#Mud Zombies

[jasonsthunderthighs]

“We had our words, a common spat. So I kissed him upside the cranium with that aluminum baseball bat!”

-Jason Todd tellin Bruce how he killed The Joker.

[scattered-winter]

me, starting a piece of zombie media: oh ho ho,,,can't wait to see some gruesome zombies and horrifying chase scenes :]

me when the zombie media has zombies in it: oh god oh fuck abort abort abort

[noemitenshi]

Right, anyone up for some backstory on abusive!Serena?

Here's Troy (who, as we all know, survived being stabbed - in this version he got saved by a group of people who are actually concerned with helping people not just paying lip-service to the idea - yes it's a dig at the show amongst them Lee and Ri, and (shock twist!)he falls in love with them (also for those interested how that happened: troy lost his memories as a trauma response after getting stabbed and having to renounce his daughter to keep her save. he stumbled upon lee and ri's group (in keeping with canon since apparently they all just s tumble into one another) and though troy has no memories he feels safe around lee and that's how it starts. currently troy has his memories and his daughter back and he's)) telling his lovers about his past.

*

Troy's all cuddled up with his loved ones and he knows he should talk about his relationship with Serena to them. He feels he owes them that - or maybe he needs it, too. Needs to put these things into words. Even though his throat closes up when he thinks about it, his jaw clenches. But he never surrenders.

"i, i had a wife…" he starts, in this kinda sing-song tone that means he's uncomfortable speaking about it. they nod because they kinda assumed haha that him and tracy's mom had a relationship "and i… i loved her" and he's nodding his head, his mouth downturned. and he repeats it a bit like… almost an invocation "i loved her." his voice is forlorn now and far-away sounding. "a-and…" he grimaces a bit, the next part difficult for him, he really doesn't want to say it. but he also does. "it-" shakes his head a little "it wasn't good between us. n-ot, not for a long time."

and of course they grow concerned for him, touch turning softer, maybe a whispered "oh sweetie" but quiet quiet because they know he needs to get this out. they can react after. they still looked at him softly inquisitive, hoping and at the same time dreading he'd say more about it. "she-uh- serena, she…" and he licks his lips, trying to gather the bravery to say it. he never said any of those things before. "she wasn't… patient. easy to - anger. and when she was, angry, she uh. she said things. and sometimes, sometimes she did things. things that-" he broke off and shook his head "but she loved me. she loved me and i- i understood" (and i think here ri is probably gonna reflexively close her hold on him, tightly, just for a sec bc it enrages her so, for him. saying he understands his wife being abusive from the sounds of it). "i-i'm not easy to be around---"

"no." ri again, a cold little sound and his head snaps to her, probably bracing himself for her anger at him but she just looks like 🥺 "she had no right" ri tells him. troy just swallows. and he repeats

"she loved me. id have forgiven her anything." ri needs to work very hard not to break down crying, for him. and lee is quietly listening to this, probably holding troy a bit tighter, a bit more securely but he's quiet bc if he starts speaking he's not sure he can stop anytime soon. and he thinks troy needs to say these things first. all of it. troy takes little breaths, grimacing again. His whole face tense since he started speaking, his emotions pulling at it, relentlessly. "then she got pregnant" it's softer said than anything before. it touches their hearts. "and… one day, one day we weren't careful and - she got bit. her arm…." he shakes his head. "i thought id lose her. a-and she- refused to let me cut. she.. and i didn't know what to do, i couldn't lose her, i couldn't… so" he laughed a little, void of amusement "i radioed for help. didn't really think--- but someone heard- and came. alicia." lee knows that name of course and he furrows his brows, squeezing troy gently. "she-she knew what to do. had lost her own arm so.. serena trusted her."

and he does this lip bite thing, like he's hurting and needing to put this into an expression "serena… she changed after that." he tells them how she wanted to be like alicia, help people too. and "she also.. changed her behavior towards me. slowly. couldn't always but--- i could tell she was trying. we… got better, slowly. and i-" he laughs "i was grateful to alicia, you know. for saving her, for changing her. what unbelievable luck i thought." he grimaced a grin "freak luck" Lee and Ri probably share a very concerned glance bc even though this sounds good, he doesn't. he sounds desperate. and they wish they could just take his pain away. "one day she got a call for help she didn't come back from. got robbed, got shot. they just left her there. when i found her… she was dying. i held her as she died. and i thought…. i thought how selfish of me. i'd… i'd been so…."he snarled "so happy about the change in her, i didn't even consider… i should've seen this coming. but i didn't think, didn't think beyond myself. how could i have been so fucking grateful for the thing THAT GOT HER KILLED!?"

[soulsoffairlight]

"Dead I am the rat, feast upon the cat, tender is the fur, dying as you purr"

-Dragula, Rob Zombie

[darkwood-sleddog]

Ah, semi-outdoor dog quirks. Zombie refuses to eat meals inside no matter the weather but will refuse to go outside if it’s raining, unless she is to be fed. Dogs are weird man.

[casualnepotism]

It’s true, it is. I’m not practicing trancing. On instinct, my body turns away to hide the grimace my face is forming at the half-lie. I know it’s as good a tell, apa tells me so every time, but I can’t help it.

My entire body hurts so much. Every bruise on my body is feels self-inflicted. The flames across my chest sear deeper with every breath like they’re branding my actual fuckin lungs. Even my head is pounding, still trying to see through seven sets of fuckin.. ghost eyes; ghost eyes that suddenly don’t exist anymore and now I can’t tell which amount of eyes is worse. My leg screams in frustration, spiking out from the spider bite despite whatever Maelo did to it.

Whatever Maelo did to it.

Whatever Maelo did to it.

Because he’s alive again.

Alive and trying to help. To fix things. Trying to fix our mess when we made it and making everything worse I mean look at Kana and Ace they’re so angry and hurting so much which means so are Cog and Adiane and Dennis is so brave but I know he’s hurting and scared and needs our help and I know he doesn’t care but Jack keeps wanting to talk and I don’t know what I’m going to say I just need to see Nilos and I feel bad cause I’m happy to see Maelo he was my friend he still is he helped me bury-

I said something. I know I did cause he would’ve followed me over here if I hadn’t. I must have said something. The thought follows, as Wol says. Which means I must have also walked over here. Makes sense: I was next to Maelo a second ago and now I’m leaning heavily against some dragon bones. It’s covered in goo but, hey, so am I. Besides, I can see everyone from here.

Everyone is safe. They’re fighting. That’s normal. They’re alive. My hand feels gently along my legs, on autopilot picking up a bone shard to root around in various stabs and rips, making sure there’s nothing big in there that shouldn’t be. Bone discarded, they start pressing harder, pushing bones and muscles back into place. Rubbing circles on new knobbly bits until they feel smooth. The process repeats on my arms.

My hands.

My chest.

My back.

My spine.

My neck.

My skull.

The bruises will fade in time, I’ve learned. Usually. Anything inflicted by one of these gods will stay. The scars and burns and colored marks have always stayed, but that’s good for business.

It’s good. I think. This way of fixing myself after a fight. No one’s noticed, and when they look they don’t care. Ace thinks I’m just rolling my muscles out after a workout. He’s not wrong. It’s relaxing, at any rate. I feel better afterwards. My chest is tighter, every step hurts, and the fuckin pressure behind my eyes is getting worse, but this slows it down. I’m fine.

A quick thirty minutes, and I can go again. I can do this all day.

I haven’t slept since we woke up. I can’t afford to. I don’t have the time. None of us do, but the others get their rest in. I make sure of it. They need their magic back. They need to be ready for the end. Cog needs to be ready-

I didn’t lie. I’m not practicing my trance. I remember trancing. It wasn’t this. It wasn’t. When this is all over, I’ll trance again, under the cherry blossom tree in the backyard, just like we did way back when. It’ll be nice, I think. My entire body won’t be hurting.

It won’t be this.

I. I won’t be this.

[seashellisinmyheart]

The Gaslight District Characters Run down. This was all the information I could glean online.

Melancholy Hill

Described as a 'mafia princess', she is the only female member of The Smiling Dead team. She will be our main character for the series.

Ken The Butcher

Ken has a hatchet sticking out of his head and is possibly the gang's meat man. He is also Breadhead's 'father'..

Mud

Mud appears to be some sort of zombie (although. I think everybody in the show is technically dead) who functions as a detective of sorts for The Smiling Dead gang.

Breadhead

An abberation made of mold accidently created by Ken. He is perhaps the only member of The Smiling Dead that is not undead.

Who is your favorite character so far?

[catgrandpa]

Gotham has always been weird, so when the groundskeeper at the cemetery noticed the Wayne kid’s plot was disturbed, he just chalked it up to more of the same ol’. Alright, so ‘disturbed’ may be a tad too light of a word, but what’s an empty grave in the grand scheme of Gotham? God knows in a city like this one, they could use all the burial room they could get. He figured he’d just jot it down on the website and hope nobody noticed for a while.

Too bad he didn’t account for the 13 year old boy in Bristol who periodically checks the cemetery’s website when he’s feeling particularly lonely.

Plot Removed.

Tim Drake stared at the two words under the heading for Jason Todd’s plot number. Removed? What do they mean ‘removed’? They can’t just remove a plot? That’s a person down there! That’s Robin down there! You can’t Remove Robin!

Calm down. Deep breaths. Assess the situation.

Robin has been dead for 5 months and 14 days. There is no reason for a grave to be removed that early, especially one of a member of such an affluential family. Chances are likely it’s a simple clerical issue. He can call first thing in the morning and make them aware of the mistake. He can have it all fixed in 5 hours.

Just a phone call.

In 5 hours.

…

Tim hates talking on the phone almost as much as he hates waiting.

Well it won’t be the first time he’s snuck out to head to Gotham proper at 1am. It can’t even really be considered sneaking out if there’s no one home to catch you.

Buses stop running at 2, so he layers a couple sweaters under his coat and grabs his best running sneakers so he can comfortably make the trek back.

Just a quick trip to settle his nerves. Maybe get a few shots in if he spots Batman, but really he just wants to see with his own two eyes that things are okay and Jason can rest.

It’s 1:37 by the time he gets to the headstone reading ‘Here Lies Jason Todd’ and the gaping, muddy pit in front of it.

This- This doesn’t make any sense. This is not removal. This is destruction. Desecration. Somebody did this. Somebody-

Assess the situation.

A hole in the ground, approximately 1.5 feet in diameter.

Mud and grass flung outward but with little force.

Large chunks of earth turned over and shoved away.

No signs of tool marks or clean lines of entry into the dirt.

Dragging claw marks.

Staggering, shuffled pairs of foot prints in the mud.

A trail of dirt.

Something… Something large clawed its way out of the ground here. Something large and bipedal and- and humanoid.

Tim refuses to jump to any conclusions he can see all the facts laid in front of him. He’s going to cautiously follow the trail and simply hope to any god listening that he isn’t the world’s first line of defense against the zombie apocalypse.

He’s been walking for 23 minutes and there’s good news and undecided news. Good news: he’s closing in on the target and the trail isn’t taking him out of the way so his trip home won’t be prolonged. Undecided news: The potential Zombie Robin is heading directly for Wayne Manor.

As zombie apocalypse news, this is very bad. From Tim’s collected observational evidence, his not-so-professional opinion is that Batman, faced with a horror movie level zombie of his dead son, would not respond well, and would likely not fight back.

In Batman and Robin news? Tim’s unsure. If Jason is simply back? What could that mean for them? Batman can have his Robin. He wouldn’t have to continue nearly killing others and himself every night in his grief. Jason could-

No. Stop. Do not jump to conclusions.

Hope only brings heartbreak.

What would Batman do? Get close and see if the target is a threat.

Target is male. Mid-teens. Dark hair. Pale skin. Leaning against surfaces as he walks. Appears injured and disoriented.

Minimal risk assessed. Approaching and attempting contact.

Target identity confirmed: Jason Todd.

“J-Jason?” It comes out as a croaked whisper. Jason shows no sign of acknowledgment.

Tim clears his throat, steps right in front of his path, and tries again.

“Jason. Jason, stop I want to help you.” Still nothing.

“Please, Jason. I can help, I promise I can help!”

Why isn’t this working?! Why can’t he just do something right for once?! He wants this to work, he wants to help Bruce, he wants to fix Batman, he wants to not be alone, he wants-

“Robin!”

Robin jerks to a stop.

Tim reached out his hand.

“Robin. Robin please, I’m sorry you’re going through this, it’s really scary, I’m really scared. But I just want to help you. Help you find Batman. Help you get home.”

Jason just stares at him. Of course he does. Of course it’s not going to work. Why did he even bother hoping he could help?

Hope only brings heartbreak.

His sight blurs as his eyes fill with tears and he starts to lower his outstretched hand.

His arm is slowed as a cold hand weakly grasps his own.

“Don’t… scared… Bat… help… Dad… help.”

A relieved sob tears out from Tim’s chest and he gathers himself together. He yanks his extra sweater off and gently pulls it over Jason’s cold shoulders. Jason lets Tim drag his arm over his shoulders to try and carry some of his weight.

“Okay, Robin. Yeah. Your dad will help us.”

Batman will solve everything once Tim gets Robin home.

[sevsdollette]

thinking about ellie when she’s angry. i think I cooked on this one.

contains: mentions of injuries. a little bit of arguing. smut (giving ellie head, fingering (r-recieving), heavy making out, choking, tribbing)

MDNI and men get away!!

it’s been a rough day around jackson. there was a swarm of infected running around in the woods—attacked some people you and ellie knew. they all came back okay, but situations were high-strung. you and ellie had been out the whole day searching, killing, and surviving.

your scout groups were separated. you spent the whole day wondering where your girlfriend was and what was going on with this strange zombie hoard. but, still, you had to stay focused on your own tasks. 

at the end of the day, when the sun was setting over the thick forest, you came back to jackson with your mind set on finding ellie.

her group had returned an hour before and all of them looked a little beat up. 

you walked through the stables, seeing them by the aid station. one of them had a large bandage casted around his leg and was walking on crutches. another was holding a bloody tissue to his face. a couple more had stray bandages wrapped around their limbs. 

you didn’t see ellie at first and your blood froze. your mind told you the worst. ellie was always one to act like a hero. you hated it, but it was who she was.

then she came out from around the corner. from the looks of it, she was fine. but you could tell there was peril behind her eyes. she had this wild, panicked look of a woman still high on adrenaline.

her hair was pulled back and off her neck. her flannel was stained and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. one of her leather boots was caked in mud and the other had a tear in the toe, revealing its steel. she had a hard grimmace, eyes scanning over every person from her squad that was sat against the wall.

you rushed over, dropping your pack and wrapping your arms around her neck. 

she stumbled back before embracing you quickly. “hey, babe, you alright?” she asked

“yeah, are you?” you let go and stood back. maybe you had missed where the injury was.

she purses her loops, looking down the hall of the stable in thought. maybe she hadn’t heard you. her brow was furrowed and her jaw clenched tight.

“ellie?”

she blinked rapidly and shook her head. “what, baby?”

your face tensed. “are you okay,” you repeated.

“yeah, yeah.” she brushed you off, stepping back. “i didn’t get hurt. i’m fine.”

“ellie—“

“why don’t you,” she began, taking your wrist as you tried to touch her face. “go home. i’ll see you there in a little bit. i just have to handle taking care of my crew.”

“well, i could help you—“

“go home,” she pleaded. “just go home.”

you shifted back, biting the inside of your cheek. she hadn’t even been looking at you. her ever frantic mind was too occupied to give you the time.

fine, you thought, picking your pack back up and walking out of the stables. 

you went home. where else was these to go? you slammed through the door, tossing your pack wherever it wanted to land, and stormed upstairs.

part of you wanted your anger to be directed at ellie, but really you were just frustrated. you were mad at the situation. why did today have to be so shitty? your scout mission hadn’t even been too stressful. you shot down one stalker and everything was quiet. 

but ellie must’ve been through the ringer. she hadn’t even told you what happened but you could assume bad enough. it wasn’t normal for her to treat you like that.

you took a deep breath as you undressed and got into some clean clothes. the house was too quiet when she wasn’t home. such a secluded town made an eerily silent world when one was alone. it almost made you feel like you were back out in those woods

you went back downstairs and sat in the living room. you wanted something to occupy yourself. maybe read a book or listen to a record, but you couldn’t get your feet to work to bring you to the bookshelf or record player.

just as you were about to retreat to bed, ellie came clamoring through the door. 

her pack was slung over her shoulder, she had her rifle tucked in the crook of her elbow, and her shoe was untied. her eyes stuck to the floor as she tried to walk without tripping.

“hey,” you hurried, walking over to take the pack off her back. she muttered a thank you and went to the counter to put her gun down. you stood in silence as she kicked off her boots and ran a hand through her messy hair.

she bit her lip, peeling away the dry skin. her hands were perched on her hips and she stared at the floor. it took you a second to see that her bottom lip was quivering and her eyes were glassed over.

you pulled her into an embrace and this time she returned it. she took a large breath, hiding her face into your shoulder as her hands on your back pressed you close. a moment later, you could feel her tears staining your skin. she was silent but shaking.

you smoothed your fingers through her hair and took it out of its tie. “what happened?”

she shook her head, hiding her face further. muffled against your collar, you heard her say, “i thought i was gonna lose them all.”

you shushed her as the tears broke her more. “come upstairs,” you wished. “clean yourself up and rest.”

after a minute, she let you go and you led her up. she showered as you tidied the bed and turned off some of the lights. after a while, you realized she was probably just standing in the shower, staring at the tile wall. 

a lot of her hours were spent blankly staring and thinking. for such a young woman she had too much in her mind. everyone did, living in this world. you surely had your share of bad days. but everything seemed to hit ellie harder.

there was no clock in your bedroom, but you assumed she was in there for half an hour. when she came out, she quickly dressed in a hoodie and sweats but didn’t get into bed.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up.

she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “i just can’t sleep right now.”

“well, why don’t you lay down and try? you’ve had a long day, i’ll help you relax.”

she continued to shake her head. “no.”

“ellie, i just think you should get some rest. why don’t you tell me what happened—“

“i don’t—“ she snapped. her face soured into anger and she clenched her jaw. “i don’t want to go to sleep or talk about it.”

she didn't take her time leaving. the bedroom door was shut behind her before you could think of something else to say. you could hear her stomping down the stairs. a moment later, she was creeking the floorboards of the back porch.

she was smoking again. you told her a thousand times to stop with the cigarettes. it was a nasty habit that would kill her faster than a bloater. she always turned to it when she was stressed and it was difficult to pry it out of her fingers.

you got out of bed and went downstairs. you had no plan in your head to deal with the situation, but something told you to act on instinct.

she was in fact sitting on the back deck, nursing a hand-rolled cigarette. in the dark backyard you could see the burning embers more than her distressed face. when you opened up the screen door she winced and looked away from you, blowing smoke out into the night air.

“i don’t need you yelling at me right now,” she bit, putting the cigarette back between her chapped lips and taking a long drag. “just go to bed.”

“i’m not here to yell at you.” you walked over slowly and stood beside her. you shifted, leaned down to grab her chin and tilt her head up to look at you.

her wide, pouting eyes were pitiful. she stared up at you like she had nothing else in the world. perhaps a part of her was trying to be upset at you, but more of her needed you.

you sighed and whispered her name, leaning in to kiss her. 

she was needy. with your lips, you nearly pulled her up out of her seat so she could stay close to you. her hands were grasping at your jaw, dragging you back down to her.

you held yourself propped up on the arms of the chair, hanging over her as her desperate kisses broke you. she was practically whining and begging to have more of you. her hands slid over your shoulders and under the collar of your t-shirt.

you led your kisses lower, sliding your teeth over her neck to make her stutter. she gripped your shoulders to steady herself as you sucked a dark mark on the curve of her neck. she sighed and leaned her head back to give all of herself to you.

“you need to relax," you cooed, whispering in her ear. “you’ve had a bad day, baby, i know. just let me help you, okay?”

she pursed her lips and nodded quickly, meeting your eyes. her pupils were blown and she watched in awe as you got on your knees in front of her. you slid your hands up her thighs to tease the edge of her waistband. her cigarette was long forgotten as she stared down at you with wide eyes and parted lips.

you kissed her clothed thigh and smiled. 

she was breathless, staring down at you with her mouth agape. with a nervous, light laugh she looked around the backyard and stuttered. “shit, babe. people—someone could see or hear—“

“then don’t let them.” you snapped. pulling at the tie of her sweatpants. that seemed to shut her up enough. 

your backyard was fenced in and had a border of thick trees. someone could only see the two of you if they were trying to. but surely they could hear ellie if they stepped outside. she had a cute habit of not being able to control herself.

you pulled both her pants and boxers down at the same time. just enough so you could spread her legs and dip your head down into her cunt. she eagerly helped you, fighting the elastic to make sure you had enough access.

this was no night to make her wait. 

you kissed up her slit, letting her get just an idea of how it felt, before sliding your tongue through her folds.

she moaned and let her head fall back. you smiled against her, exhaling to tease. your tongue flicked against her pearl, having her nearly slip off the chair, and you kept going.

you rolled your lips over her sensitive bud, sucking it into your mouth and then kissing her. you were slow and loving, giving attention to every inch of her. your hands massaged circles into her upper thighs, urging them to spread as much as they could. she would've been a fool not to listen.

she had her hand gripping the top of your head and moving it how she wanted. part of her force was trying to push you further down to hide you, but more of it was getting leverage to rock her hips and fuck your face. 

she was stuttering in her act to play it cool. her elbow rested on the arm rest, hands clasped over her mouth as she forced her eyes to keep from rolling back. a heavy blush had spread across her face and her legs were shaking. they squeezed around your head as you sucked her clit into your mouth. 

with the extravagance of her reactions, you knew she needed this. every tense bone and muscle in her body was relaxing. you reached up under her sweatshirt with one hand to massage her tit. you rolled your finger over her nipple, feeling it pebble as you rolled it between your fingers.

she bit her lip and whined, rocking her hips faster as her hand fell from her mouth to grip the chair. she still held your head close and steady, flinching and moaning every time you took her clit in between your lips.

"fuck, baby, don't stop," she cried. she lost her breath. "please, don't stop."

her whiny voice sent pleasure down to your core. you were growing wet in your own underwear, pressing your thighs together as you kept your steady but rougher pace.

your eyes flicked up to look at her blushing, freckled face. she looked down and met your eyes, and that was it for her. she cried out, tugging at your hair and pressing her cunt against your face to ride out her orgasm.

you guided her through her high, smoothing your hands over her hips and thighs to ease her down from her bliss.

her lips and face were rosy. she took a deep breath, sighing contently as you bit her inner thigh and licked over the mark.

you rested your head on her leg as she ran her fingers through your hair. she was staring out at the trees, still recovering while you smiled to yourself and drew small shapes on her skin.

"ellie," you whispered, giggling. "you okay?"

she nodded and brushed the hair off your forehead. she looked down at you. "let's go upstairs."

you jumped up and grabbed her hand to pull her with you. she was already on you, chasing you to the back door. she caught you just before and pushed you against the wall.

her lips were on yours before you could think. she roughly grabbed your hips, slamming them back before pushing hers into you. you moaned against her lips, dizzy and weak.

her hand fumbled beside you, opening the back door. when it swung open, she rushed to push you in. she had to get you inside. it was consuming her. her vision tunneled on your body as she followed you through the living room and up the stairs. you were stumbling over each other and you got into the bedroom.

she swung the door shut behind her and grabbed you again. everything was happening so fast you could hardly remember where you were standing when she kissed you. she was frantic and rough, grabbing your ass to pull you against her and squeezing to get a moan out of you.

it was a blur of her desperation. one second you had your shirt on, the next, you didn't. your bra, pants, and panties were quick to be tossed aside. she was stripping too and soon she was throwing you into bed and crawling on top.

she was panting, staring down at your face laid perfectly on the pillows. you were dazed, looking up at her with waiting eyes. naked together, you always lost all sense and could only focus on her.

her body folded against yours as you made out. her tongue was tasting every part of your mouth as your breasts pressed to hers. she slid her thigh between your legs and moaned into your lips when she felt how wet you were.

she hummed. "ready for me already?"

you moaned in response, cradling her jaw to draw her back to kissing you. she tasted like heaven. she was getting sloppier, kissing you like she'd never have another chance. her teeth slid over you bottom lip and bit down enough for you to flinch.

you dragged your hands down her chest while she led hers lower. she was rocking your hips against her thigh, getting all of your slick across her skin as she just barely stimulated you. she wanted to tease you. watching you whine and beg was what got her off.

she kissed your neck as she humped her leg against you. with every drag of her hips you get closer and closer to screaming at her to touch you. that was what she wanted.

"ellie..." you sighed. she bit on the sensitive spot of your neck and you lost all your words. for now, that seemed to be enough for her to do what you wanted.

she moved her leg and dipped her fingers between your folds. your slick was enough for her digits to slide inside of you with ease. you moaned and pressed your head into the pillows. ellie stared down at you, watching every reaction as her fingers curled into your cunt.

you wrapped your legs around her and she leaned back down to kiss you. it was useless as every other kiss was interrupted with your whines. she nipped at your lips and went back to your neck as she fucked her fingers into you. she was hitting that sweet, spongy spot every time. she had your legs shaking and nearly falling off of her.

she bit at you ear lobe. "you're gonna take everything I give you, yeah?"

you moaned and nodded. her voice could've been enough to make you cum.

"good."

her other hand moved up and wrapped around your neck. she pressed and held you down into the mattress. she used the leverage to put pressure on your neck and lean back, fingering you rougher now.

you gasped and struggled for breath. it was embarrassing how another wave of pleasure surged to your core as you struggled to breathe.

"today was really fucking shitty, baby, but you're making it all so much better." she tightened her grip and you dizzied. your fingers felt fuzzy and your eyes prickled with tears. "I really, really love watching you like this. you're so pretty when you're gasping, princess."

she was taking her anger out on you. everything she wanted to do to those infected she was doing to you. hell, she could've killed you now if she wanted to. she had you at her mercy, your cunt squeezing around her fingers and your hands gripping her wrist.

any attempt at speaking was lost in your lungs. her fingers curved and fucked you at just the right spot to get you close to your orgasm. she could tell just by the squeezing of you legs around her hips.

she brought her thumb up to rub circles over your clit. "come on. cum for me, sweetheart."

you choked out a moan, eyes rolling back as your orgasm washed over you in waves of pleasure. she kept her fingers hitting that same perfect spot as you saw stars and clawing at her arm. it all lasted enough to make your vision spotty and your cunt clench around her digits.

she released you gently and rubbed the sore skin where she had held you. you took that long breath you had been needing and blinked the tears out of your eyes. she hummed and kissed you cheek, rubbing your thigh. "you alright, baby?"

you took another long breath and nodded. she smirked and kissed the corner of your mouth, adjusting your legs.

before you'd fully recovered, she was hooking one of your legs around her and moving one of hers over your other. she dipped close and rested her core just above yours.

she slid her folds over yours, finding the right spot to have her clit rubbing against yours. you cried from the overstimulation, gripping her shoulders and digging your nails into her back.

she stared down at the joining of your bodies, rolling her hips over and over again to feel your bud hit hers.

she had one hand holding your thigh and the other arm propped on her elbow beside your head. her face was hot and blushed, lips parted as she moaned softly and breathed heavily.

your eyes pinched shut as the pleasure turned from too much to just what you needed.

she was focusing on her needs. she was using you as a fuck toy to get herself off. that should not have made you as wet as it did. but you pushed your hips up to meet hers, matching her rhythm. you had her biting her lip and sinking her head to your collar.

both of you were overstimulated and close. her legs were shaking, trying to hold her up as she drew herself closer to orgasm. she upped her pace, harshly fucking her cunt against yours. you could hear her whispering vague words but they were lost in your skin. she was unreachable, chasing her high as she led you to yours as well.

"cum with me, baby," she muttered, "please, I need it." her words cut off into a moan as you led your hand down to squeeze her ass. with your hand encouraging her hips, she screamed and came. in her frantic search for pleasure, she brought you to finish and you came with her.

you both were a heaving, blissful mess of easing down from your climaxes. ellie collapsed on top of you, resting her head on your shoulder and rubbing your waist.

your hands found her hair and you ran your fingers through it. your chest heaved and fell with every recovering breath. you stared at the ceiling, unsure of how the night turned around so quickly.

what was once a lust-filled room was now one of comfort and silence. you lay together for eternity, you stroking her hair and her leaving light kisses on your collarbone.

eventually, she climbed off of you to clean up, coming back to wipe you off. when she was done, she got back into bed with you and you held her. her body curved into yours and you could tell she had shut her eyes.

"i love you," you muttered, kissing the back of her neck.

she sighed. "i love you too. and I'm sorry."

you shushed her. "everything's okay, baby. just go to sleep now."

she nodded, burying her face into her pillow.

note: sorry for not posting, i was on vacation and we had no wifi :( anyway, i love love love ellie. and to my friend who was on vacation with me and watched me write this, you slay hope you liked it. i also hope your phone is fixed.

tag list:

@archangeldyke-all, @cacston, @sevsarm, @sevsbaby @maneskinwh0re

@orangepeelz1324

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion. 

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy. 

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look. 

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood. 

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction. 

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp. 

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side. 

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle. 

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one. 

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl. 

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal. 

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart." 

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons. 

"Take it off," he suddenly orders. 

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out. 

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach. 

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?" 

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down. 

You're too slow. 

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall. 

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal. 

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going. 

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

[incorrectbatfam]

I know we already have retail Steph, but could we also have substitute teacher Jason? (how did he get this job? he's a bat), the reason? he really enjoys the idea and the bonus of annoying his younger siblings and keeps the eyes on them

[art class] 

Jason: What'cha sculpting?

Damian: Your updated tombstone.

———————

[English class] 

Jason: Jon, can I talk to you for a sec?

Jon: Is it about my book report?

Jason: Yes. You were supposed to write a report on The Outsiders, but instead, you wrote about the menu at Outback Steakhouse. However, since it's really well-written, I'm giving you a B. 

———————

[math class] 

Colin: *raises his hand*

Jason: Yes?

Colin: Can I go to the bathroom?

Jason: What do I look like, your handler? Just go. 

Colin: *leaves with his backpack*

Colin: *walks out the school to patrol while Jason watches from the window*

———————

[health class] 

Jason: Can anyone tell me the most important food group?

Billy: Your mom.

———————

[social studies class]

Jason: Who can tell me Nanda Parbat's biggest export?

Suren: Assassins. 

Jason: Other than that.

Suren: Zombie assassins. 

———————

[science class]

Jason: Today we're going to learn about the circle of life.

Maya: You would know a lot about that, wouldn't you?

———————

[music class]

Jason: Girls' side, can I hear that first verse from you again?

The girls: *singing*

Maps: *inhuman screeching*

———————

[gym class]

Jason: Where are your gym clothes?

Kathy: At home.

Jason: M'kay, go get some extras from the lost and found.

Kathy: No thanks, black's not my color.

———————

[recess]

Jason, on the phone: I think my first day's going pretty well—

Jason: *gets hit by mud*

Jason: ...I'm gonna have to call you back. 

[michibap]

schlatt w/ single mother!reader

-jaded kindergarten teacher!schlatt who children seem to love for whatever reason

-big grumpy man who has 3-5 small children hanging off of him at any given moment

-he’s cool with most of his students, of course there are gonna be little shit head ipad kids

-but a new addition to his class has been keeping his ass BUSY

-it’s this feral little douchebag who communicates exclusively in growls and grunts (though schlatt and a few other aids have a theory that it’s because he’s shy)

-unless it’s to say something inappropriate that he has to scramble to tell the rest of the kids not to repeat

-fairly good with sharing, it’s the other kids who just come and take that are the problem

-because he’ll just fuckin bite them

“Bodhi, we have got to work on this biting thing, dude. Not cool.”

“Hn.”

“Yeah I know he started it, but sometimes you have to be the bigger person, bud.”

“Buh.”

“I don’t know why I bother.”

-DOES in fact know why he bothered

-Bodhi is a cool little dude

-sometimes when he doesn’t go down for a nap with the rest of the students, schlatt will lie on the floor and draw with him

-and the little dude draws some pretty cool shit

-dragons and robots and zombies, other things of the like

-sometimes he’ll let schlatt doodle something on his paper and add his own flare to it

-schlatt has a FUCKTON of art stuck to his fridge, but Bodhi takes the cake

-one of his favorites was a picture he had drawn of schlatt as a werewolf and himself as a knight in shining armor, protecting another stick figure lazily labeled as “MOM”

-that being said

-another perk of Bodhi?

-hot mom

-HOT fucking mom

-like jesus christ dude

-it may or may not be part of the reason why Bodhi gets away with so much

(GUILTY!)

-he met you for the first time a few weeks after Bodhi was enrolled

-usually, he was dropped off at 8am sharp and picked up at 4pm on the dot by his very sweet grandmother

-so, schlatt was a little up in arms when he was still standing on the sidewalk at 4:30, hand in hand with Bodhi, who was very obviously trying to hold back tears but being very brave about it

-when he sees your shit box truck pull up, he’s ready to tear whatever douchebag is in there a new one

-he’s cooking up a snarky comment as the rusted door swings open

-but he fucking short circuits when your head pops out with a toothy smile, toothpick caught between your canines

-smeared in dust, splattered with mud, sleeves of your neon yellow tee rolled up to reveal strong, tanned arms

“Hey, booger!” you greet excitedly, crouching with open arms

-schlatt tries to get a hold of Bodhi, because as disarming as you are, your ass is NOT on the pickup list

-but before he can stop him, the little shit is hurtling himself towards you with an excited shriek,

“MOMMY!”

-you laugh and wrap him up in one arm, the other shooting out to keep the two of you from toppling to the concrete

-grimacing as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, wiping his snotty nose off on your shirt

-your attention is drawn away by the sound of somebody coughing into their fist

-you look up at where schlatt is still stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over his chest and brows set into a firm line

“Pickup is at 4.”

-you quirk a brow, moving to stand, scooping Bodhi up with one arm and pushing yourself up with the other

“Is it?” you turn to look at Bodhi, who was eagerly nodding from where his cheek was squished to your shoulder

“My bad, bud. I’ll make it up to ya,” you promise, bringing your free hand up to tickle his side, grinning when he giggles and mashes his face into your shirt again

-you turn to schlatt with a guilty smile,

“Got caught up at the site, you know how it is.”

-schlatt only raises a brow, not ready to let you off the hook so easy

“Sure.”

-Bodhi would not shut the FUCK up about how excited he was for his mom to pick him up today

-and you left him WAITING???

-FUCK YOU???

“Unfortunately, you’re gonna get charged for a late pickup fee. ‘s policy.”

-part of him is satisfied when he sees your eyes go a little wide,

“Damn, no strike system or anything?”

-so that’s where Bodhi gets his mouth from

“Against policy. Unfortunately.”

-your jaw sets,

“Right. So are you just gonna charge it to our account or can I give you cash?”

“What?”

“Because I’d really prefer if I could just give you cash.”

“I- Are you serious?”

-it’s your turn to look exasperated

“Look dude if you don’t know it’s fine-“

“No! No-“ he shakes his head, gathering his thoughts

-Bodhi is looking between the two of you, a little confused

“Just- Follow me.”

-he watches you cock your head, expression eerily similar to the child in your arms

“I just have to put something into the computer in the office.”

-your lips form a little ‘o’ and you nod

“Can we show her homeroom?” a small voice asks

-schlatt’s head fucking WHIPS to look at Bodhi with wide eyes

-that’s the most words he’s heard the kid say at once??

-he locks back in when he sees the little guy flush, not wanting to spook him

-FUCK

-he REALLY wanted to get out of here

-and you’ve done nothing but cause problems

-but he CAN’T turn Bodhi down, especially after seeing the little guy try not to cry earlier AND finally hearing him speak up

-deep sigh.

“Sure, bud.”

-he leads the two of you down the hallway, pretending he’s not straining to listen as Bohdi points things out in the hallway and shyly whispers to you

-you eagerly nodding at whatever he says, asking questions that he answers

-he stops at the door of his classroom, wordlessly motioning towards the open door

-Bodhi squirms out of your arms and runs in, giggling as the motion sense lights turn on

-you slowly walk in after him, taking your time

-taking in all of the nerdy decor he has up on the walls alongside the collection of arts and crafts from the students

-schlatt’s watching you look around, weirdly insecure about what you think about his setup

-though your attention is drawn from the walls when a small hand tugs on your own, leading you towards the sandbox that he frequents

-after a few minutes of fucking around, you glance to where schlatt is standing by the door

“Alright, boog, let’s get this show on the road.”

-schlatt grins at your smaller counterpart as the two of you walk over

“You guys ready?”

-like he wasn’t watching you two like a hawk

-Bodhi nods, and schlatt leads the two of you to the main office, holding the door open for both of you to walk in

-he goes to stand behind the desk, mumbling to himself as he logs in

-paling a bit when the system requests that he inputs your ID

-he flushes, glancing up at you and finding you already looking at him from where you’re leaned against the counter

“Could I, uh, see your ID?”

-he watches you quirk a brow, a knowing smile playing at your lips

“My ID?” you parrot, “A little late for that, yeah?”

-he rolls his eyes at your teasing tone

“Please, like he’s not your twin.” he scoffs, nodding at where Bodhi is patiently sitting in a chair that he looks comically small in

-you grin, turning to look at him for a moment, giving him a silly wink when he perks up

“I dunno, I could be some kiddie nabber for all you know.”

“What?” a small voice interrupts

“Mommy’s gonna kidnap you.”

“Okay!”

-you turn back to schlatt

“I don’t know dude, seems like something that could get you into some pretty deep shit.”

-he really couldn’t help the little grin spreading across his lips, your mischievous energy slowly getting to him

-he leans down a bit a bit closer,

“You wanna know a secret?”

-all he can do is PRAY that he doesn’t get red when you lean in as well

-and you really hope you don’t smell too much like asphalt and BO

“Yeah, I wanna know a secret.”

“You’re not even supposed to be in here.”

-your brows raise a bit and you pull back, no longer holding back your entertained grin

-and his stomach drops because FUCK

-could definitely lose his job over something like that

-BUT….

-you have something to gain from this…

-he can tell by the way your grin spreads that you won’t be sending any strongly worded emails the way you were implying you would

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

-his lips spread into a toothy grin that you match, and he holds out a hand that you firmly shake,

“Deal.”

-with a satisfied nod, you turn and wrangle Bodhi out of the chair, and he giggles as he grabs at your shirt and clings to your middle

“Bye Mr. Schlatt!”

-schlatt grins and gives him a little wave, faltering when you turn around with another one of those smirks

“Later, Mr. Schlatt.”

[allfortheslay25]

How the Minyard-Josten kids see each other’s andreil

Translation cuz I know my writing is shit👇

Milo: Maya’s Drew is cold to me cuz I’m not his son. He’s bigger than my Drew and older. He looks cool but I can tell he dislikes me. My Drew can win in a fight

Milo: Maya’s Neil is old and tired looking and really attentive. He’s weird.

Milo: Ollie’s Drew is old but he’s way less squishy than my Drew. He is nicer than Maya’s but if he’s skinny, where will I nap? No more tummy naps :(

Milo: Ollie’s Neil is nice but suuuuper old. He likes me but I prefer my Dad.

Maya: Milo’s Andrew looks like he’d fight the McDonald’s for not during his depression with a happy meal. I want to slap his smile off his face. At least he knows how to dress. Still a loser with gross lungs.

Maya: Milo’s Neil is a harass. He looks like a loser. Scaredy cat. Why Milo listens to him, I have no clue. Raggedy Andy called, he wants Neil to keep the clothes cuz Neil ruined the style. The only good thing is that he lost his awful red hair.

Maya: Ollie’s Andrew is pale and skinny. He looks like an anorexic version of my dad. Subtle wrinkles too. I would sketch him… oh he’s kind too. Gross.

Maya: Ollie’s Neil is a pain in the ass. He’s sweet, it makes me sick. Pale like Ollie’s Andrew. Would be an interesting watercolor painting if I was up to it.

Ollie: Milo’s Dad is funny looking. I like his hair. Why is he fat? He looks emo too. My dad doesn’t smile this much but my dad’s smile is nicer.

Ollie: Milo’s DadMom looks like a depressed Bambi. He’s super young. I like that our eyes match. But he’s too tiny. My dad can beat him.

Ollie: Maya’s dad is mean. He looks like a scary dark beach ball. Or a thug. He looks like a thug for sure. Scary.

Ollie: Maya’s red dad is also scary. Zombie guy. My dad has scars too but this guy is crusty.

Maya’s Andrew does not like Milo because he has not a single connection with him. Milo is a stranger and his existence only means pain to Neil. Her Neil feels a responsibility towards him. The Andrew doesn’t like Oliver either but is way more indifferent since Oliver’s existence isn’t painful to Neil. Maya’s Neil really likes Oliver but pales at the idea of two chaotic kids.

Oliver’s Andrew is indifferent like Neil but they both are kind to Milo and Maya anyway. Those two are far more put together than any of the other andreils.

Milo’s Andrew ignores them and would definitely have a childish argument with both. Neil would be confused on how to feel.

Facts: Maya has an issue with saying rude things. When she’s older, she keeps her mouth shut since she was taught “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”. So she drags them all through the mud in her judgments

[noirgl0w]

cleaning up bsf!jj after he’s all bloodied and roughed up from a fight and he’s looking at you like you hung the stars bc you’re so kind to him no one’s ever this kind to him

You were studying for your exam the following week when you heard three familiar taps on the window: JJ.

You got up quickly, so much so that your legs almost failed to get out of bed and head in the direction of the window like a zombie, he had that effect on you, he was like the Pied Piper, he just attracted you.

"You shouldn't be here." You muttered, you hadn't seen him yet and the sight left you speechless. "J?"

He shook his head, stepping into your room. "I'm fine, I'm fine, jus' need a big ass sleeping session." You had to grab his arm, nearly stumbling when he put his other foot inside your room, his muddy boots staining the pretty white floor.

"What happened?" You pouted, he looked really bad, the left side of his face was purple. "Was it your dad?"

He shook his head and you understood, less talking and more action, you guided him to the bathroom and left him sitting there on the toilet lid while you snuck to your brother's room to get clean clothes for him.

"What are you doing?" He asked when he saw you coming, whispering your name. "No, I'm not going to take a shower now, I just want to sleep."

"My roof, my rules." You murmured, kissing him on the cheek. "You're going to have to dry yourself with my towel, because I don't think I have another one here right now…"

He growled, secretly loving the way yo took care of him, you looked so scared and he wondered if you knew how pretty you looked at this moment.

JJ shook his head. "The one you use to dry yourself with, naked?"

"Sorry about that." You whispered shyly, kissing his forehead. "I'll be right outside, let me know when you're done so we can take care of those wounds, yes?" You muttered, grabbing him by the chin and looking at the bruise on his face.

When he nodded you left the room, going to the kitchen to quickly grab the cleaning products mopping the floor quickly before he was done with his shower, not wanting anything to be stained with mud.

When JJ got out he oppened the door, leaning against the door frame as he looked at you, who was sitting on the floor like a puppy waiting for its owner.

"You having fun there?" He teased, helping you get up, you cursed yourself for thinking he looked good, he was only wearing some grey sweatpants of all the clothes you had gotten for him, and damn did he look good. You shouldn't think that about your injured bestfriend, but couldn't help yourself.

You sat on the sink, and he stood there looking at you.

"It was some kook." He whispered, hissing at the feeling of the alcohol-soaked cotton against his knuckles. "He ended up worse than me, just so you know it."

It made you sigh. "I don't care about how he ended up, I care about you." This made him frown. "And you are going to be sore for at least a week."

JJ looked at you, those baby blue eyes of his fixated on the way yours were shinning with worry, he didn't understand it, as if you couldn't be worried about him. Because you were good, nice, and he was, well, he was JJ Maybank.

You put everything back in the kit, and stood up from the sink, watching him with concern. "Why did you fight with a kook, Jayj?"

"He said... well he said ugly things about the pogues... about you and Kie... and you know, I wasn't going to allow it, no, that dick face couln't get away with it alright?" He sighed. "They just... they think they have the right to treat us as if we are trash, I mean, I kind of am but... You and kie? You?" JJ shook his head. "No, I don't even know how I got so lucky that I'm here and you are taking care of me, that asshole is not going to disrespect you in my face."

He looked in awe as you blushed, hugging him so tight that he could feel your heartbeat against his.

The closest he's ever had to you.

"Lets go to sleep, alright? You look tired..." You said, as if you weren't dying to share your bed with him.

And he of course happily accepted.

[chai-berries]

all my friends support palestine and know neil druckmann is a zionist

A Kiss for The Ping Pong Champ (#22)

when manny said he was planning on throwing a party that night, he didn’t tell abby that it was gonna be at their apartment. so when she comes back home, covered in mud and twigs from a dumbass mission she willingly signed up for, it’s to a party in full swing and spilling out of their front door. the mission was a basic one and abby got pretty filthy but she’d take just about anything that means exploring zombie filled treasure troves. her side of the room is steadily filling with books and pins and little trinkets. she had her current “best find yet” in the breast pocket of her jacket.

abby first hears the party from the stairwell and she practically stalks towards the front door, tired and irritated but not surprised. manny and abby have both hosted parties in their penthouse apartment plenty of times in varying amounts of success. it’s just abby forgot about it and had made plans with you and now they’re fucked.

she smiles politely at everyone she walks to her bunk. grabbing her shower caddy and some clean clothes, she sneaks back out and into the communal showers.

twenty minutes later, abby is clean and back in the packed apartment. manny greets her with a wave and she responds with a prominent middle finger and a sarcastic smile. he cackles, startling the girls beside him.

she gets herself a drink and finds some guys from the gym that she sometimes trains with. one of them, joe, was defending his poorly made joke to abby and the others when abby sees movement from the corner of her eye.

“uh excuse me please?” abby fully turns to see you scooting awkwardly past a group of people. you meet her eye and grin, shouldering past the last person and are soon within her reach.

“hi,” you breathe

“hi,” abby echos.

you look around the party. “i didn’t know there was gonna be this many people when you asked me to come over. i thought it was just gonna be us —”

abby itches to touch you. the itch wins and she gently puts a hand on your shoulder. you stop talking.

“i honestly had no idea about the party. i’m just as surprised as you. do you wanna leave?” abby looks up to see where manny is.

“no,” you say a little too quickly. “i’m cool with staying if you are.”

you share a smile.

“ok then let’s get you a drink. nothing spectacular but they are interesting.” she leads you over to a table where people are mixing up drinks. she goes past all the mixes and shitty liquor and pulls a small bottle out of a box.

“here,” she hands it to you. “it’s wine. from 1993. you said wine ages well and you’ve been wanting some since last christmas sooo” she trails off and suddenly feels like she shouldn’t know that you like wineries and napa valley history and god she’s so weird but you’re smiling at her so that has to be good sign, right?

“abby, this is amazing! thank you,” is all you say but the relief that fills abby is embarrassing. this time it’s your turn to lead you both to abby’s little corner in the front of the penthouse. everyone is mostly in the upper stairs area, besides nora and leah who wave at you both as you pass by. you sit down on abby’s bed and she follows. a silence passes between you as the party becomes ambience. abby remembers her surprise and reaches into her jacket’s breast pocket. she closes her fist around the item and scoots back so her back leans against the wall and her feet hang off the bed. you follow her movement with your eyes. she makes eye contact with you for a brief second. you note that she looks bashful.

“i, uh, found you something while i was out.”

“yeah?” you turn to sit sideways on her bed, one leg tucked under you.

“you gotta close your eyes first.” you close your eyes and hold your hand out, a big smile on your face. what you can’t see is that abby is easily caught off by your smile and almost misses dropping the mysterious item into your hand.

“okay you can open your eyes now.” you do so.

in your hand is a necklace. a long gold chain and a pendant. you untangle the necklace and hold it up. the pendent is the letter of your first name. the necklace as a whole is in pretty good condition with only a little chip on the pendent.

“oh abby,” you look up and see the girl blushing. “this is so sweet! i love it. thank you.” regardless of how uncomfortable it will be, you lean forward to hug abby tightly. “thank you again, abs” you whisper and kiss her cheek before pulling away.

you quickly undo the clasps and ask abby to put the necklace on you. after a failed attempt of putting it on while sitting, you both stand up. you turn your back to abby and she very ceremoniously places the necklace on you. once it’s clasped you turn back around to face her. you reach up to adjust the pendant so it sits in the middle, by your sternum.

when you look up, abby is already smiling at you. she opens her mouth to say something when someone calls her name.

she rolls her eyes and answers with a reluctant “yeah?”

it’s joe again. “it’s raheem’s birthday and he wants a beer pong rematch.”

“right now? i’m busy.” she glances at you.

“yes now. he heads out on that week long mission tomorrow morning.”

abby closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. it’s raining outside and she can hear the rain above her head. she exhales heavily through her mouth. she looks back at you and you have the most understanding eyes in the world and abby both hates and loves it.

“okay,” she says to joe. “one game and he gets the bad beer and im taking that nice stuff.”

joe holds his hands up. “righto, captain.”

abby rolls her eyes again. she looks back at you. “this okay? just one game and they’ll leave me alone.”

you roll your own eyes but there’s a smile on your lips.

“abs it’s fine. i promise. now go, because i think joe is coming back over here.”

and sure enough he was. abby briefly squeezed your hand before heading up the stairs. you walk over to nora and leah, who have been joined by a happy drunk whitney. they were getting up to join you to watch abby kick reheem’s ass, all of you making up abby’s cheer squad.

the cups and sacred ping pong balls are already set up. you make sure to stand where abby can see you and you can see her. and she makes sure to wink at you before shooting the first ping pong of the game right into one of raheem’s cups. the boy groans loudly and his friends cheer on abby. abby holds her hands up, shrugging off the attention. you bite your lip to stop smiling at her antics. your eyes catch movement as she pulls up the sleeves of her henley to her forearms, making her arms look even bigger. pulling the sleeves up also shows off her bracelet collection. including one that you made her months ago. she’s never taken it off so it’s worn and faded. but the sentiment is still there and it makes your heart ache with love for her.

while raheem takes his time aiming, you continue watching abby as she stretches her arms over her head and twists her upper body back and forth. you suddenly remember that abby just came back home from an overnight mission and there were currently over twenty, mostly drunk, people shoved into her apartment. she’s probably exhausted but putting on a good show for these people that look up to her. you make a mental note to ask her if she wants to come back to your place until the party’s over. your room is smaller but ten times quieter. you continue to zone out a bit, watching abby while thinking about abby as the game continues in front of you.

unfortunately (but fortunately for you) everyone knew the end score pretty quickly. abby had four out of six cups left on her side while raheem had two left on his. the crowd was engaged in the action like it was a tennis match. manny had even moved to stand beside abby as her right hand man. your eyes stay locked on her.

it was raheem’s turn and everyone watches as his ball hits the rim of the cup but bounces away. the crowd groans for him. abby steps up and without even trying, sinks the ball into the cup closest to raheem. the crowd cheers. raheem goes again and makes it. abby downs the cup and wipes away the little bit that missed her mouth with the back of her hand. she picks up a ball and closes one eye to aim it perfectly before letting it go. the ball arches in the air and lands in its target.

the people cheering for abby lose their minds. manny starts to shake abby excitedly. joe and a few of the other boys from before surround her. you hear manny say something about getting abby “a drink fit for champions”. you watch abby smile and joke with her friend until the crowd by the alcohol table blocks her from you.

beside you, nora clears her throat. you stop searching for abby and look to nora.

she’s fighting off a smile.

your brows furrow in confusion. “what?”

nora shrugs. “i don’t know. i just wanna know when did you get thirsty? where did my innocent friend go?”

“what are you talking about?”

“c’mon. you are so obvious. you were practically undressing abby during the whole game. we are in public, girl. have some class,” nora laughs.

you look down. “i’m not undressing her with my eyes,” you mumble. nora scoffs

“i don’t know why you are so in denial. you have the girl,” nora’s eyes move over your shoulder. “and speak of the devil and she shall appear. hey abs! congrats on demolishing raheem! i just know he’s going to be sulking about this in the clinic for months.”

abby shrugs. “all in a day’s work.” she turns to you. “you okay?”

you smile at her. “yeah i’m fine. nora was just bullying me.” you pout. abby’s head swivels to nora who has the common sense to be already walking away with leah and whitney shuffling behind her. “it’s fine. it wasn’t serious.”

abby looks back towards you. “okay…do you wanna get outta here? i feel like if i stay, someone is gonna wanna challenge me again or something.”

“yeah! i was just gonna ask if you wanted to come to my place? ya know, until the party clears out.”

abby blushes. “yeah i’d love to. let me just grab my bag.” she moves to go down the stairs but stops at your hand grabbing her bicep.

“wait abby?”

she stops a step below you. “yeah?”

she is taller and generally bigger than you because of her muscles but having her be a step down makes it easier for you to cup her face and very gently press your lips to hers.

the gentle kiss is met with abby’s own passionate response. she reaches for your waist. your hands go from her face to her neck and then down to her shoulders.

you pull away first. “and that’s a kiss for the ping pong champion”

abby opens her eyes and hums in response. she squeezes your waist and let’s go, walking down the stairs to grab her bag. when she comes back she simply takes your hand in hers and interlaces your fingers.

just like the way she arrived, abby smiles politely at people who say hi but doesn’t stop walking until the sounds of the room fade away and she can only hear you and the sounds of both of your feet along the hallway.

[luveline]

hi jade! this is kind of a random request but I was wondering if for ur zombie!au you would write where something happens that reminds reader of the guy that kidnapped her at the college a while after it happened and she’s upset she’s still thinking ab him but Steve comforts her and it’s all fluffy sorry if this is too specific love u!

zombie au —steve comforts you through the panic of a bad memory. fem, 1.3k

The tent is quiet. You've taken the blankets out while the sun is high, having washed them and needing her help to get them dry again, and your collective belongings make a meagre pile in one corner. If you wanted, you could lay down flat. 

Might as well, you decide. The ground is far from unfamiliar, no rock nor pebble capable of disturbing you. 

Your back aches, your neck worse, and an hour or two of sleep would do you good no matter how unforgiving the floor is, but it isn't your comfort that's the problem. You hear a skittering sound and throw your gaze to one corner of the tent. A footstep, and your attention is drawn to the other. 

It's hard to relax without a lap to hide your face in, or a rough, familiar hand in the curve of your neck. 

You're not sure where Steve is today. It's like that here, sometimes. You'll be told to do one thing and sent to do another, and while you'd been sent home ages ago, he's still out, and so is Robin. 

You miss her a lot lately. She's not around much. To think you hadn't trusted her when you first met… it's all silly looking back. You couldn't believe she wanted to be your friend until after she'd— 

Connor. 

You bite your cheek and try not to think about it. You'd found it hard to trust Robin until she, with Steve (and few others) came to find you. When Connor stole you. Paralysed with fear, you'd walked miles in the cold, his pistol a threat tucked into his jeans. 

The memories surface one at a time like barbs emerging from a slow sand. How stupid you were. How scared. And Connor ‘The Creep’, how cruel he'd been, the crush of his hand on your face and the way he'd thrown your head back into a wall. The disorientation, the ache of your wrists, the claustrophobia. All of it. 

You raise your hand to your face and feel for the scars. They're miniscule now, practically invisible. They would've faded completely if they hadn't gotten infected. Your index nail catches on the worst one near your mouth and feels back and forth the length of it with a morbid sense of otherness. 

It hadn't taken much for him to do whatever it was he wanted to do. If Steve hadn't cared enough to look for you, Connor would've done much worse. You'd been completely and totally helpless, and that feeling isn't one the heart likes to remember. Your pulse climbs, climbs, races, a sudden pressure in your throat like you might gag. You hurry into a sitting position with a hand on your heart, the other screwed into the floor of the tent, and struggle to draw breath. Each inhale feels like you've pulled it through a narrow straw. 

He must hear it from outside of the tent. “Y/N?” Steve asks worriedly, his voice before his face, though his face swiftly follows as he brushes aside the tents opening to find you. “What's wrong?” 

You wave a hand at him weakly. 

He climbs in, the clay of the river mud thick on his shoes and hard not to think of as he kneels at your side. “Hey,” he says, his hand on your wrist, eyebrows tugged down into a deep furrow. “Why are you panicking? You're okay.” 

“I'm fine.” 

“Yeah, you are.” He smiles, barely, giving your hand a weak squeeze. “You're fine. So let's breathe.” 

Steve takes big, deep breaths for you to follow. You fail to copy him, but it doesn't matter. His being here is enough to feel safe again, to be here, and not a hundred miles northward, huddled and crying in an abandoned cabin thinking you'd never get to go home. 

“Ah,” you say, unintelligible sputter, chest aching like a wound, “sorry, sorry,” —you duck your head— “sorry.” 

“Would you–” 

“I'm sorry.” 

“Stop it.” He ducks his head low to find you, hand searching for your other, bringing both to hold atop your knees. “What's the matter, huh? Why are you freaking out?” 

He speaks gently, but betrays his own panic with a bad habit, the slightest quirk of his mouth. 

“It won't make sense.”

“Says who?” 

“It was a long time ago.” 

Steve's lips part. 

“It–” Your eyes ache, your throat too. “It's– It doesn't make any sense, I shouldn't be–” You shake your head. 

Steve lets go of your wrists. “Honey, it doesn't matter when it happened,” he says, measured, as though painting each word between you one by one. 

“I was just laying down and I was thinking about Connor. Why am I still thinking about him?” You stare hard at the spot between his eyes. “It's been so long since… My hands…” 

Steve's eyelashes flare with surprise, but he hides it quickly, a more solid expression of unhappiness taking place. “Aw, babe,” he says under his breath. He brings his fingers to your cheek and wipes up and down reassuringly. “I don't think you get to choose. We don't pick what stays around, right?” 

“I don't want to think about it at all.” You inhale too quick and Steve cups your cheek. 

“Relax,” he says, still so quiet. “Who cares why you're thinking about it? You're not doing anything wrong. You didn't do anything wrong.” He looks at you imploringly. “You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, of course I do. He wasn't well–” 

“No, he wasn't. And he hurt you, and if you think about it, that's okay. Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Can you–?” 

His smile softens. He wraps his arms around your waist, forcing you to go over his shoulders as he leans back to drag you in. You let the entirety of your weight sink into his grasp, sighing as he sighs, and breathing in again with his breath. His hair smells like the river, and his shirt is damp under your hands. He's cold, likely tired from a long day, but he doesn't give any indication to you that this is too much to have to deal with. If anything, you'd think he's quite enjoying himself, his sigh long and relieved. 

“Please don't panic about him,” he says into your collar. “Don't be scared. Nobody's ever getting near you like that again, I swear.” 

“I'm not scared.” Even if someone does get close, Steve's always gonna be right behind you. You know he'll fight to get you back. 

“Don't worry,” he says, pushing his face into your neck. “Sweetheart, please don't worry.” 

Sweetheart. You close your eyes and slouch into him like all the strength has left you. It's nice to just lean on him, and know he doesn't mind the weight. Despite everything, Steve loves you. 

“Sorry,” you say. For crying, and for having failed in the first place. 

He pushes you backward gently to take your face into two hands. 

“You get the wrong things wrong,” he says, smiling ruefully. “You know? You care about all the wrong things, and that's not– I'm not– I don't care. I don't care that you're upset about this, you don't have to be sorry for it, I just care that you're crying. We've talked about this before, haven't we? I'm sorry I haven't made it clear, but I'll keep trying, okay? And you need to keep telling me how you're feeling without thinking it's something to be sorry for.” 

You pout a little to stop from crying, tears anew in your waterline. To be loved by him is enough to put the past back in the past for now. “Do you ever stop talking?” you ask. 

“Nope,” he says, beaming at you as he wipes your cheek, “never. Not when I'm with you.”