#I’ve also got quite a few other OCs

[leyline-legionnaire]

Figured it’s about time I post some stuff on this blog, so here’s some art.

Say hi to my two commanders!

Austa is my main Commander, she’s mostly blind (to be explained later) and has been the one trudging through most of the happenings in the story.

Moka is more of a secondary Commander who helps out when Austa is busy with other threats, though they’ve gotten into their own share of trouble (also to be explained later)

[explicit-tae]

ik it would be very out of character but i’d LOVE to see ungodly hour’s jk react to oc admitting she likes (or loves 🫣) him!! knowing him he’d cry

thank you for your amazing work !!!! ly<3

honestly let me just write about it

Ungodly Hour

Word Count: 3.413

Warning: dirty talking, oral sex (f), alcohol intake, intoxicated/unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, overstimulation, riding, love confessions,

“Okay,” Jungkook enters the living room hastily as you arrive, a gift bag in your hand. “I finally finished it.”

“You know you didn’t have to make me wait until you were done.” you tell Jungkook as you sit on the couch. “I’ve had the gift for weeks now.”

“We couldn’t exchange gifts until mine was complete.” Jungkook says.

Jungkook had insisted on waiting to exchange gifts. You knew he was making you something - he kept it hidden in an extra bedroom that he locked to assure you didn’t peek. He also refused to look at whatever gift you got him and prompted that you take it out the house so he himself would be tempted. 

“Well,” you hold out the gift bag - it’s medium sized and a sparkly blue. “Merry Christmas.”

Jungkook notes that you’re nervous as he takes the bag and he isn’t sure why. He would be happy with whatever you gave him - even if he was surprised initially that you told him you got him a gift. He would often think about what it was.

Jungkook opens the gift bag and takes out the rectangular box. He sees the bottom first - it’s a solid yellow color. He flips it around to inspect it, the rest of the sides being black. His eyes capture the name on the top of the box. His eyes widened. 

“Y/N…?”

Now Jungkook understands why you’re nervous. His eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “This camera is expensive!” he gasps. “How did you know-”

“I saw it on your wishlist.” you say, licking your lips. “When you let me borrow your laptop, you left a few tabs open.”

You weren’t going to admit that you were snooping for answers. Jungkook seemingly had everything there was to get and buying a gift for him was becoming difficult. 

Jungkook opens the box gently, his eyes softening at the camera. “You must’ve spent a lot on it…” he says, trailing off. He knows the exact price and knowing that you spent thousands on a gift for him pulls at his heart strings. “Thank you.”

You give Jungkook a smile. “I can finally quit my job now that I’ve spent a few checks on a gift.” you say, joking with Jungkook to lighten the mood. 

“You can!” Jungkook smiles back with a nod.

“Just kidding.” you sing-song. “Don’t be so gullible.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and snorts. He places the camera beside him. “Always teasing me with a good time.” he murmurs. “Now for yours.”

Jungkook had wrapped the canvas neatly. It’s a decent size, you noticed, maybe 11 inches all around. Your heart is beating with anticipation as you unwrap it.

Jungkook awaits your reaction, his own nerves hiking. “Do you…like it?” he murmurs. You haven’t said anything and instead have been analyzing the painting silently, expression unreadable.

The painting is full of life, emotion. The scenery is what you initially noted, a mountain of flowers that seemingly went on for miles by the way Jungkook had painted it. The flowers are colorful, different shades of yellow, orange and pink. The sky holds bright gray clouds, covering the sun that appears to be setting. What captures your attention fully are the hands. Both pairs of hands are connected by the pinky with one wrist sporting a gold watch and the other a bracelet while the arms are painted to appear out of the canvas frame.

“This is us.” you say aloud, glancing up at Jungkook. It was a picture you and he had taken a few weeks back. You recall telling Jungkook that it was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together that didn’t showcase faces. 

Jungkook nods. “It is.” he agrees. “You said it was your favorite picture so I painted it.”

Your throat tightens at his words.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook, you think, because this was entirely too much for you to handle. Your mother didn’t raise a weak woman who felt like she was seconds away from crying tears because of how happy she felt.

You blame it on your period that must be nearing - even if you never cry on your period. 

“Thank you.” you murmur to Jungkook, glancing away shyly to avoid his gaze. “I love it.” you say sincerely, and the admission causes Jungkook to smile.

“You’re d-drunk.” Jungkook snorted before full on laughing as you stumbled through his bedroom door.

“Fuck you.” you retort, plopping yourself down onto Jungkook’s large bed. “So are you.” you slur back.

Jungkook doesn’t deny it.

This is what happens when you drink with friends - more importantly, Jimin. It was nothing new, Jimin always insisted on going into the new year buzzed - this time, they all just went a little overboard. Luckily, Jungkook had agreed for the party to be at his apartment so he could just walk down the hall to his bedroom.

Of course, Jungkook would soon come to regret it because that meant that he would have to clean the mess they made in the morning - but you were with him, so that was a plus.

“Not as drunk as you.” Jungkook closes the door behind him, along with the loud music and laughter of everyone just down the hall in his living room. “Told you to not challenge Jimin.”

“Fuck Jimin…” you murmur to yourself, more so because Jungkook was right.

However, you wouldn’t say you challenged Jimin - he was the one who came to you with a whole cup of alcohol declaring that you were, in his words, too much of a coward to drink.

It was a complete set up, Jungkook knows this, but the only thing he could do was assure you had water and a lot of greasy food ready for when you were going to need it - and luckily he was there to do so. You’re sure you would’ve been passed out long ago.

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, an attempt to get a look at your lying figure. You and he had matched tonight - an idea that was yours. You wore a long sleeved-black dress with a deep v cut that stopped mid thigh while he wore a compressed black shirt (by your request ) and ripped jeans. 

“Do you need to throw up?” Jungkook asks, stumbling  closer to you when he hears a low moan-like whine. “I told you not to drink so-“

“Shut up,” you sit up and look directly at Jungkook. “Can I sit on your face?” 

Jungkook stops in his tracks, his doe eyes widening slightly. Yes is what he wants to say - he loves the act of pleasuring you. However, he’s unsure if he should be doing anything with you in your intoxicated state. 

“You’re drunk-“

“We’re drunk.” you correct, eyes narrowing at him - and also focusing on him all of the same because the room was still spinning. 

“True.” Jungkook murmurs to himself, trailing off. “Still, I don’t want to take advantage-“

“Save the theatrics, Kookie.” you’re already tugging your underwear off, the lacy material falling right by his bed. “Unless you…”

You don’t finish your sentence and Jungkook titls hisnhead. “What?”

“…unless you suddenly don’t like me anymore.” you whisper, and slowly, your eyes widen as if you had figured out the biggest secret. No other world conspiracy was important - not the Bermuda triangle, not whoever the fuck Jack the Ripper is or whether if Atlantis was ever real. No, not even your favorite cold cases could be as important as this new revelation of Jeon Jungkook not liking you anymore. 

“Now you’re extremely drunk .” Jungkook cackles. “Of course I like you!”

It brings Jungkookk back to when you were convincing him that you liked him, now it was the other way around. His heart swells with your drunken ramblings and overall cute appearance. 

“You don’t.” You cross your arms over your chest. “You refuse to have me sit on your face.” you say, and Jungkook realizes that he truly spoils you like everyone claims he does - you never got told no to mainly anything. 

“So who gets to sit on your face?” you ask with narrow eyes. “I bet-“

“Don’t say that girl's name.” Jungkook cuts you off before you can get started. “You know you’re my girl, Y/N.”

“So you hate me.” you deadpan, saying the words matter-of -factly. “All of a sudden you aren’t obsessed-“

“I am!” Jungkook interrupts, raising his voice. He couldn’t believe that this was a conversation that needed to be had and if he remembered this sober, it’s something he was definitely going to tease you about. 

“Hm.” you uncross your arms and stand to your feet. “I'm going to go party with Jimin.” 

Jungkook steps in front of you. “You aren’t wearing any underwear.” he states. “That and you’re already had enough to drink-“

“If you aren’t going to fuck me,” you wave your hand in his face to stop his speech. “then I’m going to go out there and drink with Jimin.”

If Jimin knew that he was the person that would be used against him it would cause ultimate chaos in the groupchat and in his friend group. 

Jungkook licks his lips. He doesn’t have time to entertain his and your friends any longer. He can only imagine how it would look if he chased after you because you wanted to be drunk and petty. The room is already spinning for him as it is for you and he knows that it wouldn’t be a good idea. 

“You’re such a bitch…” Jungkook murmurs, tone low. It’s a tone that you’re all too familiar with - and you know that you had Jungkook where you wanted him. “Get on the bed.”

You do as you’re told, laying on Jungkook’s bed and open your legs, dress hiking up entirely. 

Jungkook drops to his knees and hooks his hands beneath your thighs. You yelp when he snatches you closer to him. His lips place themselves onto your inner thigh and he presses a kiss. “I spoil you too much.”

Jungkook kisses closer and closer to your heat and he does so to tease you. “You looked so good tonight.” He couldn’t help but cave, wanting to give you whatever you wanted of him. 

Fingernails dig into your skin as Jungkook speaks against your skin. 

“You did, too.” you hitch your breath when you feel Jungkook's lips directly against your clit. 

Jungkook kisses it gently. “Thank you, baby. So needy.”

Your back arches when you feel it, wet tongue sliding directly up your clit. He dips it between your folds, holding you directly still so he can pleasure you like you desperately wanted him to. 

Eyes flickering up, Jungkook grunts. So beautiful, he always thinks of you. You couldn’t help but grow spoiled because he never told you no for anything. However, it wasn’t something he could help - you don’t ask for much to begin with.

The room continues to spin, but you no longer care. Your body erupts with arousal and it clouds your being entirely. You should’ve never drunk as much as you did, but there was no taking back the past. Besides, you cannot remember being filled with lust when you would drink prior - you’re unsure why you appear so insatiable.

“Feels so good, Kookie.” you moan, hips buckling against the rhythm of his tongue. The top half of the dress constricts your body entirely and you cannot wait until you can get out of it. “So, so good.”

Jungkook's eyes are as dark as can be and he’s positive he is a man starved right now. The alcohol runs through his system and causes his movement to be sloppy, but capable. His tongue completely savors your arousal, suckling on your clit to dipping between your folds and now, plunging it inside of you entirely.

“You must want me to fuck you.” Jungkook disclosed. “Your pussy’s clenching around nothing.”

How correct Jungkook was and you’re far from sober, so there was no snarky remark for you to retort with. You were beyond your regular self - you weren’t going to deny anything because you truly, desperately wanted Jungkook.

Your sober self would surely be screaming at you when your intoxication wore off.

Jungkook would lean back a bit every few minutes, his lips and chin fully coated in you. His tongue would still be flicking against your swollen clit and he’s truly doing this as an act to tease you further. He likes when your breath - that you’d be holding - would release when he gave you a bit of a teasing break, all before he devoured you once more.

“Kookie,” you moan Jungkook’s name so lovingly - it’s hard not to want to be between your legs for hours. His hand is bruising the skin of your thigh to hold you against his tongue. “wanna cum.”

Jungkook’s eyes stare into yours, a silent telepathic moment that tells you that he wasn’t stopping you from cumming. But he is also not a fool when it comes to you or your body and soon, you feel your pussy - so greedy to be stuffed and full - stretched out with his fingers.

Jungkook loves your whimpering and moaning - more so when you don’t hide them from his ears. There’s a party right outside his door where people are all huddling to celebrate the new year, and here the two of you were forgetting about them entirely. 

Jungkook plunges his fingers deep inside of you. He hits the familiar sweet spot he knows so well, your thighs quivering in the process. His tongue licks circles around your clit, fingerings thrusting rhythmically. Your moans bounces off the walls and louder than the muffled music in the background.

Jungkook doesn’t mind when your hands grip his hair tightly because he just knows that you’re going through it - and he has no intention of stopping until you’re cumming on his tongue. It’s close, he notes, the way your walls are clenching around his fingers greedily and your cries grow louder and louder in contrast to the way your fingers grips into his hair.

Jungkook allows you to ride against your own high, laying his tongue flat against your clit and allowing you to grind against his tongue, fingers plunging deep inside of you. Your high comes hard, body twitching and Jungkook allows it all to happen, determined to make sure you are satisfied completely before he stops.

You feel dizzy when your high slowly comes down, your forehead lined with sweat and your body completely flushed. Your body molds itself against Jungkook’s soft sheets, your breathing slowing down.

“Where are you going…?” you ask Jungkook when you no longer feel his presence before you. Your eyes flutter open. 

“Nowhere.” Jungkook responds sincerely. “We should get you out of this dress for bed-”

“Bed?” your senses peak and you jolt upright, eyes narrowed once more. “I want to ride you first.”

Jungkook snorts and stumbles back a bit at your sudden action. “You’ve already came so hard, baby. Are you sure-”

You aren’t listening to Jungkook in the slightest. You’re tugging the dress off of you entirely and getting naked right before his eyes. 

Jungkook is but a man and there isn’t much convincing he needs - especially not when you’re tugging him towards you needily. You connect your lips to his while pushing him against the bed. Jungkook loves how needy you are - how much you express that you want him. Of course, he knows that you do any other time - but this time it’s different; getting to witness just how much you want him is a feeling he never knew he craved.

Your fingernails dig into Jungkook’s clothed shoulders as you slowly feel him inside of you. You push him backwards so that he’s laying on the bed, your hips rising and falling.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, hands firmly on your hips. You’re going so fast, fully determined to cum once more - and Jungkook couldn’t be upset. Your face displays just how good you felt in this moment. “your pussy feels so good, baby.”

Your pussy clenches around Jungkook as if responding to his words. By the time the pair of you were done, you were going to be bruised entirely with Jungkook’s hand marks. 

Jungkook finds it hard to look at you - not when you looked so completely fucked out and beautiful. He’s unsure where your stamina appeared - maybe you were just that fucked out and drunk; that you didn’t care that you were overstimulating yourself (and him). 

Jungkook clenches his eyes shut to get the image of you out of his head, but all it does is follow him in his thoughts. Your naked figure using him to pleasure yourself, your bouncing breast to your creaming pussy dripping all over him and making a complete mess.

Jungkook is so hot - so beautiful himself. He’s hissing to himself with clenched eyes, experiencing pure bliss just as you were. His forehead is covered in sweat and a few strands of hair are sticking to it. 

Jungkook feels a hand upon his cheek and his eyes open. They're so dark and full of lust - similar to your own. Your eyes connect to his and Jungkook swallows, adam’s apple bobbing.

“Drunk Y/N is so needy.” Jungkook jokes, voice deep and raspy. “Drunk actions are sober intentions.”

Jungkook begins to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm. His thrusts are brutal, fully determined to satiate your hunger for him. His eyes never leave yours, the pair of you stuck in an intimate, lust-filled moment.

“I-I’m gonna cum again!” you mewl, breaking eye-contact first to shut them tight. The familiar sensation bubbles into you again and Jungkook only fucks into you harder, pounding with all his might; how the both of you could be drunk and full of stamina is beyond him.

Your walls are squeezing around Jungkook and within seconds, your juices squirt around Jungkook entirely, fully coating his abdomen. “I-I-” Your body is twitching, your head pushed back when Jungkook hears your words. “I love you.”

Jungkook is still for a moment, completely silent. He’s contemplating if he heard you correctly and before he can speak, you repeat yourself. “I love you.” it’s low and a bit slurred, but Jungkook hears it entirely.

“You’re drunk.” Jungkook laughs it off, cheeks flushed and heart beating out his chest. He doesn’t want to call you a liar - you wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true. However, you’re drunk and maybe you meant to say you loved the way he was fucking you -

“Shut up,” you say, walls tightening on Jungkook’s cock. “I do love you.”

You yelp when you feel your back hit the soft mattress, all without Jungkook removing himself from inside of you. The room continues to spin for you two, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. 

“You’re going to forget you said that.” Jungkook begins to thrust, holding you close in his embrace. “Gonna deny it until the end of time.”

“I love you.” you repeat and Jungkook’s pounding only increases. Skin slapping echoes off the wall and the two of you are so entranced in the moment that neither of you notice the music dying down outside the room. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Jungkook whimpers with a shake of his head. His thoughts are consumed by your words - the love confession. 

Jungkook could never get tired of hearing it and at this moment, you don’t get tired of saying it. You repeat it over and over again as Jungkook continues to fuck inside of you. You’re creaming his cock, a white ring forming around the shaft and Jungkook couldn’t get enough of you.

I love you.

I love you.

You love him, Jungkook’s thrilled at the revelation. His head drops back as his body tenses up, his thrust becoming sloppy. “Say it again, baby.” he pleads with a choked whimper. He needed to hear you say it again, as selfish as it was - he’s unsure how long it’d be before he could hear it again.

“Fuck,” your pussy is seeping with arousal and staining his sheets, your clit swollen and pulsing. “I love you, Kookie.”“Oh, shit…I love you, too, baby.” Jungkook continues to stretch your pussy completely until he’s shooting hot cum directly inside of you, a hand directly on your stomach as he does so. He’s panting, the both of you covered in sweat and bodily fluids.

[morgaseus]

I’ve encountered a few on AO3 but I too am desperate for more Gojo fics anywhere 😭 if you have any recommendations too please I beg give some to meee 😭😭

Ohhh yesss ive got quite a few! Also, please look out for the content warnings!

Series

Sincerely not by saintobios (arranged marriage, modern au) (read this yrs ago so i cant remember much but i do remember crying at 10 pm in the kitchen while reading this)

Sundered by tojikai (baby daddy gojo, modern au)( made me sob )

Kintsugi by NoahLaval (arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, gojo x oc) (I love this! made me cry a lot, like really..)

No Cure by Tawus (enemies to lovers, reader is a curse user)

Exposure therapy by seoafin (angst, reader is in the same year as sashisu, au where toji became a teacher, also a geto/reader, but shoko is the endgame)(you should check out their other works too!)

Monster Hospital by mushmoon12 (enemies/rivals to lovers, lots of smut)

intrinsic warmth by thatdesklamp (angst, childhood friends to lovers)(yeah...)

Cursed Love by maespaces (angst, reader is a not a jujutsu sorcerer )(i forgot to add this!😭😭😭 but srsly tho rllylove this one, vry well written! im still reading it but u can tell ure in for a bumpy ride🥹)

Oneshots

Grey Cashmere by vagabond-umlaut (angst with a happy end, set during hidden inventory, reader is in the same year as sashisu)(one of my all time faves!!! its also part of a series but can be read as a standalone!)

an unwanted letter by piichuu (angst, post ch 236?ig?)(i read this during class... i just hope my classmates didnt see me cry)

Others. (I have not read this yet but ive been keeping an eye on it! Thought i might share as well)

Infidelity by tawus (angst, gojo and reader are married)

one day, three autumns by vagabond-umlaut (arranged marriage)

Minazuki by quirklessidiot (enemies to lovers, arranged marriage)

Devoted by aerinth (angst, friends to lovers)(also a geto/reader)

the color yellow by rhydonium (angst, hanahaki disease)(also a geto/reader)

Bonus!

Abalone on the shore by unolvrs (I dont rlly read much toji fics but this one made me sob on a morning! You'll need tissues for this one ig...😞)

[miaowitch]

What Makes a Date? (18+)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Read on Ao3 or below !!

Sam (SDV) / Fem! Farmer OC

cw ⋆｡‧˚♡ swearing, smut, porn with plot, grinding over clothes, blowjobs, cumming without warning, sam pov, sams a loser?, canon/oc

summary ⋆｡‧˚♡

Sam has two tickets to his favorite band, but none of his friends want to come with him. What does he do instead? Ask the farmer on a totally platonic outing, just as friends with no underlying feelings! Everything should go according to plan, especially the part where he ends up in her house! Right?

5k words

Sam found himself in an odd situation. Two tickets to a concert in Zuzu City, two busy friends, and one available farmer. He’d been talking with Bella for a few months. Every time she came around he couldn’t help feeling like his heart would burst from his chest alien-style, but all in all he tried his hardest to be normal around her. Even if he’d written hundreds of scrapped melodies about her, even if he dreamt of her constantly, even if he wanted her laugh as his alarm clock. Samuel Neilson was a normal 20-year-old who could have hot friends. 

He’d been a fan of the band JamPot since middle school, and he figured Sebastian and Abigail would’ve died hearing about the tickets. They were all massive fans in fact, they’d discovered them together on YouTube in fact. Sure, he could only take one, but Sebastian rarely left his house anyway. Abigail was his backup plan for concerts most times, he just liked extending the offer to Seb. Abigail would never turn down the option to go to a concert without paying. 

He decided to ask them both on their weekly pool night, Sebastian was riding on his first win of the night and Abigail was lounging on the couch closest to the table. Sam thumbed the tickets in his pocket before working up the courage to ask, “Hey uh-” He started, pulling out the envelope. “Either of you wanna go with me to see JamPot on Saturday?” Sam’s hopeful tone was instantly crushed by their simultaneous rejection. “Sorry, Sammy. I’ve got plans on Saturday.” Abigail finally looked up from her phone to look at his defeated expression. “Yeah, I’ve gotta catch up on work. It wouldn’t be smart to..” Sebastian had just finished setting up the next game, but Sam couldn’t care less. “Whaat?” Sam whined out, leaning on the pool stick now. “I spent 50 on the other ticket, just hoping one of you’d tag along!” 

Sebastian, as if he was unbothered by his friend's distress, just rolled his eyes in response. “Just ask Bella.” Beginning the match by hitting the cue ball, managing to hit a solid color into a corner pocket. Sam stood dumbfounded. He didn’t want to go alone, but he also didn’t know if Bella would even agree to the…date? Would it be a date? He pondered for a minute before Sebastian cleared his throat in frustration. “You’re stripes, now play the fucking game, dude.”

The rest of the night, Sam was in a sort of daze, wondering if he was even close enough to the farmer to ask her to a concert. What if she rejected him, thinking it was a date? What if he wanted it to be a date? After his…circumstances with Penny, he wasn’t sure if he should even try to make a move. Walking out of the pub at 11, he was still thinking about Sebastian’s suggestion. Abigail waved goodbye, the one sober member of the group. Sam was slumped on Sebastian’s shoulder, the two held each other up with drunk motivation. “Can I..” Sam sighed, tossing his head back. “Just take me to your basement, Sebby.” He didn’t plan on drinking so much, but he knew his mom would kill him if he walked in wasted. “Whatev’r…” Sebastian slurred back, as he lead Sam around the corner to the mountain path. 

Sam didn’t quite remember how he’d gotten to Sebastian’s house. He woke up with a twinging headache, sprawled on the rug next to Sebastian’s bed. An old throw blanket was tossed over top of his body, but no pillow. His mouth was dry, lips cracked slightly as he pried them apart. “Seb…” He groaned, his voice was dangerously hoarse. Clearing it, he called once more as he sat up. “Seb. Get up.” Sam reached up to push at Sebastian’s sleeping back, but only received an angry groan in return. Being friends with Sebastian for so long, he understood that groan as a rejection to waking up.

Sam decided to just leave on his own, his mother was probably concerned about the fact that he hadn’t even come home. The alarm clock on Sebastian’s bedside read off [11:00 am]. He sighed, searching for his shirt that had been thrown off in the night. Picking himself up from the floor, he grabbed his phone, found his shirt, and slipped on his laceless shoes. Hobbling up the stairs was the hardest part, with stiff joints it was hard to even walk a straight line.

“Hello, Sam!” Robin announced to the house as Sam emerged from the basement. He winced at her volume, but still put on a smile. “Hey, Robin, sorry I crashed last night.” Sam adjusted the faded band shirt, hoping she couldn’t tell he’d been half naked two seconds prior. “Seb’s still asleep downstairs, I don’t know if he’s getting up any time soon.” He rubbed the back of his neck, anxious that Robin could still smell the alcohol. She didn’t seem to catch on, laughing softly. “Oh, Sam, you don’t have to apologize for staying over.” She sat back in the chair behind the front counter. “You two always stay up so late at night, at least you’re having fun.” 

Sam said his goodbyes, walking out the front door and closing it silently for the sake of his aching head. He took a deep breath, feeling around in his pocket for his phone to text his mom that he was headed home. Instead, Sam found the tickets that cursed him. “Fuck.” He muttered to himself, but apparently not quiet enough. Bella was rounding the corner at that very moment. 

“Fuck what?” She appeared with a sly, teasing smile. Sam felt his throat tighten up. “Me?” He replied with a violent voice crack. Sam couldn't help feeling like an ass when Bella was around. Something about her jet black hair, piercing blue eyes, and….assets? He didn't want to disrespect her, she was a nice friend. Why would he talk about her like that? He respected her too much. 

Bella laughed, harmoniously (to Sam). While covering her smile, which killed Sam, she dropped it after her giggles. A happy sigh escaped her, straightening up to really get a good look at him. “You look rough.” Bella spoke with almost a hinge of concern, looking him up and down. Sam had been so caught up in overthinking, he forgot completely about why he had been overthinking. “Rough? Yeah, I guess I feel the same too.” His hand nervously rubbed at his neck, Sam had a habit of doing it. “A-Actually I had a question for you!” Bella cocked her head, Sam felt his stomach toss. 

Bella was a girl who loved music. It was her and Sam’s first conversation. Wearing an old TilledSoil shirt, a band Sam had seen upwards of 10 times. After their hour of conversation on their favorite bands, Sam deemed Bella to be cool. He knew she would agree to going to a free concert with him, but was he even confident enough to ask her out? “What’s up?” Bella asked, now actually concerned for Sam. He’d been clutching the tickets for the entire time. The ticket envelope crumpled in his grip. “Do you wanna go to a concert with me- If you’re not busy or- or anything.” He felt like a total ass. 

There was no reason for her to actually reject him, but every bone in his body was cringing out. Standing in front of his best friend’s house, asking someone to go on a maybe-date. If Sebastian had been awake, he’d be instantly cooked. “What band?” Bella spoke up to break the internal panic that fogged his brain. That and the hangover headache. “JamPot!” Sam blurted out, making his headache come back with a vengeance. “They’re just…some dumb pop punk band from overseas.. I just have another ticket!” Yet she was already smiling, “JamPot? I don’t think I’ve listened to them since middle school!” Pulling out her phone, she looked back up at him. “When’s the show?”

Sam seemingly forgot every single detail about the show in that very minute. After frantically opening the envelope to look at the tickets, he looked back up. “Tomorrow, doors at 7?” Bella then started looking through her phone for a moment. “I’ll drive too! All you gotta do is tag along!” Sam wasn’t trying to beg, but god, he just didn’t want to waste the money. She looked back up with a smile, “Deal, I’m free to go tomorrow.” Stammering to himself for a moment, Sam finally got out a sentence. “Cool! I’ll pick you up at 6?” Bella agreed, and Sam floated back into town on a high.

Sure, his mom was pissed, and he was slightly late to work. Sam just couldn’t care. He was just really excited to hang out with his friend Bella. There wasn’t anything else lingering there, no matter how many times Sebastian and Abigail brought it up. This was just two really good friends going to hang out at a concert. Getting close, and sweaty…and doing normal friend things. Sam wasn’t going to ruin anything. Surely. 

Sebastian and Abigail heard the ‘news’ from him over a text, both were convinced it was going to end in Sam’s demise. Abigail bet on Bella thinking it was a date, but Sam shut her down immediately. There’s no way Bella would think it was a date. Even as he put a little bit of extra time into getting ready the next day, he was positive that Bella was on the same page as him. After assuring himself that his hair was perfectly quaffed, he headed out to pick up Bella. 

His car was just a hand-me-down from Jodie, her old car from before they’d gotten a family van. Sam wasted a few minutes throwing trash from the passenger to the backseat. Scrambling just to make it to the farm at six. Pelican Town wasn’t the most drivable, but it was still nice to have a car for longer trips. He just hoped it was comfortable enough for Bella. Not that it was a big deal, of course, she was just like every other friend. He just wanted her to enjoy her first ride in his car.

Sam arrived at the farm at 5:52, pulling into the gravel driveway just after he was done freaking out about being late. He fixed his hair in the rearview mirror, fussing over nothing at all. Waiting for just another minute, he was too impatient and honked at the horn once. He didn’t have her number, but he also wasn’t sure if he could just walk up to the front door. What if she thought he was rushing her? At the moment Sam honked– Bella opened her front door. A black cat ran from the house, and Bella locked up the front door. Sam was leaning on the steering wheel, watching her. When she looked at him with a smile, he instantly straightened up. His palms were grossly sweaty, and suddenly he felt underdressed. 

Bella walked to the passenger side of the car. Sam for a moment felt compelled to brush off the seat before she sat down, but still held himself back. Sharing greetings, Sam took a moment to really look at her. Trying to get his breath back, he smiled. “Ready for the show?” Sam managed to get out, gripping the wheel with white knuckles. Bella could probably wear a burlap sack and look good, but her black skinny jeans and cropped tee suited her perfectly. Bella smiled back, buckling in. “You know it.” 

It was hard to pay attention to the road with her in the passenger seat. Bella wasn’t distracting in a bad way, but Sam couldn’t help wondering what the feeling in his gut was. He just didn’t want to mess anything up. The drive wasn’t boring by any means, Bella and Sam talked the whole way there. Bella mentioned listening to JamPot’s new album, and Sam had to hold himself back from gushing about each detail in the chord progressions. But– It wasn’t long until he did start gushing about it. It was really difficult for Sam to not spill every thought around her. Normally, people would just grin and bare it while Sam rambled about music, but Bella listened to him. She seemed like she really was interested, a rare find. The drive and the time spent waiting in line was mostly just the pair talking about shared interests. Finding out she also preferred Hawaiian Pizza was a game changer for him. 

The venue was old. It’d been there since the early 70s, but was still kept up with. High ceilings, low concrete floors and bars located on both sides. It was already halfway packed in, the merch tables weren’t busy either. Small fairy lights decorated the trim of the brick walls, highlighting the merch tables easily. 

When they were actually in the venue, Bella split off to find the merch table while Sam grabbed a spot on the floor. “I’ll see you in a few.” She smiled, softly placing a hand on his upper arm before walking off. Before Sam melted to the sticky concrete, he had to text his friends. Sending a frantic text to Sebastian, Sam felt his head swimming. [ “Is this a date?” ] He typed the words with nervous, shaking thumbs. Sam was wrong, kicking himself in the ass. What if he was in the process of destroying any chance with Bella? What if he did like her more than he was allowing himself? 

[ “Yes.”  ] Sebastian responded, Sam mentally crumbled.

This was the issue with Sam. He didn’t read the room properly, didn’t understand most situations. It’s what ruined a lot of past relationships for him. Bella didn’t seem like she was hating their conversations, but girls were just so confusing to him. During his overthinking, Bella returned. A new beanie on her head, and a CD in her hand. The new JamPot album. “I got this for you, I wasn’t sure if you had it already.” Holding it out to him, Bella had no clue what had been occurring in Sam’s head. “What?! I’ll pay you back, Bella, I swear.” All fear dropped from his mind, her presence was enough for him to stop overthinking. She shook her head, “It’s for the ticket, don’t worry about it.” Bella’s hand touched his arm again. Soothing his anxiety, but slightly raising his blood pressure. 

After each of the two openers, Bella and Sam kept getting closer and closer. The crowd crushed together in excitement, filling the air with the heat of upwards of 200 people. “Are you okay?” Sam spoke up, bending to Bella’s ear just so she could hear him. She responded with a thumbs up, but still moved closer to Sam. Somehow they’d pressed forward to the barricade, in the middle-left. The headliner hadn’t come on yet, but Sam was preparing. His hands were holding the barricade, with Bella standing between them. He knew she’d be fine on her own in the crowd, but he wanted to keep her safe. The crowd had been rough all night, the openers being much heavier than JamPot, but Sam didn’t want her getting crushed against anyone else. 

Music played across the loudspeakers to fill the silence for the crowd during the stage set. The energy throughout the show had made him less high-strung, less worried on the topic of their night. “You’re having fun, right?” Sam asked, again at a higher volume, just so she could hear him. Bella nodded, leaning against the barricade and looking up at him. “Thanks for bringing me, Sam!” She hadn’t been able to stop smiling that night. 

It was honestly rare that Sam had seen her leave the farm. She and Abigail hung out by the mines occasionally, and he’d see her on walks by the water. Sam just rarely saw her doing anything out of Pelican Town in the few months they’d known each other. He liked taking her out, taking her places with him. “N-No problem.” Feeling that same tossing in his stomach, for some reason his face felt hotter. Maybe it was just the room? 

If Sam thought the first half of the show was close quarters, he wasn’t ready for the second half. Pressing up tightly to Bella’s back as she jumped around was the hardest thing Sam had to endure. On one hand, Bella was safe and comfortable at the barricade, while Sam had to get knocked into continuously. On the other, every single movement against Sam’s dick was like the purest form of torture. It’s not like she was grinding into him, but every once in a while they’d make contact when Bella would start jumping around. Gritting his teeth through it, Sam stood strong. Even if he ached, feeling the slightest brush of her hair against him. Her perfume with hints of clove, brushing by him, was his own heaven. The only thing Sam could circle back to at that moment was the original question.

Was it a date? Sam really tried to focus on the band, but how could he? He’d tune in for a song, then get lost in thought, staring at the back of Bella’s head. The end of the show came quicker than he’d been paying attention. The encore was really just one song, then the whole night was over. Sam felt like an ass, once again, for letting his mind wander all night. Walking out of the venue, Sam stayed close behind Bella. He felt like he’d been a weird freak all night, he just watched her. Bella didn’t notice anything, she’d been talking about how great the show was all the way to the car. Sam bantered back, acting as if he had really watched the concert.

After finally making it to the car, everything sort of shifted. Bella felt a little shyer now that they were fully alone. “Um– Sam?” She asked, as Sam put his keys in to start the car. “Yeah, Bella?” He looked over to her, the radio in the car started playing some obnoxious radio song. The CD hadn’t been automatically reading, so he reached up to press the button. “Well, I just wanted to thank you for taking me on this date. I really had a lot of fun with you tonight.” 

Sam froze in place.

Date? It was a Date?

The annoying pop track played its repetitive tune. Sam was staring at Bella with a dumb look on his face. “It was a–?” He managed to catch himself before saying his first thought, “Right– Well, I just thought..” His extended hand toward the stereo retracted, holding the back of his neck to feel at any beads of sweat. “I just thought it was about time, y’know?” A goofy grin cracked on his face, feeling suddenly free of his worries. “Me too..” Bella had been messing with a strand of hair framing her face. “I really appreciate it, Sam. We should really do this again, okay?” She smiled again, softly. The fluorescent lights in the garage gave her an outer glow, a soft halo on her black hair. Sam had to look away before he forgot the route home. 

Still, a sort of tension lingered in the car. They talked like normal, joking about the show. They talked about typical things from the daily special at the saloon, to weather during the week. Sam considered for a moment that he was just being dense, not understanding the palpable pauses between each topic. Bella adjusted in her seat every few minutes, Sam could’ve sworn he caught her looking his way every few minutes. His energy was high from the concert’s atmosphere, so maybe his mind was just working overtime. 

Eventually, though, they made it to Bella’s home. Pulling in the same gravel driveway as a few hours prior. Sitting in silence for a moment, neither truly wanted the night to be over with. Bella finally offered though, “Sam, I think I might have a pizza in the house. If you’re hungry or something..” Bella played with the fabric of her beanie, now clutched in her lap. Her hair was slightly messed up from hat hair, but to Sam, she hardly looked imperfect. 

“Yeah, uh.. I don’t see why not.” Sam turned off the car a little too enthusiastically. Mentally high-fiving himself for making it this far. Considering how the situation started, he didn’t even think he’d be in a car with Bella. Let alone be on a date with Bella. It was only midnight, his mom knew he’d be back late, so Sam didn’t have any reason to say no. 

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I don’t normally have people over..” She apologized, unlocking the door with a set of keys attached to a decorated keychain. Sam figured it would probably be cleaner than his room, and he was right in assumption. Bella was exaggerating. Only a couple of cups laid on the coffee table, a few sweatshirts and jackets were draped on one of the dining room tables, and burnt out candles littered the main living room. “It’s not messy, don’t worry.” Sam made sure to close the door behind him, only slightly jumping when a black cat ran through the house and towards the bedroom. 

Sam quickly followed Bella into the kitchen, where she was staring at the box of frozen pizza branded with JojaMart logos. “Have you had this before?” She asked with a pensive tone, looking over her shoulder and back at Sam standing in the doorway. He felt a knot in his throat. “Please, I think I’ve had every frozen pizza in the Joja aisles.” Sam tried to push past it, leaning on the dining table to keep himself from collapsing. 

“It says it’ll take 30 minutes, can you wait that long?” Bella set the box on the counter and turned to him. It was one of those fancier brands with a rising crust. “I could make us some sandwiches if you’re too tired, I know I’m already keeping you out pretty late..” Her lips pursed in thought, but Sam scrambled. “I-I can wait!” Bella began opening the box, and setting the frozen disk pizza onto the tin tray. Watching her preheat the oven, Sam felt his heart race. Two peers, in a house…alone. Sam hadn’t thought this far ahead. 

Sure, he’d kept a condom in his wallet, but that didn’t mean he just expected to get laid. He wasn’t that cocky. He understood that they were just two friends, fresh off an unexpected date. Two very available people that liked each other a considerable amount. Sam just knew the kind of guy that he was. He wasn’t the type to hold off if he wanted something. And god, did he want Bella. 

She turned around now, unaware of the horrible thoughts in Sam’s brain. He wondered if he should just go home. “Well, we’ve got a 30-minute wait… anything you wanna do while we wait?” Bella took a few steps closer, setting the flannel she was wearing on the kitchen table behind Sam. “You.” He felt tempted to say his desires out loud, but held himself firm. “Oh, I could just watch TV if you want.” He was lying, but it was late. Sam doubted that she was that into him. 

Following Bella into her living room, he took a spot on one end of her blue, velvet couch. Bella placed herself on the other side after getting the remote to her tiny television set. She sat forward, stiff as she tapped through channels, just trying to find something to fill their silence. The tension between the two was thick, Sam just tried to relax. Leaning back in his seat and getting comfortable. It was almost 11 at night, there was nothing to be worried about. As if the notorious early bird farmer Bella would stay up much later than 12. 

A couple of minutes passed, but Bella didn’t seem to relax. Sam kept stealing glances, but each time she would lock eyes with him. Her panic hidden as she looked back to the boring music documentary they landed on. “Are you comfortable?” Sam finally offered, figuring that it was an innocent question. Bella finally looked at him, “Um… Well…” She shifted in her seat, “I guess not, I just can’t rest after concerts..” Bella seemed almost embarrassed, “I just have such a hard time laying down..” 

Sam opened an arm at the instant. “C’mere then, I’ll show you how to relax, Bella.” He didn’t have bad intentions at all. Sebastian was the same way, you had to force him down to get any sleep after going through concert adrenaline. Sam had no problem getting cozy, he just wanted to help her out. 

He was more than surprised when she actually agreed to it, Bella gladly crawled over to lay on his chest. Sam positioned himself to lay along the couch, one hand behind his head to pad the hard arm of the couch. Bella just draped herself on the inside of the couch, pressed onto him, but hardly comfortable. She still felt like she wasn't quite comfortable, so Sam let a hand creep down and rub the space between her shoulders. A sigh released, and Bella let her guard down.

Sam’s hand continued to rub circles around her back, and Bella’s sighs became more frequent. Every shift she’d make against his thigh, every shudder as his hand shifted to her mid-back. He wasn’t sure what he was doing to make her react that way, but he’d always been told he had magic hands when it came to massages. “Are you still comfortable?” He asked again, not sure why he was whispering. Bella could hardly be heard as she softly moaned at his touch. Sam felt himself going insane as their eyes met. Her lashes fluttered, his heart could’ve given out at any time. 

It only took a second for Sam to realize what was actually going on. Bella moved up, now straddling him to the couch. A mere centimeter away from his lips as she felt her own hesitation. “Bella? C-Can we…” Sam started, but Bella cut him off. Their lips met with sparks under Sam’s skin. His hands drifted to her waist, rubbing slow circles with his thumb as their tongues mingled. One of Bella’s hands moved to his hair, lacing together with gelled, blonde strands. Even lightly brushed against his hair almost made him burst, but whatever Bella was doing to him made him weaker to the touch. 

Their kiss broke with Sam panting, holding on tighter with one hand on Bella’s waist. Basically guiding her to grind against the center of his crotch. “Ohhh… Oh god, Bella…” Sam couldn’t help begging for her, what else was he supposed to do with a beautiful woman on his dick? Her hips gyrated, moving forwards and back to tease at his quickly hardening cock. 

It’d been too long for Sam. He didn’t fool around as much as he had before Bella came to town, but she was enough to dedicate his life to a monogamous relationship. “Y-You’re so fucking good, holy shit…” He gasped as her hands trailed up his chest. Holding herself firm as she now stopped and held herself up. Moving down, she positioned herself between his legs. Sam propped himself up, sweaty and confused. Watching Bella lay on her stomach with a determined look in her eyes, she understood her intentions as she unbuckled his checkered belt. Her soft hands pulled down blue checkered boxers, taking in everything slowly. 

Sam’s ears were burning hot, he threw his head back to avoid her seeing his embarrassment. Bella, on the other hand, slid her hand around his cock with love. Licking her lips with anticipation as she took it all in. Gently kissing the blushing head of his cock, leaking precum and begging for more. Sam writhed under her, missing her lips after every sweet peck down the shaft. He begged, desperate for something that wasn’t a teasing kiss. Bella listened, smiling devilishly as she swept her long black hair behind her. 

Bella’s hands firmly stayed on Sam’s hips, making sure he wasn’t bucking too hard. Her mouth wrapped around him warmly, lowering slowly to halfway, then bobbing back up. “S-Shit..” Sam cursed, biting his lip to stop from exclusively swearing. His right hand gripped at the back of the couch, while his left hand trailed to Bella’s head. Softly petting as she moved with intention. Her big eyes looking up as if she wasn’t melting him with each move she made. 

“B-Bella slow down, Please-” She bobbed faster, and stopped teasing him. His hand now gripped in her hair, inky black strands lacing between his fingers. “Fuck- Fuck, you’re so good to me, Wh-” Sam’s rambling was cut short by his body near folding from her mouth hitting the base of his cock. Sam wasn’t monstrously lengthy, but he was still slightly longer than average. Aside from the fact that he wasn’t getting very many blowjobs, he’d just assumed deepthroating didn’t exist. Tortuously, she moved her mouth up, with her tongue pressed to the bottom of his shaft. Sam couldn’t keep his mouth closed. A mixture of her name, whimpering, and swears poured out as she worked her head up and down. His head pounded, a whooshing in his ears grew louder.

Without warning her, Sam crumpled under her. Cumming into her mouth, now holding onto her head gently to keep her still. Bella moaned, the vibrations only making him moan out louder as he bottomed out. She pulled herself off as his hands fell, a quiet ‘pop’ broke the humming in his head. As she got up and left towards the kitchen. He’d realized the timer started going off when Sam heard the creaking of her oven door. “Bella?” Sam called out, almost missing her after she left the room. A second later, Bella’s head peeked around the wall of the kitchen. “Do you still want pizza?” She acted like she hadn’t just been on his cock, like she still couldn’t taste him in her throat. 

“No, I think I want something else.” He propped himself up, smiling back at her. 

[whitehotwild]

OKAY!!! so these are the ex!butcher x reader/OC(?) x logan headcanons/sort of a prologue/brief outline of the story!

AN: PLEASE let me know if you'd rather read a 'x reader' story or an ‘OC x reader’ story!!!!

OKAY!!! so this will read like a canon divergence AU (aurbviously).

Butcher was never on the brink of fucking DYING from temp v, he never killed Victoria and he never got powers.

BUT he is spiraling, that mean part of his brain (kessler) has just sort of taken over and made him kinda lose grip on what actually matters, Butcher wants everyone with powers dead, but especially Homelander.

(I’ve kinda been thinking about actually making this post Homelander death, and THEN Butcher spirals way way way out of control wanting basically a superhuman genocide, let me know what you think about that)

ALSO, Supes and Mutants exist as two separate things in this universe. Supes came after Mutants because Frederick Vought realized that these superpowered beings could be capitalized upon, but he knew if he used mutants they might end up rebelling, so going about making his own Superhumans was a safer option in his mind. Mutants are born, Supes are made.

Mutants distance themselves from Supes, knowing they usually end up being more trouble than they’re worth.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters does not accept Supe students, they did for a while at the very beginning, but Charles quickly realized that, for whatever reason, Supes and Mutants just do not get along on most occasions.

OKAY!!! SO NOW THAT THE GEEK TALK IS DONE, HERE’S THE STORY DETAILS

You/OC were a college intern at Vought that Homelander had his sights set on. He sort of coerced you into a relationship/situationship that lasted for about a year and was quite was toxic (bc like… it’s homelander).

While that went on Butcher knew of you bc of how obsessively he kept tabs on HL.

Butcher was planning on killing you to hurt HL, but then when he realized things had ended he knew you’d be more use to him alive than dead.

you were recruited to The Boys around the same time as Hughie, maybe a bit before.

you and Butcher don’t get together until after Becca dies, at first you’re really just mostly a object of comfort and escape for him, it’s way more serious for you than it is for him.

very Casual by Chappel Roan vibes

very Sharpest Tool by Sabrina Carpenter vibes

BUT the longer you stick around the more genuinely attached Butcher gets

There’s this sweet spot from almost a year in to a few months before the end of your relationship, it lasts about 2 years itself, you and Butcher are together for nearly 3 years.

during that sweet spot Butcher starts meaning it when he says "i love you"

near the end of those 3 years is when Butcher starts to become utterly obsessed with the whole “taking down homelander/supe genocide” thing.

he gets meaner, not to you specifically, just in general. he’s less affectionate, doesn’t spend as much time with you, only really initiates intimacy when he wants it, otherwise kinda brushes off your advances.

anytime you try to bring up these issues or his recent behavior you’re quickly shut down with a firm, “Let it be, love.”

you start spending more time away from the apartment, outside of work you try to fill your time with either hanging out with friends or going to the bar.

one night, you’re out with Annie and a few of your other friends at a little dive bar uptown.

you wanna play pool but none of your friends want to play, annie suggests you just go ask someone.

you’re a few drinks deep, not enough to make you drunk, just enough to instill a nice coat of confidence around you.

so, you see this man sitting at the bar, leather jacket draped over the back of his barstool, a cigar in one hand, a glass of what you assume is probably whiskey sitting in front of him, and you have no problem going up to him.

you ask him if he wants to play a game with you, and at first he tries to shoo you off, but unfortunately for him, you’re persistent.

there’s an instant connection between the you and the man, who you learned is called Logan.

he tries to ignore whatever nice feelings you spark up inside him, he’s got this lone wolf thing going on and he doesn’t need you, this pretty young thing, coming along and ruining it for him… is what he tells himself.

you promised him at first that it would only be one game, but after he beat you, you demanded a rematch, and by the end of the night you had played at least a few games.

you say your goodbyes and Logan assumes he’ll never see you again because that’s just the way things go. he tries to ignore the soft pang of disappointment in him, brushing it off as one of those rare occurences where he actually does feel a bit lonely… he’d never say that out loud.

you come back at the same time exactly a week later, this time by yourself, after a long week of dealing with the brick wall Butcher has put between the two of you.

Logan tries to ignore the way his heartbeat picks up just a bit when he sees you, he’s almost a bit annoyed that you came back, he was just starting to shake the memory of you that he couldn’t seem to forget like how he can the others.

you play pool again and open up to each other, even if it’s just the slightest bit.

this becomes a weekly occurrence, you and logan become “friends” (more so acquaintances that hang out once a week only at the bar for a few hours).

ANYWAYS!!! i’m gonna stop here so i don’t just write the whole story in bullet format, but this is the basic outline of the first bit of the story. literally only gonna write this if people actually want to read something like this, and it’ll also take me a while because i’m in the process of moving SO, pleathe be patient for i am just a little guy.

[alanaartdream]

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So with Fairly odd parents and Nicktoons unite taking over my attention atm

And getting inspired by fairy Timmy au like @cubbihue @katescribblesabit where Timmy gets turned into a fairy and adopted by Wanda and Cosmo but I’ve also got some ideas from @nicktoonsunite nicktoons unite crossover ideas my fairy Timmy au will include the nicktoons unite games (as well as Jimmy Tommy power hour)

So most of us by now know Timmy’s birth parents are kinda dumb and neglectful annnddd we can blame them and Timmy’s teacher cocker for about half of Timmy’s wishes being out of wack BUT not all of Timmy’s wishes do bad like they’re been number of times Timmy’s wishes have saved Fairy world and they brought about Poof/ peri heck even saved their universe so it’s safe to say fairy world loves Timmy (( and like Wanda and Cosmo they’ll fed up with Timmy’s birth parents and so maybe when Timmy’s 13-14 years old the fairy council along with Jorgen have agreed that Wanda and Cosmo can adopt Timmy as they own child to raise with poof/peri because they have all shown how much they all love each other like a family and being as it’s been centuries from the last time a human child was turned into a fairy and as a temporary one the last one to be turn into a full fairy conducts the change witch is where my fairy oc Felicity comes in ( she was a human child turned fairy back when Australia was getting convicts from the British and was adopted by Jorgen’s Nana boom boom) who warns being as Timmy’s done so much for fairy world and their universe that like his little fairy bother peri Timmy gonna be a very powerful fairy child and it will take awhile for him to get used to to all the magic to settle and on top of that he will get his own anti fairy but Jorgen will be there to nab the anti fairy and send him to anti fairy world but she warns it’s not an easy change BUT Timmy thinking of everything Wanda Cosmo Peri mean to him and how much they’ve shown they care for him against everything and all his mistakes agrees to it and while he goes through this change he thinks of them

Also Negative Timmy starts to appear as Timmy’s anti Fairy while unbeknownst to the fairies Anti Cosmo Wanda and Foop/ Irep have come to see what fairy-world was up to being as all of fairy world came to Timmy’s turning into a fairy

Timmy makes it through the change and in his fairy form his brown hair now has pink green and purple highlights in it to represent Wanda Cosmo and peri; Wanda Cosmo and peri have to catch him because he had to take on a lot power and that can be a lot for one person to take and this is when anti fairy Timmy finished forming and this is when Jorgen was going to nab him but anti cosmo nabs the boy and wisks him anti Wanda and Foop/ Irep away to anti fairy world saying ah ah no Jorgen anti fairies I’m in charge of not you fairies (not that anti fairy Timmy can do anything yet he’s only just been created into existence so he’s still dealing with new powers backlash as well but he’s safe with anti Wanda and anti cosmo )

Now while fairy world celebrates in Timmy Becoming a full fairy and being adopted by Wanda and Cosmo back on earth Timmy’s birth parents don’t yet realise they no longer have their son ( it takes them about 2 weeks witch is when school asked why Timmy hasn’t show up for school and then then they realise Timmy’s missing and then call the cops about him missing but also get chewed out for taking so long to realise he was missing and a month long investigation goes into trying to find him but the case goes cold so they have to give up)

Now over with Jimmy’s universe he’s doing great in school he’s won quite few awards for his science experiments and inventions and he’s wondering how Timmy Danny and like are doing in their universes now Danny and SpongeBob reply but there are no replies from Timmy and so worried they go to Timmy’s universe to try to find him and find out he’s gone missing so they go to check out Timmy’s room to see if they can find some clues and frost thing Jimmy notices is the fish bowl that is now got nothing in it not even water

Witch is when they see a light start to appear by Timmy’s old bedroom window so Danny makes them all invisible with his ghost powers and then the light poofs into the room and turns into fairy felicity who’s there to take away the fish bowl with her magic so no more links to fairy world through the fish bowl and to make sure but then spongebob brings out a butterfly net to capture her when Jimmy says these holograms can hopefully lead into where Timmy has gone

Now felicity never met Jimmy Danny and SpongeBob so of course she starts trying to get out of the net but cannot and because she’s making a lot of noise Jimmy has to open up a portal to take them back to his lab

Now being as felicity was struggling while Danny was not so gentle taking her to Jimmy’s lab she ended up with a few cuts on one arm leading her to bleed a bit onto Jimmy’s lab table (also the butterfly net had a bit of iron in it and fairies can’t handle iron)

Now holograms/ programs don’t bleed (I’m of the nonion that Wanda and Cosmo never gotten any cuts around them before and never bleed around jimmy Dannny and SpongeBob before so the feb about them being programmers is going to be brought about

And of course then to help heal her and take away the iron she has to tell Jimmy Danny the SpongeBob the truth and poof up the fairy DA RULES book about how any god kid cannot tell anyone they have fairy godparents and SpongeBob going ooo so Timmy’s like cindaralla and has godparents witch felicity agrees it’s a bit like that but in Timmy’s case being as his birth parents are so bad he’s been taken away and turn into a fairy while Jimmy trying to digest the fact he’s been treating a magical legendary creatures like they were holograms this hold time while Danny and SpongeBob are making friends with felicity and asking what’s been going on with Timmy and she’s happily telling them of all the heroics Timmy’s been doing for fairy world and her universe witch is why they can’t let Timmy’s birth parents take care of him anymore

And she in thanks for healing her takes all of them to fairy world

When they pop into fairy world the anti fairies are causing trouble because now they have anti Timmy (witch will be going by Ymmit thanks to Foop/irep ) while fairy Timmy along with Wanda Cosmo poof/peri and Jorgen trying to fight them off

So Jimmy Danny and SpongeBob join in and help Timmy save the day so Danny Jimmy and SpongeBob being as they are from a different universe are aloud to keep their memories as long as they keep helping Timmy learn how to use his new powers

Also cue also them getting to meet toddler peri / poof who likes to hang off of his bother Timmy a lot

I could see Jimmy and Danny being great help to Timmy learning how to use his fairy powers as well (also seeing fairy Timmy and toddler Peri hiding in Jimmy’s hair Carl and sheen pop in to say hello to Jimmy from time to time would be funny too)

[cloudninetonine]

The Player and the Dollmaker

A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry I haven't been as active for the past few months! Life and just general stuff got into the way, plus I've been feel extra anti-social :') But I'm gonna try and get back into the swing of things!!!

This story is based on my friend @next-hero-in-line's awesome new oc, the Dollmaker and by @batrogers's amazing fanfic based on said oc!! The Dollmaker for anyone who wishes to read it!

Warnings: Bad language (as usual to Player), blood/gore, temporary character death, reversed character death, hinted at a slighter darker Hyrule(?), also probably a lot of spelling mistakes I've been struggling with sleep lately piuhgfpiuf

Hyrule’s timeline was…something.

You were expecting it, truth be told, playing the very first Legend of Zelda game came with not only a huge reality check but the rude residents of the traveller’s Hyrule that had you close to tossing your device from the frustration of their snide remarks and coldness. With the troubles that brewed in the depths of the land, you couldn’t really blame the population- but there was no need to be snarled at for simply asking for directions.

“Mark my fucking words,” You growled, tugging at the material of your hood as you wondered through the village, monologuing to yourself like some crazed villain. “Mark them, goddesses, because trust if one of these nasty arse villagers sasses me again it’ll be between them and you.”

Yeah, you were not happy. Having to deal with the terrible crowds all day, your levels of cranky raised to the max and you were not about to deal with another one of these terrible people- even all the children were damn brats!!!

And to top it all off, it was raining, just perfect.

Huffing, you turned another corner, boots squelching against the mud of the (once) dirt path as you made your way back to the village outskirts, the camp resting deep within the crooked woodland that bordered the homes. You could catch the silhouettes of cloaked figures just by the bushes, speeding up your pace the slightest bit with your face relaxing from your raged scowl to a relieved smile.

Splitting up was not something you were fond of, especially in Hyrule’s land but with his flaming reputation with the locals that only further engulfed that of the Chain’s when they had first been seen in public with him would have been worse than just being seen as a weary traveller looking for some food and shelter. The stories of him being chased out of towns, to having rocks tossed his way and worse- you wanted to slam your fist into the nose of the first (definitely not) innocent bystander.

How could they treat their hero like this? Expendable? Like dirt beneath their boots? God, you hated it.

But, unfortunately, there wasn’t quite much you could do, was there?

You raised your hand, a yell at the tip of your tongue as you got closer to the cloaked heroes only for a sudden body to walk ahead of you, walking out from between the homes and right into your path- your yelp their only indication of their mistake as you bumped right into their side and had them near tumbling to the floor.

You were lucky this adventure had gifted you with faster reflexes.

“I’m sorry!” Your hand quickly grabbed their wrist, tugging them back up to a standing position before they could collapse into the mud. “I’m really sorry- are you okay?”

You caught bright blue eyes before anything else- well, eye, the other covered by her lucious, midnight purple locks- her hood did well to hide her features but that you could make out. Not many in Hyrule had quite striking attributes as she did and your mind rolled the many franchise characters in your mind in a curious search to see if she was familiar-

But no, you didn’t recognise her.

The woman blinked, studying you for the moment but her pretty pink lips stretched into a smile.

One you didn’t like.

“Hello.” She grinned with teeth as she once again looked you up and down. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You wretched your hand back like her skin was hot metal, keeping it protectively against your chest as you went to take a step back. “Pardon?”

“You were looking for health items in town.” She clarified, still smiling and still very disturbing before your eyes. “I have just the thing.”

Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home- “Oh? And- uh, what’s that?”

Your heart skipped in relief when she dug into the back hanging from her shoulder, plump with her own items and quite loud as she rummaged through until she made a small sound of victory and then proceeded to produce a…a doll. Her eyes looked over it proudly, her eye sparkling with a glee that made your stomach churn in a nervous rut, watching as her nimble fingers quickly straightened out the little toy’s clothing before handing it over to you- all the while still grinning that same smile she had been for the past few moments (had she even breathed?).

“For you.” Her voice was near giddy but still laced with her eerily calm demeanour. “A good healing item.”

“Uhhh, how much…?"

She giggled, airy and light. “A ‘thank you’ will suffice.”

Common sense had always told you not to take things from strangers, especially creepy ones that emerged from dark alleys with smiles that read trouble, eyes like a predator’s that shone with a lust for violence and blood- but, with a quick glance to your companions still waiting just ahead you felt the need to hurry this exchange so that you could return and be rid of this whole damn day.

So, managing to force a grateful smile, you accepted the item. “Um, thank you.”

You held back a cringe when her smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

Your eyes fell to the doll in your hands and you felt the air harshly exit your lungs, mouth a slight gape as you caught the familiar stitched face staring back at you.

“This-” Your eyes raised to meet…nothing. Nada. Zilch. Body twirling frantically to search for the woman who had once stood before you, face still stricken in slight horror before you let out a breath from your nose. “Typical.”

Gently, your thumb ran over the careful thread of the doll, taking in the very obvious features of yourself: your cape, your tunic with it’s gold accents, your hair and the discolour buttons for eyes, stitching of blue running down its face to its stubby little arms and a smile to top it off. Yes, this was you indeed and you knew exactly what this was.

“One up…?” You muttered, feeling dread settle on your shoulders.

Why would you need a one-up?

Your hands shook, thoughts racing through your mind as you continued to stare down at the small doll with anxiety bubbling in your gut. Was this a warning? Your fate decided? Were- were you close to death? Or did this Dollmaker find of your existence and wish to merely meet you? You weren’t quite sure, uncertain if being left in the dark was better or worse about the future with this item-

A hand came to rest over yours and your eyes flew up, meeting the frightened ones of Hyrule. Eyes of brown clashed green stared back into your own, pupils pin pricked with a similar fear to your own before he let out a breath and pushed the doll to your chest, his voice a soft whisper.

“Put it away.” He gently squeezed over your knuckles. “Don’t think about it- I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Hyrule-”

“It’s okay, I promise you.” He managed to smile at you, not quite reassuring but soft nonetheless. “Nothing will happen.”

You looked at him with apprehension. “...Link, I’m scared.”

His face hardened, eyes shining with a determination that you had seen time and time again. “I will protect you.”

…You couldn’t fight his words, you knew from his tone he would keep him promise no matter what. You knew that look, you knew this man and you trusted him, you could leave your life in his hands and he would keep that promise in his heart until his very last days.

But just because he could keep a promise didn’t mean fate couldn’t take over.

You stuffed the doll into your bag and took his out-stretched hand, letting him lead you back to the cloaked Chain so you could all return to your temporary abode within the woods.

You felt the stare of eyes on your back the entire way.

----------

The past few days had been uneventful, save for the few black blooded and some more cruel Hylians of Hyrule’s homeland, everything had been pretty quiet and tame- yet you could still feel the unnerving tremble in your belly at every waking moment. Glancing around wildly, refusing to step away from the group, you don’t think you had even released Hyrule’s hand for those past few days, too afraid and too cowardly.

Even if the doll was in your possession, even if it brought you back- you would die.

You didn’t want to die out here.

But it seems, like you had expected, fate had decided to take that into its own hands.

It was Legend’s turn to watch for the night, sat in front of the flickering campfire with eyes focused on the surrounding trees and bush. His back was towards you when you woke, blinking away sleep and rubbing at your eyes when you felt the overwhelming need to use the toilet. Well, find a spot behind a tree, after all when was the last time you had seen a proper toilet? You shuddered at the thought.

“Where are you going?” The Veteran grunted, watching as you waddled through the sleeping bodies. 

“Toilet.” Your voice was hoarse with exhaustion, “Don’t worry I’m not gonna converse with the Shadow.”

The man huffed, poking at the fire with a stick. “Whatever.”

That was all you exchanged, carefully manoeuvring through the shrubbery to get a good distance away from the men. Not thinking, your mind still too seeped in sleep, forgetting the doll you had kept in a death grip these past few gruelling days as you hopped and shuffled to get to a sufficient spot to do your business then head back to camp. It didn’t occur to you that this may have been the moment fate needed, nor did you think about it being your last.

Done with your business, you took a few steps back towards the light in the short distance. Far enough that you couldn’t see Legend’s full features but close enough that you were still in sight, the hero had his head down towards the flames, not focused on you at all.

You sighed.

Then-

…You felt a burning.

Your whole body tensed- seized as the pain began to grow from a dull throb to a near rolling inferno, your breath suddenly ripped from your body as you felt the sensation of hot liquid begin to slowly bubble up your throat while you looked downed to the cause of the pain- a crossbow bolt punctured right through you, dirtied with red hot blood that idly drip, drip, dripped from the tip of the arrow right onto the dirt below.

Breathing only resulted in the blood to rise faster, tasting the copper in your mouth as you coughed and sullied your white tunic with maroon and felt your body sway as you felt your body quickly begin to lose it’s balance, your vision blurring with tears.

It must have caught your lung…were you drowning in your own blood?

You reached a hand out towards the camp.

“...Li-nk-”

You fell to your knees, then to your side, choking on more of the liquid.

----------

Hyrule awoke to a scream.

Loud and violent, his whole body jolted at the sound as he lept into a seated position with his sword pulled ready, eyes scanning the camp frantically for the threat he had expected.

Only to see nothing. Merely his brothers in spirit, jolted awake and alarmed similarly to him as they all glanced around and wondered about the sound that had woken them all from their slumber.

Hyrule’s hand moved towards your body.

And his stomach dropped when he didn’t feel you there.

“No…”

It was happening.

When the silhouette of Legend began rushing back into camp, bloodied and panicked the traveller knew already what had happened- he didn’t need to glance at the mass in the Veteran’s arms to know it was you, the bolt still protruding through your ribcage as the small blonde screamed for them all to do something- ready the potions, ready the fairies, anything. His hysterics would have been almost comical if the brunette didn’t feel like his world was crashing down around him as he watched your hand limply hang, unmoving.

“Oh dear Three-”

“Put them down, quickly!”

“We must remove the bolt!”

Hyrule pounced when his body finally snapped back into attention, rushing to your side like a bat out of hell when the blonde had carefully handed you towards the Captain and the Old Man- the soldier carefully snapping off the fletching of the arrow to slide the item out of your chest, the horrible bloodied squelch making the brunette’s stomach twist and churn in horror and fear.

He didn’t see Warrior’s fingers against your pulse, nor the slow head shake towards the horrified Time.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered gently, soothingly, as his hands glowed a familiar white.

“Traveller-” Warriors started.

“You’re going to be okay, I’m going to make it stop.” He pressed his hand over the wound, ignoring the blood blooming around his fingers and soaking them in red. “I know it hurts-”

“Traveller.” Time’s voice was firm, his hand landing on his shoulder. “Stop.”

Hyrule held back from decking the old man where he stood. “”WHAT?! NO!! Are you INSANE-”

“They’re already gone, Hyrule.”

Wild’s voice was…gentle. Gentle and pained as he kneeled next to the frozen hero, carefully moving his hands from the puncture wound to stop the man from further staining his hands in your blood. The Champion’s face was broken, ears down turned and eyes blank as he looked over your broken form- the spark that once danced in your eyes now gone with the gentle rhythm of your breaths.

Hyrule waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Your chest did not move.

Warriors hand gently ran over your eyes, closing the lids so that they no longer had to see the dead stare aimed towards the trees ahead. He moved to softly kiss your forehead after with an even softer apology.

“I…..I promised…” Hyrule muttered, eyes glazing over as tears began to blur his vision of your dead body, still warm to the touch. “I promised-”

“I’m sorry, brother.” Wild whispered, moving to hold Hyrule gently. “I’m sorry.”

The silence hanging over them all was heavy, save for the small sniffles and hiccups of the few. Twilight was trying to console a near uncontrollable Legend, bloody hands roughly grabbing the fur of his hide as he sobbed and choked on tears. Wind was turned into Four, the shorter man holding him close and away from the visceral scene. The rest were stock still, quiet and unsure of what to do, of what to say, as they continued to stare at your…corpse.

Warriors bowed his head. “We should give them a burial.”

“No-” Hyrule gasped, feeling both rage and a cold emptiness within him. “No, I- I need to-” “There isn’t anything else you can do, traveller.” Time’s voice was soft but firm. “Our only option is to bury them…and if we find our way back to their homeland, return their belongings to their mother.”

Hyrule perked up, head swivelling round towards your bag a little ways away.

Belongings…

The

Doll.

His heart surged and in a moment of pure adrenaline, he shoved Wild to the side and dived towards your rucksack, ignoring his brother’s grunt or the other yells.

“Link!”

The brunette grasped the thing frantically, near ripping the strange contraption you called a zipper as he rummaged messily through your back, tossing your things wildly as he looked for the wretched ‘gift’.

“Traveller, stop this!” The voice of Four called, trying to grab his arm. “What are you doing-”

Hyrule didn’t even feel remorse when he roughly shoved his elbow into the nose of the short hero and sent him flying onto his arse.

More yells of his name were heard but they were quite easily ignored when his eyes finally laid eyes on the doll of your likeness, aggressively snatching the carefully crafted toy with a desperation and anger he hadn’t felt for years. He turned back to scramble towards your body, the doll gripped in his hand like it was his lifeline only for Sky and Time to roughly grab his arms, their voices falling on deaf is as he wildly scratched and bit at them, trying to fight his way out.

“Release me!” He roared, catching Sky by the cheek and causing the Skyloftian to wince in pain. “Let me go! I can save them!”

“Enough of this, Link!” Time yelled, both desperate and firm, his own face riddled in anguish. “They are gone! Let them rest in peace!”

Hyrule’s heart thumped painfully in his chest at the thought of you dead, lost to him forever more before he pushed himself harder until he caught the arm of the Old Man and sunk his teeth into the skin, the Hero of Time crying out in pain and finally releasing him- Chosen quickly diving to aid the blonde as the traveller rushed to your side and pressed the doll against you.

“Do your job!!” He yelled into the night air, “Heal them! Bring them back!”

Wild and Warriors pinned him this time, Hyrule’s face pressed into the dirt with them both keeping his arms down to stop him from swiping or nipping at his brothers once again.

“That’s enough!” Warriors’ commanding voice bellowed, pushing Hyrule’s face further into the ground. “Calm down or else, traveller!”

Hyrule’s eyes bore tears once again, struggling once more with both pleas and threats falling from his mouth, merging into a mess of gibberish the further and further he spiralled into a wobbly heap of tears and sorrow beneath the other Links. This couldn’t be the end, the doll couldn’t be a dud- it was supposed to bring you back. You were supposed to be here! You weren’t dead! You couldn’t be dead! He didn’t want you dead! This had to be a nightmare, conjured by Ganon’s monsters to torture him and break him. You- You-

There was a popping sound behind them and heads snapped towards it.

“What was that?” Time asked, still nursing his bleeding bite mark. “Where did that come from?”

Wind’s eyes were wide. “The doll just…exploded?”

Hyrule’s breath stopped.

…

Just as yours returned.

Shaky and hoarse, your body moved with a violent inhale of breath, shaking from the strain and following with heavy coughs as you breathed like it was the first time, lungs born anew. The others watched in a curious shock as you continued to hack and heave, pushing your body up from the ground- the doll falling from your chest into the dirt below.

The toy's chest held a puncture, white wool stuffing blooming at the hole with a few stray curls falling into the dirt.

Hyrule sobbed in relief.

“(Name)!” Wind threw himself at you, arms wrapping around your neck tightly as he shoved his face into your shoulder. “You’re okay- You’re okay!!”

You continued to gasp for breath, the many men around you rushing to your side to aid your effort as Hyrule pushed himself to his hand and knees, smiling a wet and wobbly grin as he listened to you, alive, once more- returned to him from the realm of the dead. You were back, you came back and his heart swelled with a plethora of emotions that made his entire being shake.

Hyrule crawled over to you, frozen and still not sure of your own surroundings as his hands came to engulf your face, his eyes looking back into your own- glazed in confusion and lingering fear that made his heart squeeze in regret.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I am so sorry- I broke our promise.”

Your mouth opened then closed. Then opened and closed once again. Looking for the words to express the feelings behind your petrified gaze, your throats managing noise but that alone in an seemingly endless cycle of struggle and torment. Only when you whimpered, tearing up with a shaky sob did the man embrace you and hold close- careful to keep the bloody hands off you. He didn’t want you to see it.

The dolls never did quite clean up the mess.

----------

Hyrule trekked through his woodland, bumping through branches and harshly knocking away bushes as a man on a mission. Eyes narrowed with anger, the flickered with the flames of hell and rage as he stomped his way towards his destination.

“Where are you going?” Time had asked, watching the traveller pull on his cloak. “Don’t you think it unwise to leave when they just got to sleep?”

You laid in a comfortable heap in your sleep mat, wrapped in both your own blanket and the brunette’s, Wind and Wild laid comfortably beside you and Wolfie acting as your pillow. All were resting, vanished into the land of dreams with the many other men around camp. They were close too, like bodyguards they surrounded you afraid of what had already happened.

Time was left for watch and Hyrule took his opportunity.

“I have some business to deal with.” His voice was void of his usual softness, a growl of a predator with the malice near sharp as Ganon’s himself. “I’ll be back.”

Time narrowed his eye. “We will search for whoever did this in the morning.”

“That is not what I am doing.”

“Then what is? Tell me, traveller, what could you possibly be doing?”

Hyrule’s hand grabbed the doll, his hand tight enough to near pop its beady button eyes right from its wool skull.

Hyrule pulled his hood over his head.

“I will return soon.”

Hyrule ripped another branch from his face, eyes finally narrowing in on the large house in the distance. Like he had seen it once before, warped beyond comprehension yet still perceivable to his naked eye. It haunted his dreams now, echoes of a horrid encounter that shook him to the core and left invisible scars that still marred his soul-

She was there once again, the exact same spot as the time before, the exact same position, her arms crossed over her chest with a menial smile plastered over her lips that only grew as the Hero of Hyrule stepped out from the shadows of the trees, still tightly gripping the ruined doll within his grasp.

Despite her calm disposition, he could so clearly see the hunger in her eyes, even from his spot. “Did your friend like my gift?”

Hyrule’s hand twitched to his blade, hanging from his hip opposed to his back- easier and faster to draw. “I should kill you where you stand.”

The Dollmaker’s chuckle held a twisted humour like poking a sleeping, starved bear. “You should- but you won’t.”

Hyrule’s eye twitched. “What do you want with them? They have no power- no fighting capability or anything you could possibly want.”

“Ah,” She tapped her nose with the constant smile. “You will come to know. Or maybe you won’t, wouldn’t it be more fun to find out yourself?”

“Stay away from them.” He stepped up to her door’s steps, eyes manic in rage. “Leave them be.”

Her already massive smile grew.

The Dollmaker was not someone Hyrule liked to encounter. When her dolls appeared death usually followed, mostly his own, the many sawdust filled dummies gathering dust in the darkness in his bag as a constant reminder of what you had been through during his adventures. Sometimes he saw different ones, of faces he had only glimpsed at in towns or villages, but he saw them- he had seen one of her own long ago. Saw the damage dealt to it’s surface when he had the unfortunate chance of crossing into her shop looking for some magic items he was already lacking.

She liked to collect them; that was the idea he had conjured anyway.

Raising your doll high, he presented the damaged little soft toy towards her and saw how her pupils grew at the sight. While her hands were gentle to grab it she practically snatched it from his hands and cradled the thing close to her chest, gently caressing the spot where the hole had formed.

“Even a cursed doll, you handle them gentle.” Her comment made him huff, his arms crossing to hold back from doing something he regretted. “I showed them mercy, you know.”

Hyrule ground his teeth. “You think shooting them in the chest is mercy?”

“Compared to what else I could have done, yes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s only fair if I have my fun.”

The Hero turned his head away. “You’re sick.”

And the Dollmaker hummed. “I will return with another.”

She disappeared into the darkness of her house, footsteps gently fading off as Hyrule stood just below the doorway, pearing in and hoping to see the mystery of her disorted abode. No luck however, his eyes only soaked in the dark abyssal, his ears twitching at the sounds of creaking floorboards and groaning wood of the walls, focusing and focusing in a near trance until the sight of her eye peering through the darkness made him take a cautious step back.

When had he climbed the steps?

“Here.” She said, once again both calm and giddy as she presented the doll to him- another little you, with a stitched little smile like the last. “I hope they enjoy it.”

Hyrule carefully snatched the doll away before jogging down the steps and headed back towards the forest without another word.

“It didn’t feel right to use sawdust.” The brunette paused, slightly moving his head in indication that he was listening- not that it mattered. He knew she would continue on, even if he had trudged off. “I felt they needed something a little more…lively and I of course couldn’t brush off the idea of using the finest of sheep’s wool. I think it suited them much more, don’t you agree?”

…Hyrule kept walking.

[elvenbeard]

OC INTERVIEW - VINCENT EZAKI

(I was tagged by @cybersteal and @arcandoria for this a long while ago, and got real carried away with this idea xD also inspired by everyone else who took the "interview" bit a bit more literally, so yes! :D thank y'all for the great ideas and being an inspiring af fandom!)

Juanita Tseng: V, thank you so much for taking the time today, so happy to have you here! Let me ask, is that your full name?

V: Hah. Well, obviously not, but it’s served me well for many years now.

J: Any special story behind it?

J: What’s not a secret is that most of our viewers only know you as “mystery man” so far, at least that’s how the scream sheets often choose to refer to you. How do you feel about that?

V: Well, nothing I could say against either. I like my privacy and I’m a man, so they got that right at least.

J: Hahaha, that’s fair! Even more so I’m glad we’re getting the opportunity to get to know you a bit better today. As I told you in advance, there’s some burning questions our viewers have, and everyone’s been eagerly submitting them already as we speak. So, without further ado, let’s get to the first one. When is your birthday?

V: It’s in June, but I’d like to leave it at that.

J: Interesting! Gemini or Cancer?

V: Whichever is the one that comes first.

J: That’s fair! Alright, how tall are you?

J: Who is taller?

V: Me of course.

J: Of course! Okay, next question… Ah! Let’s stay on the topic of Kerry for a moment longer. From my last interview with him we know you two met through a mutual friend.

V: That’s right.

J: How did it go? Was it love at first sight, or more of a slow burn?

V: Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him when we first met. But it wasn’t love at first sight, no, more… curiosity. We crossed paths a few more times, also thanks to that friend, and got to know each other better like that. We just clicked. That’s all there is to it really.

J: Awwww, that's so sweet! Now, it’s no secret that Kerry has led a quite adventurous life and there is a bit of an age gap separating you. So, I gotta ask:

J: Only men?

V: Yup. And now the next question please, cause none of it matters.

J: Hahaha, sorry, I know I’m such a tease! But we gotta ask our viewer’s questions! Speaking of which, one of them is curious about your upbringing and cultural heritage!

V: Now that’s a 180° turn. Born and raised in and by Night City. Can’t say much about cultural heritage, as it’s a bit of a mix of many things.

V: Mh-hm.

J: Let me see… would you be up for some quick shotgun-style questions?

V: Ready when you are.

J: Favourite season?

V: Anything that doesn’t involve sandstorms.

J: Favourite flower?

V: Lotus.

J: Favourite Scent?

V: Clean bedsheets.

J: Average hours of sleep?

V: I aim to get at least 7.

J: Numer of Blankets you sleep with?

V: One or none.

J: Favourite Fictional Character?

V: Oh no, uuuhh… Hmm… No, I can’t just choose one.

J: Haha, that’s alright. Would you say you’re a bit of a nerd?

V: Oh yeah, unashamedly. Me getting started about my favorite fictional characters would be a whole interview on its own.

J: Anyway, that’s right on cue, we’re almost out of time for today! I think we could fit one… no, two more questions!

V: Alright, let’s hear ‘em.

J: What would be your dream trip?

V: Hmmm… Kerry asked me to come along for his tour next year. I imagine that could be fun.

J: Oh, definitely! By the way, dear fans, don’t miss out on buying your tickets!

V: Maybe.

J: It’s been really nice to have you here today, V!

V: Thanks again for the invite.

J: As you know, I like to end my show with a random fact, something fun I’ve heard about in the past week or something about myself! Would you like to share a random fact with the viewers today?

V: I try.

J: Haha, well, I'm glad you found your way to my little studio, too! As I said, would love to have you over again anytime!

########## a few minutes later ##########

##############################

Thank you again for the tags! This was so much fun and really turned into its own thing beyond an OC ask meme XD I did this meme before with some slightly different and/or more in-depth answers for anyone curious [here] cause like stated back then, how Vince replies to personal questions always strongly depends on who's asking. And he might be more or less truthful about the information given or keep it all very surface-level instead, too.

For this lil story here the idea was obviously that the whole interview is basically just a promo thing for Kerry's upcoming tour xD So of course Vince is gonna support his bf if it helps boost ticket sales XDD A year earlier he might not have done it even then, because he was veeery reluctant about having their relationship be known beyond telling their closest friends. But here at this point some time in mid-to-late 2078, he'd feel secure enough with his life, their ilfe really, that he wouldn't mind being seen in the public together like this and also "outing" himself like that in front of a larger audience, for lack of a better word. It's the character growth and support of each other and a love language and everything \o/

Also: not sure who to tag at this point cause I think most of you already did this, but if you're reading this and havent answered all of Juanita's questions for your OC yet, consider yourself tagged!

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Two

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n: all i have to say is thank you for reading, and i'd love to hear what you think

......................................

Oh, come child

In a cross bones style

Oh, come child

Come rescue me

'Cause you have seen some

Unbelievable things

Crossbones Style by Cat Power

.....................................

Not comfort. Not exactly ease either. Familiarity maybe. Both of them settling into a routine configured around the other. She likes to help with the animals whenever she can, getting up as early as him, no task too daunting or dragging for her to say no to it. Just the other day she helped him trim back the sheep’s hooves, not even flinching when one of the girls tried to give a jerky kick underneath their ministrations, all shush and soothe in her flicking ears as Joel got the job done. She understands flight and freeze like that, at least in the animals. 

They get done what chores they can in the morning before she has to get changed for work, the requisite light blue dress with the buttons down the front, an apron snug around her waist. She had made a joke about the fucking fifties the first time he saw her in her uniform, surprising him with the quick, crass humor, her half-grin as she got into the passenger seat of his truck. 

He drops her off, heads into town or to the station, whatever needs to be done, and usually is done around lunchtime. He’s supposed to be watching his cholesterol, admonished by the one doctor in town two years in a row now. So he orders a salad with a sigh when he stops into the diner around noon, though Dolores will often tuck a few fries onto the side of his plate, a quiet smile when she sets it down in front of him. Maybe he’s been leaving bigger tips than is appropriate, maybe he made sure that the money in the jar on the counter would be going to her at the end of the day, a quiet conversation with Sal while she was in the back of the kitchen. 

He lingers. Always an endless to-do at home, ignored in this instant, stealing a little extra time sitting at the counter, watching her flit and flicker around the regulars. She’s good with people, big, bright smiles that don’t quite round her eyes, laughs light as air, and as empty too. And he sees the quick slump of her shoulders when the customers aren’t looking, when she’s passing through the swinging door to the kitchen. Turn it on and turn it off. 

But there’s someone new eating lunch at the diner today. One of those climber-backpacker types, all wired-down, tan muscle against shock-white teeth, flicking back his sun-bleached flop of hair, putting on a real show for her when she drops off his burger at his booth. It’d be rude to just keep looking, to turn around on his stool and stare the man down, so he listens instead. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. Can I ask you something?” Like something small and slight being held in a fist, close to breaking or bursting, a cracked chirp of her answer, clearly flustered when she says um, yes, yeah. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a town like this?” That same sound, like she’s trying to make a laugh happen, though it comes out more like a held breath that finally gasps into an exhale. 

“That’s kind of you, but I need to get back to work, excuse me.” 

“Oh come on, where’s that midwestern hospitality you all seem to have?” 

“Do you– can I get you anything else?”

“How about a smile, sweetheart? Just a little one, for me?” For a moment, it’s silent. Joel curls his fingers in a fist, over and over, flex and extend, his back still turned. Something hot and tight closes up in his throat when he hears the man sigh, and then laugh.

“There you go, prettiest thing I’ve seen since I left Denver. I’ll be thinking about you while I’m climbing this afternoon, sweets, thank you for that.” 

“Shouldn’t be climbing in the afternoon.” He says it before he can stop himself, turning around on his stool, a thick flare of hate, maybe meanness, when he sees the uncertain curl of her shoulders and the slanted smile on the man’s face. 

“Excuse me?” The man slings one arm over the back of his booth, body splaying and slumping toward Joel, trying to take up more space than he’s worth. A little bit of preening, a little bit of plumage.

“You’re likely to get yourself caught in a storm up in the mountains this time of year. I’m surprised such an expert man like yourself didn’t know that.” Arrogant, artifice, the man grins, eyes swooping back over Dolores as he picks up his burger with one hand, a wolfish bite that he tucks into the side of his mouth, the slow roll of his jaw as he focuses back on Joel. 

“I don’t mind trying my luck. I usually come out on top. But thanks for the tip, pal, appreciate it.” He takes one more bite, half of his burger gone in two gnashing mouthfuls, all bright white teeth. With that, a quick clap of his hands together, fast heat rubbed between his palms, he pulls out a wad of cash from the front of his pack, leaving a crumpled fistful on the table before he stands with a sigh. 

“Better head out. Thank you for the smile, sweetheart, I’m gonna remember that.” He tucks a smaller fold of bills into the pocket on the front of Dolores’ apron, and Joel can see the way her stomach tenses, curling back from the suggestion of touch. The word no flashes big and battering in Joel’s mind, though there’s nothing to be done, the man already shouldering his pack and sending a slippery slide of a smile his way before he’s swaggering hips-first out the door. 

“You alright?” She doesn’t quite meet his eyes, even when he ducks his head down to try to catch her beneath her lashes. All he gets is a nod and a pointed sniff, and then she sets herself back into motion, ducking into the kitchen to pick up someone else’s order.

Dolores doesn’t like men, something he learned pretty quickly about her. The first time, when they went to the drugstore together and she wilted like a wan flower under Rod’s friendly conversation, that same curling up of her shoulders, that same drop to her eyes. It happened again when she met John one day at the small grocery store in town. She had been smiling, an easy conversation about palisade peaches being in season, quick to fall and fade when Joel introduced her to the man. Even John, with the disposition of a feckless golden retriever, had gotten that same reaction out of her. 

She tolerates the customers at the diner, lots of nervous laughter and quick movement, her sneakers squeaking hard on the chipped linoleum floor. Warm with the few children in town, the women too. But no, she doesn’t like men. All uncertain angles, folding herself up close and tight and away. Honestly, it’s a small miracle she’s softened that snap, that shrink-back around Joel. Comfort in the known, he supposes. He’ll take it. 

“Hey, you alright?” Again, he catches her on her way to another table, a quick flicker of her eyes and a nod, shrugging the trays held in her arms a little closer, already moving again. Softened, but still there, cagey, careful, and now coaxed up to a higher degree by that man, that fucking man. 

Joel leaves soon after, not wanting to corner or crowd her. Back to routine. Back to the barn and the coop and the animals and all the things that must be done around them. Fall inches ever closer, a time that demands preparation. Work that promises completion and satisfaction when done well and right. Not easy, but simple. Maybe he’s careful to keep an eye on his watch, timing his drive back to the diner right before dinner, just as Dolores is stepping out of the storefront, her face furrowed down to the bills she’s counting in her hands. 

“What’s this?” His turn to drop his brow when she gets into the passenger seat and holds out a thick fold of money to him across the console.

“This should cover the clothes, and that drugstore trip you made for me.” He stares at the money, his fingers curling tighter over the steering wheel. That was two weeks ago, nearly three now, and she’s already trying to make even. 

“You don’t– I’m not keeping score. That’s yours.” Fast fall, flustered, a stuttered exhale, not what she expected, not what she wanted, her hand staying suspended between them, shaking the money lightly as if to entice him into taking it.

“But, I can’t. I–” What he’d like to do is reach out too, curl his hand over hers to close her fingers around that money, make it all hers. But she doesn’t like touch, even the accidental kind, something else he has learned. That quick tightness, that smalling if he brushes behind her in the kitchen in the morning, so he doesn’t. If their hands reach for the radio in the car at the same time, little fire passed between fingertips, and then her immediate recoil, so he doesn’t. And he doesn’t now either.

“You don’t have to. I was happy to, no score. That’s your money, Dolores.” Like she just swallowed something bitter, her face scrunching and then slackening as she nods, careful and quiet in settling her hand, and her money, back in her lap. 

“Could I at least help with groceries?” A small compromise, for her to look at him again, if for nothing else. 

“Okay.”

Here is what makes a town. Two blocks proper, a church at one end and a bar at the other. A second hand shop that sits slumped against the post office. A library that gets new books once every two years. A restaurant, the only other one besides the diner, the downstairs of a newly-established bed and breakfast that most of the residents have turned their noses up at. A police station that sits next to the simple steeple of the church, how fitting. And a grocery store, a small one, the nearest safeway a two-hour drive east. Joel had to look up what an IGA was when he first moved here. 

And because everyone knows everyone, a trip to the grocery is never in and out, always getting stopped in the produce aisle, asked after while picking up a gallon of milk. Today, no different. 

“Hey there, you two. Can I expect to see you at the little thing at the bar tonight?” The little thing Patty is referring to is the fact that it’s the end of the month. A peculiar tradition, not a party, just an agreed-upon herding of one another. Joel has thought to himself on multiple occasions that its real purpose is to make sure no one quietly died while people weren’t paying attention, a once-a-month census.

“I don’t know, Patty, maybe I’ll drop by, keep folks from talking too much.” Dolores’ confusion is clear, searching between him and Patty. Why he’s trying to keep this from her, he’s unsure.

“Well, I hope to see the both of you there.” Patty is a particular kind of woman. Here long enough for her word to have some power behind it. She lives above the secondhand shop alone, though Joel knows she has two sons, shown pictures of them, arms slung across her shoulders, that same slanted smile of hers on both of their faces. They don’t visit. And Patty doesn’t seem sad for it. She orders a specific kind of red hair dye once a month, Joel always seeming to catch her at the post office picking up the box with a distinct logo stamped on its side. Nice enough, a little brash maybe, but she’s always been open-armed with him. And she’s been kind to Dolores too. No questions, at least not to her, no staring or stirring, like it makes the most sense in the world that Joel suddenly has a woman staying with him that he has never mentioned before. So she doesn’t press now, leaves it at that, leaves them to the produce aisle, an easy greeting and goodbye. 

“Are you gonna go?” Her hands are deft and discerning, cracking open and peeling back a pale green corn husk, a hoard of it on sale this year, fine silk tassels and that sweet, crisp, smell. 

“Oh, probably not.” He holds open the produce bag for her, a quiet yeah when she asks if four ears is enough. 

“I would go, you know, if you wanted to.”

“Do you want to?” She shrugs, the slight swing of the hem of her dress as she walks alongside him, zucchini and tomatoes.

“Patty seems like the kind of person who’s used to getting her way.” She doesn’t say it mean, only observation as she tucks two tomatoes down in the cart. He can feel a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“She certainly doesn’t like the word no. We could stop by, if that’s alright with you?” 

It is alright, and after dinner, summer spoils sweet and sated, he waits for her on the porch while she changes out of her uniform. It’s getting darker earlier, the sun already cracking and dripping between the mountains, everything hushing down orange and purple. Soon, it will be time for the sheep to spend their nights in the barn, and in the day too, during that deepest, tightest fist of winter. But for now, it’s quiet, save for the dull thrum of all the small, crawling things, air that’s only a relief in its coolness, not a worry. 

“Ready?” Pretty, he thinks. Hasn’t seen that before, he thinks. Crisp white with fine little flowers embroidered along the neckline and the sleeves. The neckline, a new expanse of her sternum on display, the fragile flutter of it when he stares just a beat too long. 

“Uh-huh, yeah.” Ready, dark enough that the headlights need to be flicked on, flooding yellow down the bare brush and scrub along the road. And then the bleeding neon glow of the bar on the edge of town coming into focus. 

Shoes sticking in the syrupy grime of a few decades past, dim lights and a perpetual haze of smoke, something sad and slow drifting in on the jukebox. No pretense, no pretending that folks are here for anything other than getting a little drunk at the end of another day. 

Patty is happy to see the both of them, offering a bottle that Joel accepts, and one that Dolores politely declines, though she still allows herself to be pulled along by the older woman, leaving Joel to make his rounds. The same questions, asked and answered, health and hearth and how are you. Fine, just fine. Except, a little distracted, quick glances over to the bar where Dolores is sitting. Patty still there with her, still getting her to smile, so fine, just fine until the next time he looks over.

Not Patty. Him. Big, bright shark tooth smile, fang and flare. Even more tan, skin tight and taut against quick-jumping muscle, all pumped and puffed out from his afternoon climb. A wiry arm slung around the back of Dolores’ chair, her whole body slanted and steeled toward the side as he leans in, lips pulled back in a sneer of a smile. 

Whoever Joel was talking to, he’s no longer listening, no longer even feigning interest as he watches, trying to piece together whatever that man is saying to her by the way his jaw pulls with each of his words. Waiting, really, for any excuse to step in, to make this wrong right. 

And then, enough, already in motion as he watches the man reach out, the backs of his knuckles brushing against her clavicle before she can jerk away. Gotcha, got you, gonna get you. All the ways the human body can recoil, say no, and all the ways it can refuse to listen.

He doesn’t catch the end of whatever the man is saying, words coming out on a quick bark of laughter that makes Dolores flinch harder, knuckles all curled up in her lap. He doesn’t care to know, a thick wash of no drowning it out. The thing is, Joel can get big, and loud, and mean, so mean. If he needs to. He can roll back his shoulders and set his jaw in a hard grind. He can make a fist and then make contact. He can make a man get small and get gone. But not in front of her. Another body to account for, a shivering down small body, a body that cannot bear any more violence. So he must settle for something else, a quiet heat, an expression on his face that he hopes is no enough.

“Is there a problem?” The man glances over his shoulder, all smile, all teeth.

“Hey, pal. No problem here. I was just telling this pretty thing about the climb I got in, wasn’t I?” He asks it with a duck of his head, trying to steal her gaze that she keeps on her hands in her lap. A habit of hers, the skin around her nails picked and pulled raw, soon to bleed with the way she’s worrying at them now. 

“I don’t think she’d like to hear any more of what you have to say, pal.” A flicker of something animal, the man sucks his teeth, mouth screwed to the side before he sighs. Fire needs fuel, and he’s not getting any, certainly not from her. Something that sounds like not worth it as he sways himself out of the bar. Joel knows this kind well, blown in and out in a day, maybe two. Not a problem, not really, and he won’t let it become one. 

“Thank you.” She gives Joel her eyes, a quick nod as he sits down beside her. Careful distance kept between them, space for her to spread back out, to unfurl, and she does, leaning back in her chair, a quick roll of her shoulders like she’s trying to shake off that shiver.

“I have no patience for people like that. Think they’re hot shit for hiking up a mountain when they’re just a nuisance.” Maybe he said too much, tempering his words with a swig of his beer, though Dolores seems to receive it, turning slightly toward him so he can feel the ghost of her knee brush against his.

“I just don’t like men like that.” He sighs, because what could he say to that? What hasn’t already been said in the slow fade of the bruises on her arms? 

“Drink?”

“Yeah, please.” 

It’s quiet between them for a while, each nursing a beer as the din around them lulls and lifts. He drums his fingers against his thigh, something steady while he tries to work a thick flood of words into something that might make sense, something that won’t make her recoil. 

“Can I ask you about it?” She doesn’t look at him, focused on her thumbnail working the sticker off her bottle. But she does nod, lips pursed, long sigh like she needs to make room for what she’s about to say.

“All of it?”

“If you’re okay with that, yes.”

Yes, she’s okay with that. No, her husband wasn’t always the way he is now. He was kind until he wasn’t. Quiet until he wasn’t. The first time, silly. That’s what she calls it. A silly, stupid thing. The windshield of his car had gotten chipped while she was driving it. And she saw black with the way his hand guided her skull into the wall of their bedroom when she got home. Silly, she says, a wave of her palm like, no big deal, because not the worst of it. His stomach slurs and sickens. 

She was a teacher, her lips curling around the memory like it tastes sweet. And then he told her to stop working. Command, not question. Gave her a careful fold of money each morning, like a child’s allowance, like a leash choked close and tight. What friends she had left told her to leave him, lovely sentiment, with what money? With what, with what, with what?

And then he got a gun. Waved it around like a second dick. A strange swagger, what the weight of such perfect destruction does in a man’s palms, slung on his hip, never far. 

“Did he?”

“Once, right here.” Two fingers pressed to her temple, her eyes unblinking, expressionless. Though it’s gone just as quick, her fingers flexing and curling into a quick fist before settling back in her lap, unmaking memory. 

She left then. With what, with what, with what? Nothing. A book in the passenger seat and a vague conception of the west meaning something like hope.

“You like to read?” Anything else will come out too harsh, too big with anger, so that will have to do. She seems relieved for it, shoulders settling and smoothing.

“Yes, I do.” 

“We can get you a library card, if you want.” 

“I’d like that.” 

…

They go to the library the next day, and the man who works there just seems happy that there’s anyone new to give a library card to in the first place. 

Dolores has already begun reading the first book in the small stack she checked out, quiet in the passenger seat the whole drive home. And later, when he leaves for his overnight shift, she’s on the couch, already halfway finished, lips parted and moving with the page. 

“I’ll see you in the morning then.” Still startled by his voice, quick to shut her book and look at him, and like so many other times, he wishes he hadn’t said anything, had let her stay suspended in that ease.

“Alright, thank you again.” He’s still not very good at accepting that from her, a nod and a shrug of his shoulders, out the door. 

Lately, these shifts have gotten tinged sour. Something anxious, something angry. Waiting, maybe. Willing. Wanting that car to come zipping past him on the black strip of the interstate. Wanting to chase it down. Wanting to do something that he shouldn’t want to do. He’ll come, he thinks. They always do. Men like that won’t give up the thing that makes them feel big so easily. 

For now, Joel hunkers down in the car, radio off, quiet, waiting with all the other languoring animals for something that will sate. He replays what she told him in his mind, lets something dark curl around it, poison thoughts. But he has to ask himself why. All this care, all this concern, and all this anger, why? For a perfect stranger, who’s not really a stranger now. Been living around each other for nearly a month, so no, not a stranger anymore. 

He likes her. An answer both simple and devastating at the same time. And is he just as bad as any other man? Finding a scared thing so very pretty. No, he cannot like her like that. He cannot like her like watching the rise and fall of her sternum, and he cannot like her like stealing glances of her every chance he can get. Because that is the last thing she needs. But care is allowed. Making something wrong the smallest bit right is allowed. A friend, a familiar thing, a comfort. All things he can do for her. 

…

The sun is just starting to heft its golden belly over the mountains when he gets home, pale blue light and mist rising cool and shy in the brush. Usually, at this hour, she will already be up, making breakfast for the both of them that he always feels a bit bashful accepting. 

But it’s quiet in the house this morning, still. Her book rests on one side of the couch, a rumpled blanket beside it. He doesn’t hear the old pipes groaning with the task of running water, the floorboards crackling with the fact of shuffling feet. And he shouldn’t but he does. Panic like a tight fist, like a heavy stone in his gut. 

He knocks on her bedroom door, a quiet call of her name. Nothing. And he shouldn’t, but he does. So careful, so quiet in cracking open the door. Nothing. Bed still made, untouched. She must have spent the whole night on the couch. Why does that make his heart kick and quicken in his chest? The thought of her reading right through the darkness, the singular glow of the lamp tendriling out into the night. 

Not here though. Did she? Could she? Would she? He feels drunk off this reality. But scared things have always been known to flee, haven’t they? To pretend at fragile trust until they find an opportunity to escape. Did she feel like she needed to escape from him? His palm tries to rub that thought out of his chest, real ache, real pain at the idea. 

Fresh air, because his skull is already starting to throb with this. He steps out onto the porch and tries to imagine all the ways this leaving could have been done. He hates every possibility, every phantom flight that he can conjure. But no time to let it sting or steep, because laughter, a sudden, foreign peel of it. Hers, he’s never heard hers before. But there she is, rounding the corner of the coop, a few of the chickens following close on her heels, already their favorite between the two of them. And she’s talking to them, quiet murmurings from behind a smile, another quick burst of brightness. 

“Hey, good morning.” Saying it to him, smiling at him, the biggest, best relief. He joins her, only a little grumble at the way the chickens squawk at his sudden intrusion. 

“You figure out names for them yet?” One eye dropped in a squint in the brash wash of morning light, still smiling.

“I have some ideas, yeah.” 

She’s here, how wonderful. And how awful, how quickly his heart seized and shuttered itself up at the thought of anything else. He can’t think about that too much, what that means. What danger that creates and threads through his ribs. So he focuses instead on breakfast, close in the kitchen, coffee for her with cream and a spoon of sugar, how he has found she likes it, silent sliding it across the counter to her where she’s stirring eggs in the pan. Always a thank you. 

The table in the kitchen is so small that he has to keep his chair scraped back so his knees won’t brush against hers, making space for her to spread out. 

“Thank you, for letting me stay so long. I know it’s not– you’re probably–” She stops herself, a sigh, chin tucked down. He could almost laugh, because here she is thanking him for what he was so afraid she didn’t want. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you’re here, for as long as you’d like to be.” Trying to make it clear that this is not a cage, though the words still feel thick and foolish coming out. She swallows a careful bite of her breakfast, not looking at him, and again, he finds himself bracing for flight.

“I like being here.” 

....................................

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[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 1

Josh x male OC

I tried to write this in a way that you don't necessarily have to read Better in the Morning if you don't want to, and I suppose you don't, but there are quite a few mentions of things that occurred or that were discussed in BitM. It may make more sense if you start there, but I don't think it's a requirement.

With that being said, this one is not going to be for everyone. Parts of this are going to get VERY dark. Each individual chapter will have its warnings, but I am going to go ahead and disclose that this will include a significant amount of child abuse, and in later chapters, domestic violence, which can be very triggering for some to read. There may also be mentions of religious trauma, something that is particularly difficult for me.

On that note, if you choose to read, I hope you enjoy and thank you for being here. And please forgive me for what's going to transpire.

/////

MASTERLIST

This fic is heavily inspired by music from the Ballroom Thieves. Take a listen on Spotify: Fistfight

word count: 2100+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: language; anxiety; depression; unspecific undiagnosed mental illness; mentions of alcoholism and vehicle accidents; mentions of hospitals; a very tiny mention of sex if you squint

I’ve always hated the rain. I hate soggy clothes and wet socks. I hate the sounds of it beating against the windows like an angry beast trying to gain entry. I hate the booming thunder. I hate the flashes of lightning, especially the burning smells when it strikes something. It keeps me awake, in a constant state of anxiety, preventing any semblance of peace in my rattled mind.

But Josh can sleep right through it.

He’s been my anchor during the storms, keeping me on solid ground. His soft snores, and sometimes not-so-soft ones, give me something other than the rolling thunder to focus on. I listen to his steady breaths and the occasional words he mutters in his sleep.

I never meant to fall in love with him, but like a spell that I cannot break, he pulled me into him. I’m hypnotized. This feeling is foreign to me, the feeling of caring for someone like I do for him. And I don’t think I will ever want to let him go. But eventually, he will inevitably find out who I really am, that I’m not a good person, and he’ll leave. He will find someone better, someone he deserves, and hopefully someone who deserves him. Until then, I will hold onto him as tightly as I can, and just hope I don’t ruin him.

It was months ago when I disclosed to him that I’m an alcoholic, fully expecting him to be revolted and to decide he wasn’t interested anymore, but that’s not what happened. There was pity in his eyes, an inescapable casualty I imagine, but not once did he ever treat me like I was less than a man because of it. When I told him about the accident, I never felt any judgement from him, nor any pressure of guilt, although I didn’t particularly need any help in that department. He told me was proud of me for working so hard at staying sober, but I’m not sure if I really earned that.

I had kept everything to myself for so long. I never even told Kya, my best and only childhood friend. I don’t know why I didn’t; I knew she would never judge me for those decisions I made. And she proved me right when word eventually reached her ears. Josh was so angry at her for bringing the liquor that night. I tried to explain that she didn’t know, but he had convinced himself that she was trying to sabotage me. I was annoyed that he wouldn’t listen to me, but he became so fiercely protective of me that I soon forgot my irritation. No one had ever shown that kind of passion in my defense.

Then Josh’s little brother Sam got into a car accident. It took weeks for him to come back from what seemed like the brink of death. I was with Josh when got the phone call. I clearly remember how he paled when he heard the news, and the heavy sense of impending dread that seemed to hang overhead. He was upset, rightly so, and practically shaking with worry, and fear. I did not want him driving alone, so I tagged along to the hospital.

Why are they always so cold? You would think a warm, cozy atmosphere would be more beneficial to the healing process. Instead, you’re plagued by the fluorescent lights, incessant beeping, and constant poking and prodding. They smell of formaldehyde, reminiscent of sickness and death. It made my skin itch, like hundreds of invisible bugs trying to burrow into me. I hated being there at the hospital, and more often than not I had the urge to leave, but then Josh would lay his head on my shoulder, tears staining his cheeks, and I knew I couldn’t leave him.

Sam was released from the hospital and is okay now, and Josh is finally home getting some much-needed sleep. I assumed he might want to be alone, but he surprised me yet again when he asked me to come over. He asked me to hold him when the events of the last few weeks caught up with him and the dam broke. I couldn’t understand why he was still crying; his brother was home and recovering. The worst was over. Perhaps I couldn’t wrap my head around it because I don’t know what it’s like to love someone on that deep of a level and come so close to losing them. So, I did as he asked, keeping him held to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around him, until his body gave out from exhaustion, and he slipped into sleep.

It's almost dawn now. I’ve been awake since the rain started. How long has it been… an hour? Two? I tend to lose track of the time quite often. Josh is no longer latched onto me. Instead, he is on his back, arms sprawled out above him and one leg sticking out from under the blanket. I’ve gotten into the habit of watching him while he sleeps, still in a state of utter disbelief that someone like him was ever even remotely interested in me. But he doesn’t know me, not really.

The storm is worsening. The rain is hitting the window so hard I think it might break. I try to focus on the man sleeping next to me as my heart rate quickens. The room is still dark, so all I can see is his silhouette, but I’ve taken the time to memorize him, the shape of his nose, the small scar on his left cheek, the way his eyelashes sit against his skin when he closes his eyes. He’s always so soft and he smells like vanilla. Even after we’ve spent the night tangled up in each other, me buried deep inside of him, both of us covered in the scent of sweat and sex, I can still smell a hint of vanilla. There have been times when I’ve convinced myself this is all a vivid dream, because there’s no way that he’s real.

A particularly loud shock of thunder rings out, and I involuntarily squeeze my eyes shut. Breathe in. Breathe out. I feel myself starting to slip, but I can’t let myself, not here, not where he can see. I’m fighting to pull back and I don’t hear the rustling of the bedding next to me. My eyes shoot open when something softly brushes my cheek.

“Finn? You okay?” Josh’s eyes are on me, still drowsy with sleep, his features painted with concern. It’s daylight. When did that happen? And although the sky is still darkened by storm clouds, I can see his face now. “You were making noises. I think you were having a nightmare.”

Was I? “I’m good. Sorry if I woke you.”

“Not you. The thunder, I think.” He rubs his eyes and scoots closer to me, draping a warm arm across my chest.

The storm raging outside chooses this moment to remind us that it’s still there. Another impossibly loud boom reaches my ears, and despite my pathetic attempt to control myself, I jump at the sound. I expect him to laugh, to poke fun at me for being spooked by something so stupid. He doesn’t. “These Tennessee storms are wild, sometimes.” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck, and I breathe him in. “You ever been in Michigan during a snowstorm?”

“I don’t think I’d want to.”

He chuckled. “I definitely prefer the rain.”

I keep my thoughts on the topic to myself. I envy him for how easily he finds the silver lining in every bad situation. He sees beauty in all things, even where all I can see is destruction, and where all I can feel is hatred, anger, and fear.

It’s not as if I haven’t tried to work on it. I’ve seen therapists, taken medications, prescribed by psychiatrists, and attempted the holistic route with yoga and meditation. When those all failed, I resorted to self-medication. I was never one for how hard drugs made me feel, so I stuck with alcohol. I would have drowned myself in it, with no concern for how it affected those around me. And then everything changed when I saw myself in that little boy that I almost took everything from. I didn’t sleep for days after the accident, and I had nightmares about it for weeks. I saw that little boy in every one of them. I should have died that night; I was sure of it. I was convinced that fate made a mistake. I wanted to fix the mistake, to remove myself from the world that I didn’t deserve to be in, but I was too much of a coward to follow through. And most days, it feels like I’m being punished for it.

I’ve trained myself to be very good at hiding whatever battle I’m waging in my head. If masking was an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist. But every once in a while, I lose my grip on reality and fall back into myself, into the memories of all the things I can’t escape from and that made me what I am today. Josh makes it hard sometimes. He’s just so fucking curious about everything. I know he means well; it’s perfectly normal to want to learn all you can about your partner. But when he pesters me for information I don’t want to share, it makes my blood boil. I bite my tongue, though. And when I meet his big, ‘baby cow eyes,’ I know I can’t stay mad at him. Something about him, something almost magical, draws me back into him and quenches the flames that threaten to burn me alive.

One afternoon during a particularly lazy day, he had planted himself on top of me as I laid stretched out across the couch. He was bored and fidgety, aching to get up and do something. So, he resorted to seeing how much he could annoy me. When I got sick of him poking at my sides and biting me like an angry piranha (he really is so childish sometimes), I abruptly sat up, pushing him backwards and pinning him underneath me on the opposite end of the sofa. It scared me how easy it was to overpower him, but he just laughed. It was all part of the game, and I was still in the running. “Are you finished?” I made sure to hide any sign of real irritation and grinned playfully. I couldn’t stand the look of hurt that would show in his eyes if he thought I was unhappy with him.

His brain jumps between topics and ideas quicker than I can keep up. It always makes me falter when he changes the subject so suddenly. “Why don’t you have an accent?”

“Uh, what kind of accent am I supposed to have?”

“Well, Kya has that southern accent. It gets stronger when she gets mad,” he giggled. Pissing off his twin’s girlfriend seemed to be a favorite hobby of his. “You’re both from the same place, so why don’t you have one, too?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I left West Virginia when I was pretty young. I guess it just didn’t stick.” The truth was that it was intentional. I hated to hear the remnants of that place in my own voice, so I forced myself to break the habits that gave way to the southern drawl. It’s more difficult to keep it on lockdown when I’m intoxicated, though.

I could tell he wanted to say more on the subject but thought better of it, and I was subjected to another sudden change of topic.

I don’t think I’ve ever met someone that talks as much as he does. He’d ramble on about absolutely nothing for days if I let him. He’s loud and has an obnoxious habit of talking over people. He can be immature and stubborn, impossible to deal with once he’s made his mind up about something. And it drives me to want to rip my hair out how nosy he is, always wanting to be in everyone’s business. But on top of all that, he’s intelligent, he’s funny, and oh so sweet. He’s a brilliant ray of light in an otherwise dreary world, and my heart wants to sing for him.

He throws his leg over the top of one of mine, drawing us ever closer. It’s a little too warm under the covers, but I’ll manage. I run my hand through his curls, plush and messy, before placing a kiss on his head. I hear his breath even out and I know he’s fallen back asleep. I start to doze off after him, and I notice the storm seems to have let up, too.

TAGLIST @hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389

[raenizza]

Post-Workout

Sypnosis: Jey pulls up to the house after his long workout with his brothers. He originally planned to be home at an earlier time to help the Reader prepare dinner, but it has been over two hours since. In order to make up for it, he bought her flowers and her favorite candy to sweeten her up for his lateness while also laying down another surprise for her.

Characters/ Pairings: Jey Uso x Reader, Jey Uso x Black Reader, Jey Uso x OC, Jey Uso x Black OC, Jey Uso x Y/N

Word Count: 2,688

Warnings: Cursing, WAP, a little bump and grind, creamy glizzy, and some good ole luvin’

Author’s Note: Hello my loves! It has been a while since I’ve written something so I decided to surprise yall with something short and sweet to read over the weekend. Enjoy 😊

~~

“Aight y’all, I gotta hit the road” Jey says to his brothers after placing down the weights and moving towards the lockers to get his gym bag. 

“Already? Bro we just started” Jimmy chuckles. 

The boys planned to do a quick 3-hour session in, but then 3 hours quickly turned into 5, due to their competitive nature. Jimmy and Solo stopped their routine and stood up from their machines as they watched their brother gather his things. 

“Uce it's just 30 more minutes. It won’t take long” Solo spoke out. 

“Nah man, I gotta go. I promised y/n that I’d be home like 2 hours ago.” Jey responded to them heading in their direction.

“Maaan she goin be aight, we just got finish up this one last set-”

“Listen, yall can get it done without me, aight, I really gotta go. Plus I promised her” 

Jey said to his brothers as hugged them goodbye and sprinted tothe front of the gym.

“Uggggh, fine. But you owe us!” Jimmy said.

“I know, I’ll see y’all later, Love u!” he shouted as he opened the gym’s door.

“Love you too!” They both shouted back.

~

Jey realized how late it was getting and knew that he was going to have to make up for it big time. As he drove out of the gym's parking lot and headed down the main road, he pulled out his phone to give you quick call.

“Hey baby,” he said with such softness.

“Well Well, look who finally called. I was wondering when I was gonna get my husband back” you giggled on the other line.

“Look baby, I am on my way home now, aight. Imma be there in about 15-20 minutes tops.” He responded. 

“Mmhmm you said that, lemme check. about 3 whole hours ago.”

“I know I know I know things just got outta hand at the gym, you know competitive me and my brothers are plus we-” He stopped for a moment as he sat at the stoplight staring at the Target sign that lit up just a few miles down the road. 

“You know what baby, on second thought, make it 30 minutes.”

“THIRTY MINUTES?!?! Why?”

“ Don’t worry, I gotta surprise for you okay, just be ready when I get home.” 

You let out a deep negro sigh.

“Okay, just please come home safe, love” you ended the call. 

You wondered why he was so hesitant to end the call. Hoping that it was an actual surprise and that nothing actually happened to him on his commute home. You got up from the couch and entered the kitchen, looking at the mess you made from the meal you prepared. A small wave of sadness flooded you as you set aside his plate of food. The food looked amazing and came out great, hell it would’ve been perfect if he was here to enjoy it. You and Jey agreed that after his workout session, he’d come straight home and help make dinner, together. Like you always do with him, but sometimes things don’t work out as planned. And that’s okay, but when becomes a frequent occurrence, things start to change.

It’s not that you don’t mind your husband working and getting the things that need to be done, it’s just that some days you want him all to yourself. You want to feel his presence, his love, and warmth but due to the change in his schedule things have been quite difficult. You started to miss your man more often and try to spend every second with him as much as possible. 

After washing the dishes and putting dinner away, you swept up the kitchen making it as clean as possible. As you headed towards the staircase, you heard the machine for the garage door, open, indicating that your man has finally reached home. Excited as you are, you rushed towards the garage eager to grab the doorknob. But it sprung open before you could even get the chance. Jey’s beautiful face pierced out from the doorway. 

“IM HOMEEE!!” Jey said with his arms lifted in the air and the biggest smile on his face. Showing his bottom grills. He hugged and then picked you up all at the same time, flooding you with kisses and nibbles all over your face and neck.

“Ahhh!” you yelped out once he started to playfully bite your cheeks. You pushed him back, looking at the object in his hands.

“Are these for me?” You grabbed the large bouquet of flowers in his right hand.

“They most certainly are. They didn’t have any Roses, so I got these.” You looked at the beautiful bright pink carnation flowers and smiled at the kind gesture. Jey proceeded to go down on one knee, holding the flowers, and looking up to you. 

“Baby, I would like to apologize for my lateness, tonight. It won’t happen again, I promise you.” He handed the flowers to you. “Oh and one more thing.” Held in his other hand were three of your favorite candies. 

“I know you’ve been craving these for a minute now.” He said with a chuckle.  You laughed, grabbed the bouquet and kissed him deeply. 

“Thank you so much, baby. Your apology is accepted and I sure have” Trying to open up one of the candy bars. For a brief moment, the both of you stood there in each other's embrace, his cologne was so strong that even a few hours of the gym couldn’t stand a chance. All you could think of at that moment was how much you missed him. 

“I have one more surprise for you.” He said in a deep tone. Jey lifted you up, bridesmaid style and carried you up the stairs and into the master bedroom. He grabbed the bouquet and your candy from your hands and placed it on the dressing table. He placed you gently on the bed and started to undress you pulling off your sweatpants and t-shirt (his t-shirt to be exact) and worked his way from your beautiful brown thighs all the way up to your gorgeous face covering you with kisses, love bites, and massages. Before he reached your neck, he stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him with just his bright red briefs. You stopped him quickly.

“Wait, hold on baby. You’re not tired from the gym?” you asked with a concerned look.

“I got one more session in me.” He responded, going right back down to you. He finally reached your lips and started to kiss you slowly and intimately. The tip of his tongue swirls against yours as he exchanges saliva with you. You moaned in his mouth with every kiss, feeling him press his body against yours. You felt his dick harden in his undergarments as it grazed perfectly on your entrance. Jey slowly started to grind himself into you, without even stripping you down to your full nude. Kissing you still he grabbed his left hand and slid inside your damp panties, rubbing your already wet folds.

“Mmhmm baby, look at you. Already wet for me,” he said in between kisses. You couldn't help but only moaned as he spoke to you. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve felt like this, his heat mixing in with yours. He continued to rub your entrance, teasing you as his fingers would slide over your clit. You wanted him to pick up the pace just a bit more, and within a second he did. You grind your hips against his thick large fingers. ‘Fuck this feels so fucking good’ you thought. His breath was on your lips as he tempted to slide just one finger in, but he backed down instantly. He pulled his hand out from you and sucked your juices off his fingers. 

“Mmm you taste so good, baby girl,”  he says to you looking at your full lips. “Come taste it” as he kisses you again crashing his tongue once more into your mouth. It felt so good to have him in your face again. You closed your legs and started to shift your position a bit so you can kiss him even deeper. You feel yourself getting warm and hot as he slid his hand underneath grabbing your ass.

“I wanna cum so bad” you whispered on his lips.

“Mhmm, you wanna cum? Mmmmm” he moaned out

“We haven’t done anything yet baby, just kissing makes you wanna cum huh” he moans in your ear. You nodded your head in agreement. 

He pulled away and got up. Positioning himself right in front of you, Jey went straight to taking your panties off to unclasping your bra with the swiftness. He pulled his member out and began smacking it against your pussy lips.  As he slides the tip in, he let his spit fall directly on his shaft before fully entering and then making direct eye contact with you. Growling as your walls start to expand on his girth.

Jey started with slow and steady strokes, making you feel every inch of his dick, watching you moan in pleasure. 

“Oh you taking it baby, you taking that shit.” He says passionately on your lips. You felt him pump in and out of you slowly, making sure you adjust to his size just right. “Mmmm you feel so good.” you moaned out to him, as you dig your nails deeper into his tatted skin. Your eyes began to roll back as his strokes quickened. Moving at a much faster rate, you feel him holding your waist down as he fucks deep into you. You glance at the ceiling for a moment and then look back up to him in awe.  His gold Cuban link dangling over your face. 

“Mhmm mhmm, how that shit feel bae,” he said breathlessly in your ear.

“It. feels. So- mmmmhm.” You replied biting down on your lips and in between his strokes. Him pounding your shit felt so good you couldn’t even get any words out.

Jey slowed down a bit so he can reach his hand down to your pussy to rub your clit. He gently wrapped his free hand around your throat. This sent you over the edge, him pleasuring in ways only you could only imagine. Your pussy felt so good wrapped around his dick, taking him in. He watches you tense up at his strokes and as you moan in ecstasy. 

 “FUCK!.” he groaned to seeing your juices covering his dick, the room filled with wet noises coming from his deep strokes and his thighs slapping against you.

Jey then pulled you closer to him and decided to slow down for a bit, he lowered his head in the vape of your neck kissing it. He pulled back looking at you. 

“Look at my eyes.” You divert your attention from watching his waist and movement to his beautiful face, avoiding eye contact.

“You see how good you make me feel. Just look in my eyes. Can you see my desire for you?” he said in a breathy and lustful tone. You stared at the grills in his mouth, still not looking directly at him like wants you to.

“You see how bad I wanna fuck you. LOOK. AT. ME.” He grabbed your face instantly, forcing contact. You finally looked into his eyes. His beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes. He fucked you even deeper now that he made you look, his pelvis making a deep connection to yours. 

“That’s right baby, Look at me.” He says to you. You sensed your body feeling warm again, as you felt yourself coming close. Jey sensed this too and immediately stopped. “No baby don’t stop please don’t, keep goin.” You begged. 

“Mhmm, baby you gotta put in some work too,” he said as he slid out and laid on his back next to you. 

“C’mere. Come ride me.” He patted his lap signaling you to come. You quickly took position facing him. 

“Uhn Uhn turn around.” Shocked by this you turned yourself around, ass facing him. You arched a bit, so you can grab his tip gently placing it at the front of your entrance.

“Look at that. Look at that,” he says in between slaps on your ass, adoring every inch of you. He grabs your waist pulling you down onto him making it easier for the both of you. You started off slow, moving up and down at a good pace. 

“That’s it, baby. Keep going.” Jey started to grunt and moan. 

“Fuckkk” he whispered under his breath, watching your ass bounce on his dick made felt so fucking good. You felt his dick pulsate inside you, you started to pick up the pace.

“Mmmm yes, Daddy.” You breathed out to him, gripping your hips tiger, keeping that rhythm flowing. Riding him was always a favorite position of his and yours as well. You loved the satisfaction it gave you, his grunts and moans as you bounce on his dick, turns you on the most.

“Mmmhm That ass taking this dick. Gimme that ass baby” Jey growls under you. You proceeded to follow his request, giving him what he wants. Hell he deserves it. 

“ Ooouuu fuckkkk, that ass sounds so good on my dick baby! Shit!” He moaned out, this time slamming himself into you, fucking you right back, deeper and harder. 

From the sounds of your ass clapping echoes in the room, turning you on even more. Then on to the sounds from his Cuban link, heaving on his chest as he watches your ass shake all in his face.

His balls slapping against your clit made you cream so hard that it kept slipping out.

“Get it back in. Get. It. Back. In” he said through gritted teeth. You placed his dick right back at your entrance sliding it in. “Mmmmmm” you moaned out

Jey continued his pace from before but then quickly change positions. Instead of laying on his back, he got up and began hitting you from the back.

“Ouuuu Jey please-” you bawled out as your face is mushed in the mattress. Jey pounded himself into you, ignoring your cries. 

“Baby pleaseeee, please” You shifted your head forward looking at the full-length mirror on the wall in front of the bed. 

You watched your man focused on fucking you from behind. You started to feel yourself reach your climax. He glanced up at you through the mirror.

You try to pull back just for a quick second because of how close you are. 

“You tryna push me away huh.” He says feeling your pussy grip on his dick. He knows you are close.

“Don’t run, cum on this dick baby.” He spoke to you through the mirror.

“Fuccckkkk.” you looked at him

“Cum on it baby, that’s it.” He says grunting. “Ouuu shittttt!!!” you screamed out, closing your eyes and gripping the sheets. You came at the exact moment, as he started to fuck you even harder, reaching his own climax.

“That’s it, baby bust your fucking nut. Let that shit out.” He said fiercely. Jey felt himself reach his breaking point after watching you cum all over him. 

“Fuck I’m close as shit. Damn!” He looks down at the creamy substance covering his dick.

 You realized how much work he was putting in, and wanted to help him out a bit. So you fucked him right back, with the same steady pace. You turned your head around to face him, now locking eyes.

Jey bent down and gave you a quick sloppy kiss. 

“I'm bout to nut! Im bout to fucking- uhhhnnn uhhnn FUCK!!” he whined out grabbing your hips and putting you to a stop.

 “Fuck!” Jey pulled himself out and collapsed right next to you, taking a minute to catch his breath. You follow suit, laying on his tatted chest. Both of you panting on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

You looked up at him giving him soft kisses on his face. He held you in his arms, kissing you right back. You both stopped and gazed at each other for an instant, embracing each other’s love.

[bijouxcarys]

So. I have something I need to get off my chest because it’s really been bothering me the last few days and kinda made me a little self conscious when it comes to Roman but I do think it’s an important thing to talk about, whether or not people think I should be concerned about it.

So since I’ve been scouring Wattpad for some decent Roman fics, I’ve come across a lot of interesting comments by some readers and other fic writers that just kinda rubbed me the wrong way.

For instance, the OC is implied to be white, therefore the story is going to be “bad” and it’s their “sign to stop reading.”

OR,

The writer is implied to be white, so it encourages a similar response to the one above.

I understand that when we read fanfictions, we subconsciously look for what we relate to. We want to see ourselves in the story, which is why reader inserts are so popular in this specific genre of writing.

However, the skin colour of the author shouldn’t fucking matter. Why are we so bothered about that? Are we that shallow that we make an automatic judgement of what the content is going to be based off of the pigmentation of the creator’s skin??

So I was already pissed off about that and then I personally got an anonymous ask (that I ended up deleting because it genuinely upset me and I didn’t want to give that person the platform to spread that kind of negativity), essentially saying that I should stop writing Roman fics because I’m white and I don’t know what I’m talking about etc etc…

Let me just clear one thing up, yes I am fucking white. But I know that I am also a decent writer. Like every other writer out there, there are areas for improvement, no shit Sherlock. But should the colour of my skin determine my talent as a person? Well I thought not, but apparently there is a certain attitude towards white Roman writers that’s just unnecessary and, quite frankly, ignorant.

Anyway… guys, nobody gives a fuck about what colour your skin is, just write and fuck everyone that has a problem with something as shallow as that.

I’m gonna continue to write Roman Reigns fanfiction, and to that anon, suck my dick n choke 🖕🏼

[lnbeep-art]

I have acquired a new OC (design by MysticCloud!) that is not quite Deity, yet not quite mortal either. She is an Archdevil, a child of the Lord and Lady of the Hells. Her name is Silkie!

She is the playful and willful sort with some size-changing abilities that affect others as opposed to herself. Like with D&D Reduce spells, she can shrink others. This happens a lot with the Imps around Hell who are tasked to watch her whenever she leaves for the Material Realm (the Highest Imp in charge, the one who raised her and favored by the Lady of Hell, is something of a helicopter parent). Shrinking the imps just makes them easier to hide for her, or shoo away when they’re that little. 😔 She could grow others too, but as a being from the Hells, she maintains some arrogance and hates people looking at her like she’s beneath them. So it’s very rare she does the flip side of Enlarging someone.

You might be able to tell with her eyes, and hooves, that she’s got some goat features as well, because she is. I’ve also modeled her personality similarly to Fearne’s from Critical Role…so if you know how Fearne is, you have a good idea how Silkie is tbh. Chaotic Neutral.

Silkie—like most demons, devils, and imps—can be summoned by powerful Warlocks or aid certain Paladins via pacts, but she is not above using loophole clauses/contracts to maintain freedom and autonomy. Hence, most of those warlocks occasionally end up smaller than they remember themselves being and pocketed during traveling as part of her rules… She’d say that’s a fair trade! In our current plot idea, she travels the Material Realm with a few other gals who are demigods or young gods-in-hiding and is on the older side. Age doesn’t mean much though, since she’s pretty naive.

[iheartgod175]

Some Thoughts (Mostly ZP, but still)…

—I’ve kinda hopped back onto the Zula Patrol train again since writing Turnabout, but I am planning on doing art and stories for other fandoms, too, of course ^^ I actually worked on chapter 4 of DCR and some more of Love Language for the first time in a month! Which is amazing progress since I had both writer’s block and worries that maybe a lot of folks aren’t interested in the story. But even if that were true, it’s not going to stop me from posting stories, especially about my favorite childhood show ^^

—I went a bit in depth about an OC who gets some focus in both DCR and a few other entries, Firestorm, who’s a military commander in one of the other Zulean branches (I’ll detail my own headcanons on the structure of the Zulean government in another headcanons post) and is one of the few people that Bula gets along with outside of his team because like him, she doesn’t tolerate the BS/corruption that goes on in the government. And somehow, I got the idea that in an alternate universe, they end up as a couple. It has me cracking up because now, I have three potential love interests for Bula: Zeeter (with whom I can see happening even in canon), Bonnie (my old OC whom I’ve revamped and even have a solo story for), and now Firestorm (who might get teased in the future). Bula’s literally building his own harem, LOL XD

—And then it got me thinking that if Bula’s a typical “clueless harem protagonist” (although unlike them, he makes himself useful and isn’t admired due to some random skill he has out of nowhere), Ricochet would be the “smug harem protagonist with a heart of gold” in that he dated Denise, Diane, Melissa, and many other women before he settled down. Also, in a few AUs, he does have a better relationship with Serena, Denise’s outlaw sister, and their relationship borders on UST. Silly thoughts are silly, LOL

—I’ve also had an idea regarding the Third Sight ability. Originally, this ability has no offensive capability in any field whatsoever. But then I had a thought: what if there was a way, theoretically, that a user could hurt/even kill someone with their mind? It came about from a thought that DS! Elfilis (with whom Multo interacts with in my latest crossover) could totally do this easily, since he’s basically seen as a god (although he’s mortal) and he’s a lot more powerful/experienced with his psychic powers. Not to mention that between him and Multo, his cruel streak is not only bigger, but also more terrifying. It got me thinking that the Zuleans who have the Third Sight can do this same thing, namely in a moment of pure distress/fury, stemming from the desire to make the perpetrator feel every ounce of pain they felt at watching their loved one get hurt/killed. The name for this attack is called “Flashpoint” (or at least, it’s a working idea for a name). I had the idea that Multo accidentally stumbles across this ability after someone got the great (read: stupid) idea to hurt Zeeter or any of the others in front of him, and unable to physically defend them (due to being trapped), he’s filled with both horror at his loved ones being hurt, and pure rage at the perp, wanting nothing but for him to feel that same pain and worse. Cue that happening to the perp, with the guy literally losing his mind. With Multo being the kind of person he is, he’s shocked/horrified that he can do such a thing. One of the villains in my current WIP, Nova, takes an interest in Multo after finding out about him using this.

—And now, a part of me wants to do an alternative version of Multo that’s evil. That would be pretty terrifying. O.O

—Oh, I’m also thinking of getting back to The Return of the Phantom Empire soon, thanks to working on Firestorm’s profile. Just trying to work on the general plot of the side story, which focuses on Quick Draw McGraw, and possibly Quack-Up, namely in regards to the trauma he suffered before he joined the Galactic Guardians. This chapter isn’t gonna be quite as long as the first three chapters, but that might change, lol XD

[starrysnowdrop]

Why Hali/Aymeric?

This is something that I’ve been wanting to write up for a long time now, and I’ve finally been able to get my thoughts down properly. For those who have been around for a while might be used to my ship by now and can see how their chemistry is, but I know I have some newer followers that might be interested in this explanation. Or perhaps you’re just curious even though you’ve been here forever. Either way, I thank you in advance for taking your time to read this! See under the cut below.

Updated: 09/21/2024

So, you might or might not know that Hali is actually not my first WoL OC. Before Hali, I had made an Auri Hingan Samurai woman named Yume Aino, whom I first created back in 2019, shortly after the release of Shadowbringers (Yume’s blog can be found here: @firelightmuse). I didn’t realize it at first, but because of how I had written Yume, as a stoic, no nonsense warrior through and through, but also someone who was dealing with a lot of trauma and trying to find purpose in her life, I soon had a really hard time shipping her with anyone. Over the years I had tried shipping Yume with Cid, G’raha, and I briefly thought of Artoirel, but I now have found her perfect ship with Zenos. Before any of them, however, my first choice of an NPC ship was Aymeric.

Why Aymeric? Well, it took me quite a while to realize that a huge part of me wanting to ship Yume with Aymeric as a first choice was a very personal one. Aymeric was the first character in FFXIV that I completely fell for. Though I enjoyed the characters of Cid, Haurchefant, and G’raha in ARR, it wasn’t until we meet Aymeric in the Pre-HW patches that I had gotten attached to the world and the story through finding a favorite character of my own. Aymeric is so special to me, and that made me try to ship my only WoL at the time with him. But as you can see, that ultimately didn’t work out.

It didn’t work out because Yume and Aymeric didn’t vibe well with each other. There was a severe lack of chemistry between the two. I had realized that Aymeric is much too polite and respectful of decorum to break Yume out of her shell to make a deeper connection than just comrades that respect one another, and I didn’t think Yume was the kind of person that Aymeric would come to love either, as she would likely remind him of the many Ishgardian nobles that he was around all the time, for many reasons which I won’t elaborate on here due to brevity. And as I didn’t have any other OCs at the time, I just continued developing Yume and an NPC ship with Aymeric was discarded. Although I personally was very saddened by that, I thought it was the right decision for both characters.

Yet, I continued having trouble writing any kind of ship with Yume over time. After a few years, as I kept getting frustrated with the ships I was trying to write for her, I got inspired to make another WoL OC that would be different from Yume in every way. She actually would end up being much more of a self insert than I ever expected, but nonetheless I fell in love with the pink haired, happy go lucky Lalafellin woman who would become Hali Aloke, my pride and joy.

As I got Hali through base ARR and into the ARR patches, I didn’t have any intention on trying to ship her Aymeric and to try a WoL x NPC ship with him a second time, as I actually had intentions to ship Hali with Krile later on in her WoL journey.

But everything changed once Hali met Aymeric in 2.4, the lead up to Heavensward. I saw them in the cutscenes together, and as ridiculous of a height difference they had, I still couldn’t help but giggle and squeal whenever they were together. They just were incredibly adorable, and I couldn’t hold myself back. I just had to try to ship Hali with Aymeric.

So I decided to try to write a few prompts with them together and see how their dynamic was. And it was even better than I had expected. Their chemistry was so amazing, and the dialogue between them flowed quite effortlessly. Not only was I highly impressed and kept getting inspired to write more and more, but I got a ton of positive feedback from so many people telling me that they loved Hali and Aymeric together.

And I guess that was that. I have never looked back since. Hali x Aymeric are my everything (well besides Yume x Zenos now of course); my ship makes me so damn happy. Just looking at them makes me smile and want to write and gpose more. I can’t get enough of them. It’s to the point now that I don’t know if I could ever write a ship better than Hali x Aymeric. And you know what? I don’t even want to try at this point.

I still can’t fully comprehend how a pink haired, bubbly, sunshine of a lalafellin woman and a noble, brave, and charismatic Ishgardian knight could be such a beautiful and dynamic couple that would not only bring me endless joy but also keep inspiring me far more than anything else I’ve ever written. It is utterly beyond my comprehension, but somehow it works. And I am forever grateful that I just followed my heart and wrote what I wanted, and not for anyone else’s approval, but my own.

I somehow hope this helps inspire someone out there to not be afraid and just go for the ship they want to write for, despite what the fandom at large says. Trust me, it’s worth it.

[liv000000]

You reblogged a post about how fanfic writers feel discouraged over negative comments or no comments at all. I hope you haven't been receiving any nasty anons over your work. Idk if you've written for other fandoms but based on how good your HOTD fic is I'd assume you have.

The writing for Family Duty is honestly so good, it's such high quality writing as well. I haven't read fanfics in years and your work blew me away. You got into Helaena's head in a rather interesting and creative way, almost unashamed either and showed how someone as sweet as Helaena can be very nuanced (unfortunate that the HOTD showrunners are scared of that) yet it doesn't feel very OOC. As I was reading I felt dread and anxiety for her which I think is hard to elicit in writing alone. You made her feel very human (Condal could never) reminds me of how Sansa. You wrapped Helaena in many contradicting layers that just make sense for her.

Your prose is lovely and I find myself rereading your fic quite a bit during commute because of that alone. Your attention to detail is unmatched and I love how you managed to remember so many itty bits from the show and book that most people overlooked (like Alicent's reluctance/refusal to betroth her children to each other because incest = sin). you also created many lovely OCs (the ladies in waiting which...Helaena should have but show is too broke i guess).

Just wanted you to know you have a silent fan rooting for you, your fanfic healed me lol.

Sorry if my comment is clunky and not really elegant but I wanted to brighten up your day or make you feel better about your work.

(Also please don't feel like you have to rush anything. Tyt with your work assuming you're still working on it. You're the captain of your fanfic I don't want you to feel like my message is in any way pressuring you yo write or finish anything I just wanted to show you a lot of appreciation especially from a fan that never interacts with fanfics in fandom)

Aww, thank you so much. This seriously made me tear up, and I appreciate your concern deeply. I haven’t received any mean comments; all the feedback I’ve gotten, though few (for a chapter I spent four months on), has been very positive. They all praised what I worked incredibly hard on — Helaena, and her character beyond prophecies and bugs, focusing instead on her internal conflict, which is Aegon. What I was mostly speaking about is how I feel like my work hasn’t reached many people. I think this is partly because I was in another fandom beforehand, where the community was much more actively engaged and still is to this day. The HotD community, on the other hand, seemed to disappear after the finale, which I can’t blame them for, as the season was atrocious, and what they did to Team Green is unforgivable. I also recognise that I need to promote my fanfiction a bit more and make it stand out, as Ao3 is definitely oversaturated, and it’s hard to find what you’re looking for on there. My lovely friend, @immortalthunderstorm, on the other hand, has received ill-intended comments. I’ve seen how hard she works on her story, and it’s beautifully and incredibly written in every aspect. I sigh when people don’t understand what she’s aiming for in her narrative and are unkind toward her OC. I highly encourage you to read her story, as well as those of my other talented moot @serymn31. She also specialises in Helaegon and is a much faster writer than I am.

and, https://archiveofourown.org/works/55743268

I cannot thank you enough for your praise on Helaena and for noticing all the attention to detail. I spent many hours thinking about and writing this, trying to perfect everything to the best of my abilities. Knowing that it hasn’t gone unnoticed truly warms my heart. It reassures me that the time I spent wasn’t wasted, that I am a capable writer when imposter syndrome kicks in, and that I’m making people feel something in this community, which HotD, with its second season, didn’t manage to do beyond causing annoyance. I also want to thank you for comparing Helaena to Sansa. That really made me emotional, as Sansa was my comfort character when I was younger, and as I write this now, I have a little bird necklace around my neck in honour of her. It means so much to know that the connection I’ve drawn to her in Helaena resonates with others and fits the story I wanted to tell. To know it also healed something in you is so beautiful, and I cannot put my feelings into words, as they’re so profound.

Please don’t apologise for your comment. You don’t have to be silent! If you ever want to reach out for recommendations or discuss my fanfic in more detail, you’re more than welcome to do so. Part II is also more than halfway done, but it’s quite long since I struggle to write short chapters and tend to overwrite. I’m also in the middle of the first three chapters of another fanfiction, which will be much larger and more fleshed out. I’m already in love with it! It features the pairing of Aemond and Rhaena and will explore political intrigue, a cat-and-mouse game, tragedy, repressed romance, and a very unusual father-daughter relationship. I hope that interests you or anyone else on here.

You didn’t just make my day, you seriously made my week. I adore you so much for that. Thank you for bringing a smile to my face and brightening my spirits. Your support means the world to me and I’m truly grateful for it. 🩵