair. Both of these are present in Mephestophic Bloodlines in BG3. Raphael is the son, though cambion, is red.

Asmodeus rules the Nine Hells. Mephestopheles being his archduke, only rules the 8th layer. Asmodeus has a humanoid, and a scale-fiend version of himself. He's red, slim, 13ft tall, horned, vibrant red eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard. He is Lawful-Evil.

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The Blood War (where Karlach escaped) is described as a "philosophical war" and which kind of evil would rule. Asmodeus plays a part but didn't start it, it's rooted in ancient Hell conflicts. Asmodeus claimed it was a senselessly bloody conflict from a militia standpoint. He really hates it, he's not a fan of it. INFERNAL POLITICS ARE FUCKING COMPLICATED. look into it :)

Zevlor was a Hellrider or Rider of Elturel! a Cavalry unit for Elturel during the 14th and 15th century. They ride horseback, and use spears and bows. They're well reguarded!! Zevlor should have more pride in himself for his service, being a refugee isn't his fault, or The Descent.

In the late 1400's striving for Paladin Knighthood in the Order of Companion was a rank of Hell rider. Before and after the year 1494, you could be a Paladin and join freely.

The Order of Companions was an Elturel, of Western Heartland, theocratic realm of Paladin Knighthood. It's just a region of Paladins that are highly reguarded. They typically worship Tyr, Torm, Helm, and Aumanator.

They kept order in the high capital of Elturel, preserving local civilization from outer destruction. They're super Lawful Good.

Typically an Oath of Devotion or an Oath of the Crown.

"For a City Guard, they outmatched the armies of the Whole Realm" - Forgotten Wiki Realms

They guard general land, they aren't really police, and can escort as far as Waterdeep if privileged to. It is a job they hold for life. I FUYCKING LOVE HELLRIDERS.

Shortly after Elturel’s descent into Avernus, the Tieflings were blamed for the fall, and expelled from the city entirely. Zevlor and any tiefling hellrider’s title has been stripped from them. Any hellrider’s were arrested at The Gate. And the reputation of tieflings sunk even lower.

Badlurian’s are Elturian’s rivals but Duke Ravenguard was tricked into coming to Elturel for politics and ended up helping and sending in troops to help fight. He’s extra important! I might find Wyll, all though lovely, useless, his father is very brave and noble and amazing for what he does.

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- Tieflings can have feathers! Although rare. They can have fur, scales, or be bald like humans. They can be any variation of sorts!

- A more common portrayal of tieflings, is having solid colored eyes, whites and irises the same color. They can be black, red, silver, gold, or white.

- Tieflings are technically minorities and don’t live in the highest neighborhoods. It gives them an even worse reputation.

- Most of the Tieflings with famous status, also give bad reps. Climbing their way to the top in corruption.

- When Tieflings get nervous, experience anxiety, or are upset. They’re known to wrap their tails around their leg!! Super telling.

- They can use their tail like a monkey, very dexterous about it. It’s about 5-6ft long.

- Their ages, weight, height. All similar to humans. Idk how logical that is with 5 extra feet of meat behind them. Sometimes they can live longer, to about 120-150 years old.

- Tieflings can look just like humans. Though they can have their hellish features, those with strong hellish features are often killed at birth out of disgust.

- They can also have legs of a goat, tail akin to a horse or a lizard.

- Tieflings can be really good at thieving, hiding, and deceit.

- their diet consists of meat, marrow, gristle, fat, and bones. They’re highly carnivorous. They even eat roasted insects.

- Many worship Besheba, the goddess of bad luck, finding similarities in them and their goddess.

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- Tieflings are as sensitive as humans, same hearing. They usually have dark vision. And their body temperatures can be colder or warmer than humans depending on their type of tainted blood. --Mephistopheles blood lines are from the frozen layer of hell, maybe their blood is colder.

- They don’t purr, sorry girlies. They’re closer to humans than Tabaxis or Driders.

- Tieflings don’t regrow horns unless they’re still young, though they do tend to file them down.

- They have a natural unsettling aura about them. Even if their heritage is unknown to others, it makes people uncomfortable. They also can smell of sulphur.

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- There are so many Tieflings bloodlines. I love the Babau Tieflings bc they’re already known as uncanny creatures-- Babau Tieflings are gaunt and skinny, darker skin, and a small horn coming from the back of their head.

- Marilith Tieflings are known to be seductive- more than they already are, and have dark hair. They have snake-like half-bodies and have grey tongues.

- Succubus Tieflings! They’re like the ones you see in bg3, often have a small set of wings.

- Tieflings can have so many fucking variations it makes me dizzy.

- Tieflings can have bat-like wing shaped ears, that perk up and shit. I know yall think about ear movements. <zevlor has this>

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Edit: Ya'll loved this :) I can do another on Tiefling politics if ya'll want. Or more bloodlines and fun facts if you want.

I have built another list of Canon facts about Driders and Kar'niss Headcanons if you monster fuckers are interested!!

Currently in the works; He Who Was Headcanons and Shadar'Kai canon facts and events.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

[agustdiv1ne]

so... ORIGINALLY i was thinking about perv!lifeguard!swim teacher!beomgyu cause of that one thing w soobin a while back, but then i decided I want to write that so you get:

(my mind actually went blank here so i looked at txt wet hair pics for inspo) (and then used my life as inspo too) (so if you don't mind...) (YES IM MANIFESTING THIS IRL W POOL BOY (yes ik his real name sjbdj) BUT WTV 🙏)

perv!yeonjun who goes to the same pool you do, on the same regular basis as you, and when you tell your friends how cute you think he is, you think it's just a coincidence 🤭 little do you know he's practically obsessed with you and the way you move through the water so effortlessly, curves and rolls and dimpled thighs on full display <3 and when he found you go to the pool on a similar schedule as him, well, he wouldn't pass that up for anything... brushing past you in the pool just to get a chance to feel your skin against his, imagine his surprise when he finds out he has a personal connection to you... friend's friend's sister, and best of all, you're both headed to a party together the next week... 🤭

OH MY GOD YEAH,,, perv!jjun x chubby!reader 🔛🔝

yeonjun remembers the very first moment that he saw you, the way your curves spilled out the sides of your swimsuit, your ass and tits barely hidden by the thin fabric — god, you're an image to behold, and he sure as hell wants a taste...little does he know, you have similar thoughts about him, how his strong arms would feel around you, how his hard chest would feel pressed against your back as he takes you from behind....

he's pleasantly surprised to learn that you're not a complete stranger that he'll never see again when he sees you at a party the next weekend, short denim shorts and crop top leaving little to the imagination,, and when you strip down to your bikini right in front of him to get into the house's pool?? fuck, he feels himself getting hard. how innocent you seem, unknowing just how much power you hold over him — but you're not that innocent, not really. you've been catching him eyeing you all night, even your friends have confirmed your suspicions, and perhaps you're feeling a little bold,, you go up to him as he stands alone, just observing the party, bikini clinging to your wet skin, and introduce yourself

it doesn't take long for the two of you to move somewhere more..private, especially after he sat you in his lap as you got to know each other better, his half-hard cock pressing against your sensitive pussy and you grinding back into him, ever a tease,,, he pushes you into vacant bathroom inside the house, bending you over the counter as he shoves his shorts and boxers down and your bikini bottoms to the side, exposing your cute lil cunt, all wet and ready for him...with little prep, he bottoms out rolls and wastes no time in pounding into you, reveling in your loud cries that he's sure everyone outside can hear,,holds you by your hair to keep you from burying your face in your arms, loving how ruined you look in the mirror for him, your body jiggling with every harsh roll of his hips,, and don't think he isn't going to tell you how pretty you look, how well you take his cock, slapping your ass just to watch it quake against his hand,, pulls out to cum onto the pretty rolls of your back, painting your skin with white ropes of cum — and before you can even think, he's on his knees behind you, nosing your entrance and breathing in your delicious scent before his tongue is ravaging your pussy til you cry <3333

...yeah, he's gonna have a lot of fun with you this summer 😵‍💫

[eilaafterhours]

Wrapped Around Your Fingers [Ais]

Content: Box Au, Switching POVs, Reader is a BAMF, Smut, Sexual Tension, Grinding, Thigh Fucking, Possessive Ais (TOUCHSTARVED), Written Before Game’s Full Release, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Continuation of: Heart on Your Sleeve, Jaw on My Knuckles [Ais]

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Just as he thought, a cold shower didn’t cut it. However, when he did say fuck it, and let go, it didn’t work. Yeah, he came (more times than he wanted to admit), but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering. From remembering things that happened under a new…sexual lens, or making up completely new things. 

Like you putting him in his place (which wasn’t too far from what you already did, but he wouldn’t mind if you got more handsy with him).

Alright! That’s enough thinking for tonight! He needed another shower and to hit the damn hay. 

Ais did not sleep well that night (he came a few more times in the shower, and attempted to go to bed with a raging hard-on). 

The days flew by, and it was like he hadn’t been jerking off to you every night. It was a miracle that he was able to act like his mind wasn’t full of filth. He guessed that since your regular business attitude was rubbing off on him.

(But what if you treated him like that in be—)

Alright, that’s it! He needed to go blow off some steam (and train).

Your brows pinched together as you watched Ais jump up from his desk, snatch his duffle bag, and fly out the room. He had been acting weird these past few days. He kept his distance, didn’t make the childish-ass jokes he used to, and would leave the room multiple times a day. There was only one answer.

Mans had it BAD for you. 

You smirked to yourself as you continued working. Finally, you weren’t the only one feeling something. Despite your completely perfect work ethic, you still could see that Ais was an insanely attractive man. You were never going to pursue anything, let it be a fleeting thing until someone else came through (as if there could be anyone other than him(well there was Ocudeus—). However, with the new development of his feelings for you, things have taken a turn. 

Boss made a dollar, you made a dime. Time to hatch a plot on company time.

To be honest, you didn’t have to do much. Turn up the charm a bit, dress a little more “I’m fucking my boss” casual, and tug his leash a bit more. 

“Ais, this is the fifth time you’ve gotten up.” You hadn’t even looked up at him, fingers still flying across the keyboard. “Sit your firm ass down.” 

He did as was told, but slump down with his head on the desk. 

“Cute.”, you thought. He was that big, but nothing but a soft dork. 

Soon to be your dork, hopefully. 

Probably. 

He lifted his head up, turning his attention back to his own work. The raging blush and hopping knee both telling you:

Definitely. 

Ais had absolutely no clue how he ended up in this situation. 

“Are you gonna keep breathing down my neck, or are you gonna do something, Ais?” 

“I’d go beat that bastard up now,” His hands were on your waist, threatening to go lower. “If it didn’t end up looking bad for you.” 

“Then you need to make it quick.” Was your answer.

But he sure as hell wasn’t asking any questions. 

His hands, that had been creeping, immediately went for your belt buckle to work your pants off. You helped him with it, but stopped him before he could really get his hands on you.

“Stay outside. I don’t want to take your dick for the first time here, of all places.”

He nodded his head, shoving your pants and underwear down to your knees. “Whatever you say, beautiful.” 

“Ais…”

“I’m being serious.” He was sure you were glaring at him through the mirror, but he was too busy looking at your dripping cunt.

You spread your legs for him. “Well then, hurry up. The match starts in ten minutes.” 

Yeah, and if he didn’t feel you soon, he was gonna burst just from looking at you. Regardless, though, he was going to commit all of this to memory.

“Damn, you’d think you’re the one who’s needy here.” He had freed himself from his shorts and boxers, and quickly placed himself against your slick. “Oh, wait, you are.”

“Just…mmh, shut up and get me off.”

He didn’t say anything, just started grinding into you. He relished in the way his pelvis smacked against your ass and thighs, and how each stroke became smoother as your arousal coated his cock.

But he wanted more.

So once you were both slick enough, he instructed you to close your thighs tight, and to hang on to something. 

And he went to town on you. 

If anyone else hard the vanity banging against the wall, no they didn’t.

Everything that went on in this room was meant for the two of you alone. For him, it was how you tried your best to stay quiet, to keep your eyes from rolling back, and the feeling of your thighs quivering as they attempted to stay closed. He was sure that despite everything you were feeling, you were committing things to memory yourself. 

“Ah—mh…Ais—” Your thighs slammed close as you came.  Ais was already on edge as well, so when you pulled his dick into an even tighter grip, he came as well. 

Now the room was quiet, except for the both of your labored breath.

Until your phone’s alarm went off, signalling that he had a minute to get out there.

You were the first to move away, reaching for your bag. He sighed as he adjusted himself. He really hated how things ended there. It made him feel gross, like he just used you for himself.

“The quicker you finish the match, the quicker we can get back to your place.” 

“Then you better be ready in twenty, sweet cheeks.” 

At this point, Ais couldn’t even remember what his issue Ocudeus even was. It really was as simple as beat his ass, then go home with you.

“You think you’re slick, but I know you. I know that stupidass dopey face. So, what’d that bitch do? Gave you head, or what?” He smirked, attempted to cut him with a right cross, “I doubt it, though. Rather be choking on my dick instead.”

Oh, yeah. It was his fucking mouth (amongst many other things).

He socked him a good one. Didn’t knock him on his ass like he wanted, but hey, he still had another six minutes to fuck with him before he needed to be back with you.

The car ride to Ais’ place was quiet. You can tell that there was some anger simmering within him. Ocudeus probably had said something to him, probably about you and him.

Oh well! You (and your pussy) would help him realize that whatever the fuck that loser said wasn’t worth it.

And it didn’t take long for you to get started on that because the moment he locked the door, his hands were on you. 

Your lips curled upward as he shoved your bottoms down. “Guess we’re not making it to the bedroom.” Your smile widen as his gaze found your little surprise. “But it’s okay because we can skip the foreplay.”

Ais sighed something fierce, then he looked you in the eyes. “I promise to do this right another time.”

You pushed your bottoms down the rest of the way and stepped out of them. “Of course you will. You always keep your promises, Ais.”

:) So, I was told (THE VOICES) to leave it there, so I guess I'll see y'all in another part lol

If you wanna hear me be on some shit, here's my Bluesky~

Masterlist

[ladylooch]

What's It Gonna Be? [Mack X David]

A/N: The ask for this blurb disappeared.... what is up with inboxes right now? My stuff disappears on the reg. Idk maybe it is too full. ANYWAYS, the original ask was something along the lines of: When is the next time David and Mack interact after the kiss. So here it is...

The day after their kiss is the first time she hears from Davey outside of a Lucie and Connor interaction. 

Mack is running on the treadmill in her building gym, just about to hit her highest ascent before beginning her cool down. She startles at Siri beginning to read off an unknown number into her AirPods, then her robotic voice shrills out “Hi Mackncheese.” Mack grabs the edges of the treadmill to stay upright. She slaps the stop button, then gradually lets the treadmill die off. 

You decide yet honey 🍯

Mack’s breathing is labored from her 4 mile run along with her surprise at hearing from him. How did he even get her number? She pushes her sweaty hair back into her ponytail, then grabs her phone. She opens her messages, reading his texts over again as a bubble signals he has more to say. She waits, anticipation clinging to her skin like sweat.

Would be so good to ya...

Mack absentmindedly grazes her lips with the tips of her fingers. His kiss left her discombobulated and speechless last night. She has little doubt that David Carlson knows how to treat a woman in the way he is insinuating. But he doesn't need to know that.

You’re confident of that? Mack decides to type back.

The bubble pops up again. 

Wanna play show and tell? All you gotta do is say yes.

Mack smiles down at her phone as she gets off the treadmill. She missteps and falls down. From her back, she closes her eyes in deep embarrassment. Good lord, this man has her all out of sorts. She needs to get her shit together. From her resting place, she sends him a single Emoji: 🤷🏻‍♀️

Hey, I'll take it for today. It’s not a no.

He has sent one text a day since then, all with the same sexy inquisitiveness. Now, it’s Wednesday and Mack finds herself scrolling back into those messages, scanning them over again while lounging on Lucie and Connor's couch.

Make up your mind yet baby? Bed is getting mighty lonely.

You still got that bikini from your Maldives article? Would love to see it in person.

When do you wanna come over? Got this great spot for you to sit on… 

Mackncheese, your time is running out. What have you decided?

The last one was from today and Mack still doesn’t have an answer for him. She is still attempting to catch up with these new feelings for him. She’s tried to reason the feelings away, insist they aren’t there, smother them out, but nothing is working. She finally had to come to the conclusion that they were real and she needed to sort them out before anything went further. 

David is everything Mack thought she hated in men. He is decisive, rugged, fights people on the ice, sarcastic as hell, and his endless teasing makes her eye twitch on the regular. She likes soft men. Men who read poetry and appreciate the arts and don’t mind sitting in a coffee shop for hours on end. David always has to be doing something. He’s either running around with Stella or helping Lucie in the kitchen or looking over Mack’s shoulder while she tries to formulate the outline for her next article. He’s too much and worst of all, he never lets Mack fade into the background when he is around. 

This would never work. 

Except, he’s the only one who sees her, clearly and unflinchingly. 

“Auntie? Can I have McDonald’s for dinner?” Mack blinks to come out of her thoughts.

“Your mom has chicken nuggets for you.”

“Yeah, gluten free.” Stella whines. “I want the crispy ones from McDonald’s.” Mack looks at her standing there, contemplating. Lucie didn’t say they couldn’t go out for dinner. She just said there was chicken nuggets in the freezer. If Mack’s being honest, McDonald’s chicken nuggets with buffalo and ranch sound really good.

“Only if you say I’m your favorite aunt.”

“You’re my favorite aunt.”

“You like me better than Uncle Lee?”

“No!” Stella laughs, then bites her lip, little shoulders quaking up and down. 

“What! You are such a stinker, Stell!” Mack laughs. 

“He brings McDonalds without me asking. Just shows up with it!” 

“We call that a suck up. He is buying your love.”

“And it’s working.” Mack claps her hand over her chest and howls with laughter. Stella is such a hoot. She always knows how to make Mack laugh.

“Let’s go sassy pants. Get some boots on, it was snowing earlier.”

Mack and Stella bundle up for the three walk block down the street to grab french fries, chicken nuggets, and a Sprite for each of them. Mack opens the door to let them out. They both startle when they see a tall figure on the other side of the door, fist raised, poised to knock. Stella catches on first.

“Davey!” Stella yells excitedly, launching into him. She headbutts him directly in the junk and he coughs out in pain. 

“Ooo. Hi Stell.” He says tightly, hand coming to grip himself over his zipper. “Ow.” He hisses air in through his teeth.

“Maybe you shouldn’t hover in people’s doorways.” Mack shrugs, stepping out of the apartment. She turns with the key, flipping the lock then turns back to the hallway. Mack gasps at how tightly David is crowding her space. She has to tilt her head all the way back to see his face.

“Got an answer for me?” He whispers, lips poised only a foot from her lips. She drags her top teeth over bottom lip. Her chest puffs out, feeling dizzy at the assault of his scent and masculine energy hovering over her.

“Is that why you’re here?” She wonders.

“No, I’m here to watch Stell.” He smirks, thinking it's cute that she thinks he came up to bug her.

“I’m here watching Stell? Lucie and Connor left an hour ago.” He furrows his brows in confusion, mustache pursing out with his top lip. He tilts his head to the side.

“Oh…” He trails off, then looks over his shoulder at Stella. “I guess you win again, Mackncheese.” 

“What? A night of watching TV dictated by a child? Lucky me.” He chuckles. 

“Over-under on how many times you’re watching the Little Mermaid?”

“I’m taking the under.” She laughs, then puts the keys in her purse. David shoves his hands in his worn, jean pockets, still not giving her much space. He is dressed in an olive green sweater that highlights the deepness of his emerald eyes.

“Where you going?” He asks.

“McDonalds!!!” Stell yells, coming back up to them. “You can come with us!”

“Oh… he probably has other-"

“Sweet! What are we getting?!” David answers before Mack can finish. She sighs heavily. Now that Stella is involved, there is no way David is not coming.

“Chicken nuggets!”

“Chicken nuggets?! Is that all you eat!? Gonna stunt your growth? Gonna be like the little runt piglets on my farm."

“Yeah!” She cheers, then slides her little hand in his big paw. “Go, go, go!”

She forces her body almost completely forward trying to pull him. He grips her tighter to keep her upright, then begins to walk. Mack stands there, dumbfounded at what is happening. How does he get invited along to everything? She watches her niece skip excitedly down to the elevator with David, admiring the way his strong arm easily supports and monitors every leap of Stella into the air. When she stumbles once, he catches her completely, like a constant safety net.They’re all the way to the elevator before they notice she isn’t with them.

“What’s it gonna be Mack?” David asks.

Mack knows he is talking about more than this McDonald’s run.

[thesimulationswarm]

Balsam Chapter 2: Knife to the Jugular

This is a story about trauma. What trauma does to a person, and what trauma does to a community. And how, in the midst of it, people find their way to joy, delight— even love.

Pairing: Joel Miller x original female character Summary: After the events of tlou, Joel and Ellie try to establish a “normal life” in Jackson, but neither of them are any good at normal. A town doctor tries to care for residents who have experienced unspeakable trauma, and struggles to overcome her own past at the same time. Joel finds himself drawn to her, as their lives become increasingly intertwined. Meanwhile, outside Jackson, troubling things are happening... Rating: explicit 18+ MDNI Word count: 6k Warnings: slow burn (there will be smut eventually), canon-typical violence, descriptions of medical situations, trauma/PTSD symptoms, description of a dead body, some sexual harassment, sexual dream and thoughts about sex and masturbation (m), Ellie and Joel figuring out how to be family, Tommy and Joel figuring out how to be family, angst

Series masterlist

Joel had known she’d be pissed, but didn’t realize she’d be this pissed. The look she was giving him as he finished packing his bag was downright hateful. He looked away, concentrated on tightly rolling a change of clothes to fit in the bottom of the pack.

“Ellie, I told you it was gonna be a regular thing,” he said, trying to keep his voice stern. She needed to understand that this was how it was going to be, and he was afraid if she saw him soften she’d never let up the pressure.

“Patrol every week is not just a regular thing, Joel. It’s a fucking job.”

“So what? Everybody in Jackson has a job.”

“Yeah, like baking bread or feeding sheep. Jobs that are, you know, actually in Jackson.”

He sighed. As usual, she had his number: he didn’t want to be in Jackson, and he was doing what he could to get away. 

But he also very much wanted her to be in Jackson, where he knew she was safe. Where she could do normal things, like go to school and make friends. Hell, maybe even get a boyfriend. Be a kid, in other words.

He looked at her, standing in the doorway of his room, arms crossed over her chest and jaw set murderously. She was backlit by the hallway light, which caught gold on the strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. Half angel, half juvenile delinquent.

“Why can’t I just go with you?”

He shoved the clothes into his bag and gave her an exasperated look. “Ellie, we’ve been over this. No kids on patrol.”

“I’m not just some kid,” she spat. “I’ve survived out there with you!”

His mind stuttered with sudden images of what was out there: a rain of gunfire, hordes of infected, blood on the snow. He shut the thoughts down, forced his face into a mask of careful neutrality before meeting her eyes. He would never, never let her get so close to danger again.

“You are a kid, Ellie. You belong in Jackson, where it’s safe. Go make friends with someone your own age.”

She slammed the door so hard he could feel the frame of the house rattle.

They were meeting at the stables to tack up their horses and go over the route for the day. It was well below freezing this early in the morning and the muddy ground under her boots was frozen in ruts and craters. Nina looked up at the sky as she sidled through the barn door; in the west, the last stars were fading into a violet smudge against the horizon. 

She was pleased to see Joel Miller there along with Tommy— he struck her as someone more than capable of handling threats. And he was quiet, which she considered a great asset in a patrol partner. She left Jackson rarely, although she loved the rough mountain landscape around the town. When she was out there she wanted a little space in which to appreciate it.

She was less pleased to see Isaac. She recognized his rangy frame as she approached the group. He still— at the age of twenty-two— carried himself like he hadn’t grown into those long limbs and didn’t know what to do with them. Isaac was a sweet kid, but he was soft, and lacked common sense. Worse still, he was an incorrigible talker. She knew Tommy was trying to train him up, get him more used to patrols. A laudable goal, but she’d rather not be personally involved in it.

“What’s up, Doc?” Isaac called out to her, then laughed at his own joke. She nodded to him, then to Tommy and Joel.

Tommy gave her a close-lipped smile, but he looked a little uneasy, his eyes tired. Poor guy probably didn’t want to be leaving Maria, who was too far along to be going on patrols. How would genial, steady Tommy deal with fatherhood, she wondered? Hopefully better than Derek Starkey, with his anxiety and desperation and the problem she still hadn’t found a way to unknot. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go on patrol before,” Isaac remarked, materializing at her side as she brushed Marlene, her favorite horse. “So how come we lucked out today?”

“Usually there’s too much for me to do in town. But I need to harvest some plants,” she replied. Marlene nickered softly as she swept the curry brush down her flank. 

“Sweet! A foraging trip!” She kept her eyes trained on her horse and prayed that he’d be quiet once they hit the trail.

Maria had given the girl a few hours before going over there. Figured that if she had a chance to calm down it would go better. Joel had warned her this morning that Ellie was not too pleased about him leaving again. She was unsurprised— the girl had a temper, and living with Joel was not exactly the best setting in which to learn health coping skills.

Now she was standing on the front steps, growing increasingly inpatient as she waited for Ellie to answer her knocks.

“Ellie!” She pounded again at the door, standing on her toes to peer through the window. It was too dark inside to see anything. 

“I’m way too pregnant to be standing out here in this weather, girl,” she yelled. “If you don’t open this time, I’m going to leave, but I’ll be coming back with someone to help me take the door off its hinges.”

Finally, Maria heard the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by the deadbolt sliding back. Then Ellie was standing there in the door frame, glaring daggers at her.

“Fine, I’m here. Now what?”

Maria gave her what she hoped read as a sympathetic smile, although at this point she was mostly feeling exasperated by the drama. “I know you’re upset about—”

“I’m not upset,” Ellie interrupted brusquely. “I was just in the back room and didn’t hear you.”

The girl was obviously full of shit, but Maria wasn’t going to fight with her on this. It wasn’t worth the time. Instead, she turned back toward her house and beckoned at Ellie to follow her.

“C’mon over. I made lunch.”

Ellie followed her, literally dragging her feet as she walked. Maria sighed. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about the next two days herself. Last time Joel had gone on patrol, Tommy’d been at home, and he’d put on his best ‘fun uncle’ routine for Ellie. It had worked, at least to an extent: Ellie’d been irritable, but she hadn’t locked herself in any houses. Now with Tommy and Joel both gone it was just the two of them, and she had no one to give her a break when Ellie wore her patience thin.

They sat at the table in her kitchen, and Maria ladled them both big bowls of soup. There was bread, fresh from the bakery this morning, and a dish of sweet cream butter. Her mouth watered: she was hungry pretty much all the time these days.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Maria finally spoke.

“You know, I wasn’t happy about Tommy going on this patrol.”

Ellie gave her a pained look. “Is this your attempt at female bonding?”

Maria was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to slap the girl. Ellie seemed to have that effect on her— she was young, yes, but she had a sharpness about her that Maria knew not to underestimate.

“No, just saying what I’m thinking. I wish he was back here with me, or that I could be out there with him.”

She didn’t mention that she was particularly alarmed at Tommy being out there with Joel. That she hated how her husband seemed to be less of himself when he was in the shadow of his big brother. She used to just worry about Tommy getting hurt when he went on patrol. Now, since Joel and Ellie had shown back up in Jackson, she’d started worrying about Tommy doing something he’d regret forever. Different ways of losing him.

“You’re due in, like, two months,” Ellie said quietly, looking down at the table. “You’ll be back out on patrol soon. But you don’t let kids go on patrol until they’re eighteen here. I can’t wait four fucking years.” The pain in her voice was clear, and Maria fought the urge to reach out and clasp Ellie’s hand. The girl was too feral to take that well.

“You’re right. It’s a long time.” Maria was quiet for a minute, looking out the window. The sun was bright, climbing into the crystalline blue of the sky. “You can’t go on patrol, but there are a lot of other jobs in Jackson that you would be good at. If you want to show that you can be independent.”

“That I would be good at?” Ellie asked, dubiously.

Maria smiled. “Like working on the farm. I’ve seen how well you interact with the animals.” 

It was early afternoon when they reached the Snake River and stopped to eat. The kid had been talking for almost all of the goddamn ride, mostly at Nina, who he peppered with questions.  Joel was relieved it wasn’t him on the receiving end, but it was still getting old.

“You’re not from Wyoming originally, are you, Doc?” Isaac asked, between bites of his sandwich.

“No,” said Nina flatly. “Indiana.”

“Indiana!” Isaac spoke like this was an exciting fucking answer.  

“She grew up in an Indiana town,” he began to sing, eyes trained on the doctor. “Had a good lookin’ mama who never was around.”

The kid had a surprisingly nice tenor. Nina looked astonished enough by his singing voice that, for a brief moment, the annoyance left her face. But now was the time to stop singing, quit while he was ahead— and of course, Isaac did not. 

It was painful to watch.

“She grew up tall and she grew up right—” here he paused to waggle his eyebrows suggestively— “With them Indiana boys on them Indiana nights! Well, she moved out here—”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” Tommy jumped in, putting the kid out of his misery. “Doc clearly didn’t grow up tall.” He kept his voice light, but Joel could see the strain on his features. His little brother’d always been a peacekeeper, and he was clearly regretting putting this patrol team together.

“No, I wouldn’t say ‘tall’ is something I’m known for,” Nina agreed dryly, avoiding Isaac’s eyes.

Tommy slapped his hands against his thighs and stood, in the universal signal for we better get moving.

“Anyways, we don’t have all day to sit around and sing. This is where we split up. I’m goin’ to head up the mountain a little ways—” he pointed off in the distance—“on a spur trail where I can get a better view of the valley. Nina will stay down here and cut willow branches. Joel, why don’t you stay with her and Isaac, you come with me.”

Joel took his time finishing his lunch while Tommy and Isaac mounted their horses and sauntered off toward the thicker woods. They were well out of hearing range when he stood, brushing the crumbs off his jeans.

“I guess Tommy didn’t want you to murder the kid before we’re even halfway through.”

Nina snorted. “Just as well. I don’t think he’ll let me come back on patrol if I kill his little protege.”

Joel fed and watered the horses while Nina set to work, hacking small branches off of the willow thickets that dotted the shore. He looked her way every few minutes, partially to make sure all was still well, but also out of curiosity. 

He noticed she was selecting younger, thinner branches, and skipping over the dense and woody ones. She also seemed to be avoiding the branches that were already sprouting soft leaves, which surprised him— he would’ve thought it was the leaves she was after. She worked quickly, economically, her small frame sliding from bush to bush.

As he was finishing up with the horses, she turned and caught him watching her. He looked away quickly, but not before he saw a wary irritation flicker across her features. She’d put up with enough staring today already, he supposed.

Well, unlike Isaac, he could make himself useful.

“Can I help?”

She stopped what she was doing and turned completely now, as he walked in her direction. “I can go downstream and work on that patch,” he added, pointing a little ways off along the bank. Didn’t want her to think he was going to cling to her like the kid.

“Sure,” she said, and held up the branch she’d just cut to show him. “I only take two or three from each plant, or else they can die. These younger branches are the best— make your cut right at the node so they have a chance to regrow.”

He nodded. “And only branches that aren’t budding yet, right?”

She tilted her head, mildly surprised. “Have you harvested willow bark before?”

“Oh, uh, no.” Joel looked down at her pile of branches. So it was the bark she was gathering, then. “Just noticed, that’s all.”

She inspected the bush in front of her. “It’s a narrow window of time. You want the sap to be flowing, and they can be getting catkins,” she explained, gesturing at the velvety gray spikes that were emerging from the plant. “But no leaves. Once those start growing, the concentration of salicin drops.”

He’d been nodding along as she spoke, but lost her on that last bit. He wasn’t going to ask though— he’d give her a break from questions. Joel trudged down along the snowy bank, stopping in front of a small willow tree and unsheathing his knife.

Once he got into the rhythm of it, cutting the branches was satisfying, meditative work. His hands were cold and stiff in the March air, but the movement kept the rest of him warm enough. He could hear the river flowing behind him, the birds chattering in the forested area ahead. The satisfying shick of his knife, as he swung his arm in an easy rhythm.

He’d been at it for about an hour when he heard something new— hoofbeats, fast, coming from the mountainside. He moved quickly back toward where Nina was working, half crouched to conceal himself behind the brush, swinging his rifle around and lifting it in the direction of the sound. 

If it was Tommy and Isaac, something had happened to make them break into a gallop. And if it was someone else, who knows what kind of trouble they’d be.

As the horse grew closer, he heard the whistle: long and low, long and low, then fast and high. Their signal for ‘all clear.’ His let out a sigh and lowered the gun, just as Isaac rode into sight. He watched the kid approach, waiting for Tommy to follow him out of the trees— but Isaac was alone. Something was definitely not right.

He turned to Nina— she looked as discomfited as he felt. She, too, had a hand on her gun, eyes trained on Isaac as he approached.

“Dr. Connor!” He hollered, a few yards away now. “We found a body. Tommy wants you to go take a look and see if you can figure out how long it’s been there.”

Two figures were in the field in front of the barn, spraying caked mud off of horse tack. Ellie recognized one of them as Old Michael— so called to distinguish him from Big Michael, who was half his age and twice his size. He was small but tough-looking, with a walrus mustache that put Joel’s to shame.

“What can I help you with, chickadee?” Old Michael drawled.

“I want to help look after the animals,” Ellie replied, trying to sound sure of herself.

Old Michael nodded. “Back in that shed is where the kids hang out.” He pointed to a metal building on the far side of a sheep enclosure. “The teenagers handle the dogs.”

“The… dogs?” Ellie replied. This was not what she was expecting.

“Chuy’s trying to train up some new puppies. Cute little things.”

She hesitated. Joel would flip if he found out she was helping with the cordyceps-sniffing dogs. She still didn’t understand why that dog hadn’t sniffed her out that day, when they were surrounded and outgunned in the snowy field. But she knew it wasn’t just a fluke— she’d seen it around town twice, let it sniff her and lick her hands. Each time she waited, expecting this to be the moment she’d have to go fucking kung-fu and kill her way out of Jackson.

But the dog never once alerted on her. If it was going to happen, it would’ve by now.

And also, fuck Joel. He couldn’t leave her behind in this town every week and decide what she got to do and not do while she was stuck here. Go make friends with someone your own age. Ellie didn’t know how to tell Joel that she hadn’t been very good at that, even when she was surrounded by people her own age. Most people her age fucking sucked. But that didn’t entirely stop her from wanting to try.

Ellie headed across the cold field and opened the door of the shed. She blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust to the dimness, and then she saw them: four impossibly soft-looking, black and gold puppies, chasing each other around a metal enclosure. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed, kneeling down to get on their level.

“Pretty fucking adorable, right?” She swiveled her head to see a girl sitting on a hay bale and a boy leaning against the wall. They looked familiar— she’d seen the boy walking the dog around town and the girl at the dining hall. The boy was tall, with floppy black hair and a slightly stooped frame. The girl had a wide mouth and straight, glossy brown hair. Her coat was flung open and Ellie could see the tight white shirt she wore underneath. 

“I’m Brandy,” she said, flashing a dazzling smile.

“Ellie. I’m new to Jackson.” She stood and took a few steps to join them.

“I’ve seen you around town,” the boy said. His face was serious but not unfriendly. “I’m Chuy.”

“You’re the dog guy, right?”

This elicited something close to a smile. “Yeah, I’m the main dog trainer. I learned from my dad.”

“That’s cool,” Ellie said, shoving her hands in her pockets. Fuck, that sounded lame. She wondered how old Chuy and Brandy were— they looked a little older than her, maybe, but not much. “I, uh, was hoping I could learn how to help with them.”

“We can always use extra help. Come on, we’ll show you around.” Brandy jumped off the hay bale and led Ellie to a side room full of supplies. She explained the feeding system, the process of “housebreaking” the puppies, and how they cleaned their pen. Brandy was enthusiastic and foul-mouthed about everything. Chuy followed along, occasionally jumping in with his measured voice to explain or elaborate.

Finally Brandy turned to a small refrigerator in the corner. “This is where we keep the most important shit in here.”

Chuy opened the fridge, revealing a wire rack with several small glass vials, each containing an amber-colored liquid. He lifted one gingerly, and held it out in front of Ellie’s face. His eyes glittered.

“It’s urine, from someone a few hours after they were bit on the leg. Before they changed.”

“What the fuck!” Ellie stepped backward, almost tripping over a food bowl.

Brandy threw her head back and laughed. Ellie looked from her to Chuy, and from Chuy to the vial, and back to Brandy. Both of them were laughing now, and Ellie felt a flush of blood to her face. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.

“Okay, but why do you have a vial of almost-infected piss?”

“This stuff is more valuable than gold,” Chuy explained with a dramatic air. “When we train the dogs to recognize this smell, they can detect an infected person before they’re full blown. And they can tell us.”

“And how the fuck did you get it?”

“It’s from the FEDRA medical facility outside of San Francisco. There’s this guy Mo who steals from them and a bunch of other places. He travels through here a few times a year and trades with us,” Chuy explained.

“He gets all the best medications for Dr. Connor. She’s waiting for him to come back because she’s almost out of some important supplies,” Brandy added.

Chuy pushed her arm playfully. “She thinks she’s hot shit because she’s Dr. Connor’s little assistant.”

“You’ll be happy I know how to fix broken bones when Clemons catches you with his porn collection and smashes your fucking nose in,” Brandy retorted. Chuy gave her a censorious look.

“Why does FEDRA keep infected pee? Do they use it to make their detectors?” Ellie felt her heart hammering against her ribcage. The FEDRA detectors, unlike the dog, had caught her. What if the dogs just needed more training to figure it out?

“Nah, they keep all kinds of infected people locked up there to study them. But their detectors just use antibodies. All infected people produce them,” Chuy explained. “You can’t train dogs on antibodies they because they freak out if there’s a bunch of infected around—the smell is too much for them and they go crazy. With this stuff though, they only smell people who are turning. And those are the people you need it for, because once someone’s fully infected you don’t need a dog to tell you.”

“It’s fucking genius,” Brandy added. “Those FEDRA detectors need batteries and spare parts, and you’re, like, constantly fixing them. But all the dogs need is food and water and they live for years.” Ellie watched her lips move as she spoke, plump and petal-pink. She felt her stomach flip.

“My dad’s an organic chemist. He was the one who discovered that dogs can detect volatile organic compounds human cells give off when they’re being killed by cordyceps.” Chuy talked like he was some kind of teacher— like he was smart but he knew he was smart. “The compounds get concentrated in urine but they’re also in breath and sweat, so once dogs recognize the smell they can pick it out on anyone who’s been bit.”

“Well I must have missed that day in science class when they talked about how infected piss smells.”

Chuy looked mildly hurt but Brandy laughed loudly, and Ellie felt warmth bloom across her chest. She smiled.

Tommy had climbed back up to the trail to wait. From there he could keep an eye on the body, several yards down the slope, and be better positioned to watch for the rest of the patrol arriving— or anyone else.

He held his 700 tightly, feeling his palms sweating against the stock. He breathed deeply, willing his heart to slow down, as he swept his eyes back and forth across the forest, watching for signs of movement. Tommy didn’t like being alone out here, but he hadn’t wanted to leave the body and he needed Nina’s expertise here.

The body’d looked rough. Hard to tell what was from being out here in the elements and what was from however the poor guy had died. But the eyes were missing, for one. And the lips.

He was relieved when he heard hoofs, followed shortly by a whistled ‘all clear.’ The three of them rounded the bend in the trail in quick succession: Isaac, then Nina, and Joel bringing up the rear.

Nina dismounted and followed his gaze down the scrubby slope to where the body lay. “I take it you didn’t see it on your last patrol? When was the last time you took this trail?”

“Two weeks ago. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t here then.”

She nodded, handing her horse’s lead to Isaac. “Alright then, I better go have a look.”

“Wait— I’ll go down there with you. ’S not far, but best we don’t split up right now.”

They picked their way back down the ravine, holding onto tree trunks to slow themselves and avoid slipping on the carpet of pine needles. The body had settled into a relatively level section, where a small outcropping of rocks had formed a ledge. It was face up, looking straight at the sky, clad in a camo jacket and jeans that were now painted dark with old blood. Hard to tell how old he’d been, what with part of his goddamn face missing, but maybe fifties? A balding man, with a yellow beard.

Nina seemed unaffected by the sight of him, kneeling down by his face to get a closer look. She reached for the arm closest to her and bent it upward slowly, then set it down. Next, she lifted the forearm, bending the elbow.

“Well, he’s cold as ice but not very stiff. Probably been at least three days out here in this weather, if rigor mortis has worn off.” She looked up at him. “Not that I’m an expert on this or anything.”

“You’ll have to do, Columbo.” Tommy felt relieved— three days made it less likely they’d run into whoever or whatever had killed the man. “Do you have any idea what happened to him?”

He watched while she looked the guy over in detail. Rolled up his sleeves and pant legs, lifted up his shirt, closely inspected the mutilated face. Finally she tilted his head back, revealing a yawning slit cut through his neck, just below his jaw.

“I think that’s it, boss. Knife to the jugular.”

“And what about…” Tommy gestured vaguely at the cadaver’s face.

Nina shrugged. “I think he just got eaten by animals. Those are the softest parts.”

Oh. Well, that was better than the alternative. He wiped his palms on his jacket and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He shouldn’t let a single body rattle him so much— lord knew he’d seen plenty of them. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more dangerous than usual out here, something sinister that was increasingly encroaching on his home.

“It doesn’t look like he was infected, so that probably wasn’t the motive,” Nina added as they began to climb back up to the trail. “Didn’t have a bag or anything on him, so maybe it was a robbery.”

“Either way, we better be real fuckin’ careful in this area. No more splitting up— we’ll all go on to the campsite together.”

—

The fire flickered and crackled, outside the old ranger station where they were spending the night. Nina watched the flames as she sat peeling strips of bark from her haul of willow branches. Her harvesting session had been cut short by the discovery of the corpse, but thanks to Joel’s contribution she should have enough.

The men were passing around a flask, but she’d demurred. None of them were exactly strangers, and she didn’t get the sense that they intended to harm her. But she was always vigilant when she was outnumbered by men. Alcohol, rather than taking the edge off, only made her panicked— she could feel her senses softening and blurring, and knew that her ability to outfight and outsmart was being compromised.

Isaac had been quiet for about an hour or so after they found the body, but he’d warmed back up to his usual self. He’d set up at her left side, leaning back against a log with his long legs stretched out toward the fire.

“So what exactly is this stuff?” She could smell the whiskey on his breath as he leaned over, inspecting her handiwork.

“It’s basically aspirin. It’s where it came from, originally.” She cut loose another long scrap of bark and flicked it into her bag.

“So you use it for pain?”

“Mmhmm. And fever, and heart issues.”

“Shit, half the older folks in Jackson drink that stuff daily. It’s a hot commodity,” Tommy added. He turned to Joel with a smile. “You might be interested in it, old man.”

Joel smirked, then looked at her. His eyes reflected the dancing flames. “Just might.”

“Okay, but there’s something else I have to know,” Isaac jumped back in. “Why do they call it pussy willow?” He let out a loud laugh. 

Jesus Christ, he was insufferable. She gave him a look that she hoped made her feelings clear.

“I actually know that one,” Joel spoke. Her gaze flicked to his face, not sure if he was coming to her rescue or about to make a joke at her expense. “It’s those little furry things that grow on ‘em in the spring.” He pointed at one of the branches, dotted with their distinctive fuzzy flowers. “Folks thought they looked like little cat tails. Even call ‘em catkins.”

“Well whaddaya know,” Tommy drawled, taking another sip from the flask.

“Huh.” Isaac barely acknowledged the answer to his question before barreling on with another. “How did you learn which of these plants can be used for medicine?”

Nina shrugged. “Some from books. Some from asking people.”

“Did you always want to be a—um— herbalist? Like when you were a little girl?”

She raised her eyebrows incredulously. “No, I grew up in the suburbs of Indianapolis. We had nationally ranked hospitals.”

“Oh man. I forget you grew up before the outbreak. You look so young!” His eyes roved over her face, her body. She’d had about enough.

“Isaac, do you actually think I’m going to have sex with you?”

“What?! No, I just— no, that’s not what I meant,” the kid stuttered, taken aback.

“Because, let me tell you— I absolutely will not. Even if I wasn’t way to old for you, precisely nothing about you interests me. So you can give it a rest.”

Because Isaac wasn’t good at hiding anything, she could see the emotions play out across his face as her words hit. Hurt, embarrassment, anger. Kid was an open book. But at least he was fucking quiet. He stood, turned away from the fire, and grabbed his rifle.

“I’ll take the first watch,” he said roughly, as he walked out toward the edge of their camp.

It was silent for a long moment. Then Tommy spoke. 

“Jesus, Nina. Did you have to be so hard on the kid?”

She looked at him sharply, but didn’t bother responding. She didn’t need to justify herself to him.

“Oh come off it, Tommy,” Joel said, giving his brother a hard stare. “That kid needed put in his place.”

Tommy threw his hands up. “In case you didn’t notice, Joel, we’ve got four people alone in the woods, with who knows what kinds of danger around us. You saw that body today. We gotta stick together out here.”

“Then we need Isaac to get his act together. That boy’s softer’n puppy shit on a rainy day. Gotta toughen up a bit.”

Nina stood, putting away her work and folding her knife. She grabbed her pack and her sleeping bag and headed in to the cabin to get ready for bed. “G’night guys,” she called over her shoulder at the brothers. She’d let them work their own shit out.

Nina walked into the room where he lay sick and pulled the blanket off of his body. Joel stared helplessly up at her black eyes, his limbs so heavy with fever he couldn’t lift them. He couldn’t move or speak. But as she bent down and pressed her soft lips against his cheek, he felt every nerve in his body lighting up and coming alive. “I’m going to take care of you,” she whispered huskily into his skin. She licked a trail down his neck, his chest, and then his stomach, as she moved to kneel between his legs.

Joel woke up with a start, heart pounding in his chest. 

For a moment his heart sank, as the deliciousness of the dream evaporated and he found himself in his sleeping bag on the cold floor.

Then the mortification hit. Nina was sleeping just a few yards away, and Isaac too; Tommy was outside on second watch. His erection had pushed through the fly of his boxers and was pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Jesus Christ.

He turned from his back to his side, angling himself away from the sleeping figures as he adjusted himself. He listened to Nina’s even breaths and Isaac’s faint snoring, and willed his body to calm the fuck down. Counted backwards, tried to think about sewage duty in Boston QZ.

He hadn’t been taking care of things often enough, clearly, if he was about to have a goddamn wet dream at the age of fifty-six. He hadn’t exactly felt comfortable jacking off when he’d been on the road with Ellie, and even back in Jackson he struggled to find a quite moment to rub one out.  Wasn’t used to sharing living quarters with a rude teenager who might barge in on you at any moment.

Joel was, as a matter of fact, used to sharing living quarters with a grown woman, who would help him out in this department from time to time. Or rather they would help each other out. 

They’d been good together—perfect, in some ways. Tess knew just how to touch him, how to get the job done at the end of a long day. She knew how to calm him when his temper sparked out of control, how to direct his energies toward something useful, how to give him space when the darkness threatened to overwhelm him.

She knew not to ask him for more than he could give.

Unexpectedly then, he felt a sob start to rise up in his throat. He bit it back, pressed the pads of his thumbs hard into the corners of his eyes. Get it together, Joel.

Maybe when they got back to Jackson he’d ask Tommy about the unattached women in town. If there was someone around his age who might be looking for a little fun on the side, and who was unlikely to get too attached.

As strong of an effect as the doctor seemed to have on him, she was too young. And he didn’t want to see a repeat of Isaac’s brutal rejection, but with old Joel Miller on the receiving end.

Notes: I tried to come up with a biologically plausible explanation for why the dogs can detect infected but not Ellie, and I'm pretty happy with it. The whole thing with the FEDRA detectors using antibodies is extremely preposterous, though.

The idea about the corpse missing eyes and lips came from the sublimely creepy (and real!) Dyatlov Pass Incident.

[hikennosabo]

#tristampparty day 7, episode 7: wolfwood

this is another episode i've watched multiple times, but mostly just the first half for Livio Reasons. once again... LET'S GOOOOO

i've seen ppl say this is razlo at the start of the episode... i wonder... he is more razlo-like in his movements, and he starts yelling a lot... but his expressions are still livio-like, i think... i mean he is more expressive BUT he's not grinning like razlo usually does? sigh... see the problem is that we ALSO have a level of EoM brainwashing (and whatever the fuck else is going on) on top of everything which throws a wrench in trying to figure things out. I Just Wanna See My Boy.

i love vash holding his gun backwards and using it as a bludgeon and i love going frame by frame to get cool screencaps like this 💖

wolfwood vial count: 4

at the very least, by the time of this next scene, it's definitely livio and not razlo because he's mumbling about "catching up" again which is a livio thing

when i saw the corresponding manga panel for this my brain neurons activated so hard LOL i wonder even more how orange will adapt razlo... since originally livio was trying to catch up with razlo. which i love and think is super interesting. so what is orange planning? ...is livio even aware razlo exists at this point...?

oh also livio looks a bit older here. which once again has me wondering about the timeline. the way the experiments were presented with rollo and nicholas, it looked like they were just on that table forever. as in there were no breaks in between. so... when is this? how long is it between livio volunteering himself for EoM and the experiments on him taking place?

i think it's cute that nico bumps into him :(

let's take ibuprofen together

i wonder who these people are... i thought they might be the EoM soldiers that razlo killed, but those aren't EoM uniforms... it looks like the prison uniform wolfwood was wearing... wolfwood tried to run away, so it makes sense that he wouldn't be the only one, although the phrasing "stand in our way" more implies they tried to stop the operation altogether. but... hmm... they just had regular goons as guards at the time of wolfwood's escape attempt. livio is special... would they really give him a job like guard duty?

CHAPEL JUMPSCARE

razlo sweetiepie there you are!!! mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah

HE'S SUCH A FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN HE'S SO FUNNY

since zazie is the one talking, our attention is drawn to them, so i'm glad i paused on this because the fact that legato is also looking up at wolfwood and smirking is so funny to me. EYES ON THE ROAD BESTIE!!!!

this line is always so funny to me. shonen protagonist ass

i love the scene of vash at the spaceship controls, the animation when he's working the keyboard is so smooth. hmmm, it also reminds me of wolfwood's introduction episode in 98... serves the same narrative purpose of Vash Knowing Things He Shouldn't about spaceships

i love that wolfwood thinks shooting the base of the cannon will do anything. like that's the first thing he tries. shoot first ask questions later i guess

going frame by frame on scenes of legato because i'm unwell... his eyebrows are surprisingly thick! and his eye color is grey... it was gold in 98... oh, i just noticed his eyelashes are light blue!! cute!!

i just think this is a handsome angle for him. his facial features are so pretty and delicate

this is why he buckled his seatbelt :)

... i need to stop posting legato pictures

no because what the hell is this

wolfwood vial count: 5

episode 5 had me asking about the wind... legato asks zazie if they were the one who caused the sandstorm (which they deny)... could it be... is it possible...?

my dumb ass watching this for the first time: damn it's so sad that livio is dead and now they're even gonna use his corpse for nefarious purposes :(

vash's plant markings are so pretty fr <3 orange was big brained for this too

everyone always points out the episode title card being a gut punch but THIS was an unexpected one:

this is how wolfwood is credited this episode and because i'm insane i immediately had to go back and check - this is also how he's credited in episodes 5 and 6: as "nicholas d. wolfwood/nicholas the punisher". in episode 4, he's only listed as "nicholas d. wolfwood". haha ouch!

this post ended up being a little less substantial than expected LOL but we'll soon be getting into the episodes that really give me psychic damage so :^) looking forward to it!!

[abbatoirablaze]

Welcome To The Dollhouse, Pining After The New Girl

Word Count:  1.1k

Warnings:  some language

“You know…you can talk to the girls,” Reverend Teagartin chuckled as he clapped the sheriff on the back, “they ain’t gonna bite ya…at least, not unless you ask them to, Lee.”

“Fuck off, Teagartin.”

The good reverend chuckled, slapping the ass of one of the girls walking by.  She giggled and looked back, but surprise and a little bit of sadness coated her features when he didn’t come chasing after her.  She continued on and he gave the woman a wistful look before turning back to Lee, “what fun would that be now, Lee?  Got our choice of girls.  Prime real ass-tate right there…and what service would I be doing to that if I just fucked off?  Can’t help  you get your dick wet if I just let you sit here in the corner.   Come on, my treat.”

“Well, you leaving me the hell alone would give me some good, happy feelings in a place where I’m supposed to be relaxed.” Lee grumbled, “you ain’t buyin’ me shit, Teagartin.  Last thing I need is you thinking I owe you one.”

“You’re in a piss poor mood for someone who’s allowed his pick of the litter!”

“Fuck off…I’m trying to relax!”

“You ain’t supposed to be relaxed, Bodecker,” he chuckled, “you’re supposed to be full of energy.  Fuckin’ these little sluts til the cow comes home.  Then…then you can relax when you blow your load down the back of their throat.”

“Awful mouth for a reverend.”

“Reverend’s just my day job, Bodecker…we both know that.” He smirked as he watched another one of the girls passing by, “you gonna find yourself a girl, or am I going to have to play the role of pimp too and get you one, draggin em all over, one by one until you finally say yes?”

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Lee grumbled as he took another dreg from his bottle, “if you’re going to harass me while I’m here, do me a favor and grab me another bottle, yeah?”

“You’re on your own with that one,” he smirked, tapping the table, “think I’ve found the one I’m fucking good tonight.”

“Hey…thought you said you’re covering me for the night.”

“For the pussy,” he chuckled, “get your own fucking drinks!”

“Asshole!”

“On that note…you have yourself a good night, sheriff…that girl’s givin’ me the eyes…and I’m going to go make her praise the lord while I fuck her over every surface of her room!”

With another heavy hit to the table, the reverend was off, going after one of his regular girls.  Lee shook his head, still partially in disbelief that Teagartin had been the one to bring him to the dollhouse originally. 

“Ass…”

“Need another, sir?”

Lee barely heard the sweet little thing as she took his mostly empty, warm bottle.  He wanted to be angry over how she was taking a drink that wasn’t even gone yet, but when he looked at her sweet face, he felt himself all but melting as he pointed up to it.  He sat up a little straighter and tipped his hat at her, “while I wanna thank you kindly, I wasn’t done with that one, sweet pea.”

She giggled. 

Giggled at how he was gesturing to the luke-warm beer.

“Nothing good about a stale, warm beer.  Let me grab ya another one.” She offered, batting her lashes at him, “no harm in that, is there?  Won’t even charge ya!”

Lee couldn’t help but smile at her as she gestured towards the beer once more.  This time he found himself nodding along, “Yeah…sure.  Okay…”

He watched as she picked up the bottle, turned, and started to the bar, discarding the beer behind it and picking up a new one from the cooler.  Her lithe, nimble fingers opened it, and soon enough she was back on her way to him. 

Suddenly, he felt a sense of longing for the girl that he hadn’t recognized.  She gave him another gentle smile as she placed the beer down in front of him, “need anything else, sir?”

“You new here?” A blush rose to her cheeks, and Lee suddenly felt too blunt, “I-I mean…I haven’t seen ya, is all.  And usually most of the girls stay away from me…”

“Don’t know why,” she giggled sweetly, “handsome man like yourself…thought you’d be beating the girls away with a stick.”

He felt his own blush heating up his face now, “You’re awful kind, sweet pea…”

“Guess that’s what I get for being new,” she offered, letting the man know that she was indeed new and not some girl who lost her sponsorship, “still need to learn the ropes…the girls stay away from you for a reason?  You belong to someone important?  Sponsor a girl already?”

“I’m free as a bird, sweet pea.  Nothing tying me down.  But you know, I could show you them ropes if you wanted,” he offered kindly.  He spread his legs and patted his lap, “c’mon…have a seat…I can tell ya all the rules of this place while I sip on my beer.”

She smiled and took a few steps towards him before sitting gently on his lap so that she was across it.  He chuckled and shifted her so that she was seated on his lap and his arms were wrapped loosely around her, “sweet pea, look at me.  I’m a sturdy man.  Ya don’t gotta be gentle with me, darling…I ain’t gonna break.”

“I-I’ve never done this…” she admitted bashfully, looking up at him through thick lashes.

Lee smiled a little bit more then, “you never done this?  Like sat on a man’s lap or-“

“Any of it.” She sighed, with a shake of her head, “I-I don’t know…”

“Does this make you uncomfortable, sweet pea?”

She shook her head once more, “no…I-this-it feels exhilarating if I’m being honest.  Sitting on your lap…you being all sweet to me.  I just…”

“You what?” Lee asked, after a moment. 

“Just…no one’s been this nice to me like this, is all,” she shrugged, “grew up with five brohers….so a man’s never really paid me this kind of attention.”

“You poor little touch-starved thing,” Lee sighed, his arms wrapping a little more protectively around the innocent young woman, “I  think we should fix that, hmm?”

She giggled, yet again, and Lee found the smile on his face unable to quit.

“You’re awfully sweet, sir…”

Call me Lee, sweet pea…” the sheriff smiled as his hand caressed her bare thigh and stopped at the curve of her ass.  He gave it a little squeeze and she giggled again, “stick with me and I’ll take real good care of ya.”

“Okay Lee!” she smiled softly, “so long as you show me them ropes you were talking about.”

“Sweet pea, I’ll show you everything…don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothing.”

[muppetears-stuff]

do you have any headcanons about Warren or other characters you like ?

Yes. Yes, I do. Thank you for asking!! ^^ more under the cut cause this gonna be long- :3

so, headcanons vvv

Bisexual. But that's just fanon-

I have a whole bunch of headcanons for double exposure Warren/design concepts that I have only thought of yet😔😔 but I will tell!!!

I love the idea of him having long hair, longer hair than original game Warren. He has it in a low ponytail, or I might just keep it down.

He's a lot more confident in his style and personality than teenage him, so I like to think he still sports the undershirts but wears jackets a lot more now, too. Lanyard covered in pins, and his student ID/regular ID, taking that from his original concept design for the first game because a lanyard feels SO Warren to me,,,,

Breaking away from double exposure thoughts. It's canon that he's friends with most girls at Blackwell. I like to think he's invited to sleepovers and hangouts sometimes, even if he's awkward around them, but he's one of the nicest guys at Blackwell. The girls are taking advantage of that.

I love the thought of nervous characters biting their nails (like me. And Warren is me /hj), and so he paints them/let's the girls paint them, it's to keep him from biting his nails off. If they're pretty or have something on them, he's not gonna wanna bite :]

Listens to bloodhound gang and Weezer. Specifically, "I wish I was queer so I could get chicks." By bloodhound gang and "I just threw out the love of my dreams." By Weezer. And weird al,,,,

He would've had such a wonderful dynamic between Chloe and Max, and I love to think that some rebel/mischievous part of him admired Chloe. He would drop everything to help Max and one of her friends if they needed help, as shown in the game. So he would've definitely helped with the mystery behind Rachel.

The type of guy to take one compliment from someone and think about it for the rest of his life. keeps him up at night type thing. /pos

Flocked to Max and thought he liked her, but it was just because she was the first person who made him feel seen and appreciated and made him feel like a person. He says it in the game, and it makes me cry, so it's not really a headcanon, but the first part is-

Gifted kid shame and burn out. Cries over getting a low grade or score and can not physically function for a week. I would love the idea of in game, him hanging around Chloe and Max, where some of his dialogue is him talking about how he should be back at Blackwell studying but finding what happened to Rachel is more important than an English paper.

If he does something cool as hell, he's gonna recognize it's cool as hell and gets giddy when someone else recognizes that it was cool. (the craving for validation, I get it.)

Mom friend, I have decided. Warren is not opposed to a little tomfoolery, maybe a bit of property damage, but if anyone got hurt while doing so, he's there with a bandaid and disinfectant immediately.

Presented Max with the idea of matching costumes for Halloween, Paulie Bleeker and Juno Macguff from Juno 2007, but she declined ,:3 (they are literally them!!!)

He's overly dramatic about things and will pull out the puppy dog eyes to get what he wants (which isn't a alot, he's a simple man.)

Bag, lanyard, jacket. COVERED in pins and patches of his interests/bands he likes

Has bumper stickers of movie references

Named his car. Her name is Lauren.

Mom knits things for him like sweaters, beanies, and mittens, and it's always a lovely gift during December<33 complete momma's boy.

Has vocal stims of random references that make him giggle way too much, repeats them for no reason. Picks at his cuticles or underneath his fingernails or messes with his undershirt sleeves. Constantly wiping his hands on his jeans. Big hand talker too :3

Wears a ton of wrist bands/bracelets and definitely ends up wearing concert wrist bands they give to you at the door for longer than needed because he forgets to take them off-

Is creatively stunted and can't visualize things properly. He wishes he had the creative brain that Max does so he can maybe see the world outside of facts and pre-established knowledge. Has a hard time writing because of it.

And that's it :DD I could probably do a part 2 with other characters,,,of course, if that is desired💖💖 thank you for asking!!

[waitmyturtles]

THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 1 ("MY PHONE'S STILL NOT WORKING?!") META EDITION

(Unless something changes, I'll be letting loose my Only Friends episodic meta a day late from now to October -- mommy duties call on the weekends! Saturday nights'll be for that GMMTV good-good from here on out.)

So, yesterday's episode was great. I totally enjoyed reading everyone's unhinged pleasure at the first episode yesterday, and I reblogged a whole bunch of stuff and picked up on some early theories. Jojo, Ninew, and Den were having a grand time on Twitter, and it was just a lot of fun to track (JOJO).

Before getting into the meta, just to put this on the record: my first expected and/or hoped-for clown checkpoint is a confirmed and committed throuple (NOT the missed threesome we almost got in this episode, but damn it, missed opportunity!). I understand that @respectthepetty and @shortpplfedup have separately originated a murder/manslaughter clown checkpoint (thanks, @slayerkitty, for THAT heads-up, lol) (and see below re: Mew), which tracks with Jojo's previous comparison to 3 Will Be Free -- am I HOPING for murder? Maybe I'm not HOPING for murder, but for what I'm about to muse on, maybe it won't be a surprise?

@cookie-kat777 (here) and @isaksbestpillow (here) and so many more folks out there are positing that something the fuck is UP with Mew, and I agree. I find him to the the most interesting character so far, simply because he's the only one who's not letting his actions fully tell his story -- he's almost fully in charge of his narrative, as opposed to everyone else so far (Ray, obvious pained drunk; Sand, obviously broke and tired of the BS, cc: @neuroticbookworm, etc).

My read on the kitchen scene is that Mew knew beforehand that he would stop Top in his tracks prior to letting Top in. Mew is clearly a game-player, slamming that bell during bar trivia (....... y'all, that was a HELL of a lot of drinking for bar trivia, HA), and it just struck me that there was a "win" in Mew getting Top to move towards commitment before Mew gives up his thang. I smell narcissism on the dude. Mew's not acting like a blushing maiden, quite the opposite, he knew FULL WELL what he was doing when he let Top in -- but I want to know his goal in getting Top to settle down and in first.

And moving towards faen in a week? (A WEEK?!) (UM.) For Top to bag commit to Mew -- a virgin! -- that quickly, particularly in the face of the conversation he had previously had with Boston about getting with Mew in the first place: what's Top's ultimate priority here, as well? Top's going to commit to someone he hasn't slept with yet? Color me surprised. What, to show up Boston? Is that how playas play? I dunno, we'll see. I'm not sure that Boston is a strong enough reason. Maybe there's a male-toxicity-driven shallange that's coloring this narrative, but I'll wait to find out more.

Other quick thoughts: what's the source of Ray's pain that's driving him to multiple and regular black-outs? What's Sand so tired of? (Family strife, poverty, rich kids, etc. -- what's happening there). What's up with Cheum, Mew, and Boston leaving Ray to stumble to his car alone -- especially now that it's clear that he has a pattern of blacking out and showing up to school hungover?

I don't want to project, but I'm gonna: this is a hell of a heavy drinking crew, partying QUITE hard and regularly. If Jojo's previous references to at least Gay OK Bangkok stand, I'm wondering if one overarching commentary/lesson we're going to get out of Only Friends is -- escaping to the bottle is not the best way to mitigate yours or anyone else's issues. We know he's framed shows around health issues before, GOKB and The Warp Effect as the most prominent. Let's see.

Speaking of Gay OK Bangkok, I offer another OF clown checkpoint: in my review of GOKB, I posited that Pom of GOKB and Shin of 3 Will Be Free are avatars of a very similar character style -- virgins, glasses-wearing, and unassumingly wiley in their ability to survive in a competitive world. I think Mew joins that avatar crew, but in a much more insidious fashion. Let's see. I love that Jojo is playing around with this style.

One more clown checkpoint I'm gonna put out there is that Jojo and Ninew do not let the recent Thai political turmoil escape this show. I don't know HOW it'll even work, but I have my eyes sharply peeled, because the political craziness was going down literally as they were filming the show. We'll see -- I'll likely be wrong, but ya never know.

I think that's it! I LOVE Jennie, I can't wait to see Nonnie, and Drake -- welcome back to the boys, my friend. This episode was fantastic, but by FAR the best part about yesterday was seeing the filmmakers go totally insane on social media, hyping their work and their people -- damn. When the artists KNOW what they made is good, then that's just like, it's cookies for us. Jojo and Den are out there replying to fans, and it’s just awesome. What a ride already!

[turtledoodle]

Trans Slider Pains

Originally posted this on ao3, but thought I'd post it here too!

It's essentially "writer suffer from period and makes blue turtle do the same."

Please enjoy this little one-shot

TCEST DNI//WARNING: Small mention of blood and/or cramps

It had been a regular day for Leo, stopping crime, eating pizza, teasing his brothers, and ignoring his definitely not trauma's and insecurities.

Totally a normal day.

Until his period hit.

And by the pizza supreme in the sky, it hurt like hell and was embarrassing as hell when it hit.

He had been in a fight with a worm thing that he seriously couldn’t remember the name of. No, seriously, what was his name again? Just winging his katanas and throwing out quips here and there until he felt something trickle down his leg and both him and the worm thing, apparently his name was Warren Stone, or at least that what he said his name was, stopped. “What the…?” he quietly asked himself as he felt more of that trickling feeling.

Leo looked down for a moment, thinking it was sweat or water, only to be met with blood. He thought he had gotten a cut and looked for said cut, only for the agony of cramps to hit, causing him to heal over in pain. “Oh, holy fuck…that fuckin hurts…” He whispered in absolute agony, and it seemed Warren figured out what happened and backed off.

"Hey, uh- other turtles I think your annoying blue brother's monthly bill has hit-” Warren quickly said before squiggling away as he and Hypno bolted away.

The realization hit Leo like a ton of bricks; his fucking period started in the middle of battle, in front of two villains, and his black shorts were most definitely ruined. He, with a very, very ticked-off smile, practically screamed “FUCK” towards the sky so loudly that even Gram Gram Karai heard him.

His eldest brother came rushing over in a very frenzied worry, "Leo, are you good? Ya need Raph to carry ya back to the lair?” 

He asked, but didn’t wait for a replay as he scooped up Leo in his arms, with Mikey practically scaling up Raph's shell and perching on Raph's shoulder in a concerned manner, with Donnie hovering over them all with his goggles down as if studying the situation.

“Raph. It’s fine. He’s not gonna die.” his twin explained in his typical monotone manner, typing something out on his tech gauntlet as Raph seemed to calm down slightly as he carried Leo back to the lair as if both Leo and Mikey weighed nothing to him, which they didn’t.

Mikey craned his neck down to observe the ball shape his older brother curled into while clutching his abdomen in pain with worry before suddenly getting an idea. He pressed his hands on Leo’s stomach and used his powers to heat his hands up, acting like a living heating pad. Leo’s muscles tensed up even more before relaxing as he let out a breath he’d been holding in since the first wave of cramps hit.

“Thanks Miguel…", He whispered out with relief in his voice as he unfurled from the ball shape he was in, which seemed to calm Mikey’s nerves, and he smiled calmly back.

“Not a problem, Leo; just glad you're not curled up in a ball anymore.”

When they all arrive back at the lair, Leo can at least stand and walk a bit without feeling pain, which he uses to his advantage as he practically waddles his way into the bathroom, ignoring his twin’s trying to hide his giggles that stemmed from seeing him have to waddle around, and changed into some more comfortable clothing, putting on a pad in the process and ignoring the weird feeling of it knowing it would pass, all the while throwing his blood-stained black shorts into a laundry basket to be washed later.

He waddled out of the bathroom and back to his room in his train car. He flopped down on his bed and curled up under his cover, retracting into his shell to hopefully ignore the crippling pain in his abdomen again. Only then was he interrupted by someone plopping more blankets on top of him. He poked his head out of his shell and wasn’t too surprised to see Raph there with his brothers in tow. Mikey climbed under the blankets and nuzzled up into his side beak first with some snacks and cuffs.

Leo huffed with amusement and nuzzled the top of his head before poking his arms out of his shell to gently grab one of the homemade snacks Mikey and Donnie whipped up, the warmth from the freshly made food and treats helping to soothe the pain internally. 

Speaking of his older twin, Donnie crawled under next, flopping himself on Leos side with a low hiss while using Leo's shell as a pillow, his webbed, clawed hands snaked over his shell, the warm hands also helping to soothe the cramps, plus the weight on his shell was oddly soothing as well. Donnie had handed him some Tylenol and Midol before he flopped his arms over Leo's shell comfortably with another soft hiss. 

And finally, Raph, ever so hesitantly, crawled under the blankets with his brothers, curling around them like a mother cat would with her kittens. Leo snuggled under Raph's arms with a churr, which surprised the snapping turtle, as Leo always tended to be a little…grouchy on his periods, but Raph simply pushed the thought away and held him and his two other younger brothers close with a low rubbing, almost purr like sound.

All three of them would be here to comfort Leo through anything. And they intended to always do that with each other as they were brothers.

And brothers stick together till the very end.

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I hoped you enjoyed this!

I've really been working on my writing style since my last fic, and I hope this Oneshot shows it!