#Kindle Technical help

[baronessvonglitter]

Daddy Can Fix It

handyman!Joel Miller x fem!plus size!Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Summary: All the housewives in your neighborhood rave about the local handyman. And with very good reason.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears dress and lingerie, has hair and body hair, and manicure. Reader's age not mentioned so there is only as much or as little of an age gap as you'd like. TW - fat shaming, food shaming, infidelity (by reader, and it's technically warranted) Pet names (daddy for Joel; sugar, darlin', baby, sweetheart for reader). Housewife/trad-wife vibes. Totally a bored housewife fantasy. Mention of female masturbation. Breast/nipple play, oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. Pussy pronouns. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped, but still.. this is fiction). Light spanking. Rough sex. Creampie. Joel's kind of a big ol' slut for the lonely housewives but is also really useful around the house, so you're definitely getting a good deal 🛠️

Author's note: it's been a hot minute since I've written a one-shot for Joel but it was impossible to resist. It all started because of this pic:

so yeah, Pinterest strikes again. How could I not write a Joel fic based on this? I hope y'all enjoy 💖

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"He can come clean my pipes anytime."

Raucous laughter erupts from the group of ladies huddled near the cupcakes at the latest book club meeting. You listen from the other side of the room where one of the older members is asking you to help her with her Kindle. "I never know how to keep up with all this fancy technology," Marion huffs, adjusting her bifocals.

You're trying to be patient with her, but the conversation across the room is far more intriguing. "It just needs to be charged. Your battery is low," you say three times before Marion can even hear you.

When you've managed to extricate yourself from her, you go up to the ladies and, with a friendly smile, join in. "I couldn't help overhearing."

Some of the women exchange glances, as if deciding to let you in on their convo or not. "Becky's just showing us that she got her kitchen cabinets redone," someone finally pipes up.

"That's not all she got," another starts to crack up.

You look at Becky's phone screen. The before and after shots of her cabinets are nothing short of miraculous. "That's great, Becky! I know you've been asking Gerald for a renovation for awhile," you tell her, hoping she'll be pleased you remember the plight she droned on about for weeks.

"It is great," she says, eyeing you with something like suspicion. "I have a very good handyman."

"He does everything," a nicer girl, Isabelle, chimes in.

"Boy does he," another mutters, hiding her smirk behind her cup of lemonade while the others giggle behind their hands.

Amirah adds, "He varnished my dining room table, power washed my driveway, helped organize my garage," she counts on her fingers. "He's good for little things around the house, and his prices are decent."

"It's like he's just giving it away," Becky says with a smirk and this gets the group laughing again.

"Maybe you can give me his information later," you say politely. "I have a laundry list of things that I need help with now that Wesley's working so much overtime."

The women eye one another, and it's Amirah, the leader of the group, who gives the definite nod. "Of course, sweetie. After the meeting."

"Great!" Smiling, you try to make your way through the group, saliva pooling in your mouth at the tower of red velvet cupcakes on the table spread. You reach for a couple more.

"You've already had three," Becky reminds you, casting a not-so-subtle glance at your body. Her voice sweet as honey but her words carry poison. You know you're not as thin or as glamorous as the other women in this room. You dress the same as them, wear your hair perfectly coiffed and your nails are always manicured, but just because you're not a size zero they deem you unworthy to truly be one of them.

You hold your head high with what little courage you have in the face of Becky's bitchiness, your sinful little cupcake in your hand. "I actually had three. And right now I'm about to make it five," you say sweetly, licking a swipe of cream cheese icing before putting two cupcakes on a china plate and going back to your seat.

That night, Wesley doesn't ask about your book club. He doesn't ask how your day was. He doesn't do much except pour himself a drink when he gets home and sit in front of the TV to watch the news.

You're dressed for bed, a modest robe over a red silk babydoll chemise, a purchase you'd made on a whim in the hopes that you could spice up your sex life with him which, truth be told, has never been more than lukewarm from the start.

"Do you think we should.. go to bed?" you suggest, a naughty tone to your whisper.

"It's early," he grunts, barely giving you a glance.

"I just thought we could spend some time together.." you brush your hand across his knee but he impatiently swipes it away.

"Please, darling, it's a weeknight," he looks at you as if you'd just suggested a threesome with him and the milk man. As he leaves the room he looks back at you, but the hope that rises in your chest is soon shattered when he shakes his head upon seeing your lingerie. "Red is for streetwalkers," he tells you before he goes into his study.

Daddy Can Fix It

You run your finger over the business card Amirah gave you, with all the handy man's information. The card shows his white company van with the logo emblazoned on the side: Joel Miller, Handyman At Your Service so it says in black lettering. There's a phone number and a website as well.

You dial the number, expecting to hear a secretary's voice, but you're greeted with a rich, baritone "Good mornin', thanks for callin' Daddy, what can I fix for ya today?"

Jesus, the voice alone is enough to get you flustered. And Daddy? You weren't expecting that. "Um, hi, I got your number through a friend and I'd like to see if you're available to come mow the lawn today." You peek out your curtains, seeing how the grass has grown taller than you'd like since the last time Wesley has cared enough to cut it.

"You got a lawn mower, sugar?"

"Yes, I do, um.. daddy.."

You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You can call me Joel."

"Joel. Yes, I do. Is there anything else you'll need?" New to the housewife lifestyle, you're still unsure of how to make such appointments. Before you met and married Wesley, you just mowed the lawn yourself, but your husband refuses to hear of his good and proper wife performing a menial act.

"Got any bushes that need trimmin'?"

You aren't sure why that particular sentence makes you feel the blood rush to your face. "I typically keep up with it on my own, when I'm tending to my garden."

Joel gives a small chuckle and it warms your insides. "That ain't no problem. Today around eleven good for ya?"

"Eleven sounds perfect."

"Pricing'll be about fifty, but we can come to an agreement once the job is done."

"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you." You give him your name and address, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment.

His van appears in your driveway just a minute before eleven. You're impressed with his timeliness. What you don't expect is the gorgeous stranger on your doorstep.

Joel Miller is tall, broad-shouldered, skin bronze from working out in the sun, and his dark brown hair is greying handsomely. If you had to guess his age you'd say fifties. He's in a grey tee shirt and work jeans. What stand out to you the most are his eyes: almost black in color, appraising you as you wait in the doorway, prim and proper housewife, lips parted, eyes wide.

He asks for you by name and you nod, chuckling slightly.

"If you can show me where the lawn mower is I'd be happy to get started," he offers, and the voice you recognize from the phone makes you melt.

You lead him outside to the garage and he takes out the mower, filling it up with some gasoline first. "Is there anything else you need?" you ask politely.

"No ma'am," he looks over his shoulder at you as he pushes the machine to the front yard. "Get inside and get outta this sun. I'll handle it from here," he smiles and it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.

From inside you watch him through the window, deftly maneuvering the lawn mower over, trimming the grass to a neat, short length. It's not yet the hottest hour of the day, but you see him sweating, and when he stops a moment to remove his shirt, you suddenly feel your pulse in the deepest part of your cunt. You wonder what it would be like to lick up every drop of sweat off his chest.

Like a slow motion scene from a movie, you watch the motion of his arms, the rippling of his back as he guides the machine over the lawn. Biting your lip you take in the sight of him, the determination on his face redirecting your thoughts to how he would look above you: hot, sweaty, hard, plunging into your drenched pussy.

How long has it been since you've had a man? Wesley prefers his Saturday nights like clockwork. But you want more. Stupidly thinking marriage was the best way to be treated right and fucked properly, you realized it was not the title but the man, and the particular man you chose was lacking in all area which mattered.

You aren't even sure you love him anymore.

But right now, watching Joel is a treat, and fantasizing about him is a little secret you'll harbor for later in the day when you'll inevitably find yourself using the showerhead attachment.

He finishes the front and back yards, and through the blinds you peep him putting his shirt back on, running a hand through his wavy curls before putting the mower away and coming to your door.

You answer it before he knocks. "Thank you!" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Please come in and we can settle payment."

He cleans the bottoms of his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside your home and following you to the kitchen. "You have a very nice home, ma'am."

"You're too kind," you're modest about his compliment, but it's thrilling to have someone say something nice about the hard work you put into keeping house. "Would you care for some iced tea? I've just made it fresh."

"I won't say no to that," he chuckles lightly, and you're happy to fill a glass with some of the fresh-brewed tea over ice.

Joel leans back against the sink, pouty pink lips pressed to the glass as he tips it back, opening just enough to take a sweet sip. You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, and you wish you could lick a stripe up along his the length of his delicious-looking neck to collect all the sweat that's beaded there.

"Is there anythin' else you need help with today?" he asks, his question carrying a hint of something more.

You blank for a moment, getting lost in the depth of his obsidian eyes, still caught up in your little fantasy. "No.. no, I don't think so." Taking a look around your eyes dart to every corner, taking mental stock of the upstairs rooms as well. "No," you finalize with a smile.

"If you're sure.." he says in that same low tone.

You give him fifty dollars and chat a little while he finishes his drink.

"If there's nothin' else I'll get goin'. Feel free to call me again if you need somethin' done, or looked at. Ain't nothin' I can't fix," he winks at you on your doorstep and you feel a waterfall in your panties.

Isabelle calls later in the day. "So? You had Joel over today, right? How'd it go?"

Dinner is in the oven and there's about an hour before your husband gets home. Phone on speaker, you start peeling potatoes. "It was fine. He did a great job. I'm sure I'll use him again."

Over the line you hear Isabelle sigh. "Isn't his dick beautiful? I swear, just thinking about it gets me so wet!"

You nearly slice a finger off, shocked by her words. Even though you're alone in the house, you pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "What are you talking about?"

"I think it's at least eight inches, and the way it curves at the end," Isabelle sounds like she's moaning.

"Okay, I'm lost. I hired the handyman that you and the others referred. That's who came over today."

"Exactly, dear! Did he fuck you? You don't have to give details of course."

Your brain is put on pause as only silence fills your throat.

"Oh dear," Isabelle continues. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

She sighs, possibly settling herself on her chaise longue out by her pool she's so proud of. "Joel Miller is a handyman, yes. But we also pay him a little extra for other services."

"Oh." You sink onto the living room settee, the closest thing to you.

"Mm-hmm. Mind you, it's not an all-the-time thing. But we've all had him. It's just something fun. You get some help around the house with your honey-do list, and then a good fucking after. Or whatever pleases you."

"And you.. you've.. slept with him?"

"I wouldn't call it sleeping, honey, but yeah I've been with him. It's all for fun. Nobody really takes it seriously."

"And everyone else at the book club?"

"Pretty much. Do you really think any of our husbands could compare to that god of a man Joel Miller?"

No, no you doubt any man could hold up to the stud who'd just helped you with the lawn.

He's on your mind constantly, but as tightly as Wesley keeps his wallet to himself, you can't validate having Joel's help every day. You make the choice to wait until the following week.

And what a long wait it is. Jealously you wonder whose house he's going to. Jackie down the street? Bitchy Becky with her face like a rat, no tits and no ass?

You consider calling Isabelle to beg for the details (which she'll probably give you without a fuss anyway). But a sordid part of you wants to find out for yourself. You already know he's well-endowed. He's at least twice as big as Wesley, who wouldn't know what to do with a big cock if he was blessed with one overnight.

A week to the day since he made his last visit, Joel comes back to replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. It's a job you've done yourself, perching on a stepladder, but it'll be more fun to have Daddy fix it.

The phone call to schedule him was practically foreplay. That smooth-as-chocolate voice had your panties drenched. When he's finally here, inside your home, inside your needy little cunt.

Your eyes rove over his form as he uses your stepladder, only needing the first rung. It doesn't stop you from staying right there with him, holding it steady on the other side. You hear his little grunts as he gets to work, watch his thick, strong fingers handle the batteries with a delicacy you can imagine he uses in other things.

Licking your lips, you realize you're face-to-face with the faded blue denim crotch of his jeans, those Levis hugging him tight in all the right places.

"I'm 'bout done here," he says, putting the smoke detector back in its place. "Anythin' else you need help with, lil' darlin'?"

Your hand presses to the bulge in his jeans, and you're delighted when you feel him twitch in response. "As a matter of fact, I do need your help with something else.."

"That right?" he murmurs, pressing your hand against him, letting you feel him grow hard under his palm. "Been waitin' to see if you'd ask.."

He steps down, keeps his dark eyes on you. "Pretty lil' thing like yourself don't get enough attention, huh?" he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

Softly you sigh, unashamed at how needy you've been for a simple touch. "No.. but I'd like you to help with that."

"That's what I'm here for, darlin'," he smiles, his thumb tracing your soft plump lips. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

"Everything," you answer quickly. "I'm not.. really sure what the usual is.."

His smile is kind as his hand traces down your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You want me to fuck ya, give ya somethin' nobody else is doin'.. that it?" He places your hand back on his bulge and you respond by rubbing him, your own cunt pulsing around nothing in excited expectation.

"Yes.. I need to get fucked," you agree emphatically, pulling him into your bedroom.

Now he's here, in your room, and you think you're dreaming. He's letting you take the lead, completely at your service. All the women in your book club were probably more open with their desires, knowing immediately what they wanted and how to get it. All the fantasies about Joel you've created and harbored in the deepest part of your heart are now as impalpable as gossamer.

"You tell me what you want, honey," he drawls in that molasses-rich voice of his. His hands gently trace your waist, smoothing down your dress as he moves towards your curvaceous hips. "God damn, I bet you look fuckin' gorgeous outta this dress. Wanna show me?"

Biting your lip, you nod, tugging off your apron and dropping it to the floor. Not gonna be a damn housewife while he's with me..

A tiny smirk on your face, you gently push Joel back onto your bed, and he rights himself with an equally mischievous smile as he watches you. He palms his hard cock through his jeans as you do a little striptease, tantalizing him as you slip your prim flower-print dress off your shoulders.

"There we go, baby," he growls as the dress falls down to your hips, your scarlet satin bra revealed, your breasts practically spilling over the cups, making Joel's mouth water. You turn around for his help in unzipping the bottom part of your dress, finally feeling free as it falls away, pooling at your feet.

Joel lets out a wolf whistle as he takes in the sight of you in your ruby undergarments, the same you'd tried to seduce your husband in. Now they're finally being put to good use. "Red's your color, gorgeous," he mutters, his hands on your hips, mapping out your generous curves and the soft rolls of your belly.

You've almost forgotten what it was like, this power to entrance a man and make him see you as the only woman in the world. Marriage to an uncaring and unfeeling idiot had left you cut off from your sexuality. Now you're reclaiming it.

Joel's hands travel back up to your waist, fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He unwraps you like you're the goddamn Christmas gift he's been begging for for months. His tongue wets his lips as your plump breasts are revealed. With one hand on your lower back, the other palms your tit with a rough hand. Your nipple rises to his touch and he dips down to swirl his tongue around it, gently coaxing it further with his teeth. Your head falls back as the sensation zings straight to your cunt. "Fuck, Joel.."

He smiles against the softness of your skin. "Sensitive here, huh? Bet these ain't been properly played with in awhile. Gonna change that right now." And with that he gives another hard suck, his dick already leaking when he hears your needy moan. He treats the other breast with the same attention. You take one of his hands and lead it to the drenched front side of your panties, but he stops you.

"Not yet, baby. Want you to see yourself before I fuckin' ruin ya."

You lay on your side on the bed as you watch Joel undress. It's a sight you won't soon forget: skin tan from working outdoors, with a smattering of chest hair that's also showing some grey, chiseled arms, and a happy trail that leads from his navel to the front of his boxers, which are tented. He wears a little smirk as he pulls them off and your reaction is priceless.

Joel is fucking hung.

You've taken big cocks before, but his is formed of pure fantasy, like a dildo from your favorite sex shop. Isabelle wasn't exaggerating about his size. And his cock is so beautiful you want to cry. Watching as he gives it a couple strokes, all eight thick uncut inches, the rosy pink tip glistens with precum, the veins and ridges prominent. Even the curve Isabelle mentioned is sexy, bound to hit all the right places inside you. His balls, rounded and heavy, move with his motions.

Thank God I did my yoga this week.

You beckon him to you, pulling the boxers away completely and dipping your head to taste him. Your tongue laves across the salty slit of his tip, and you relish the hitch of his breath. He's not here for you to please him, but it gets you wet wrapping your lips around his cock, suctioning your mouth and stroking upward from his base. When you start to massage his balls he stops you. "Don't wanna shoot too soon, baby," he says breathlessly.

He pulls you up off the bed and into a kiss, his hands playing along the edges of your panties as his tongue tastes yours. His cock, still wet from your mouth, nudges against your soft belly. "You deserve to feel good," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his tongue tracing the outline. At last he pulls your panties down, a rumble in his throat when he sees the sweet glaze between your thighs, glistening in your triangle of hair.

"Sit on my lap, baby. With your back to me," he orders in a soft growl.

His flesh is warm beneath yours, and god it feels good just to be touched again, to feel desired by someone. You haven't known it in so long. He sits back against the headboard, moving the pillows on either side. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist as he leaves soft, feathery kisses across your shoulder.

"So soft," he murmurs. "C'mon, baby, look at yourself," he nods to the mirror in front of you.

When you catch your reflection you're exhilarated at the sight: you, naked, with Joel behind you, kissing your neck, fondling your tits, thumb brushing over them and lightly pinching them to hardened peaks. "Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, getting started by brushing his hand from your knee to your petal-soft inner thigh.

It's lascivious, watching all this unfurl before you in the mirror. You're spread open, on full display. Your pussy is gushing over with need, and you trace your folds with your fingers.

Behind you, Joel's cock twitches, and he rubs himself lightly against your back. "Lemme do that.." he whispers, gently pulling your hand away, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking your juice off them. "So sweet," he murmurs, and your belly is hot with lust.

His touch is soft and careful at first, exploring you and figuring out what you like, what you need. It feels like he's memorizing every inch of you. His thick fingers glide over your lips, circling, teasing you so you'll beg him for more.

"Joel," you whine, lifting yourself to him, trying to get his hand to position itself where you need it most. But he evades you, a dark chuckle emanating from deep in his throat. "You're payin' me to do a job and I wanna do it right. Not fair to rush me."

Your eyes close in frustration. "Joel, please.."

"Nuh-uh. Daddy."

"Fuck," you whimper. "Please, daddy."

"That's more like it." His touch finds your clit, throbbing and needy, and you nearly see stars at the feeling. He presses once again before sliding two fingers into your warm, welcoming cunt. "Christ, she's really suckin' me in there," he grunts, shifting behind you as his dick becomes nearly impossible to ignore.

"Yes," you moan at the sweet intrusion, the easy glide of his fingers in your drenched pussy. "Just like that."

"So fuckin' tight," he says through gritted teeth. And Jesus, his fingers are thick, the calloused thumb swiping over your clit, making you twitch and your hips arch up for more. "She's pulsin' around me," he mutters, his rich voice in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. His fingers glide in, stretching you as you coat him.

"Ah, she's gettin' all creamy for me," he coos as he pulls them out a moment, licking off one finger and giving the other to you. You taste yourself, salty and sweet, humming in appreciation as you release his digit from your mouth with a pop.

He returns to his work, his hand pistoning against your folds, the squishy sounds of your soaked cunt beautifully obscene to your ears. Your voice trembles as you cry out, a sweet vibrato that resounds throughout the room as Joel's fingers curl in on your g-spot. He adds a bit more pressure to your clit as he tries to get you there. Moaning, he nuzzles his face into your neck.

It feels like you break open under his touch, hips arching up, swallowing his delving fingers deeper inside you as you spasm uncontrollably around him, a string of curses falling from your lips.

You barely have time to recover before he's on you again, moving in front of you as you lay against the pillows, like Venus in a Titian painting. His hands lift your thighs, softly kneading their thickness as he plants kisses on either side, trailing up to your cunt, your scent all around him.

"My husband never goes down on me," you whisper, heart racing as quick as a hummingbird's wings.

"Ain't he a waste of fuckin' space," Joel grunts, a wicked gleam in his eye as he dives in, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe upwards to your needy, throbbing clit. Your hands grab at his hair, pushing him forward as his groan is muffled by your sweet, saturated pussy.

"God.. damn!" you gasp at the delicious feeling of his tongue on you, lapping up every drop, tracing your lips and tickling your clit. He's relentless in his pursuit of making you come, switching up the tempo, adding a finger and then another, praising you when you cry out again. "Squeezin' so hard on me.. she's just about ready, ain't she?" Before he finally suctions his lips around your puffy clit and sucks, humming around it.

It's as if your soul leaves your body for a precious few moments, muttering monosyllables in sweet relief. You've never come so hard before, ever. And when you look up at Joel you wish you could worship him.

"Like the sweetest tea I ever drank," he says, licking his lips.

"Fuck me, Joel," you whine, still not fully come down from your climax.

"C'mere," he growls, putting you on all fours so you're facing the mirror again. You look at your reflection: hair mussed, eyes shining bright, skin glowing from your orgasm. Joel lines himself up behind you, smiling as you watch yourself. "Got every right to look at yourself, darlin'.. someone as fuckin' hot as you, with these hips, this ass?" He grabs one cheek and gives it a slap. You gasp, jolting forward, then wiggle your ass at him, wanting more.

"You a naughty lil' thing," Joel smirks, teasing your folds with his tip. "Wanna get this pretty lil' pussy ruined?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan, pushing back on him.

"Fuck me, I like the way you say that." He bites his lip as he continues teasing you. "Once I fuck you, you'll never let that limp dick husband of yours touch you ever again, I promise you that."

Your reply is cut off when you feel him nudge inside, your walls breached by his thick cock. "Oh god... yes!" you exclaim, clutching the bedsheets. "Fuck.. your cock is so huge.." You can feel the tip just kissing your cervix.

"Yeah, you like it? Like gettin' fucked by this big cock? Gettin' stretched out? Gonna leave a big ol' gapin' hole for your husband to come home to."

He bottoms out, grabbing your ass cheeks with both big hands, watching the smoothness of your skin as your cunt clenches onto him. "God damn what a pretty sight.. you oughta see this. Pussy's barely fittin' me as it is. Only tighter thing would be your little ass.." and he pulls out all the way to slam back in, glorying in the way you scream his name.

"There she goes, gotta get 'er used to me," he grunts, eyes on your swollen pussy lips wrapping his cock in a vise with each steady thrust. "Jesus, sweetheart. So tight I gotta try not to blow my load."

The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacts to him, is like gasoline on an already raging fire. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Say my name, baby. I wanna hear it." He quickens the pace, pressing deeper inside you.

"Daddy! Daddy!" you shout in time with each delicious snap of his hips. "My god, you're so fucking deep.." you moan.

"That's it, take all of me. You like the way I fill you?"

"Yes daddy!" Your fingers clutch the sheets as the bed rocks with your movements. "So full of you.."

He presses a hand to your abdomen. "Feel me there, baby? All up in your guts. No one else is ever gonna fill you the way I do. No one's ever gonna come close. This needy lil' cunt's gonna be cryin' for me every day until I come back and give her what she needs."

His dirty talk is getting you wetter, your juices running down between your thighs, making his cock all sloppy, the sound of it making you feral for more. "Fuck me, Joel.. fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme.." you mumble, face down, ass up, slack jawed as you drool on the sheets.

He speeds up, hips slamming against yours, balls thwacking under you. "Yeah? Want me to fill ya up, blow all this fuckin' load inside ya? Got snipped years ago, baby, 's up to you."

"Fill me up, make me dirty and messy," you groan.

"You want daddy to give you everything he's got, baby?" he repeats. "You want me to fill you til you're all messy and drippin' with me?"

"Yes.. yes please," you're barely able to get out.

"Fuck," he growls, grabbing hold of your hips as he pounds into you ferociously. Once he has control he places one hand on your back, keeping you pressed down as he angles himself to hit that delicious little spot inside and he knows he's hit it when you cry out, cursing and shivering, clamping down on him like a damn vise right before he lets go, streaming jet after jet of his hot come inside you. There's so much it's already leaking out while he's still inside you.

The rest of the week you make a list of things for Joel to do next time: perhaps check out what's going on with the washing machine, or maybe he could regrout your bathroom, or help you rearrange your living room furniture right before he rearranges your guts again.

Even Wesley notices the bright and cheery mood you're in, and how attractive you've become since taking on some of the home improvements. That weekend he does you a huge favor, and sits back in his armchair as he waits for you to discover it.

"Wesley? What were you doing in the garage for so long? I heard a lot of noise," you tell him, arms crossed, a look of suspicion on your face.

He looks pleased with himself. "Well honey, you've been so agreeable these past few days that I thought I'd cross off some little projects on your to-do list."

"Like what?" you ask slowly.

He lists off everything you've had planned for Joel to do in the coming weeks. Small things, of course, but Wesley has done all of them, leaving you with nothing for daddy to fix.

"I thought you'd be happy," he says, his face cloudy now that you're unhappy again.

"Happy? Not quite." You leave a moment and return with a hammer, heading towards your husband.

He cowers, ducking as you completely pass him by and swing the hammer into the drywall of the living room wall, over and over again. When you've let your anger out and Wesley is rightfully afraid of your next move, you simply smile sweetly, holding the hammer pressed to your apron with your well-manicured hands. "Looks like I'll have to call the handyman after all!"

dividers by @thecutestgrotto 👑

tagging those who showed interest when this baby was still just a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @clawdeewritesfanfic @manuymesut @bitccchmood @everybodylovedcontractors

[csuitebitches]

Reading tip for when you’re reading something educational (self growth, skill based etc)

When you start your self development journey / want to take it even higher, most of us turn to reading books or articles. We take notes and highlight the areas that we found impactful, we remember those points for a couple of days and then boom - we forget.

books are such a wealth of information but it’s not possible to read every single book you’ve read once multiple times.

you might find it frustrating that you can’t seem to remember all that information when you need to, or you keep racking your brains trying to remember exactly where you had read that particular insight.

here’s a method to help you out.

If you have a kindle / read online, make a Word doc/ pages doc of all the things you’ve highlighted. Copy the highlighted areas, which would be areas that you found hopefully/ intriguing/ interesting, and paste them on the word doc. Use only one document for all your notes of different books and every month or so, take about 30 minutes to rapidly go through them. if you read physical books, take a photo of the sentence/ paragraph that you liked, crop it out so that the other stuff isn’t there, and put that photo in the document.

this allows for a couple of things - information isn’t lost when you finish reading the book. Sometimes we find the solution to a problem too early and when the problem crops up, we don’t remember that we had already found the answer. Two, it allows for revision and three, you may see that with time, the way you understood that particular point changes.

this is not for fictional or fantasy books - this is for books that talk about self development, marketing, sales, technical know how, etc. Stuff that you should remember and would impact your progress positively.

[autistichalsin]

Some of my favorite voice lines (either because of the lines themselves or because of Dave's delivery) from this collection of every line Halsin had in the game (and some he technically didn't because they weren't Halsin lines at all, but lines other characters have that they had Dave record for some reason):

5:07 "Fancy a b-oink? Indeed, you'll be hard-pressed to find a joke I haven't."

8:26 "I am Halsin. First Druid of the Emerald Grove. And I am here to VISIT NATURE'S FURY UPON YOU!" (From his revenge scene if the grove is raided- just, brilliant acting, gives me the chills every time. Give Dave an award please)

10:10 "Karlach. I am glad you can enjoy the touch of another once again. And I hope you are afforded much more time than you've been told. A lifetime and more, if I have a say in it."

17:33 "Lae'zel could not have wished for a finer companion by her side. You truly love her, I can tell. Just... keep each other safe, please."

25:05 (Tav or Durge line) "Yeah, she's not coming back."

27:44 "Shadowheart. These truths that have been revealed to you... I know they must be painful. But Oak Father as my witness, I know you are strong enough to bear them. You need not walk this path alone."

34:08 "I am sorry, Gale. You tried. Mystra was wrong to turn on you, no matter what mistakes you made in the past."

35:57 "Time can prove to be a trickster on one's recollections. What would be multiple lifetimes for others now separate me from my captivity. Perhaps I have lost perspective on what happened to me."

39:06 "Re-education. As if this sect has not mangled poor Shadowheart's mind enough already."

41:59 "I need you!"

47:08 (Shadowheart line) "Let's see what comfort we can offer a grieving mother."

47:57 "You have carried this burden for too long already. I simply do not believe that ceremorphosis is the only course left to you! Orpheus must help us." (He is so protective of the player 😭 )

52:03 "We need to be gone from here- now!"

53:10 (Tav/Dark urge line) "In my name." (Amazing acting for that line, makes me wish SO BAD we could have Origin Halsin)

1:04:13 "A mindflayer?! What foul trickery is this?"

1:04:20 "I am no stranger to the Underdark. Cruelty comes to Lolth's followers as naturally as breathing. I have seen it- experienced it." (You can tell he still holds so much grief and anger over what happened to him in the Underdark.)

1:04:32 "Do not yield, Karlach. The world has need for you yet. I have need for you yet. Please." (The way his voice breaks here just wrecks me.)

1:10:13 "Let our enemies' corpses nourish the ground!"

1:13:20 "Gale, what's troubling you? We're nearly at the end, I know it."

1:14:52 (Tav/Dark Urge line) "That's what was in there? Those little shits."

1:21:26 "You have upended nature's balance. Only your death can restore it!" (From the Halsin revenge scene.)

1:24:31 "Last Light fell because you could not control the violence in your heart. All those people perished because of what you did to Isobel. You must try harder. You must be better."

1:24:26 "There must be no more Yennas."

1:25:39 "No, it's wooden. Um. I suppose it burns if you find yourself in dire need of kindling, but I hope it does not come to that." (Referring to his whittled duck)

1:35:12 (Karlach line) "Rest in peace, Astarion. You may have been a bloodthirsty murderer, but I liked you all the same."

1:37:03 "Death is nature's final slumber. It awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair. Not while there are folks in need of your help."

1:40:57 "Do not yield, Karlach. Stay with us. Stay with the ones who love you." (Just breaks my heart. 😭 )

1:43:28 "You deserve so much better, but alas... I understand. Do as you must."

1:57:27 "You seem to be mumbling to yourself- aren't I enough company for you?" (To Shadowheart)

2:08:57 "GLORY?! There's no glory here! Now there's nothing here. Only shadows, and the total absence of hope!"

2:09:37 "I see. Well. Perhaps not all friendships are destined to be balanced and reciprocal. But I remain eternally grateful for having met you, all the same. Rest well."

2:13:27 "We are. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor, the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."

2:16:26 "You worship Shar?! That umbral witch unleashed a plague of darkness on nature! Her followers slew many of my fellow Druids!" (So much pain and anger here.)

2:20:41 "It wasn't just power this needed! It was wisdom, understanding! I suffered along with this place for years trying to understand the curse! And it seems I will continue to do so."

2:21:46 Maniacal laughter (I can only imagine this happens if you get hit with Tasha's Hideous Laughter, and this one was incredible in that it SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME LMFAO I was so creeped out. HUGE props to Dave Jones for that one.)

2:26:15 (Dark Urge line) "In Bhaal's name."

2:33:13 "Poor creature! Locked in a cage, denied her true nature. Civilization would cause her a monstrosity, yet it treats her like this?!"

2:34:54 "What are you doing?! No!"

2:39:01 "Ah, but the glory can be found in the telling! The children love tales of underdogs, facing odds most unlikely! They shall appreciate your story, trust me."

2:40:20 "The Rite of Thorns? No..."

2:42:09 "I was not here to guide them. Now they rest forever, while I carry the weight of my failings."

2:52:35 "Nature cares little for nobility- it is pure artifice. But I can still hold some respect for Wyll's accomplishment. He shall be a fine duke, I am sure."

2:53:50 "Please. Don't sully the gratitude I feel towards you by making excuses for Kagha. My choice was clear."

2:56:01 (Orin-as-Halsin) "Please, wait. I did not want this. I could not stop it."

3:19:56 "Hmm. Perhaps I can substitute the bloodlust and, well, general lust for cuddles and animals in the retelling. The children will be confused, but no matter- they will soon be asleep."

3:23:38 "I am glad to have Gale back with us. The group would be poorer without his insights- and his company."

3:27:00 "That was no killing blow- far from it. What happened?"

3:27:49 "Silvanus guard us- what have you done?!"

3:29:58 "If this is what you truly want, I shall respect your wishes. But know that you shall not die, not truly. Nature's realm shall be yours- in the air, the trees, the waters."

3:32:27 "Don't do this! Your life!" (When a mind flayer character commits suicide in the ending)

3:34:47 Pained groaning (IDK it just sounded so damn real here, I could just imagine Halsin with a giant gaping wound or something here)

3:38:53 "The machine! It's going to blow!"

3:41:12 "Come on, you useless turnip!"

3:46:43 "You can still save yourself, Karlach. You can return to Avernus- it need not be forever. Just long enough to give yourself a chance..." (His voice sounds so small and pleading here 😭 )

3:48:12 (Dark Urge line) "In Bhaal's name." (Just a really good delivery)

3:48:54 "But... friendship is no consolation trophy. I cherish the bond we have forged. Whether it should grow into something else is... not for me to predict."

3:49:20 "Vampire spawn assailing us in the night? I thought we had ample troubles as it was. At least you are safe, Astarion."

3:51:00 "I was never afforded a chance to start a family of my own- serving nature always had to come first."

3:51:07 "You thought she was an imposter- a threat. This was a trap of Orin's creation. Yenna's death is on her hands, not yours."

3:51:22 "Your rage is most impressive, Karlach. If the lesson is not to provoke your temper, consider it well-learned."

3:59:04 "Ha! I suppose I did, didn't I? I was so focused on helping Thaniel that my sense of decorum was neglected."

4:06:02 "Truly? I thought you felt the same way as me. There was a connection, I-I was sure!" (Oh my god he sounds like he's fucking CRYING here and this legitimately made me whimper out loud and hide my face. I have NEVER needed to hug a character THIS BADLY before oh my god give Dave Jones all of the awards please)

4:17:03 "Oak Father, what did I do to deserve such allies?!"

4:18:03 "This... orb. Gale carries a most dire burden. I wish he had shared it with us sooner."

4:18:58 "Time for blood!" (In bear form)

4:19:31 "Karlach has had her mortality defined to her in most cruel terms. I do not know if we can help her, but perhaps we can at least be there for her."

4:23:19 "FINE!" (He just sounds so done lmfao)

4:23:20 "And yet, she fears there are none to inherit her work, so she goes on. Long life can be a burden at times- I know that well."

4:24:45 "You shall live on. And wherever I go, I shall feel your presence, and you mine." (To Origin Karlach in the ending- this whole scene would be really beautiful if they would just fix a few things)

4:27:55 "Your power is buoyed by a sea of innocent blood! I hope you are pleased."

4:28:26 (Tav/Dark Urge line) "In my name." (Gave me chills)

4:30:59 (Tav/Dark Urge line) "What in the hells, Astarion?! You bit me!"

4:32:39 "Remember, whatever evil is trying to control you, I know you are stronger. Resist."

4:35:08 Pained groaning and cries (They just sounded so real and painful)

4:37:11 "Dominate the brain! Do it now, or all is lost!"

4:47:46 "I will not go on without you!"

4:49:18 "Perhaps try attacking the enemy!" (He sounds so done lmfao)

4:49:25 "That contraption looks set to kill you, not save you! Get clear of it at once!"

4:50:27 "A cruel blow. Astarion loved feeling the caress of the sun, only now it gouges him with its claws. Perhaps we shall meet again, beneath the shield of darkness."

4:53:23 Maniacal laughter (Truly terrifying just like the other one)

4:58:49 (Yenna line [yes really]) "Where am I? I don't like this dream!"

4:59:04 "Nature bows to none. It will fight on and survive, no matter what madness your god has inspired you to undertake."

5:03:51 "Stuck, eh? Straight out of bawdy literature."

5:09:57 "Killing Orin won't bring Yenna back, but it may give her some peace, and me... a great deal of satisfaction."

5:11:26 "No! Have you taken leave of your senses?!"

5:15:27 "This may keep the city safe, but to seal all those unfortunates away forever? Death would have been more merciful."

5:16:44 "Stay your hand, Astarion! To sacrifice so many is a tyrant's ambition!"

5:16:52 "I... cannot imagine how you are feeling, Gale. For a goddess to ask a mortal to pay such a price... I am sorry for... for your burden."

5:19:44 "Immortal... and angered. What have I done...?"

5:20:43 "The power of the bear lies within me!"

5:22:47 "In that case, nothing more needs to be said. Farewell." (Said if a player who has low approval with Halsin at the epilogue party says they have no interest in taking the olive branch Halsin extended; I like this one because he sounds like a strange combination of sad and relieved at the same time, which is such a realistic combination of feelings!)

5:26:14 "Slain and stuffed. I would like to do the same to whoever's handiwork this is." (About a taxidermy baby bear)

5:26:19 "My heart grows heavy for Karlach. She can touch once more, yet is her remaining time to truly be so short? I shall pray to Silvanus that it does not come to pass."

5:32:10 "I... cannot imagine how you are feeling, Gale. For a goddess to ask a mortal to pay such a price... I am sorry for... for your burden. Though I wish you had told us of your predicament before."

5:36:33 (Orin-as-Halsin) "I lost control. I felt the bear take over, blood-crazed. And she forced me into a cage, along with... *sobs* with children, taken from the streets." (I think this one is a slightly different version than what ended up used? The sobbing is definitely more prominent if nothing else.)

5:39:28 "I hoped my friends would save me..." (Dave manages to make Halsin's body sound dead-corpse-emotionless and yet sad at the same time.)

5:39:45 "I hoped my loved would save me..." (Same as above)

5:41:08 "Your gold and your loins. Not for me to dictate what you do with either."

5:41:20 "You were not even born when Shar's followers slew my fellow Druids, or when her shadow curse tainted the land. I can get past those... but I truly wish you had trusted me sooner."

5:52:36 "No matter how long I live, I will never get used to the cruelty that infests our world. That such evil is allowed to breathe the same air as us is an abomination."

5:57:33 (Tav/Durge line) "In my name."

6:02:56 "Of course... somehow I'd hoped for a miracle, but of course... the only miracles are those we make ourselves." (He's talking about Karlach/her engine here)

6:03:57 "I was all too eager to surrender my responsibilities towards the Grove, and now it has been sealed away from the world! Perhaps I was never meant to be Archdruid... to be a leader."

6:08:29 "NO! Cease now, before you doom us all!"

6:09:22 (Dark Urge line) "In Bhaal's name."

6:20:05 "I shall endeavor to be more tactful when trying to make friends in future."

6:22:06 "You are afraid because you are alive, and you have something to lose. Hold onto that."

6:26:58 "You will not desecrate this grove! Not while I draw breath!"

6:33:00 "This need not be a parting, so long as you fight on. You and I can each roam apart, until nature compels our paths to cross once again."

6:41:42 "I shall miss him, though I hope he proves to be a kindly god. I've had my fill of the tyrannical sort."

6:42:29 "Do as you must, as shall I. We shall meet again. It is as sure as the break of dawn, or the spring thaw."

6:44:49 "And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps."

6:45:47 "Stay with me, my love."

6:50:36 "Do not falter, I am here!"

6:51:15 "Karlach. I am sorry. I shall not try to soothe you with gilded words, but... know that I am here for you."

[lantur]

2006: A conversation with a military recruiter prompts 18-year-old Tessa Halifax to enlist in the US Army after graduation. This pivotal decision takes her from her New Jersey suburb to the streets of Baghdad, as a military working dog handler. In Iraq, Tessa meets disillusioned soldier Ryan Chao. Their experiences as soldiers lead them to make a dramatic departure from the careers they envisioned for themselves. 2025: Tessa’s ultimate goal as Chief of Staff to Vice President Ryan Chao is to help him win the White House in 2028. However, fallout from the events of the 2024 election cause a ripple effect that permanently alters Tessa’s life.  A Box Full of Darkness is an intensely personal story of strength and resilience, of healing and rebuilding after loss, and of devotion to the causes - and people - that matter the most. 

So many of you have read my writing (Strings, Lights in the Shadow, Delicate) over the past several years, across different fandoms. Thank you for being so supportive. All of your encouragement on tumblr and Archive of our Own helped me take the step toward writing an original novel. I'm so excited to share this with you.

Paperbacks are available here and on Amazon. The ebook is also available on Amazon. Unfortunately, Kindle devices are experiencing technical difficulties at the moment, and if you plan on reading on a Kindle device you may want to wait for the next update coming soon. However, the ebook works great on iPads and other browsers. As you can see from the screenshot, the paperback is beautiful and is well worth the wait. :)

Thank you to @chewytriforce for her cover art and design, and @broomchickabroom for her interior design and typesetting!

If you have any questions about purchasing the novel or ebook, please don't hesitate to contact me. ❤️

[ourlittleuluru]

I HAVE SO MANY, BUT ALSO 0 THOUGHTS ON THE NEW MEMORY WITH XAVIER???? (Because I feel like my brain is entirely assaulted by so much... no brain cells survived)

Okay... but the vibe that I got previously where I mentioned that Xavier felt like he could finally bring his walls down... MAN JUST BROUGHT DOWN THE ENTIRE DAM I TELLS YOU!

All in all, LOVE the story line and the development that happened within! Big character development too!

Full ramblings under the cut (ヘ ° w °;)ヘ (beware... it's a hecking long post...)

Off the start and there's already reference to their past lives being in the same school 😭

Of course, he made the first move, he was the one that even wanted to elope, but MC was dense (and also too responsible) 😤

Xavier... you and your technicalities. This man, seriously... And the fact that his profile has like... 0 information... huh. What a surprise, not. The way MC retorts thoooo

HE IS A PLANET THAT'S STRAYED FROM ORBIT இ௰இ And Xavier's been on his guard this whole time...

AND HELLO? NEWLYWED BANTER ALREADY???! CUTE??? 😩

ALSO THE FACT XAVIER SPUN THE STORY THAT HE BROKE AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY...! ELOPING!!! ANOTHER CALLBACKKKKK 😭😭😭

(and as usual, there's gotta be the gossiping asian aunties xd;;; )

Okay I need to stop it with the caps.... But I really can't help feeling like yelling into the void because all my brain cells are just being thrown all around by this memory. Okay, breathe...

Classic Xavier just... easily winning over the elderlies =w=;;; and then the corny (cringe to me) petnames tho 😭 stud muffin???? cutie patootie??? I can't evennnn

Okay the CN version, they just call each other baby/宝宝... the stark difference 🤣

it's still cute how they try to act so hard X'D but Xavier's totally just living out his fantasies at this point, I'm sure. Xavier's acting was very natural in a way. How easily he just leans on MC before, and calling her using a pet name, even just holding onto her after and naturally flowing into a "Come back soon" 🥺🥺🥺

Just a few days and they're already naturally living their domestic life, as if it's always been that way o(TヘTo)

Later on, Jenna commented on how MC has gotten thinner and MC was like thinking how most of the food was cooked by Xavier ToT Man is trying his hardest!

AND OKAY HELLO???! XAVIER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT NUMBER 1????

MC totally is just letting Xavier use the kitchen???! No snappy remarks about kitchens on fire???

(and also MC just casually remembering what her at-home husband's favourite fruit is and just picking one up back for him 😭)

AND NO KITCHENS ON FIRE FOR REAL!!! I REPEAT NO FIRES IN THE KITCHEN! Xavier FINALLY can cook!?!! (but what's with the teasing Xavier ToT MARSHMALLOW SPAGHETTI?????)

His food is MC approved 😭😭😭😭 BABY BOY HAS GROWN!

And he just... casually indulged in her touch....

And why is it that after carrying out their mission, Xavier went from a simple white shirt, shows up in a whole getup? ToT but I'll take it! And MC being dense again and how Xavier just corrects her but she goes to hug him right away???? The whole 21 days to create a habit thing... And the way he asks for more?????? Man is slipping. He's about to just. Let it go.

And to think... the whole Kindled just started with MC's little push when Xavier replies vaguely as usual

Guess after 21 days of living out your dream life, nothing be holding him back at this point huh. And the way Xavier's tone just completely changed! HE BECAME SO SOFT AND LIKE NEEDY SOUNDING LIKE AHJDSHAFKLSDFL

BUT OML????! HELLO??? HOLD ON!!!

In the trailer, there were 2 kisses, right? MC just straight up snuck one! And Xavier went in for not one, BUT TWO! MORE TIMES. TWO!!

LOOK. THE FLOOD GATES HAVE OPENED. HE JUST BE LETTING ALL THE STUFF HE'S HELD BACK, OUT. Nothing is stopping him any more. And he's not about to let anything stop him after this, for sure.

Xavier finally can be himself. No facades, no alternate identities that he feels like he needs to put a distance with. Just as much as he loves every version of MC, he's dedicating every bit of him to MC 😭😭😭 I just... I can'tttttt. THIS WHOLE PART AFTER THE KINDLED BROKE ME...!

AND THEN HE SNEAKS IN ONE MORE FINAL KISS RIGHT AT THE END?!!! (≧﹏ ≦) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

Okay. I'm done. I'm just... so done. I won't recover from this. I don't think I can... 💗_(:з)∠)_

[outlanderanatomy]

2024 SiWC Panel with Diana Gabaldon

Greetings Outlander fans! My, I have missed you all… 🤗

This weekend I find myself in beautiful Surrey, British Columbia,  Canada, attending the Surrey International Writers’ Conference, more commonly known as SiWC!

I drove from Oregon to Canada lastThursday. It was a beautiful day but the  normally 5.5 hr drive turned into nearly 7 hours due to two collisions in Washington state.  Yes, it was an inconvenience for those on the freeway, but I was grateful to arrive safely and I hope those involved in the crashes are OK.

Thus far, I have attended several events featuring Diana – she is one busy lass! All were delightful and I will share them with you, but not in chronological order mostly due to the technical issues of posting via  iPad. 😉

Today’s event was titled “Compelling Expositions,” a panel featuring Diana Gabaldon, Michael Slade, Robyn Harding, and Darren Groth (not shown).  K. C. Dyer moderated (also not shown).

Diana looked stunning, layered with in a deep red shawl because the room was freezing! 🥶

Many fruitful topics were covered by the panel. Here are some highlights including Diana’s responses:

Question:  Which is your fav scene from your writings? Diana chose the scene from “Outlander” book wherein Jamie rescues Claire from Black Jack Randall’s clutches. They shelter at a tavern –  Jamie tells Claire he is not ready for bed and proceeds to whip her with his sword belt. This set up a major clash between the two characters because each POV was justified from their perspective. Claire was trying to find a way back to Frank but Jamie knew her actions put all of their lives  in danger. I must confess, this choice surprised me. I suppose because Diana has written so many splendid scenes. How would one even choose? 🤔

This is wee bit of the excerpt from the scene (pp. 249-250 “Outlander” Kindle version) that is Diana’s fav!

“Come to bed, Jamie. What are you waiting for?”

He came to stand by the bed, swinging the belt gently back and forth.

“Well, lass, I’m afraid we’ve a matter still to settle between us before we sleep tonight.” I felt a sudden stab of apprehension.

“What is it?” He didn’t answer at once. Deliberately not sitting down on the bed by me, he pulled up a stool and sat facing me instead.… 😯

Question: How do you deal with pacing? Diana responded that pacing depends on context. For example, if there is an emergency then the writer wants to keep sentences short and terse. Pacing allows the author to create tension between two elements. A question is raised and then answered to move the story forward. (Psst…. She didn’t mention that sometimes the answers to questions she raises don’t get resolved until two books and ten years later!) 😂

Question: How do you deal with slang or dialect? Diana feels dialogue is the most important way to define a character.  An author using another language (e.g. Gaelic) needs to educate themself in the language. She watched films with Scottish characters to hear their spoken English. At conferences, if she heard anyone speaking with a Scottish accent, she invited them for coffee and listened to them speak. Diana also recommended reading books written by someone who speaks the language. She read several Scottish authors to help her get a feel for syntax, cadence, etc. Frankly, her devotion to her craft is a splendid example to all aspiring authors. 🥰

Question: Do you plan out a chapter or scene ahead of time? Diana does not. We already know she doesn’t write in a straight line. She also does not tell her characters what to say or do. She waits patiently for them to speak to her.  This being my fourth SiWC, I can tell you hers is a unique approach. Most writers I encounter plan out scenes, many even work from  a classic outline. She also doesn’t know ahead of time how a book will end. I guess the one exception here is that she seems to know how the “Outlander” books will end. Sob! 😢

Question: Who is your favorite author. James Clavell, she answered without a moment’s hesitation.  Clavell authored the marvelous, “Shogun,” for those who might not know. Although it has been some time since I read it, it is well worth doing so. 👍🏻

These were highlights of the panel for me.

The full panel discussion can be accessed on the blog.

I hope you enjoyed the panel. Need I say, my fav author for “Compelling Exposition” is none other than Diana Gabaldon? 🤩 🥇 🏆

The deeply grateful,

Outlander Anatomist

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Photo and audio credits: Outlander Anatomy

[robot-reference]

hey guys can i ask for help to crowd source this? this is reference technically

i am looking for any and all minor (and minor-ish) transformer characters who are/were medics, firefighters, engineers, police officers and first responder types or could be implied to be so, any series is fine but you can specify! (they don't need to be autobots only)

i need this for reasons 👀 feel free to add your unsung blorbos to the list (bonus points for tf wiki links)

this is mostly off of the LL crew list as a starting point (i may have missed some)

medic

Hoist , Lancet (presumably), Medix

firefighter

Fervor , Kindle , Inferno , Hosehead , Hot Spot

police

Ore , Shock , Streetwise

engineer

Huffer

msc.

Grapple (engineer arguably) Rook (unspecified rescue) Heatrock (probably rescue) Skyfeather (probably rescue) Groove (probably rescue, maybe police?)

[dirtytransmasc]

u got any hc’s for miles for earth 42 and miles from 1610 interactions? they’re besties to me fr fr

(first few are sorta theories for btsv, the rest are general hc's for their dynamic. these got kinda angsty, oops)

they definitely fight a few times before realizing they can be on the same side of things, Miles 42 being more the aggressor, but Miles 1610 wants to get even each time, cause he's a teenage boy, sue him. its in their moments of weakness that they start to see that they don't have to be enemies. they're also fair fighters, to some point, and fight generally clean, which definalty plays into their bond later on. there was always some level of mutual trust and respect.

its when they reluctantly team up and they get beaten to absolute pulps, and are forced to see each other as not only equals, but kids, both forced into lives they didn't want, or at least positions, they didn't want, that they start to bond.

its the act of picking each other up and dusting each other off that the bond cements, when Miles 1610 sees the kid in Miles 42, the kid that's tired and scared and not entirely there after living life hidden away in the back of his head that makes him extend his trust and his friendship. for Miles 42, its seeing Miles 1610 be so kind and good and trusting and strong, despite being a kid and being scared and tired and hurting, that makes him want to accept Miles' offer of friendship, and in a way, safety.

once they're friends, they're the definition of terror twins, like, generally they're sweethearts when not in combat, but they are capable of so much mischief, oml. and in combat, together, they're down right terrifying.

I totally think they would see each other like twins too, so they have such a brotherly dynamic in my mind. both are technically only children, so at first they're just kinda in this blissful awe of how nice it feels to not be alone in the world, to know they always have a shoulder to lean on, someone to protect them.

definitely both physically affectionate, and both of them have that AuDHD in them, so they spend a lot of their free time justlying in a pile somewhere.

Miles 42 does Miles 1610's hair and helps him with Spanish, in return Miles 1610 helps Miles 42 reconnect with his artistic side that had been buried while he was the prowler.

Miles 1610 sneaks him into HQ all the time, to the point that Miguel just gives the kid his own watch for the sake of his sanity.

it takes a while for Miles 42 to be down with intimacy of any kind, even just stuff like small talk and brushing shoulders, cause he feels like any attempts at connection from anyone is just them looking for a weak spot to use against him. Miles 1610 definitely helped him feel safe by just blabbering on and on about just about anything, making it abundantly clear that he trusted him (42) to keep his 'secrets' safe, and therefore he could trust Miles 1610 to do the same. once he's ok with small talk, they start tackling physical touch, slowly but surely. Miles 1610 is always supportive of him, always trying to understand better so he can be helpful, trying to make his 'twin' feel safe.

Miles 1610 forces Miles 42 to join his friend group, like he is so insistent that Miles 42 just caves. he doesn't regret it.

Miles 1610 is the more emotional protector, making sure Miles 42 feels safe and secure in a give situation and helping him get away and ground when he doesn't. Miles 42 is a physical protector, and he will end anyone who harms a hair on Miles 1610's head.

very competitive, in everything, absolutely everything.

steal from each other all the time, and almost never return the items.

Miles 1610 will indulge in childish things as if they're the norm for kids his age, so that way Miles 42 doesn't feel so ashamed of reliving the parts of childhood he lost.

they're both afraid of thunder and will huddle up under the covers during a storm. (once Miles 1610 has kindled a bond between his mom and especially his dad and Miles 42, they totally climb into their parent's bed, cause they're just big little kids and they want their parents when the thunder starts shaking the house ok? leave them be)

vigilante Miles 42, who tries to be someone Miles 1610 would be proud of, even in his fucked up dimension and with his already fucked up reputation.

they kinda forget they're basically the same person, so they're all ways surprised when the other likes the same thing or has the same habit, etc.

1610; orange cat. 42; black cat. vibes; amazing

it should be so obvious, but they do the good old twin switch every once and a while, sometimes just for shits and giggles to see how long it takes others to notice.

they guilt trip people when they take too long to notice. they don't actually care, they just think its funny.

they make each other more confident. Miles 1610 is less of a people pleaser and does more for himself. Miles 42 feels secure in being selfless and nice and having his own feelings on things.

for some reason, Miles 42 is really good with babies, and Miles 1610 is subpar at best (he's better with little kids, not babies) and they always babysit mayday together.

they're with each other more often than not. especially after migeul just gives up on trying to keep him off of missions, cause it takes more time and effort to do so, especially when he ultimately fails every time.

Miles 42 blackmailed Miguel into apologizing to Miles 1610, while he was already in the process of apologizing... he just wasn't doing enough in Miles's mind, he needed a little push, a little reminder of what would happen to him if he chickened out.

thats all I've got for now, hope you enjoy my brain worms.

[techhasmjolnir]

Fill in the Blank

The Bad Batch (all members) x GN! Reader

Plot: It's not too long after you and the boys rescue Omega from Kamino, and you're trying to lie low until the heat on all of you dies down. The forest moon of Endor is your current hideaway, and you're trying to kill time one night by playing a simple game...

Author's Notes:

I apologize in advance for this, because it's exceptionally stupid, and I absolutely love it. I came up with this after having a conversation about what kinds of games the Batch might enjoy, and I casually mentioned it would be hysterical to play the classic silly party game, Mad Libs, with them. There's not much action in this story as it's heavy on dialogue, so if that's not really your thing, you might want to skip this one. If you want complete brain rot, then this is for you.

Important Notes: This can be considered a (mostly) SFW story. The NSFW content could technically constitute profanity, sexually suggestive terms, and straight up gross descriptions...you know, the way Mad Libs is supposed to be played! There's also an admixture of words from the SW universe along with common words we use on Earth. Just getting that out there before someone has to leave a comment of, “that doesn't exist in Star Wars...” Shhhh. This is my story. Be quiet.

Nobody was exactly thrilled with Tech's suggestion to seek refuge on the forest moon of Endor, but after liberating Omega from Kamino, you were left with few options for sanctuary. With credits low and rations even lower, Hunter relented, and now you've been in seclusion for nearly a galactic week while waiting to hear from a fixer you knew on Ord Mantell. Having Omega with you complicated everything, and it was a rude awakening trying to adjust to her boundless energy, enthusiasm, and curiosity. You and the guys tried to keep her occupied, but it became a struggle very quickly.

You planted the suggestion of having a bonfire one night to break the monotony of always piling back into the Marauder at nightfall, in addition to providing some type of enrichment for Omega. Omega was especially excited because she had never experienced one before, and Wrecker offered immediately to go look for kindling – with Omega in tow. You hoped this would be relaxing for everyone and at least for awhile, help take their minds off the gravity of the situation. It didn't take long for them to locate an assortment of downed branches and a few dry logs, and in minutes, Wrecker had the fire going.

“Don't get too close, 'Meg,” Wrecker cautioned. “It's real easy to burn yourself, and then you'll look like me!”

“Wrecker, don't tease her like that,” Echo chided as he slid down to the ground and leaned against a decaying tree stump. “More like, don't frighten her.”

“I'm not scared!” Omega interjected as she went to sit beside Hunter, stretching out her arms and legs, basking in the radiant heat. “I'll stay right here by Hunter, where it's safe.”

“It is safe everywhere as long as you stay close to us, Omega. For now, please try and relax,” Tech called as he emerged from theMarauder with datapad in hand, tapping on it as he sat down next to you, Crosshair on your other side.

“I see you didn't bring the spotchka with you, Tech,” you said with amusement as you nudged his shoulder. “Yes, I know all about the stash you guys have onboard. It's an unspoken rule that having a campfire means you're supposed to do at least a little imbibing. Maybe tell a few stories, dare people to do stupid things... You know, unwind and have fun.”

“Might I ask how you knew about –”

“It doesn't matter, Tech. I'll go get it. After the events of the past week, I think we could all use a drink,” Crosshair interrupted as he stood up and disappeared into the ship, and returned with not one, but several bottles cradled in his arms, and a small stack of cups balanced carefully in one hand.

Hunter glared at him disapprovingly, then looked down at Omega's small form nestled against him as if to say, “Really? In front of the kid?”

“What? One's for me and you can split the rest,” Crosshair said as he tossed a bottle to Wrecker and set the other down by you and Tech, then returned to his spot, not bothering to use a cup in favor of taking a long swig straight from the bottle.

“Well, I would say 'cheers,' but since there's not much to cheer about, how about “here's to surviving another day,” you said a little more solemnly than you intended as you raised your cup, the the rest of them following suit.

Silence reigned uncomfortably for awhile as you all started to loosen up, all the anxiety and tension leaching out with each mouthful of spotchka. You caught yourself staring across the fire at Hunter and Omega, his arm curled around her protectively. Shadows danced across her tiny face as she grew mesmerized by the way the flames licked at the firewood, and memories of you as a child sitting around fires with your friends flooded your mind. Then it dawned on you that there was a game you always used to play with them on nights like these that never failed to leave all of you exhausted from laughing.

“All right, this feels too much like a funeral, boys. This is not what having a fire is supposed to be like,” you said as you put down your cup. “I have something that should significantly lighten the mood.” You got up and everyone turned to watch you dash off to the ship, wondering what you were up to. When you returned, you held a few small books, a pen, and some water for Omega.

“Ta-da! I just remembered I had these. I keep them on hand for cheap entertainment during those long, boring hyperspace trips, when browsing the HoloNet won't suffice.”

“Hm? What do you have there?” Tech asked, adjusting his goggles as he tried to read the title of the topmost book.

“This,” you said triumphantly, “is only the greatest party game to ever exist. It's a classic on my homeworld, and I think you all might really like it. It's a word game—”

Wrecker groaned, then downed the rest of his spotchka. “A word game? That doesn't sound fun at all.”

“You didn't let me finish! This is a game for people who don't like games,” you said, purposely turning to look at Crosshair, who shrugged at you. You looked over at Wrecker and continued, “One person picks a story that has certain words omitted, and they don't tell the players what it's about. Instead, the players are asked to provide words to fill in the blank spaces in the story. When the story is finished, it's read back to the players and then they discover just how hilarious, shocking, gross, or just plain stupid their creation is. Sound like something you'd be interested in?”

“Well...when you put it like that...it doesn't sound so bad,” Wrecker replied as he poured himself another round. “Tech, you would be good at this.”

“Oh...there's just a few things you need to know before we do this,” you added. “I kind of made up my own rules with how to play, and I make it mandatory that you are to make your ideas as weird, vulgar, or...suggestive as possible. It's sort of tradition at this point.”

“Which means it's bedtime, Omega,” Hunter said. “This doesn't sound like this would be an appropriate game for you.”

“No, Hunter, please let me stay! I don't want to go to bed!” Omega protested as she stood up and brushed off her tunic, looking down at Hunter with the best pout she could muster.

“Let the kid stay, Hunter. She's been coddled enough,” Crosshair rasped after taking another long pull of spotchka. “Besides, she might come up with something better than any of us.”

“All right, fine. But if things get too out of hand, you're going to bed, Omega, and that's it,” Hunter sighed.

“That is such a dad response,” you snickered, not aware of the glare Hunter shot back at you. “All right, we're getting distracted, here. Are you guys in or out?” You started flipping through one of the books to find something that would be an easy introduction.

“I think we're in... Omega looks like she's about to launch out of excitement,” Echo chuckled.

“Good, because I've picked one out that's quite relevant. Do I need to go over the parts of speech, or is everyone set? Honestly, I think I might be more excited than Omega,” you laughed. “It's been a long time since I last played this. One thing before we begin – I don't usually ask each person individually for a word. You can all say whatever comes to mind, and I'll use the one I like best. Oh, Tech...before I forget...”

Tech turned to you with a quizzical expression on his face. “Forget what? It appears you have everything you will need, at least for the moment.”

“Remember what I said about making the stories as messed up as possible? That means I'm putting you on notice that you are going to have to offer up ideas that are completely tasteless.”

Crosshair spluttered and coughed violently, nearly choking on his spotchka. When he recovered, he started laughing so hard, you thought he was going to mess himself. “Tech speaking like a reg?! I'll believe it when I hear it! We heard him swear ONCE back when we were cadets, and we never heard him do it again.”

“I told those other cadets not to touch that droid, if you recall. It was their own fault what happened to them,” Tech replied huffily. He sighed and then looked at you. “Do I have to?” he asked, not sounding thrilled. “I do not prefer using crass language if at all possible.”

“Yes, you have to. Otherwise we are all going to goad you mercilessly all night until you do. Be a good sport, Tech. I promise it won't tarnish your reputation or insult your intelligence if you let slip a little vulgarity, okay?”

“Come on, Tech, play along and live a little,” Wrecker said as he gulped down the last of his drink, belching pleasurably and grinning at Omega, who was giggling helplessly.

“Okay, here we go. If anyone needs me to explain what a certain part of speech is, just stop me. For the first prompt, I need a plural noun.”

“Are you referring to common or proper nouns?” Tech asked. “We will require clarity before providing adequate responses.”

“Common noun, Tech. Proper nouns will be described specifically, like “a city,” or “name of person.” Stuff like that. So, guys...and Omega. What do you have? Don't be afraid to just say whatever comes to mind. That's the whole point of this game.”

It was silent for a moment until Crosshair chimed in a little too gleefully with, “street whores!”

Echo spit out his mouthful of spotchka and started coughing, while the others turned to look over at Crosshair, who had a complete shit-eating grin on his face. You, however, started laughing silently, already noting the story was destroyed with just one entry completed. Omega started giggling again and you couldn't tell if she was doing it because of Echo, or because of what Crosshair said. Your suspicions were confirmed when she leaned in and asked, “Hunter, what's a street whore?”

“I'll...tell you when you're older, kid,” he replied as he kneaded his temples, knowing by the end of the night he was going to have a massive headache, and not from the spotchka.

“Street whores, it is!” you confirmed, this time audibly laughing as you wrote it down. “For the next one, I need an adjective.” Wrecker and Omega looked at you blankly, and you added, “adjectives describe something or someone. For instance, “quiet.” As in, “Tech is being quiet.”

“Horny!” Crosshair blurted out, and this time the rest of the guys started laughing, because they finally caught on to how they were supposed to play.

“Crosshair, you're pretty good at this. Are you sure you haven't played this before?” you chuckled.

“No, but I understand the assignment better than the others, evidently. Come on, what's the next one?”

“Another plural noun. Omega, why don't you give it a shot? Don't let Crosshair have all the fun,” you encouraged.

She tapped her bottom lip and looked up at Hunter, who shook his head. You all waited patiently for her, and you saw her perk up before cheerfully offering, “pleasure droids!”

Hunter looked down wide-eyed at Omega, who was supremely proud of herself for coming up with an answer, even if she had no idea what it was she just said. He buried his face in his hands, shaking his head lightly, a muffled “what have I done” the only thing he could say.

“Pleasure...droids...” you repeated slowly, scribbling it down and inwardly laughing. “This might seem repetitive, but the next two entries are both adjectives. Are the rest of you going to play, or are Crosshair and Omega going to dominate this story?”

“Uhhhh...salacious?” Echo said with a hint of uncertainty. He looked over at Wrecker, who was deep in thought, scratching at his bald head idly.

“I have one, but...I don't know if I should say it,” Wrecker said sheepishly.

“Out with it, Wrecker. We don't have all night,” Crosshair grumbled as he peered down the neck of the bottle of spotchka, already half drained.

“Is “erotic” okay?”

You started snickering and jotted it down, trying to ignore the jeering laughter of the others over Wrecker's hesitance and inexperience. “Guys, shut the hell up, will you? At least he's trying, and for what it's worth, it works really well in the story. Now for something different, I need a regular old noun. Tech, why don't you give me something this time? You're too quiet and it's bugging me.”

“Why my silence is disconcerting to you, I do not know. I simply do not feel the need to—”

“Tech...” you warned.

He turned to look at you and it was always so evident he was plotting something because his eyes always narrowed in determination with a hint of mischievousness behind them – like right then. “While I will not indulge you with vulgarity at this moment, I will give you something that will likely surprise you, given that it is coming from me. My answer?” You watched as he cocked an eyebrow and smirked at you. “Anal probe.”

You blinked uncomprehendingly for a few moments, then came back with, “I'm sorry, but did you just say 'anal probe?'”

Everyone erupted into laughter and Tech nodded, a wry little smile on his face. “I think you will find this will be a satisfactory addition to the story, if my assumptions are correct. Please continue, for I am now most eager to hear the outcome.”

You couldn't think of a smart-ass retort as you wrote down his answer, now knowing you should never underestimate Tech's deviance ever again. Waiting to speak until everyone got themselves under control, you scanned the page and realized you're barely halfway through it and this story is fucked up. “Alright, guys, let's focus. The next one says 'person in room (last name),' but I'm the only one with a last name here, and we're not using it. So technically, I'll need the last names of two people for the next two entries.”

“This one's easy,” all eyes on Hunter as he finally spoke up. “Skywalker, and Kenobi.”

“Not bad! Not bad at all, although I wouldn't have been surprised if you had said Skywalker, and Amidala. Speaking of, didn't you guys use to have her as—”

“Uh, we don't like to bring that up. In fact, never mention this again,” Hunter cut you off, waving his hand in the universal sign of “zip it” while looking at Omega.

“Duly noted,” you replied as you penned in the next two entries. “Next up is a place, followed by another last name of a person.”

“79's!”

“Hoth!”

“The 'fresher?”

“Mos Eisley!”

“All right, everyone, enough! Omega, loved your idea about the 'fresher, but I think we're gonna go with Echo on this one, with Mos Eisley. What about the last name? You're on a roll now, so keep it going!”

A bunch of names were thrown out there, from Dooku to Chuchi, Windu to Palpatine. All of a sudden Crosshair piped up with, “Dickhead.” All chatter stopped and everyone looked over at him. “You heard me. That was what the other cadets and I always called that old sniping instructor we had. Couldn't stand that sack of sh—”

“Crosshair, enough,” Hunter said. “We'll be lucky if Omega doesn't pick up that particular habit.”

You cleared your throat loudly to get their attention, trying your hardest not to laugh. “Excellent choice, Crosshair. That fits...uh, perfectly?” You covered your face as you lost it, shaking in silent mirth, only stopping once Tech put his hand on your shoulder to see if you were all right. Wiping away tears, you gave them their next prompts. “Make these two REALLY good, okay? I need a part of the body, and a type of liquid.”

The amount of raucous laughter among the boys meant only one thing, and that it was obvious they were going to give you the most childish answers possible. When no one spoke up, you looked around and were met with sly grins. “Well? I'm waiting... I mean, if you're going the route I think you are, then I'll just write both words down right now and we'll move on,” you said, tapping your pen on the page. “All right, 'cock' it is for the body part, and cu—”

Hunter coughed loudly and you looked over to see him with his hands covering Omega's ears, although it didn't stop the girl from giggling while squirming and grabbing at Hunter's hands, trying to pry them off.

From an unlikely source came the response to your question. “Bantha piss!” Echo called out as he started laughing again, hiding his face in his hands.

“Hey, not bad, Echo! I like it! Random question – and I ask because I feel like there's probably a backstory here – but what gave you that idea?”

Crosshair sat up straight as an arrow, looking over at Echo and throwing invisible daggers at him. “Don't do it, Echo, I mean it. We agreed no one had to find out about that.”

Echo didn't have a chance to reply because Wrecker spoke up and spilled the beans. “What? You mean when we had that mission on Tatooine and you got too close to one, and then it let loose all over you? That was disgusting. You smelled for days after that!”

“Yes, thank you for reminding everyone,” Crosshair growled, returning to the bottle for a quick gulp. “Remind me to kill you later, Wrecker.”

“Children, please behave,” you teased as you turned to look at Crosshair, who was still beet red from embarrassment with a look of “if YOU fucking tell anyone else about this, I will end you” all over his face. “We're close to being done, so for the next few, I need an article of clothing, pluralized. I also need an example of a relative. As in, familial relations.” You looked over at Tech, answering the question before he could ask it.

To your surprise, Hunter provided the next piece, although he made sure he was still covering Omega's ears before he spoke. “G-strings,” he said, a crooked grin spreading over his rugged features. His hands let go of Omega and it took a moment before everyone burst out laughing again, with the poor kid looking very confused as to what was so funny.

“Okay, I'm just going to throw this out there,” you replied as you jotted down Hunter's answer. “Next chance we get, we need to find a babysitter for Omega and then get to the nearest strip joint, because you guys are dropping a LOT of hints...”

Omega tugged on Hunter's sleeve, and he dreaded what she was going to ask. “Hunter, what's a strip joint? And why couldn't I go with you?”

Hunter groaned and rolled his eyes as he reached for his cup and took a long sip. “That's another “I'll tell you when you're older” thing, Omega. “It's not something for kids.”

“Oi, what are we supposed to pick for a relative? We don't really have relatives since we're clones,” Wrecker asked, trying to get everyone on task again.

“Irrelevant, Wrecker. Just because we do not have relatives, so to speak, does not mean you cannot choose from the list of common terms for a family's hierarchy,” Tech offered. “Although...given the way this story appears to be trending, it could be quite amusing to supply a word that is not entirely accurate. Would this be acceptable?”

“Fine by me. Just give me something so we can put this baby to bed. The anticipation's starting to kill me,” you replied.

“In that case, I would like to assist. Would 'sperm donor' suffice?”

You looked over at him, your eyebrow raised in momentary confusion. “Tech, what the hell?! Did you just...?”

He chuckled and nodded only once, shooting you a knowing wink as he brought his cup to his mouth, taking a delicate sip.

“All right, I see what you did there. Quite ingenious, might I add. However, we don't need...or want any more details,” you added, waving your open hand flippantly, cutting Tech off before he had a chance to offer up any justification. “Okay, just three more, and we're finally done. By the Maker, I feel like I'm going to have crippling anxiety after all this.”

“Give it six months,” Crosshair snickered. “You haven't been with us long enough to have developed it so soon. Now, what's left? I'm low on patience...and spotchka, it appears,” he said as he swirled the near-empty bottle around.

“Uhhh, let's see. I need a piece of furniture, a verb ending in “ing,” and one last adjective.”

Thankfully, you didn't need to wait because the responses started flying.

“Couch!” “Wrecker, that's stupid. What about “inflatable bed?”

“That's not any better, Echo. Now what's stupid?!”

“TOILET!” Omega shouted as she tried to make herself heard in the growing din.

“A toilet's not a piece of furniture, kid. Where did you come up with that?” Hunter laughed incredulously.

“I have got it!” Tech exclaimed, everyone immediately shutting up, all eyes trained on him as he looked around, that devious smile of his returning. He turned to you and you knew this was going to be good. By good, you knew it would be hysterical, considering the source. “Queening chair,” he proclaimed with a smirk.

Crosshair's jaw dropped so low it was almost on the ground. This time, you had no idea what Tech was talking about, and at the moment, you really didn't want an explanation, either. “A what, Tech? Judging by that look you're giving me, it's something indecent, isn't it?”

“Extremely. You should go ask the queen of Naboo about hers,” Crosshair muttered once he collected himself.

“That rumor is entirely unfounded, Crosshair,” Tech shot back, rolling his eyes. “Unless there's something you're not telling us?”

“Not now, you two. I think we've wasted more time talking and arguing than actually trying to play this game,” Hunter shot back. He looked down at Omega, searching for any sign she was tired and needed to go to bed. Much to his chagrin, she was more wide awake than ever. “You wanna do the next one, kid? You know what a verb is, right? It's an action word, like 'run' or 'jump.' But for this one, make sure you add 'ing' at the end,” he instructed, making sure to pronounce the syllable for her instead of spelling it out.

She nodded and carefully processed that information, everyone opting to stay quiet to let her think. What came out of her next would go on to become a treasured recording in Tech's archives and the subject of nostalgic stories for years to come.

“Fucking!” she declared happily, once more completely oblivious as to what she'd just said.

For a moment you thought the guys were going to pass out, especially Hunter, whose expression was somewhere between shock and severe indigestion. “Where...where did...who taught you that?!” he said hoarsely, grabbing his cup and swallowing the last of its contents before reaching for the bottle to slop more into it.

“Crosshair did! He says it all the time,” Omega replied. “Hunter? Are you okay? You look kind of...sick.”

Hunter sighed and rubbed his eyes, his look of shock replaced with quiet resignation, followed by a menacing glare in Crosshair's direction. “Why am I not surprised? Crosshair, you know kids are like sponges! What the f—”

That's all it took to break the sniper as he dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, all of you following suit thereafter. This time, no one was able to recompose themselves. Wrecker clapped Hunter forcefully on the back, almost propelling him into the fire as tears of merriment streamed down his face. Echo was laid out flat on his back, hands over his face as he shook silently. You looked through blurry eyes over at Crosshair, who had sunk down to the ground clutching his ribs as he gasped for breath, the sight of which made you laugh even harder. Tech was doubled over, one hand on your shoulder to steady himself as another paroxysm of laughter overtook him. Omega's high-pitched shrieks of glee were by far the best thing you heard tonight, her joy and spirit exceptionally infectious.

Minutes passed before you all eventually calmed down and you were about to put pen to paper when you realized what the context of the story would be if you put in Omega's idea as is...and it was beyond inappropriate in a really bad way. Time for an immediate course correction.

“Oh, uhh...oh boy,” you said hesitantly. “Um...I normally don't do this, but I have to add another word to this so it doesn't turn into something completely morally reprehensible.”

Tech stopped cleaning his goggles, which he had taken off to wipe at his eyes. “I do not understand. What could be so—”

“Trust me, you don't want to know. You'll figure it out when I read this back.” You jotted something down and then reached down for the bottle of spotchka to drink deeply, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Captain Adverb to the rescue, thank the Maker. This is it, guys...one last word. All I need is an adjective. You got this?”

“Bring it on!” Wrecker said boisterously, waving the spotchka bottle around, nearly clipping Hunter in the back of the head with it.

Since Omega opened the door for it, no one bothered watching their language now as they threw out all sorts of outlandish ideas, none of them quite what you felt were funny enough to close out the story. Tech had gone quiet again, and you knew he had something up his sleeve. You looked over at him and that evil little grin was back.

“You advised me earlier that I needed to provide some kind of suggestive or vulgar response, correct?”

“Out with it, Tech. I know you've got something good cooking upstairs.”

“I thought that was obvious. I deduced that answers with...creative...terms involving body parts seem to be the most entertaining for all of you. Therefore, I would like to offer my response.”

“Tech, just say it! Why do you have to be so difficult?!” Crosshair griped as he quaffed the last of his spotchka.

Tech rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, solidly ignoring Crosshair's jab. “For your consideration, I would like to give you an adjective that is most...” He paused, trying to be dramatic in his own way as he looked around, seeing everyone waiting on him. “...Rectally stimulating.”

You looked down at the story for a moment, and realizing what that did to the context of it made you drop your pen on the ground. Immediately, both hands came to your face as you broke into helpless, muffled laughter.

“Tech, you'd better not have ruined the story,” Wrecker said accusingly.

You pulled your hands away from your face and sniffled as you rubbed your eyes and shook your head. “He didn't ruin anything, Wrecker. In fact, he provided the absolute perfect finish. Now, hold onto something, because— Wrecker, you can let go of Hunter...that was a figure of speech. Anyway, may I present to you a most entertaining narrative, called 'CAMPFIRE STORIES.'”

“Are you serious? That's a little on the nose, don't you think?” Crosshair groaned.

“Of course I chose this one on purpose! Now, check this out.” You made a production out of loudly clearing your throat, taking a deep breath and exhaling forcefully.

“It is always fun to chop up some street whores and use them to build a horny campfire. Then you get all of the pleasure droids to sit around the fire and tell scary stories. You can tell about Ichabod Crane, the salacious schoolteacher of Sleepy Hollow and his erotic adventures with the headless anal probe. Or you can tell “The Fall of the House of Skywalker,” which was written by Edgar Allen Kenobi. Or you can tell about vampires from Mos Eisley, like the terrible Count Dickhead, who bit people on the cock and drank their bantha piss. By this time, many of the young campers will start shaking in their G-strings and begin yelling for their sperm donor and go hide under the queening chair. Believe me, when it comes to fucking up a bunch of kids, there's nothing like a real rectally stimulating ghost story.”

*****

As you expected, the aftermath of reading that story was nothing short of utter chaos. Crosshair ended up laughing so hard, he disappeared somewhere into the darkness to vomit as quietly as he could before stumbling back to the ship. The others excused themselves quickly, still laughing as they almost tripped over each other in their haste as they made a mad dash back to the Marauder, leaving you and Omega behind wondering what just happened.

After everyone cleared out, you started hearing noises back in the forest that almost sounded like chittering laughter. Omega heard it too, and came to sit by you, pressing herself into your side as you wrapped your arm around her. A chill ran down your spine when you were sure you heard something rustling back in the undergrowth, and you didn't even have so much as your vibroblade with you for protection.

“Guys...please hurry! I think there's something out here!” you purposely yelled, hoping if there was some kind of animal lurking around, you would scare it away.

“I don't like this,” Omega whispered, nudging herself up so close to you, it felt like she was trying to crawl under your skin. “When are my brothers coming back?”

You did your best to try and keep her calm, squeezing her tightly. “I don't know, sweetheart, but stay calm. It'll be okay. Hunter should be back any moment now.”

As if on cue, the guys came filing back in with Hunter in the lead, his blaster drawn. “I heard you yelling. Did you see anything? Are you all right?”

“We're fine, but we definitely heard something that sounded like laughing, and like something walking around dangerously close to the camp site. Scared the shit of out of Omega and me. What took you guys so long?”

Then you noticed that Hunter wasn't wearing his blacks – he was wearing his sleep clothing, and as Wrecker and the others stepped closer to the fire, you could see the same thing, in varying configurations. No one was wearing what they previously had on, and then it dawned on you what happened. This would be a memory forever burned into your mind: the night when a ridiculous story made five grown men soil themselves from laughing.

You decided to spare them the embarrassment of asking why they changed clothes, and as Tech retook his spot next to you, he leaned close and whispered, “thank you for not asking the obvious...that would be a source of embarrassment that we would not want to try to explain to Omega.”

“I'll take this to the grave with me, Tech. Not a word.” You picked up one of the books and held it aloft, shaking it lightly. “Now...do I dare ask if you guys want to do another one? Someone else can write this time, because I want to play and show you how an old pro does this.”

Omega finally loosened her death grip on you and got up, going to Wrecker who gently picked her up, letting her settle in his arms as Tech reached over and took one of the books and your pen. “I would like to pick one, if it is quite all right.” He flipped through the pages and stopped as he found a blank story. “Yes...this will do nicely. Everyone, your first entry must be a plural noun.”

You stretched out your arms and cracked your knuckles, chuckling softly. “Two words, boys. Edible thongs.”

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hii! First off I absolutely adore your writing and I'm super excited for your upcoming fics, but I was wondering what are your favorite go-to fics (by other authors) that you want to read again and again?

Hello, love!

I did this once, but I can’t seem to find the post (go figure) so I’m happy to do it again. ❤️ I actually have a folder on my Kindle titled Comfort Fics and these are what’s in there. (I also have a bunch of fics from the same authors, but I thought it best to rec one per author. Check out their other stuff if you haven’t already.)

Most Re-Read Fic

🏈 Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante

This fic has, without a doubt, my most favorite version of Louis ever written. But more than that, I think that this is just a very nostalgic fic for me, because it was released about six months into me falling into the fandom, and so it kind of reminds me of that time where I was discovering fics and fandom and Larry for the first time. I feel like whenever I go back to it, it feels like that slice of time all over again. Epitome of a comfort fic.

Snack Fic Re-Read

🌬️Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou

This is just the most perfect single-sitting fic ever. It has everything you need to feel like you’ve read something full and all consuming. I’m a really big fan of the romantic build up, and I love that this has that, even in what is technically an established relationship trope. Love, love, love.

Fave Bedtime Re-Read

🕊️ Counting the Steps Between Us by zarah5

I keep crawling back to this fic like a long lost lover. It’s just written in such a way that hits the spot every time, with the perfect amount of tension and storytelling for you to feel like you’ve earned it by the time they get together.

Best Smut Re-Read

🫦 Hike Up Your Skirt (and Show Your World to Me) by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies

When this was being written, I told @twopoppies that it was going to overthrow Are You Gonna Be My Girl? by LoadedGunn as my holy grail smut fic and I wasn’t wrong. I mean… this fic’s reputation precedes it. It just gets the job done in the most delicious, dark, dirty way. I get that the themes might not be for everyone, but it’s definitely for me. If you’re specifically looking for something that can only be described as delectable debauchery, you’ve found it. (Read the tags!)

Specific Mood Re-Read

🪐 Saved Tonight by Anonymous*

Harry's the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis' biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

This fic is just really, really special to me. It’s soft in the most weird and wonderful way, and I’ve not found another fic that makes me feel the way this does. I think the best way to describe this is that it’s a fic that envelopes you in such a specific setting that you find yourself going back to it to live in that place for a little while.

*The author has since taken it down, and I don’t know by what username they prefer to go by, so I just listed it as Anonymous.

A/B/O Re-Read

🐺 Where You Lay by HamPalpert

When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

A/B/O is my most favorite trope ever, but because there are a lot of different permutations of the “rules”, it’s often hard for me to find an A/B/O fic that includes everything I really really really love about the trope. This is that fic for me.

Best Soft Re-Read

🎵 Make Your Words A Weapon by HelloAmHere / @helloamhere

The way Harry is written in this fic is everything to me. This fic is soft in the most lovely way, and there’s something so healing in the way it discusses trauma without ever sacrificing the romance in the fic. This has a piece of dialogue that I think about nearly monthly, but I won’t share it cause I want you to experience it for yourself first.

Holy Grail Re-Read

⏳my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach

Let me start off by saying this fic is an investment, but Jesus is it worth it. This is just the most unique blend of canon and Larry lore ever, and it just does it so, so perfectly. If you’re looking for a fic that will make you see Larry’s love story as the most perfect insider version of it ever, this is the fic. It’s so good that I never want to read/watch the original Time Traveler’s Wife. As far as I’m concerned, this is the original. (Don't forget to read the companion piece feel myself fall, make a joke of it all.)

Honorable Mentions

(I haven’t re-read these yet only because I feel like I’ve just finished them and I’m giving myself some time to miss them so much that it feels like the first time all over again.)

🗽 Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo

An exes-to-lovers for the ages. This fic is painfully beautiful, and there’s something about these characters that have stood (and will continue to stand) the rest of time. I think this is a gorgeously mature fic that deals with the complexities of love and romance in a way that’s rare. This is one of the most realistic depictions of Harry and Louis that feels true to who they are in every era.

🦋 of the divine by @thedevilinmybrain

Harry in this is literally ethereal, but also, the way the romance is layered over religious themes is just done in such a fulfilling and delicious way. I love fics that manage to marry such specific knowledge with a story that’s still romantic and wildly sexy. This is a journey, and just thinking about it makes me want to pick it up immediately.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Camila and Luz catch Philip tinkering with their thing several times, to the point Camila had to sit him aside to talk about it. Philip says that as much as he loves taking care of the house, Luz and her, but when there's nothing else to do. He gets bored, and well, he's an inventor and scientist by heart.

Feeling guilty, he tells Camila that he loves his new life, but every time he sees Luz on her laptop or phone. He can practically feel his fingers ich to take it apart and improve it.

This, in turn, makes Camila feel guilty, too, as she didn't see Philip's struggles. So she helps him make a small side business im her g.arage buying, selling, and repairing old junk.

AAAAA, YESSSS!!!

(Tagging @talisman975 and @pokeycub).

I LOVE THE IDEA OF BEARDO PHILIP BEING INTO TECH AND TECHNICAL STUFF / INVENTIONS!

He also repairs computers, phones (I saw a headcanon about Belos being able to fix an iPhone, lol), printers, etc., and uses his earnings to purchase groceries and cleaning supplies for the house, instead of being dependent on Camila's credit card, as well as pays for things that the girls need.

They, in return, save up and get him a Bindle (The Owl House universe's version of a Kindle).

He LOVES IT so much.

[sgiandubh]

Our Lady of the Earrings

Almost 3 AM and as always before any flight/train (but mercifully not when driving myself) trip I am struck by a severe case of Reisefieber, which translates to almost complete insomnia, in this noble house.

Thanks to one of @bat-cat-reader's Anons, I immediately went to watch C & Alfred Enoch's seven minute segment on The Booker Prize 2023 Livestream you can watch, too, on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/live/OgIGnfxISk0?si=nfUz7KoCFgEzQmQB

Some quick observations:

Not one, but two new ear piercings I took the gracious pain of documenting (sorry for the thumbnail size, it's the best I could do with the primitive technical means readily available) :

What would that be? Punk C? How could that even be? A speculative coin dropped: last time, it was cutting her hair, but now I see a body modification impulse. I am still pondering this one and I have to say I am torn between a simple fashionista reflex and something deeper than that (new beginnings? healing? letting go?). Either way, I am not in a hurry, because I know dots will eventually connect.

Thoughts?

Also, the rings. I have never been paying much attention to that particular merry-go-round, but anyways, for the fandom pundits, there goes:

Because I am not an Our Lady of the Rings kremlinologist, I shall leave it here as is. By all means, do comment, if you feel inspired.

Onwards to content. You know, by now, that I am a book freak (after all, my fandom journey started with a bookshelf!), so I listened very carefully. Her answer to the comment prompt on Paul Lynch's Prophet Song was, I am sorry to say, so restrained it sounded almost cookie-cut. She mentioned the tension of the quoted and performed (almost to perfection, I have to say) passage of the book, but little else and it left me still hungry for more. I mean, when you love a book, you have this urge to talk about it at length. She was almost subdued, even if I am absolutely sure she read it and liked it.

By contrast, Alfred Enoch (🎵it's a small world, after all 🎶) was totally chill. I shamelessly skipped, yet couldn't help but notice the contrast.

Second question was very interesting: 'what books made you fall in love with reading?' I always find this very telling about people, because anything related to books is very personal. We are not only the sum of our choices, but also the sum of all the books we read. Something C apparently knows very well, too, because she elegantly sashayed and said absolutely nothing about her first love book. She simply mentioned her mother taking her to the library, from a very early age and how all these books were windows which opened on The World and finally how seminal this experience is for someone growing up in a small village. But no particular book made it to her lips and again, I found it very curious. I am nobody and I can still quote not one, but two books that changed my whole world (and then I never looked back): Alice in Wonderland and The Wind in the Willows. It's not that she couldn't, it's that she wouldn't. So, for Christ's sake, Mrs. B, stop punishing your fandom like that! There's nothing wrong about sharing your joy of books, it really isn't!

Third and last question: 'are you a Kindle reader? do you like a physical book? audio books? what's your favorite medium for reading?' I could have bet handsome money she was not a Kindle reader, for obvious reasons (cannot remember/retain information), but I found endearing the almost sneaky confession she needed her couch and snacks for a good reading session (same, same and since forever: I grinned). She buys a lot of books, 'and then they sit and look at me and it takes a certain time to get in'. Same as Enoch, who wondered what the Japanese word for 'buying books for the simple pleasure of seeing them pile up' was (it is, correct me if I am wrong, tsundoku).

One of the other people talking about reading and books was Dua 'Behave' Lipa. I am legit howling like the cretin I am, but the project she supports is about bringing Booker Prize books to women in prison. And this, my friends, is absolutely extraordinary.

Also, no red carpet pictures on Getty. The only one who made it was Alfred Enoch:

And somebody else seems very interested by Getty, lately (as of yesterday, to be more exact):

But surely, that is only a coincidence.

PS: it has been asked in the comments thread chez Bat. C's pinky ring is Cartier's Trinity. My favorite of them all, spare my big butterfly 1925 chevalière (which is a Chaumet, by the way).

[Edit]: I am told she had the three ear piercings for years. My bad. I can't know just about everything. Thank you @crispyflapdeputyflower for the info. The rest is fresh, though!

[ruthlesslistener]

☠ , ☮ and maybe ൠ with Hollow?

HOLLOW MY BELOVED

☠ Angry/Violent headcanon

-Hollow is naturally extremely slow to anger and is very good at controlling said anger when it starts to kindle, but once they've properly gotten angry, it's all over. Expect a cold, calculative fury that is deliberatly honed to an edge by all their built-up grieviances, as well as a grudge that'll never quite go away. Their siblings get a pass to an extent in that they won't hate them forever if they be annoying about something, but Hollow will also never let them live it down. For actual hatred, though, just take a look at what they did to the Radiance in Dream No More, where they tore open her face and staring deep into her eyes as they held her in place to be ripped apart by their other sibling. That's what Hollow's anger looks like. They've got a long fuse, but the explosives attatched to the end of that fuse might as well be a nuclear warhead

As for the violence aspect of it- they've been trained to be a godkiller, and even if they failed bc the actual plan of attack was rather passive, that doesn't mean that they aren't any less dangerous. They won't ever feel the desire to turn that violence upon the civilians of Hallownest (unless they turn to the Radiance or otherwise be a problem), because they believe it to be their duty to protect anyone living within the caverns, but outsiders don't get that luxury and would be dead in a fight against them before they even had a chance to draw a weapon. Hollow's also got a deeply-buried hunting instinct as well, so there's a double layer of them viewing enemies as both adversaries and prey that makes them extra fatal in a fight

☮ friendship headcanon

-Hollow doesn't really make friends as much as people sort of be nice to them, and they gain increased loyalty to them in return, but I like to headcanon that the closest they ever came to having a friend was with Quirrel, back when he was young and Hollow was still an adolescent. Monomon and the Pale King were both friends (though PK himself didn't think of it as such), so as Monomon's apprentice/adopted son, Quirrel got brought along quite often. Eventually when he was around 15 and learning how to mentor others, he was given permission to practice his lessons on the Pure Vessel as a dummy student, and eventually began to talk to them just as a person and a confident when he was left alone while Monomon and PK did their research. He had no idea that Hollow grew to be quite attached to him in the process, and neither did Hollow- they just knew that they felt calmer and at ease when he was around, and that realization both baffled and frightened them

In post-canon aus, I like to imagine that they reconvene with each other while Hollow's still recovering, and form a closer bond as a god of the lost and their favored disciple. That sounds really fancy, but it's basically just a souped-up qpp that accounts for the fact that Quirrel and Hollow are alien to each other. I also like to imagine them as fwbs when Hollow begins to have heats again post-recovery because Hollow is aroace and trusts nobody but Quirrel, while Quirrel himself is easygoing and curious enough about his friend's strange nature to offer a helping hand

ൠ random headcanon

-This is entirely inspired by Broken Open, but I feel like Hollow would be a really good midwife and/or caretaker for those that are fragile and close to death. The Void is aligned close enough with endings for them to technically qualify as a death god, and they've had enough brushes with it for them to be able to identify it when it's close. More than that, however, I feel like as the God of Nothingness they have a naturally numbing/calming aura around them that stills the world into silence, which is very useful for soothing people who are frightened or in pain. I also feel like their protective nature would mean that they'd naturally fall into the roll of a caretaker, and that a profession opposite from what they were reared for would suit them well, even if they would never be able to fully shake their knighthood. They're a protector first and foremost- they don't know how to be (or want to be) anything else

[poomphuripan]

im wondering how you feel about these changes? because this is the first episode that ming is a little worse than ymx 😅😅 i never understood why cai wei/lxr didn’t just go to joe’s house so i get why they had ming , um,,,,,, move him…. but blunt force trauma and chains is smth else. he won’t hit joe in the face like ymx but he will hit him with a bat 😭😭 now im wondering about a certain ch73 action involving a phone …

ah and they’re saving ming finding out about joe for later which hurts. i really wanted to see him cry 😭😭😭😭

hi nonnie (o゜▽゜)o☆

oooooh this episode for me? (ToT)/~~~ idk personally for me, i always found the bitch slap very insulting to me as i was reading the novel (wanted to transmigrated into the novel and slap ymx right back). and supposedly the baseball bat is supposed to make me enraged as well because logistically it's way more painful for joe to get knocked out that way but i think the way the series is edited made it seem like the knockout wasn't that severe so i don't really feel angry like im supposed to/like i did reading the novel.

I LOVE the changes so far. i cant even say im a hardcore 188 novel fans bc reading the 188 novels... really enrage me... i don't feel happy reading but they help me get over my reading slump very very easily because i'm just so invested and mad (the way i wanted to throw my kindle at the wall after finishing additional inheritance by sqc).

so technically i'm a person with a weak heart who don't love my toxic red flag mls BUT i do think the series has adapted to make ming very digestable and pathetic and still scummy but not to the point where i want to hate him, i just find him stupid and dumb but i still wanna root for HIS happiness once he gets... less dumb. ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

but considering how the series already removed the slaps that mingjoe were supposed to have when they had their second? third? fight about sol, i think/believe/theorize the series won't go through with that bit in chapter 73. im actually even doubting if the reveal is gonna even happen that way because i could see them diverging more and more as we go on (i guess we'll have to stay tune to find out). 😂

i don't think they're gonna waste any time with the crying and i'm sure we'll get it pretty soon around ep 7 onwards if not even sooner. looking forward greatly to a crying and begging ming delivering his most iconic about him being only 21 back then.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #4

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

Ambrose gathered up the breakfast dishes. There was still some left from last night, but nothing unmanageable. Technically the inn was always open, but he didn’t open the kitchen until the late afternoon. He was nearly to the sink when Elliot suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision. Ambrose very carefully did not jump. Elliot trailed a step behind and to his right like a shadow. 

Ambrose decided not to comment. He filled the left side of the sink with hot soapy water and the right with unheated. Elliot watched him turn the taps with rapt attention. He began to scrub the dishes. Without a word, Elliot began to dry the plates and cups after the rinse.

Ambrose gnawed on the inside of his cheek. If Elliot wanted to help, he wouldn't begrudge him that. But was it a desire to be useful, or a fear of what would happen if he weren’t? Elliot just… seemed terrified of Ambrose. He was so pale and jittery.

“You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to.” He blurted, halfway through the chore. Elliot jumped at the sudden sound. But he didn’t look up from the mug he was drying. 

“I, um. Would like to. Sir,” Elliot stumbled.

“You don't have to call me Sir,” Ambrose reminded him. “It’s alright, I promise.”

Elliot paused. Ambrose could practically see the gears turning. Elliot looked at him from the corner of his eye. He looked like a rabbit trying to gauge if he should run or not.

“I can’t stop. It just happens and I... I have to.”

“Okay. I won’t push. If you feel the need, that’s alright with me.”

Elliot looked back at the sink, tense. Resignation came off him in waves. Gods, he looked so tired. As if he were a world-worn elder instead of the young 20-something that Ambrose estimated him to be. If Ambrose’s gut was correct (and in his experience it usually was), somebody made Elliot this way. On purpose. 

Elliot nodded in relief. He reached for another dish to wipe.

The weather was still hot from summer, but the nights were gradually cooling off. There would be a nip in the air soon enough. Fall meant that every spare moment would be dedicated to chopping wood to prepare for winter. Ambrose already had a sizable pile, made up of leftover wood and summer axework. But now every moment counted. Ambrose hated cold weather. The lack of overnight guests didn’t cut down on Ambrose’s wood usage. He liked having a toasty bedroom too much for that.

Elliot wasn’t strong enough to swing an ax, but he could carry (very small) loads of logs and kindling to the shed. The indoor andirons had already been filled to capacity. It was… nice to work with Elliot. Although, he did have to keep Elliot from pushing too hard. Elliot looked baffled at the notion, but obeyed. It did make Ambrose a little nauseous to see his instant submission, but surely they could work on Elliot’s habits. 

Soon enough the growing heat of the day made them stop. Ambrose was rather nervous to keep going in this weather. Elliot’s cloak was thin and ragged, but his refusal to take it off would give him sunsickness. Another issue to tackle later.

“Thank you for helping me with the chores.” Ambrose poured them both some water.

Elliot peered up at him, his blue eyes wide and confused. 

“You did a great job,” Ambrose emphasized. “It was a big help.”

Elliot ducked his head and took a sip of water. “Thank you, Sir,” he said, soft as feathers.

The barest hint of a smile appeared on Elliot’s lips.

Ah. Shit. thought Ambrose, I want to keep him.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1

[nonmurdery]

A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP

reader x yoosung | part one

summary: reader escapes rika’s apartment before the bomb goes off in yoosung’s bad ending 1. this uses his dialogue from the game.

author’s note: why am i obsessed with bad endings? i’ll never know! the mc’s personality is derived from how they were in that route. had this in my drafts for a minute, i don't know who'll be her end game, just take this as some angst!!

ps. chatroom formatting probably looks cuter on mobile devices

trigger warnings: major character death

word count: 1,444

⎯⎯⎯���⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You technically met Yoosung Kim last week.

The same could be said for the entire RFA. Jumin Han, V, 707, Jaehee Kang, and Zen. You've learned that the RFA is short for Rika’s Fundraising Association. You started texting them after receiving mysterious messages from an Unknown contact to go to the apartment you'd start living in. Yet you haven't met any of them in person.

Being separated by a phone screen didn't stop you from pursuing Yoosung. He's a cute SKY University student around your age. His inexperience kindled the spark between you two. You couldn't have been expected to pass up the opportunity! Not when he was clearly desperate for a partner. As were you. Your self esteem was in the gutters and the loneliness within you had become so voluminous as of late. The RFA has helped out with that.

Chatting with the RFA throughout your day wasn't difficult. Although planning their next party had its challenges. They helped you with whatever they could. Mostly with recommending guests while you picked the theme and most everything else. The best part? You were getting paid for your services.

In short: plenty of unexpected things happened to you this week. Most of them being new beginnings for yourself and the RFA. Yoosung showing up to the apartment by himself proved itself to be the most unexpected.

Intruder found. Special security system attack mode initiated.

“Did you hear that?” Your eyes wandered the room.

The bomb. You remembered it, well, you didn't forget about it either. It terrified you and made it difficult for you to get a full night's worth of sleep. No RFA member was supposed to enter this apartment—707 was still working to deactivate it. Your throat suddenly felt tight. Instead of feeling excitement upon meeting Yoosung, terror swamped your senses instead. Every fiber in your body yelled that you run. There's still time to get out of here.

Yoosung paid no attention to your words nor the alarm. “Reader … But you’re not blond like Rika … ?”

Sensing location of intruder … adjusting target …

“You cannot be serious! I was kidding about that.” You yelled, your eyes saucer-wide.

Is this his truly greatest concern? Your hair wasn't made up of the same lion's mane of loose curls as Rika’s was. Regardless, the ticking bomb that's about to go off was of more importance, to you, it seemed.

He stared at you with his large violet eyes, a cloud of confusion passing over his face. He looked exactly like the photographs he’s shared in the messenger. Short blond hair that pointed in every direction, a lithe build, and baby-faced. Your heart thrashed against your ribcage, thumping at a terrible pace. If you didn't start moving, you'd faint. Or worse, you'd die.

“And you don’t have her eye color … Your hands and face look different too … Is it really you, Reader?”

You answered with a shaky nod. “Yes! It’s me! I’m not some doppelgänger or any other look-alike. None of that matters, we need to get out of here, Yoosung.”

This changed from what you said in the messenger earlier. You spoke about how you'd need to become like Rika in order to be someone special to him. It shocked you to know he processed all of those texts you sent. For some reason, that made you like him even more than you did before.

Orders to destroy all information for the sake of protection. Activating system destruction.

“Oh … I’m sorry. I guess I just thought that you’d look exactly like Rika. But you don’t.”

You were beside yourself with frustration. “I still own you. That means we'll do what I say, let's go.” You slipped your arm through his elbow and yanked him toward the door.

It was mostly your fault for why he’d come to such assumptions. You told him that you'd be his Rika and replace her. Still, they made you a little queasy. Physically being here with him felt different than typing letters on a screen. You felt a connection to him.

“We’re not going anywhere! I ran over here because no one in the RFA helped Rika when she took her life away.” He wrenched himself out of your tight hold.

15 seconds left … 14 seconds …

Stand here and listen to his spiel, or run now and have a chance at living? You told him that you'd take care of him. That he'd be your pet and that's what you wanted. In the face of life and death, you knew what to do. You weren’t going to die for someone who looked at you with disdain for not matching their cousin in appearance. Someone who barely knew or liked you. Two days ago, you would have done anything to be accepted by him and be in charge of his life. The truth is, you barely knew Yoosung beyond the color green, LOLOL, and Rika.

Dying wasn't worth it. Not here, your life has just started.

“Yoosung, come with me. Running here won't matter if you don't run now! We’ll talk about everything after.” He looked unphased by your words, as if they held no weight to him.

Throwing one final glance at Yoosung, you darted out of Rika’s apartment as quick as a shooting star. You could only hope that he's shortly behind. Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears while the sounds of your footsteps pounded with them. Or they might've been his footsteps, listening to what you had to say after all.

Taking the elevator would've been a foolish decision. You ran down the hallways, knowing that 707 watched them through the CCTV. That explained the notification that made your phone buzz in the back pocket of your pants. It had to wait. You made it to a large stairwell that descended to the lower floors. Did V really have to purchase an apartment on the 14th?

Sucking in a breath, you headed down the staircase. You ran down the stairs faster than you knew that you could. The seconds counted down in your mind until a loud bang issued from behind you, startling you enough to fall. You hit the ground hard. Even with your eyes squeezed closed, you saw the light of fire beyond your eyelids.

None of this would've happened if he listened to you. You held your consciousness and managed to get to the 1st floor. When you got down there, firemen were making their way up, up, up. Sirens and screams glided to your ears as you fled the building.

A cold breeze lanced into you. From your peripheral vision, you saw ambulances, more fire trucks, and police cars coming down the streets. Nighttime stretched over the sky, littering it with glittering stars and fluffy see-through clouds. When you lifted your eyes up to Rika's apartment, there were fat tendrils of smoke rising into the air from the building's roof, like a soul ascending from their body.

“Yoosung! Yoosung, you idiot!” Your scream got gobbled up by the street’s cacophony. Tears pricked your eyes and you let them slide down your face. His death is on your shoulders. That's if he died. But you couldn't see a way that he could've survived.

You held yourself, squeezing your upper arms. Interviewers raced to the scene with their cameras and microphones. Your neighbors sprinted outside with some of their belongings, their mouths gaping. That's when it hit you that you only brought one thing.

“Do you know what's going on, Reader?” A woman with watery eyes asked. You bumped into her once in the lobby and talked about the weather.

You watched the flames. “I …” You wet your dry lips. “I need to go.”

Walking to the nearest alleyway, you whipped out your phone. The app was bursting with messages, most of the RFA members are active.

READER has entered the chatroom.

Jumin Han

Did everyone see the news? I'm watching it live now.

Jaehee Kang

? Mr.Han

ZEN

What news?

Jumin Han

There was an explosion at [ADDRESS] on the fourteenth floor.

Jaehee Kang

Goodness…

Jumin Han

The occupants are currently evacuating the building.

READER

HELP! I think Yoosung got cahgt in the fire!

707 has entered the chatroom.

ZEN

Yoosung?! Oh no...

Zen

Reader are you alright?!!! Tell me you're alright.

707

…

707

..

707

.

707

On my way.

READER

On your way here?

707 has left the chatroom.

ZEN

stay where you are, Reader!

ZEN

I'm sure that he has a plan…

Jaehee Kang

I agree with Zen.

Jaehee Kang

What happened to Yoosung, Reader?

Jumin Han

I can only hope for the best.

READER has left the chatroom.