#anyways bye to whoever’s reading this

[softplushiee]

doodled some randomized mcs !!

[gatzbright]

sweater weather

dnf fic, 1.6k, one shot, general, ao3 link [Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Fluff]

A cry escapes George’s lips. “Dream—” Dream brings George closer, holds his face in two large palms. “Tell me when you’re hurting, sweetheart,” he whispers thickly, “and I can try help.” George shakes his head. “No,” he says, weepy, “‘s’too much—” “Never,” Dream says. He holds George’s gaze. “You’re never too much—nothing you ever feel is ever too much.”

[Or, The tide brings in old feelings, and George feels the ache.]

[leosbrightstar]

is it just me or does anyone else get so happy when a queer couple or character shows up in a not lgbtqia centered book

[froggyrights]

The dual destinies soundtrack goes Sooo fucking crazy im losing my mind how is it this good

[flyingspicerack]

The Sillies!!

[maraudersidk]

The next gen era has sm potential but people just don't wanna see it. Like what i love about them is there's not alot of canon and even CC is usually ignored so u can literally write whatever.

And they don't have a war looming over them unlike their parents and grandparents they can enjoy their childhood (unlike their parents) and their adulthood (unlike their grandparents)

Also i feel like because of this it's such a nice area to represent neurodivergent characters because i feel like even tho most characters were not neurotypical they didn't get the chance to have the freedom to understand that part of them because they were well yk dying

I have so many hcs and if i could write i would so many fics but my pacing is so bad, but lwk this makes me want to write oneshots for my rair pairs.

Also i may or may not have made post of them gay but like who's gonna stop me😝🤷🏻‍♀️

[noteveryoneis]

Avatrice Pirates Au

Okay so if you know me on twitter (which you probably don't cause I have like 15 followers and I keep my shit hidden) you know that about two months ago I fell deep into my stupid idea of an avatrice pirates au and that I drew a stupid little drawing that got a little bit of attention, but it stopped here. I wrote only the first 4k words and stopped there because the fixation passed.

Anyways. These pieces by this amazingly talented artist reminded me of that and although I won't probably ever write it again, I'm starting to consider using tumblr to just post snippets of fics instead of writing them whole cause I never manage to finish them.

Anyways.

Here's the avatrice pirates au I never wrote (and you'll probably understand why some things are better left untold):

1700s, on a Caribbean island I did a lot of research about but forgot the name of:

Beatrice is an aristocrats’ daughter that is about to be married to the rich governor, which is pretty cool for her parents cause there's no way she could do better. Beatrice is not happy about it but she complies like a good daughter (a vial sits in the drawer of her bedside table, hidden under her Bible, her escape, her salvation).

On the night of her engagement party, Beatrice is called for outside discreetly by her future husband's valet, and brought to the gardens, far away from the party (she's not complaining, she wants out). There, her fiancé explains that he knows she would never love him, asks for her friendship. Beatrice knows she would never be able to give it to him but lies anyway and says he has it all. After that, the dude tries to kiss her and then BOOM! He's knocked unconscious by two figures that hide in the dark (one with two shotguns hidden under her long coat, the other with a glowing red jewel around her neck and pointy teeth).

Beatrice tries to warn that they're being attacked but then, get this: these bitches gag her, blindfold her and kidnap her! Shit's about to get real around here.

Those two 'Mary' and 'Lilith' bring her to their ship which is on the other side of the cliff, hidden from view, and then some idiot stops in front of her, congratulating the two of them for their work and asking that they take off Beatrice's gag and restraints and blindfold.

Beatrice opens her eyes to Ava the Pirate Captain grinning at her, and has the brilliant idea of spitting in her face and insulting her, which just makes Ava laugh. As Beatrice is being brought to a cabin by Camila, she steals her sword and decides to kill Ava herself cause she's pissed.

Ensues a pretty epic sword battle or something, but Beatrice is wearing a 40 pound gown and she trips on her skirt and loses and is absolutely fuming. "Get me out of that horrendous dress and give me a properly balanced sword and maybe we’ll call it a fair fight," she says, but Ava laughs and asks why they would fight a fair fight, they're pirates, they don't do this 'honour shit'.

Anyways, Beatrice is left in the captain's cabin as the whole crew sails away, and fucks up a window to try and jump off (in this story Beatrice has absolutely 0 regards for her safety and is filled with rage and hate for pirates so she's pretty unhinged). Too bad Ava catches her before she can do that, calling her insane. Beatrice kicks her out of her own quarters and barricades herself inside, vowing to stay until the end of their trip.

Yeah, cause the whole point of this is to ask for a ransom in exchange for Beatrice, so unfortunately they have to keep her alive the whole time, which Ava doesn't seem very pleased about, but she wants the money so she complies.

Anyways, the details are a little fuzzy but during the following weeks Beatrice sparks a friendship with Camila who provides her with lighter clothes and tries unsuccessfully to make her wear pants (again, details fuzzy but they have an interesting conversation about femininity and masculinity and shit).

Camila is the one to explain the whole crew to her. Camila herself ran away from her abusive husband and will give her life for Ava, as she was the one to provide her with an escape. Mary's mother killed her father and told her to run and since then Mary has vowed to never set foot on land again, she's the only one allowed to call Ava out on her bullshit. Lilith is a witch. Like a total fucking witch. Her story with Ava is pretty confusing, I only remember that she granted Ava some kind of second life when she found her dying (of what, I'll have to think about it) against a place on her ship. There is a dude named Michael somewhere, Beatrice hasn't met him yet. Hans is the cook. He's chill.

As for Ava, Camila says Beatrice will have to find out her story on her own like a big girl.

Then, one night, as Beatrice is just bored out of her mind, the door of her cabin is forced open and Ava runs inside. Beatrice at first grabs the nearest shoe to throw it at her, but Ava doesn't give a fuck. She has a child in her arms, Camila and Lilith are running after her as she makes her way to the fireplace (I don't know if there can be fireplaces on ships, but let's be real this isn't the most unrealistic thing about this whole au).

Beatrice is Scandalised ("YOU HAVE A CHILD ON BOARD YOU MONSTER?!"), but she doesn't have time to think about that. The child is sick, he's shaking and crying and burning with fever and Ava is frantic, trying to find a way to heal him. She's yelling at Lilith to take her life and give it to the child, when the boy starts choking. Beatrice's 'I know everything''s ass immediately springs into action and drops all of her hate for Ava to save the boy (Diego, his name is Diego). How she does that, I haven't done enough research to answer that question, but let's say she uses everything she knows from her books and manages to make him breathe once again.

Ava then wraps him into her coat, scoops him up in her arms and goes back outside, and Beatrice follows after her because "Are you insane what are you doing", only to find Ava on the main deck, holding him against her chest and whispering to him.

("Do you smell that, boy? This is the smell of the sea. The sea is here, the sea is us and we are Her. Can you feel it? This is the scent of our freedom.")

Diego falls asleep against Ava's chest, and Beatrice tries to berate her for bringing a child in such dangerous conditions, but Ava stops her right there. "Do you think I haven't tried? Do you think I like it, to know that he could be killed at any moment? I have tried to leave him on land many times before, he always finds his way back to me. He is a child of the sea, and so am I." Beatrice understands, doesn't push, instead helps her hold Diego so that he can breathe freely until the sun rises.

But after that episode, Ava finally decides to leave him on land for good, with the right people. So, she calls for Michael, and ensues a cryptic conversation that Beatrice doesn’t really understands but from what she can tell, Ava is asking if they can leave Diego with Michael’s mother, and he sighs, saying he doesn’t want to see his mother but that he’ll do it for the boy.

Beatrice accompanies them to Jillian’s house (because Ava doesn’t think her crew can stop her from escaping without her supervision), where she learns that not only Ava can read (the latter is pretty offended by her assumption) but she also knows about Jillian’s works in physics. It turns out Jillian didn’t want Michael to leave, after his father was taken during a storm, and he ran away years ago. She agrees to keep Diego with her after a long conversation ("Protect my boy," Ava says, "and I’ll protect yours."). Diego doesn’t want Ava to go, but she convinces him, telling him that they’ll write to each other but that he has to learn how to read for that, she promises to visit him at least once every year.

Ava cries when they leave, tells Beatrice to swallow back her comments, but Beatrice doesn’t have any.

After that, Beatrice sort of opens up to the crew and to Ava, because she realises that there isn’t shit else to do (that’s what she tells herself, but deep down she also wonders what she would have been if she had been born pirate). 

Mary’s wife comes back in the middle of nowhere, somehow finding a way to track down their boat. Beatrice is shook because WAIT YOU CAN MARRY A WOMAN?? (and Ava's like "Yeah, who do you think married them?") And because they both look pretty normal and in love and she doesn’t find it that disgusting. Shannon has brought a woman that is being chased by the Inquisition for her scientific knowledge and called a witch, Yasmine, who just rolls with the chaos.

Beatrice and Ava bond over their knowledge of physics and play chess and one night during a storm Ava injures her hands and Beatrice has to hold the rudder (?) for her, following her directions until they are out of the storm (cause ain’t no way she’s dying on a pirate ship).

She also rectifies their map because “they’re completely wrong, you idiots”, pretends that she just doesn’t want to get lost with them, and uses all of her knowledge to draw the land accurately (and Ava provides her with the finest inks and pens and parchments because "I just want a good map, lady").

There was also that episode where they meet sirens (mermaids? Man, idk) and one of them, Melanie, is Shannon’s half sister and so in sisters’ fashion she immediately jumps into the water to try and fight her and THAT’S when Ava convinces Beatrice to try on pants because she can’t swim with that many petticoats. 

The sirens show them sea caves and the glowing seaweeds and sea shells and Beatrice goes nuts as she watches the constellations drawn on the inside of the walls of the cave (and maybe Ava looks at her a little too fondly from across the cavern and Melanie teases her about it).

There was also another episode where they’re on land for errands (don’t ask) and a horse escapes its enclosure and Beatrice manages to catch it by running after it and then mounting it (and it feels so freeing, to be able to breath and to feel the air on her face and in her hair) and then she returns if and Ava is shook because "why didn’t you run away??" and Beatrice uncovers Ava’s biggest fear: horses.

It turns out that Ava lived her whole life in an orphanage after her mother’s death, with another little boy named Diego, mistreated and abused, until she fell in love with a boy who promised to marry her and give them both the life they deserved. And Ava, like an idiot, believed him, did everything for him. Until she found out that JC was engaged, that he had never intended to marry her, and so she went maybe a little bit cray-cray and not only stole from his place but also stopped the wedding and told his bride everything before making her escape. To her surprise, Beatrice doesn’t berate her, doesn’t tell she shouldn’t have done that, instead she smiles like she’s picturing the scene herself and they both laugh. 

Then there was an episode where they go out to drink and drag Beatrice with them cause it’s funny to watch her be so scandalised about everything. And they end up in a bar where some woman named Lucia sits down next to her and starts talking with a flirtatious smile that Beatrice doesn’t notice (and Ava looks weirdly at them but doesn’t intervene because it’s not her business). When Lucia assumes that she’s with the captain, Beatrice gets so embarrassed she loses her shit a little and starts stuttering and Lucia laughs and tells her it’s alright, that she can help her teach her some things if she’d like. Beatrice takes a pass (and lots of repressed memories come back to her and we as readers discover that Beatrice isn’t just not attracted to her fiancé, she’s also a woman kisser and is admitting to herself that she’s also a woman lover and a man hater). 

At some point the crew crosses paths with a small Navy ship and board it and win the pointless little fight and immediately starts stealing their merchandise. Beatrice wanders around the ship (“Don’t mind the woman,” Ava warns the crew that she has rounded up on the main deck. “She’s just looking around.”) The moment she has her back turned, Beatrice tries to give a letter for her parents to a terrified sailor, but Ava catches her.

To say that she’s disappointed is an understatement, they get into a big verbal fight as Beatrice is brought back to her cabin. Beatrice insults them all, tells Ava that they’re nothing but a little band of thieves and killers, that there is no way in Hell that they would ever be friends, no matter who they’d have been born to be. Then Ava tells that she’s no better, marrying a crook and an idiot and Beatrice might agree with her but she’s very very angry right now and so she tells her something like ‘he’ll always be better than you’. 

And Ava goes “Who do you think told us where to find you?”

To which: “What?”

“Who do you think told us where to find you? How come you were outside when everyone was inside having the party? How come there was so much noise and nobody could hear you scream? Who had the idea, Beatrice? Do you think you were chosen at random? Do you think you were picked because you’re rich or because someone asked us to?”

And everything starts adding up and Beatrice realises how much she’s fucked, and screams at Ava until the woman leaves, closing the door behind her.

And Beatrice is devastated, because she’s going to be brought back to her parents, to marry the man that has ordered her kidnapping and will enjoy his own share of the money and it makes her sick

No later than the next day, Ava receives news (letter or messenger?) that Beatrice’s family is ready for her return, as well as the money that they asked for. “Congrats, milady,” she says darkly. “You’re going home.”

And Beatrice feels nothing.

She feels nothing as she takes back her heavy dress, she feels nothing as she slowly and painfully puts it on, she feels nothing as she detangles her hair and tries to braid it back like her maid did on the day of the engagement party.

She feels nothing, until she looks in the mirror and finds the woman she used to be looking back at her. And she thinks about the cold bed in the colder house of her husband, about her parents looking away from her, about the vial of poison hidden in her bedside table and she panics.

Ava finds her clawing at her dress, breathing erratically and trying desperately to take it off. “Get me out get me getmeoutGETMEOUT!” and she has to take out her knife and cut the laces of her corset for Beatrice to breathe, and then she holds her as she cries and cries and says things about poison and how she doesn’t want to die and how she hates that man and she begs Ava to not give her back and Ava cups her face, looks at her in the eyes and promises that they will never have her. 

It takes a bit of convincing for the crew to agree to let Beatrice stay, but Ava gets there.

(There was also this unnecessary but funny episode where they’re in a bit of a jam because Beatrice’s fiancé promised the money once Beatrice was returned to him, and so they wonder how they’re going to get the money — and Beatrice gets scared that they’re going to give her back after all but Ava runs her thumb over her knuckles and tells her they’d never do that. It ends with Lilith dressing up as the bride — she’s pretty pissed about that but they have no other choice — with a veil covering her face and Beatrice giving them a detailed map of her parents’ place so that they know exactly what to do. Ava shows up grinning with fake Beatrice “Look I brought you your bride, ready for the wedding!” and gets her share of the money as Beatrice hides in the back, disguised as a man. Lilith ends up running away from Beatrice’s family after dramatically revealing herself and Beatrice is the one to guide her to the ship — “HOW DO YOU RUN IN THIS THING?” Lilith asks. “YOU DON’T.” — and then they run away and Beatrice finds out that those idiots also stole a lot of her parents’ jewels and she thinks it’s funny as shit.)

There’s probably going to be another part to this but let me have a little break first I’ll be back with my bullshit later.

Pirate au👄💅

[nyoomfruits]

wrote a little carcar drabble with the tsgc for the prompt 'a helping b wash up (whether it be their hair, body, some blood off their hands, etc). enjoy!

Everything hurts. Oscar should’ve seen this coming, really. You don’t really go flying into the barriers at the speed he did without getting at least some bruises. At least there were no broken bones, or internal bleeding. Actually, back in the hospital, because they made him go to the fucking hospital, he’d felt fine, really. Little beat up, yeah, but fine.

But now, now that he’s alone, back in his hotel room spread out on the large queen sized bed, the adrenaline starts wearing off and the pain starts seeping in.

He should get up and shower, he knows. He still finished most of the race, and while he’s long changed out of his race suit he’s still gross and sticky underneath his McLaren polo. But the bed is soft, so soft, and getting up means moving and moving means more pain and maybe he’d just. He’d just rather not, right now.

Which is obviously exactly when there’s knock on his door. It’s not Mark, because Mark left an hour ago after making Oscar promise he’d try to get a good night’s sleep. He saw Lando in the paddock already, big sad eyes and worried hands skimming over his body, but Lando is Lando so Oscar knows he believed him when he said he was fine and just needed to sleep it off.

It’s not his family, because his family is all the way on the other side of the world. His mum had called, earlier, worry etched into her voice. He tried to reassure her, but he’s never been good at that. She’s always been too good at reading him. But no matter how good she is, she’s not magic, so even she can’t condense a 16 hour plane ride into merely two hours.

Which leaves. No one. Which means Oscar is not really planning on getting up to answer. Except the knocking gets louder. More persistent.

Oscar sighs. Takes a deep breath. Hauls himself off the bed and shuffles his way over to the door. His ribs are the worst, where the siding slammed into them on impact. His arms are pretty bruised too, and his legs. He takes a deep breath, and swings the door open. “What,” he asks, hoping to deter whoever has decided to bother him right now.

“Oscar,” Carlos says. He breaks Oscar’s name up, like always. Os-kar. “You are okay?” He sounds breathy, like maybe he ran here. Which is stupid. Because Carlos is not. They’re not.

“I’m not up for sex, if that’s what you’re asking,” Oscar bites, like he always does when Carlos does something that catches him off guard.

Carlos deflates a little, like Oscar answered the question without answering the question. “I am not here for sex,” he says, and that’s even more baffling because. Because that’s all they’ve been doing, really. That’s. That’s what the thing is. They shop u to each other’s hotel rooms, they fuck, they leave. They don’t do whatever Carlos is doing right now.

“Okay,” Oscar says. “Bye.” He goes to close the door, but Carlos’s foot wedges in between. Oscar briefly considers repeatedly slamming the door close anyway until Carlos gives up and removes his foot, but that would give Carlos the satisfaction of knowing he actually managed to rile Oscar up.

“I need to make sure you are okay,” Carlos says.

Oscar pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s tired and hurting and gross, and he so does not want to deal with any of this. “I am fine. Didn’t they tell you I was fine? Just some bruising. It’ll heal. Could really use a shower, but that’s it.”

Carlos eyes scan over him, like he can look through Oscar’s drawstring jeans and McLaren polo and actually assess the bruising underneath. “Why didn’t you?” Carlos asks.

“What,” Oscar asks. His head is starting to hurt too. He wonders if he has any body parts left that don’t hurt, at this point.

“Shower,” Carlos says. “You left the track an hour ago.”

“Are you stalking me or what,” Oscar bites, but when Carlos just stares at him, relents with a sigh. “I’m. It hurts, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I crashed into the barrier at an ungodly speed and now I hurt. Happy?”

Carlos looks the opposite of happy, mouth pitching down and brows knitting together. “Where?” He asks. The eyes are back, scanning, scanning, scanning. It unsettles Oscar unlike anything else.

“Everywhere,” he says, because he’s tired, and he hopes that if maybe he just admits Carlos will start the process of leaving him alone.

It’s the wrong thing to say. Carlos moves his foot forward and, catching Oscar by surprise, manages to push his way into the hotel room. “Show me.”

“What? I’m not… Jesus, Carlos, I just told you I’m not having sex with you right now,” Oscar says. They’re in his hotel room and yet Oscar feels like he’s playing an away game with how confusing Carlos is being right now.

“Oscar,” Os-kar “Show me.”

Stupid stubborn bull headed Carlos and his stupid inability to just let things go. Oscar sighs, and pulls off his polo, gently, but still making himself wince, before throwing it on the floor. “There, happy?” He says, testily, frowning at Carlos.

Carlos sucks in a breath through his teeth, steps forward. Mutters something like “Ay, cariño” that Oscar doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to understand right now, and then tentatively reaches out to brush at Oscar’s side, where the bruising is the worse. He’s being so gentle about it, so soft, and Oscar shivers, even though the hotel room they’re in isn’t cold at all. “Alright, let’s get you in the shower,” Carlos says, and it’s so clear he isn’t taking no for an answer, and it’s so clear he worries, and Oscar is so incredibly tired.

So he makes his way to the bathroom, lets Carlos help him take off his pants and his socks and his underwear before getting into the shower. Carlos has undressed too, and Oscar can’t help but look when he’s not looking. He’s seen Carlos naked a million times at this point, but it never tires.

The shower is big enough for the both of them, and Oscar breathes a sigh of relief when the hot spray hits his back, washes of the grim and hurt and pain. He hisses when it hits a particularly nasty scab, but overall the water is lovely, soothing, helped by Carlos gently soaping him in, running his big hands over Oscar’s shoulders, his chest, his arms.

“I saw,” Carlos says, breaking the silence that has fallen over them. He’s turned Oscar around, is gently rubbing soap onto his back, so Oscar can’t see the expressions on his face. “I was three cars behind you and I saw-“ Carlos breaks off then, and Oscar feels him pressing his forehead against Oscar’s neck. “I cannot do this anymore, this thing that we have.” He continues, and suddenly Oscar is glad they’re not facing each other, because he is pretty sure the look on his face is embarrassing.

“Oh,” he says, and he tries to sound unbothered, but he is so so so tired, and Carlos showed up and took care of him and he was lulling himself into a false sense of security, a false sense of something, and now the rug is being pulled right from under him. “Okay.”

“I want more, Oscar. I want all of it. And I know you can’t give that to me and that is okay, but I can no longer just be something casual with you when I have all these feelings.”

Oscar feels like the rugs been shoved right back under him again so hard it’s making him trip up over it. “Feelings?” He says. He turns around now, because he needs to see. He needs to know if this is real if this is. If Carlos means what he is saying.

Carlos is looking at him, big sincere brown eyes. “I am in love with you, Oscar,” he says. Os-kar, it’s the most beautiful thing Oscar’s ever heard. “And I cannot be with you if you do not love me back.”

Carlos goes to step away then, which is so incredibly stupidly absurd, that Oscar doesn’t even blame himself for yelling “Wait!” a little too loudly and reaching out to grab Carlos’s wrist. “You don’t get to… What is wrong with you? You get in a shower with a man and confess your love to him and then you leave?”

“Don’t you want me to?” Carlos asks, tilting his head to the side, and god. He’s so infuriating. If he was not so tired, not so beaten down, Oscar would kiss him right now. Tell him he was in love with him too. But that all feels to big and too heavy right now so all he says is, “Stay. Please stay.” And hope Carlos understands.

And Carlos does, because Carlos has always been able to understand Oscar in ways Oscar doesn’t even understand himself. So he steps back under the shower, soaps Oscar’s hair, rinses it off. Wraps him in a giant towel as they get out, bundles him into bed.

Carlos’s arms are warm and soft around him as he settles into the sheets. Me too, he thinks. Me too, I love you too. And hopes Carlos understands.

Carlos’s arms squeezes around him, very gently. Oscar falls asleep with a smile on his face.

[6fangz]

SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND

⋆ ♰.˚🦇⌗ ˎˊ˗

synopsis: sergeant williams has been on your case since the second you moved to town; the loathing is palpable, and yet something seems to draw you back together

warnings: there is a reference to being sl*pped in this (not ellie, very vague no detail) but pls read at your own risk (!), age gap (reader is 23, ellie is 28) starts kinda angry ig, some fluff, ends w smut, fingering (reader receives), this was my excuse to write southern ellie w a drawl

southern!officer!ellie x rebellious!fem!reader

MDNI 18 +

a/n: alright…hear me out on this one i swear i had a vision. it’s long and i still dk if this came together the way i wanted it to but whatever here it is anyways enjoy and i hope today was #fab ok bye

the sun peeks through your curtains, shining directly in your face as you stir awake. you run a hand over your eyes in annoyance.

the alarm clock on your nightstand lets you know it’s barely nine in the morning, which is still way too early to be conscious in your book. you bury your head back under your pillow.

but then you hear it; a bang on the front door of your beat up single wide. you don’t get up at first, because you don’t know who it could be and therefore you don’t care.

yet whoever it is remains persistent, knocking and knocking until you just can’t take it anymore.

you drag yourself out of your bed begrudgingly and shrug on a sweatshirt, tucking your feet into your beloved dino slippers out of habit.

your shoulders are heavy as you walk down the hall, so you roll them in an attempt to ease the tension. it doesn’t really work, and the pounding is bringing on a headache at this point.

“i’m fucking coming!”

you swing the door open a moment later, finding yourself face to face with none other than sergeant williams herself.

her cowboy hat is tilted low on her head, choppy hair framing her shaded face, but you can still see that she’s angry. the little line between her brows is a dead giveaway.

you smirk instinctively, hand perched on your hip as you squint at her. “ah, sarge. i’d say good morning, but it’s not.”

“nice shoes,” she grumbles in response, eyes sweeping over the rest of your disheveled state, “didn’t realize you’d be sleeping in.”

her comment actually does make you a little self conscious, enough to tug your sorry excuse for shorts down to cover yourself a bit more.

“well i was trying to, but you just woke me up, so how about we get on with whatever this is?”

ellie glares a little harder, thumb hooked in the waistband of her pants. “fine, you happen to slash noah bennett’s tires last night? cuz he’s real certain you did.”

the answer to that question is yes, but she doesn’t have anything on you. if she did, then you’d already be in her handcuffs on the way to the station.

you’re too careful for her regardless, and that makes you smile. “nope, wasn’t me. that’s hysterical, though.”

“i’m sure y’think it’s funny. got an alibi, kid?” she pushes, country drawl on full display.

you don’t shy away. “i was working the closing shift at the bar. ask literally anyone.”

also true; you were bartending last night, just like you normally are, but you had taken an extra long smoke break to visit noah’s most prized possession.

he respects that dumbass truck more than the women in his life, let alone women in general, and he deserved every bit of it after being a dickhead for so long.

you’ve never had a problem personally delivering karma, and nobody gets away with harassing a girl on shift.

at least not while you’re around.

the suspicion is written all over ellie’s face, but she’s grasping at straws and you both know it.

“i already have. but i needed to hear it straight from the accused herself.”

“aw, if you missed me you could’ve just said so.” you tease, placing a hand to your chest like you’re charmed.

she shakes her head in disbelief. “trust me when i say i cherish every moment you’re not makin’ my life more complicated.”

the thing is that you don’t trust her words, especially not when you swear she glances down at your lips as she says them. but it also makes your throat seize in a way you hate.

“great, we’re on the same page. now am i free to go or what?”

ellie has to gnaw on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying no. there’s not a logical reason to hold you up any longer, especially without any real evidence.

it was just important to follow up on every lead. right?

“yeah…suppose so. but i have a funny feelin’ i’ll be seeing you again soon.” she straightens and takes a few steps down your front porch.

“can’t wait.” you shoot back, not bothering to stick around for a response before you slam the door shut.

it satisfies you for a moment to let out some of your frustration, but the urge to scream follows you back to bed anyways.

ellie has been on your case since the moment you two met, and never once has she given you a chance.

she made up her mind about you then, that you’re just some burnout loser causing trouble in her jurisdiction. and you can’t say that description is too far off base.

but she doesn’t really know your life, and she never will. you’re not even sure that she experiences enough empathy to try.

so why does her opinion bother you so much?

you squeeze your eyes shut harder, trying to force your brain to be quiet. one of these days she’s going to drive you completely insane.

ellie remembers when you first moved to the area, over five years ago now. you were only eighteen, but already so set in your ways.

she was a few months out of academy, twenty three and very green in terms of her career. in fact, you were the first person she ever pulled over on a solo shift.

it immediately fazed her that she didn’t recognize you, considering everyone had practically known each other since birth. you were so nonchalant, so not threatened, and it made her crazy.

you just snapped your gum as she ran your plates, huffing like a brat when she ended up giving you a speeding ticket.

“seriously? i’m new to town, i didn’t even see the damn signs.”

“all five of ‘em, huh?” she spit back, though she regretted it instantly.

you looked at her with the fire of a thousand suns, and everything changed. the rivalry, the chase, began in that moment.

you slipped your sunglasses back over your face, smiling to yourself like something was funny. “make them a little bigger and maybe i’ll listen.”

ellie had hardly retreated before you sped off, turning the bend and disappearing completely before she had even gotten back to her car.

you’ve always been two steps ahead since. too smart for your own good, in her opinion.

she’d grown in the ranks remarkably fast, becoming the youngest sergeant in town history, and you still don’t take her seriously.

honestly, she doesn’t take herself seriously around you either. not any more at least. you’re a different woman now, somehow even more real and hardened by life.

maybe that’s what truly vexes ellie; she understands you, but you make it so difficult to not retaliate. every second the two of you interact it feels like her whole body is on fire.

she can barely keep herself together and it’s mortifying.

in fact, she’d initially wanted to go home tonight and enjoy a couple glasses of whiskey, forget all about you for a little while.

then she happened to drive by the abandoned strip mall and that plan went to hell.

your car sits alone in the lot, tucked away so it’s barely illuminated in the dying sun. but she’d recognize that model and color combination anywhere, and she can see you walking back to it as she swerves across the street without a second thought.

you’re in the middle of opening your driver's side door when ellie pulls up and flashes her lights briefly.

you roll your eyes on instinct. the last thing you were hoping for tonight was another lecture, but you turn to face her direction anyways.

she steps out of her vehicle and strolls over, readjusting the brim of her worn stetson. you swear she never takes that damn thing off.

“figured it’d be you.” she states plainly.

you tilt your head. “figured what would be me?”

she shoots you a look, genuinely surprised that you’re playing dumb with her about this one.

“the vandalism. noticed it a while back, but i couldn’t be sure i was right until i caught you.”

you cross your arms over your chest defensively. “first of all, it’s not vandalism, it’s art. and second of all, why would you assume it was me? i just went on a walk.”

she huffs out a soft laugh, and to your surprise she reaches her hand toward you.

you manage to stop yourself from flinching as ellie wraps her fingers around your wrist, untangling your arm gently so she can get a better look at the lingering spray paint.

it left a stains despite how hard you had scrubbed at it with wipes when you were done.

“wanna tell me the truth now?” she prompts, and you force yourself to meet her eyes.

her touch is unbelievably tender compared to her harsh exterior and rough hands, and it makes your heart wilt.

but you don’t let yourself think about it for long.

instead, you wrench out of her grasp and get right back to arguing. “fine, maybe it was me. but this building is literally ancient and i’m just making it look nicer, so what’s it to you?”

it kind of wounds her that you pulled away, but she can’t blame you either. she’d probably do the same in your position.

ellie tries not to let her damaged pride show when she finally answers.

“y’know, i actually agree with you for once.”

you don’t think she could’ve stunned you more if she tried. you’re not even sure that she’s ever said anything genuinely nice, at least not to your face.

“very funny.” you snark, because you still can’t believe it.

but she doubles down. “seriously, m’not here to take you in. nobody’s bought the mall in nearly thirty years anyways, and i really do like your paintings.”

her voice is warmer, sincere. she’s telling the truth for once.

you clasp your hands behind your back to keep yourself from fidgeting nervously. it’s unusual for her to catch you so off guard, but she’s enjoying the moment while it lasts.

there’s a flutter in your stomach that’s getting harder to ignore. you’re shoving it away with all of your willpower but it doesn’t help at all.

“oh. i, um…thanks.” you finally stutter it out.

she motions toward the building sheepishly. “show me the latest?”

your eyes widen even further; this interaction is not at all going how you expected it to. it isn’t what ellie had in mind either, but you’re both appreciating it all the same.

she really had been visiting the mall a little too frequently since she discovered your work. you’re the only person nearby with a creative bone in their body, so it was easy to figure you out.

it became a habit to check in and see if you’d added anything. every new piece was so intricate, and she loved each one for different reasons.

she didn’t intend to admit that to your face though, and she’s beginning to regret it until you pivot on your heel, adjusting your tote as you lead the way.

“alright. but this better not be a fucking trap or something.”

ellie is quick to follow suit, matching your pace as you walk. “not a trap, kid, i promise.”

“i have a name, by the way, and i’m sure as hell not a child.” you remind her briskly.

“really? must’ve forgotten.” she deadpans.

you smile slightly despite yourself, turning your head before she can catch a glimpse.

it’s nice interacting with someone equally as sardonic in nature, even if she does piss you off most of the time.

“you definitely didn’t.”

this quiets her immediately. she just shoves her hands in her pockets, twigs snapping under your feet as you trudge through the overgrown grass.

a moment later you round the corner to the back wall and color begins to light up the decaying brick.

you’re running out of room at this point, so the most recent picture is pretty close to the end near you.

a meteor in its blaze of glory, hurtling down to nowhere.

you point it out, though ellie spotted it on her own easily. “this is the one i just finished. tried out some different colors.”

“wow.” she states simply, stopping so close beside you that her shoulder brushes yours.

your brows furrow as you watch her inspect it without further comment.

“wow what?” you pry, trying not to let the edge make its way into your voice.

she pauses briefly before looking over at you. “it’s just impressive. you’ve got an actual vision, i mean you’re…you’re really somethin’.”

its your turn to be silent; you’re trying to read her face, because it suddenly feels like you’re in unfamiliar territory. there’s not a hint of animosity lingering in the air.

instead, ellie is looking at you all starry-eyed, and you feel like you’re being pulled into a current you can’t escape.

“do you mean that?” your voice is faint, almost like you’ve been subdued.

the validation is making you feel fuzzy, especially since it’s coming from the one person you thought would never say it.

she nods, and this time she’s staring at your mouth rather obviously. “meant every word.”

it’s so quiet, only the sound of the birds chirping somewhere above you, and it feels like the oxygen has been sucked out of your lungs.

ellie begins to shift, to inch even closer to you, but then your phone rings and you both jump apart so comically that the trance is broken straight away.

“shit…” you mutter, fishing around in your bag momentarily before yanking it out.

the number makes your stomach bottom out, and every pleasant emotion you just experienced evaporates from your body.

nothing nice can last for long.

ellie clears her throat and you snap to life, muting the ringer because you can’t answer it in front of her.

“sorry, i—um, i have to go.”

you don’t even bother making up an excuse; you just bolt past her, high tailing it back to your car without another word. instinct has taken over, and your body is moving on its own.

she calls after you, but you can barely hear it over the ringing in your ears. only once you’ve successfully made it behind the wheel do you check to see if ellie followed along.

you deflate a little when you realize that she hasn’t, and that she won’t.

it’s been three days. three days and three sleepless nights since ellie saw you last.

she’s been up in her head ever since you ran away, chastising herself for listening to those provocative little voices and wondering what's occupying your own mind.

it’s shameful to admit, but after twenty four hours of silence, she had a compulsion to check in.

a brief stop at the bar let her know that you weren’t working, so she’d cruised through your neighborhood to find out if you were home.

the driveway was empty, and it remained that way when she visited the second time around.

the longer you’re gone, the more uneasy ellie becomes, and you’ve been plaguing her thoughts even more than usual.

had she misread your feelings? taken it too far?

she needs to see you, to talk. and you’re nowhere to be found.

the sound of the resin balls cracking against each other nearby snaps her back into the present. she sniffs, taking a sip of her whiskey.

it’s getting late, nearly midnight now, but ellie can’t bring herself to leave the bar. listening to the chatter of others is comforting.

and though the alcohol isn’t making you reappear, it at least gets her to loosen up a bit.

another swig. this’ll be her third glass of jameson, and that needs to be the limit for now. lord knows how she runs her fucking mouth with a buzz.

she glances around again, and her eyes skip over you thoughtlessly before she does a double take seconds later.

you’re perched in one of the corner seats toward the back of the bar, nursing a beer by yourself. you look exhausted, staring down at the shitty wood below you and picking at your thumbs.

ellie has never seen you here before, since she knows you prefer to get drinks straight from your coworkers.

this is the only other place in town though, usually frequented by the old farmers because they’re allowed to smoke and play pool at the same time.

and through the haze, there you are.

her stomach twists; she’s not sure if she’s angry or hurt, but it’s an awful feeling all the same.

she’s headed your way before she can even take another breath. you’re so out of it that you don’t notice until she’s actually sat down on the stool beside you.

“where the hell have you—” she cuts herself off when you turn to fully look at her, and the air feels like it's been knocked from her lungs.

a bruise paints your right cheek, though it’s clear you attempted to cover it. your eyes are watery and unfocused. she watches the recognition wash over you slowly, and you smile.

“oh, hello there.” you state simply.

her blood is already simmering, and her fingers ache to reach out and brush your face. she barely stops herself, choosing to run them through her hair instead.

“i…you okay, kid?”

her voice is hesitant, because even though she wants to cave someone’s head in, she’s much more worried about approaching you with care.

you laugh a little, a hiccup mixing itself in at the end. “fuckin’ hate when you call me that.”

your hand is unsteady as you take another long sip of beer, and she thanks her lucky stars that you’re almost done with it. that’ll make it easier to get you out of here.

“you’re right, m’sorry. hell, you’re sittin’ at the bar and i’m still using that dumb nickname.” she says, scratching her chin awkwardly.

“whatever. been dubbed worse.” you shrug and let your gaze fall back to your knuckles.

ellie clears her throat, nudging her boot against your foot. “how about i take ya home, huh?”

“i’m not that fucked up, and for all i know you could be just as drunk.” you immediately get smart with her, but even you hear the way your words slur just slightly in the wrong places.

she shakes her head but keeps her tone even. “i know my limit, and i don’t go past it. how did you get here?”

“i rode my bike. i’ll be fine, don’t even worry about me.”

but she is worried, and you can tell by the way she rests her arm on the back of your chair that she’s not leaving your side.

three minutes ago you could’ve sworn that all you wanted was to be alone, but it’s actually reassuring to run into her.

“it’s dark and completely unsafe. you’re comin’ with me in the truck, and that’s that.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t put up much of a fight. you’re tired enough as it is, and your house is over two miles away.

plus ellie smells so delicious, leathery and woodsy even through the smoke, and suddenly you don’t mind letting her assist.

“fine. but i get to pick the music.” you bargain, taking the final swig of your bottle out of spite before standing up.

she chuckles lowly, stretching out as she waits for you to grab your bag. “radio doesn’t work, but i got some CDs you can choose from.”

“you’re the youngest old person i’ve ever met.”

“i can live with that.”

you follow her out of the bar, focusing on not tripping over your own feet while the breeze rifles through your hair.

ellie approaches the curb where your bike is perched and picks it up easily, carting it over to her old 93’ ford so she can lift it into the back.

you find yourself noticing the way her crewneck rides up to expose her stomach, plaid boxers peeking out from her baggy jeans. they sit low on her waist, low enough that you can see the shadow of her v line.

it makes your mouth dry, and dirty thoughts run through your mind without warning.

she comes around to the passenger side to swing the door open for you. you don’t interject when she goes a step further and helps hoist you up into the seat.

instead, you opt to enjoy her sturdy grip on your elbow.

the worn cloth interior is comforting, and even the car has taken on her scent at this point.

you’re already digging through the glove box by the time she’d made it around the hood and hopped up beside you.

“ellie’s magic mix?” you read off the title of one of the discs, and she can see the humorous glint in your eye.

“hey, be nice. it’s the first one i ever burned.” she explains.

you slide it into the player as she puts the car in reverse, and a few seconds later a brassy voice begins to hum through the speakers.

it’s familiar, which surprises you.

“charley pride?” you ask as ellie peels onto the road, and she looks over at you in wonder.

“and just how’d you know that?”

you shrug, grinning at her all loopy. “i like old records. the happiness of having you is one of my favorites.”

“well color me impressed.” she jokes.

a silence settles as you both listen contently, passing by the rolling hills that are shrouded in darkness. the car rumbles along against the uneven pavement, the only other noise aside from the song.

ellie shamelessly peers over as you stare out your window, chin resting against your arm while you contemplate something she can’t understand.

she doesn’t want to disturb, but she’s been waiting for a decent time to ask. it’ll never feel good, though, so she settles for right now.

“who gave you that shiner?”

you audibly suck in a breath, because you were dreading this inevitable conversation. “is it really important? i’m fine, and it won't happen again.”

“of course it’s important. someone hurt you, and i…i wasn’t there. but i can help, if you let me.” she’s practically begging you to trust her, and it’s obvious in her voice.

but you refuse. you fight against yourself yet again, like you’ve been conditioned into it.

“why would you have been there? i was at home. or my hometown, whatever. either way, it’s not your job to protect me.”

ellie’s eyebrows furrow in exasperation. “why d’you have to be so damn stubborn? can’t you just let someone care?”

“oh, and that someone is you? c’mon, don’t pretend like you suddenly give a fuck about me. you just want the thrill of acting like a savior.” you snap coldly.

the insult pierces through her like a shard of glass. her jaw ticks, fingers tightening against the steering wheel.

she can feel the angry truth welling in her throat. normally she’d choke it all back down, force herself to keep everything routine between the two of you.

but the flood gates are open, and you’ve pushed her beyond her limit this time.

“is that what you think? that i’ve never lost sleep over you, or gotten worked up over you? i was about to put out an APB when i realized you’d skipped town, and you’ve got the nerve to suggest that you don’t matter to me? i mean, fuck, all i can do when you’re not around is wonder where you are.”

this revelation makes you sit upright again, dumbfounded by the things coming out of her mouth.

so much is racing through your head at once, yet you remain eerily quiet. when ellie gains the confidence to glance over, she realizes you’re studying her face like you’re enraptured.

“stop lookin’ at me like and say something.” she grunts and turns her attention back to driving.

but a telling blush creeps up her neck, which you’re rarely lucky enough to see.

she doesn’t usually break a sweat like this, and you feel like you owe her the same candor in return.

even if it’s hard.

“that call that i got when we were together was from the hospital. it was my mom.”

you pause, taking a moment before throwing yourself forward. “so i visited, tried to get her on track again, but she didn’t want my help. she never has. and then things got heated. you can put the rest together.”

ellie can connect the dots, even though she hates what it leads her to.

you’ve always been self sufficient, but you also kept it a mystery as to why you’d moved or why you were all on your own in the first place.

she never pushed, mainly because you wouldn’t let her, but she can appreciate why you have the boundaries that you do.

instead of saying anything, she places a warm hand on your leg. not high enough on your thigh to be suggestive, but not low enough on your knee to be overtly friendly.

it’s not what you expected, but it’s what you were lacking all along; something to ground you, a reminder that she’s still beside you.

“i’m not going back again, y’know? seriously. i’ll be alright.” you reassure her solemnly, like it’s a pact now that you’re voicing it.

ellie nods, thumb brushing against your jeans naturally.

“i know you will. it’s who you are. but i’m sorry that you’ve been goin’ through this alone.”

her subtle movements send tingles of electricity through you, and your body is a little too excited by it.

“it’s mostly my choice anyways. i don’t let people get that far because i want to be alone. or, uh, i used to.” you fumble over it gracelessly.

you’ve never been very good at conveying your feelings when they’re positive, and with ellie it’s even weirder.

it’s easy to read between the lines, but she also wants you to say it. “and now you don’t?”

“no. not anymore.”

her cheeks grow even more red as she turns down your street, rocking slightly as you hit the numerous little potholes.

she slides her palm higher up your leg, whether it’s conscious or not. “interesting.”

your stomach flips in response, and when her eyes run over you again, they’re visibly darker than before.

there is something on your mind plays softly in the background, which is ironic because she’s overwhelming every single one of your senses. it’s been a while since you’ve felt like this, completely engulfed in another person.

maybe you had been mistaking passion for hatred this whole time.

a moment later you come to a screeching halt, and ellie moves her hand to throw the truck into park. it’s quiet; everyone’s lights are off, a sleepy fog crawling through the town.

“well, uh…” she attempts to start a sentence, a goodbye maybe, but there’s nothing coming to mind.

you’re so restless that your body decides to speak for the both of you; you unbuckle your seat belt, inching closer instead of heading for the door.

you grip her right shoulder gently, stabilizing yourself as you throw your leg across her lap to straddle her. a groan slips through her teeth when you readjust yourself on her hips.

you hold her neck, tracing her jawline slowly while she stares up at you.

“you sure you know what you’re doin?” ellie asks, restricting herself to grasping your thighs for now.

you nod, leaning in just enough to leave her aching for more. “i think i can handle it, sarge.”

the sweetness of your shampoo is intoxicating, and all it would take is a tiny move forward for her lips to close in on yours.

maybe it’s the longing on your face, or the way your hair is framing your cheeks, but the boundary of professionalism has completely blurred by now.

how can it be wrong when it feels this right?

so instead of arguing or being sarcastic, she closes the distance and kisses you. it’s soft, almost surprised at first. then she gets a taste of your minty chapstick and it’s hard not to devour you.

you pull her in even closer, tongues and teeth clashing together, and in the heat of the moment she barely notices you biting at her bottom lip.

it only electrifies her more when she does feel it, so much so that goosebumps crawl across her skin.

her palms travel to grope your tits needily and you let out a sigh that gets lost somewhere in the midst of your make out.

ellie had nearly snapped earlier seeing your cleavage on display in the little tank you had on under your jacket. she didn’t think she’d get to do anything about those indecent ideas, though.

“fuck, i’ve been waiting for this.” she breathes against your mouth, effectively working her way to your neck right after.

a moan finally escapes, a sound so goddamn divine she almost forgets how to function.

but she keeps peppering sloppy kisses down past your collarbone, determined to elicit that noise from you again.

“so you’ve always been hot for me, then?” you goad, though it’s hard to banter when you’re being so pleasantly distracted.

“i’d still call it a recent development.” ellie pauses to joke back.

but even after saying that, she’s dying to worship more of you, so she diverts her attention again to slip the straps of your top down.

her knuckles stroke your skin as she goes, and she’s got your bra unhooked in one suave maneuver.

you raise your eyebrows at her as she helps you out of it. “cute trick.”

she just smirks as she tosses the garment to the passenger side. you’re still decently concealed by the worn zip-up resting on your shoulders, but your cami is pulled down to your stomach to reveal your chest.

the sight of you alone makes ellie throb, pupils the size of saucers by now.

“i can do a lot more than that, sweetheart.” she promises, cupping your now exposed breasts so that she can drag the pads of her thumbs across your nipples.

you shiver at the sensation, pushing your torso into her harder without even realizing.

“show me, cowboy.” you whisper, and she can’t help but reclaim your lips before you even finish.

she continues grazing over your sensitive buds, which makes you whimper a little louder into her kiss.

it’s completely illogical to be doing this out in the open, but the homes are spaced out enough and her brain is too immersed in you to care about consequences.

you grind into her a little in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building in your gut, though that’s not what you really want.

ellie knows it too, so she breaks away enough to speak. “something i can do for you?”

“just wondering what those fingers would feel like inside me.” you hum, and her hands drop to your waist without hesitation.

she wanted you to be in charge of how far this went, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want show you real pleasure.

and now she’s got the green light.

“filthy girl…can’t even make it into the house.”

there’s admiration in her tone as she frees the metal button to unzip your jeans, tugging them down your hips just enough to access you easier.

“it’s way more fun to live life on the edge.” you preach sarcastically, which she takes as more of a challenge than she should.

her hand dips into your pants and she skims across your clothed heat, enticingly slow to start.

your breath hitches in your throat and she feels your fist shift to grip her hair.

“then i sure hope you can be quiet for once.” ellie tests you right back, applying a bit more pressure as she traces the soft cotton.

you bite down on the inside of your cheek to try and hide your reaction, though every fiber of your body is ablaze.

it doesn’t help that she shifts down in the seat slightly, bringing herself more even with your breasts. she steadies your waist with her free hand as her mouth trails across the supple flesh, nipping at you every once in a while.

your panties are already damp, which rouses her so much that she decides not to boast. instead she pushes them to the side, letting her fingers run along your slick pussy.

the both of you groan, you into the open and her against your skin. she likes that you’re already clinging to her harder.

it makes her feel like you need her just as much.

ellie keeps the pace even but presses her tongue flat against your nipple, taking her time flicking back and forth. you squirm a bit, overwhelmed by the dual stimulation in the best way.

“a—aah…shit.” you whimper, rubbing yourself against her movements rhythmically.

she grins, lazily trailing her tongue across your skin, silently vowing that she won’t neglect an inch. “y’sound pretty when you’re not being a brat.”

“i’m not a—oh, holy fuck.”

without warning, ellie curls her middle finger and lets it slip inside of you, effectively cutting off your defense.

she slides it in and out a few times, giving you half a second to adjust before she adds another. you let out another lament, stunned even though it’s exactly what you want.

you clench around her and she swears under her breath. “so wet, so warm. you little minx.”

the praises go straight to your head, and you’re thirsting for her at this point.

she’s taking it slow, licking and sucking at your chest and neck while you move with the stroke of her arm. heat is building in your stomach, and you’re aching to spur the fire.

“faster ellie, please.” you beg, too far gone to worry about trivial things like dignity.

hearing you say her name while you plead is exhilarating, and all she wants to do is gratify your desires.

so she does just that, speeding up her fingers but ensuring that she buries them fully each time to hit all the right spots. and boy does she.

you tilt your head back slightly, giving her a better angle as you moan a little louder. it’s a sight to behold; your eyes screwed shut, tits bouncing in her face while she goes to work.

“please? didn’t realize i could’a just fucked some manners into you all this time.” ellie teases against your skin, and you give her a faint tug at her roots.

“shut up, i’m totally polite.” you bite back.

the way you’re sinking your hips down to fill yourself with her says otherwise, but it’s also ridiculously hot, so she doesn’t argue.

instead, she hums in agreement. “mhmm, such a lady, takin’ it so well.”

her compliments are leaving you absolutely spellbound, as much as you hate to admit it.

they’re dirty, and yet they sound so heavenly when she says them regardless.

your muscles are beginning to tighten from the pleasure, and ellie can feel it. but she knows she can get you there faster, make it even more intense.

so she continues pounding into you relentlessly, adding her thumb to the mix so that it brushes your clit.

your thighs twitch around her, and an involuntary cry leaves your throat.

“fuck, jesus christ!”

she smiles, completely ignoring the way her boxers are rumpled and sticky at this point. she’s not worried about herself; all she wants is for you to keep making those sweet little noises.

“feels good, huh, angel?” she asks, curving her fingers perfectly inside your cunt.

you nod, muttering something that’s not even coherent. your whole body is ablaze now; no part of your skin feels untouched by her goddamn magic.

ellie can’t believe she’s got you melting in her arms, exposed for anyone to walk up and see, but she loves it.

“right…there.” you gasp, clutching her hair and shoulder for dear life at this point.

she circles your swollen bundle of nerves harder while continuing to hit that sweet spot, and your legs feel like jelly.

you’re tensing around her hand with every stroke, all while she draws your skin between her teeth to leave hickies across the swell of your breasts.

huffs and groans fill the air, and it’s hard to tell where you begin and she ends. ellie doesn’t think she’s ever been this entranced by anyone, at least not in a very long time.

you’re goddamn beautiful, completely wild in this moment, and she adores it.

“i’m—mmm, gonna cum.” you whine, trying and failing to keep the desperate from your tone.

she doesn’t want it to end, but she hangs on to the hope that this is just the beginning and puts the rest of her energy into your satisfaction.

“give me everythin’, baby. let the whole fuckin town hear how dirty we are.”

she’s adjusts her grip to help rock you into her fingers, somehow filling you even more perfectly in the process.

your toes curl in your shoes right before your high crashes around you, mouth agape as you chant her name. your eyes squeeze shut while you finish, shaking lightly from the sheer force of it.

ellie keeps you steady while she gradually slows her tempo, simultaneously shimmying back up in the seat a bit so that she can watch you ride it out until the end.

the feeling of you cumming around her is something she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to forget, and the expression on your face is a close second.

finally, she stills completely, waiting until you’re able to look at her before she retracts her fingers.

they glisten in the nearby streetlights, slick from your orgasm, and your gaze glitters back as you watch her take them into her mouth.

you can see her tongue working, and she groans when she pulls them out fully clean a beat later, chest still heaving from all the activity.

“god, y’taste like heaven too.”

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, peeking through them as you shake your head slightly. “stop saying shit like that.”

ellie chuckles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear for you. “why, cuz it turns you on?”

“no, because you sound like a dork.” you lie, though the mess in your pants says otherwise.

ellie smacks your ass lightly in response. your arms fly down to wrap around her neck again as you let out a squeak of surprise.

“always gotta be a rebel, don’t ya?” she says, smoothing her palm over the place where it had previously landed.

there’s a smile plastered across her face though, probably similar to the fucked out one you’re wearing yourself.

you tangle your fingers in her hair, forcing her attention back to you. “well, someone has to make you do your job.”

“please, i know you’re soft for me under all that armor.”

you narrow your eyes playfully before pressing your forehead against hers. “i’ll deny it in public.”

ellie chuckles, and you feel her breath fan across your face. “we can work on that. how ‘bout we go inside and getcha cleaned up for now?”

“is this an excuse to see me fully naked?” you question as she slips the straps of your tank back over your shoulders gently.

“oh, are we still pretending that you don’t want me just as much?”

you place a chaste kiss to her lips. “yeah, yeah. touché.”

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader

stepmom selina anyone?? anyone interested in some stepmom selina?? (me, i am)

i feel like selina would be such a girl mom but also i have this image of damian’s twin being like his opposite. sooo i think the dynamic between her and selina would be fun cause it’s like black sheep & white sheep.

selina would try and teach her the art of stealth and reader would teach her the art of idk friendship?? no but fr i feel like reader and selina would be such a fun duo. bruce’s girls tbh like they team up and they’re unstoppable. also can you imagine the boy advice selina would give? “yeah just steal one of his prized possessions and he’ll come after you. works every time 😏” like okay thanks queen! in terms of like yandere behavior, i feel like she’s one to plant the little seeds of doubt in reader’s mind about others. like “aw sweetie it’s okay, you’re way too good for them! you never do anything wrong 🥹.” meanwhile the person in question is filing for bankruptcy cause their valuables are gone.

barbara is so ‘cool older sister’ coded it’s actually insane. she’s incredibly smart and good with tech, plus she’s really pretty and cool as hell??? reader is like “hiii hello hiii ” and she INSTANTLY becomes her newest role model.

her like ‘yandereness’ would probably be similar to tim’s but instead of trying to keep reader home, she more so just watches her. like if reader wants to go to a party and it’s on a bad corner of town, barbs will give her directions to go to avoid the most trouble. probably the least likely to kill someone tbh i just can’t see her doing it.

reader and cassandra they were both raised by assassins so they probably bond over that and then how life is after leaving. it’s canon that cass can speak (which we’ve seen her do) but she uses body language instead of words. with this, i like to think that she can teach reader how to read people easier. you know, as a little bonding activity! also damian is canonically good with music (the violin specifically i believe), so reader is likely the same. so now just imagine reader playing an instrument while cass dances 🙏.

cass’s type of yandere is mostly just watching from the shadows. like reader brings a boyfriend home and cass is in the corner standing like mothman. if anyone does reader wrong TRUST cass will be kicking the hell out of them 🙏🙏.

stephanie, like duke, is the closest to the normal sibling experience one can get 😭 but tbh i see her as being more as a best friend that’s a ‘sister figure.’ plus i like stephcass so screw you that’s canon now. having improvised fashion shows at 4am, gossiping about everything and everyone (which she then tells cass but shhhh), having self care days like that’s her bff! with steph i feel like she’s not the type to actually attack anyone directly, but instead just telling cass and/or tim about whatever (or whoever) it is reader is having problems with. now if they’re patrolling together and reader gets attacked? yeah she’ll beat the other person up! (or at least get a couple hits in if reader already took care of it)

now that the fam is written for, please please please send any requests y’all wanna see! romantic (outside the batfam ONLY!!! no sweet home alabama here) or platonic, feel free to send an ask or leave a comment!

heyyyy… heyyyy…. how yall doing….? 😔😔 sorry for disappearing buuuut thanks so much for sticking around! sorry if this part doesn’t quite live up to the other two but somehow the girls are harder to write for?? i hope i got them but honestly any criticism would be appreciated. also i kinda skimped over the yandere part for helena so sorry abt that😭. might go back in and change it but who knows.

also i’ve been fixated on conner kent for some reason???? that’s my pookie guys yall dont get it.

anyways love love LOVE yall so much bye byeeee ❤️

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

Hi! I'm new to your account, but just binged your "I bet on losing dogs" storyline, and I had a question and concept for you? How much is the reader free to interpret? I'm a theater kid, so I like her hobbies. But is there any specific physical traits you're writing for her? I know you mentioned that we were/are chubby, which is cool, but do you imagine any certain features? Because I'm Mexican American with certain features, so I was curious if you had a certain ethnicity set for her besides being half White/Jewish from Bruce being her biological father.

I also had the same question about Tiffany, because I'm currently imagining the Stereotypical All American girl. Kinda got that Disney Channel actress vibe to her. (Physically). I also had this really messed up though of the reader having to spend YEARS trying to keep in touch her mother's culture and such, learning dishes, traditions, going to local festivals by herself, having to learn how to do makeup and hair styles/products that fit her face and hair pattern. No one bothered to help or teach her. But than, suddenly Tiffany starts to steal those "habits", uncaring if they were very personal to the reader. Than everyone in the family suddenly starts to like the Reader's culture and such. (I had this scene in my brain where the Reader walks in on Tiffany is bragging about some music or dish "she" tried out from the Reader's culture, while the family are all happy and curious about it. Even when the Reader tried to introduce it to the family, everyone declined even trying it.)

I see the Reader so "Your Best American Girl" coded by Mitski.

Anyway I just wanted to ramble, bye!

ok so, I'm trying to be as vague as possible bc reader is supposed to be whoever is reading so there's no in depth description or specific height or build (except chubby in the prologue). i feel like i've basically made reader an OC which i hate but personally when I'm reading a fic, I just ignore things if I don't like them or they don't apply to me which is what i suggest yall do!!

the reader's mother is Palestinian/ Venezualan, like my own mom but you can change it if you'd like. it's important to mention that reader does have Bruce's jaw structure and face shape and shares facial features with Damian as well. It's small things like the ears, the roman nose, even the eye shape, point is that every time reader looks in the mirror she can see shadows of Bruce and Damian on her face. it's kinda like the vibe of "like him" by tyler the creator. I'm middle eastern and hispanic so I imagine reader with darker feautures like tan skin, thick brown hair, arched brows and long lashes but it's all up to you!

reader is very confused because while her dad is white, she isn't. she did try to bond with Damian and learn Arabic with him but he shamed her for not knowing and kicked her out his room, literally. she used to be embarrassed of her heritage when she was younger (courtsey of Tiffany calling her a mutt) but as she got older she realized how interesting her culture is.

she wants to learn arabic but has no teachers and it's a pretty hard language to learn if you don't grow up speaking it .she has no sources to help her and most of the time culture and traditions are things you grow up with and are passed down to you from family. her mom used to speak to her in arabic and feed her dates and sandwiches with olive oil and sugar and make her fried plantians so those things are very special to her, they're some of the only details she remembers about her late mother. so yeah reader is very "Your best american girl coded"

You're so on point about Tiffany, she's your classic all American girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long tanned legs and a set of pearly whites. she's the kind of white girl to act like she cares about other races but is secretly racist. you know what girls im talking about! and that prompt you sent with the food eats so hard, I have a scene mapped out with that in the upcoming chapters. I rambled too girl!!! you really got me thinking tbh but let me stop and actually write the next chapter.

[aphiewrites]

Pairing: season 1!Viktor x gender neutral!reader

Warnings: literally just fluff, being asked out lmao, first time writing, no mentions of y/n, not proofread,

Word count: idk

a/n: y’all i used to write fanfics, but i haven’t in sOOOOOO long. I literally apologize, on my knees, begging, if like this is bad. i wanted to pick up writing again bc arcane has just inspired me especially viktor if u know what i mean. ahaha. pls dont criticize me so harshly i will cry and stop writing but advise is appreciated. also grammar might be bad, its like a weakness for me cus english is my second language. anyways bye love u whoever reads this.

The clacking of your shoes echoes through the academy halls. The lights in the hallway barely emit a soft light in these dark hours. A guard stands at the end of the hallway, quietly dozing off and then catching himself awake when his head nods. He finally notices you with a box in your hands, a box filled with trinkets such as gears, screws, and jagged handmade parts of machinery. He nods at you, passing him with a quick smile as you make a left to looming doors of the laboratory.

You quietly open the door, using your elbow to turn the long door handle. You push the door open with your foot and smoothly slide in. You nudge the door close with your foot aback and adjust your hold with the wooden box as to not drop anything. The laboratory is glowing a blue hue from the hexcore being mended on. There in the middle of the lab, you notice Viktor. Slouched and focused on the magical machinery, his arms twisting and turning to control the robotic arms that interacts with the hexcore. His hair is ruffled from the goggles that is on his face and from the frustration that he runs through his hair with his hands.

You slowly make your way over to his position, cautious of the laboratory environment as to not cause an incident. “Viktor, I brought your order of supplies,” you speak softly.

Viktor jolts from his focus and immediately lets go of the controls. He pulls back the goggles and turns to you, “ah! You can set that down anywhere. I hope you didn’t find much trouble getting those,” he speaks kindly, his accent smooth and alluring.

You set the box down on the table in the middle of the laboratory and you pause for a moment. You can’t help but smile at him, his face has marks from the goggles resting too long on his face, and his hair is just a giant jumbled mess. You walk over to him, reaching out to the top of his head to readjust the goggles and to fix the folded parts of hair.

Viktor gives you a flustered look but doesn’t say much of it and lets you adjust his look.

“I managed to haggle the price for most of the parts,” you gleefully share to him.

“That is good,” he says, continuing to watch you closely as you clean up a few more pieces.

You retreat back and put your hands behind, “I did have trouble finding one part, I had to check three different shops before I found one that had it available.”

“I could’ve done it myself, but thank you for going through that trouble for me,” he says with a gentle smile.

You chuckle, “I’m happy to help around, Viktor. It keeps me busy instead of waiting around in an office to stamp papers.” Viktor and you share a light laugh. “Oh, before I forget…” You dip your hands into the pocket of your coat and place down the change you obtained from haggling beside him on the desk. “I would’ve dropped it off earlier, but I got caught up on the stamping and I’d figured you’d still be here,” you ramble.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. You didn’t notice how loud the hexcore hums until this silence. The silence is edging the line of awkward and comfortable silence until you cut in quick.

“So… Are you planning on clocking out soon?” Your eyes shift to the side as you question.

“There is still much work to do.” His head lowers, eyes looking down on his hands that are nervously soothing each finger.

“I don’t want to sound like Jayce right now, but I think you should take a break and come back to this in the morning.”

He sighs, “I am well aware,” he runs his hand through the back of his head, his other arm leaning on his knee, and his leg is now bouncing.

“Come on, you will have more space in that brain of yours to think once you’ve rested,” you outreach a hand.

“Fatigue is not the issue, it is you taking up more space in my head.”

You freeze in your place, dumbfounded. You aren’t sure if you heard that right, but you aren’t sure if he means it in the way you think. Does he despise your presence? Does he want you to leave so he can work more? Or does he find some sort of affection towards you?

He finally looks up at you to analyze your reaction, arms resting at his knees.

He must’ve realized your confusion on your face but he speaks up again, “Will you have dinner with me?”

You, never in a million years, would expect Viktor to make such a bold move on you. Your face is burning and heart is beating like a large drum inside of you.

“Um… Isn’t it a little late for dinner, Vik?” You awkwardly state. “Besides… I should probably sleep soon… and you too…”

Yours and Viktor’s face turn to shock from what you just said. You immediately curse yourself in the inside, it sounded more like a way to kindly reject him, but you swear to yourself it was out of concern for the man to rest as well instead of ruining his sleep schedule more.

Viktor straightens himself in the chair, trying to compose himself, “ah, yes. I’m sorry to bother you with nonsense—“

“No! no, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to come off as a rejection.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Is it not?”

“No! I would love to have dinner with you! I was just saying you should rest, you’ve been working all day.” Did it get even more hot in this room? You think. Your face is burning even more than before and it feels like a sweat is about to drop from your forehead.

Viktor picks up his cane from the side of the desk and stands up.

Oh god. He’s coming over.

He stands right in front of you, looming. Bodies close, not touching, but you swear you can feel the warmth radiate off of him. The scent of his cologne fills your nose due to the close proximity. You can see the overconfidence that has kicked into him and you wish you could melt right at this second. He just stares at you for a while without saying anything. A smile creeping up on his face and it almost scares you because what else is going to come out from that mouth that’s going to send you into a frenzy?

“Well, perhaps I will rest tonight to keep your brain from worrying, and maybe a date tomorrow?” He slyly asks.

You blink a few times before gaining the composure to respond, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay cooped up in this lab tomorrow?” You snarkily remark.

“Jayce will do the work.” He grins.

“A date it is then,” you smile back.

“I’m glad,” he brushes off a piece of dust from your cheek then backs up. “I will head out now then, goodnight.” He says as he slowly walks towards the door.

“Wait a minute, have you eaten at all tonight?” You turn to him.

He stops halfway to the door, awkwardly as if he was caught stealing something, “No, but I was going to head to a little shop to pickup a meal,” he gives an innocent honest, almost goofy, smile.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Let’s go together then,” you catch up to him and follow him through the door.

———

“So, if we’re eating dinner right now, does that mean there will be no date tomorrow?” Viktor asks, half a sandwich in hand.

“Dinner, we rest, then date, okay?” You smirk.

He grins, “Okay, good.”

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Poems

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: dean searches your room when you’re missing, and the love letters he finds break his heart

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.9k (1.5k excluding poems) 

warnings: reader goes/is missing, language, 

author’s note: please don’t make fun of my “poetry”, i know it’s not good that’s why i don't write poems lol

“Hey Dean, I’m working a case near Wichita so I’ll probably be back home by the end of the week. See you soon, bye.”

“That’s the last I heard from her,” Dean told his brother after playing him the message you left. “It’s been over a week, I’m gettin’ worried here!”

“Do you know what kinda case she was working?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head. “Okay, well I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Let’s call the hospitals around where she is and ask if she’s there.”

“You do that, I’m gonna head to Wichita,” Dean replied.

“I think we should call the hospitals first, Dean. She said she was near Wichita, she could be anywhere from here to there!”

Dean sighed but agreed with Sam’s plan.

**

The boys had no luck with any of the hospitals so they decided to head over to Wichita and look for you. They searched for a few days before heading back to the bunker, hoping you might be there waiting for them. You weren’t, of course, and that only made their worry grow.

You’d been missing for nearly two weeks!  

Dean thought there might be some kind of clue in your room and decided that searching it was next on his to-do list. Though he knew he was grasping at straws, he did it anyway.

Opening the door to your room, he smiled at the poster near your bed. It was the one he’d gotten you for Christmas last year. It was a kind of gag gift—it was his favorite band. (His real gift had been much more thoughtful.)

He began his search at your desk, digging through the mess of papers splayed out on the wood surface. His brows furrowed when he found one paper in particular. It looked like… a love poem?

The way your hair looks in the morning

The way your laugh adds life to moments boring

The way your breath hits my neck when you’re standing just behind me

Reaching over to grab something off the table

A lore book, of all things to be

And the way your eyes light up when you look into mine

I swear I almost see a hint of love

Behind those piercing starlights

Your lips on mine is what I need

Did you hear me? 

I said kiss me, you fool!

We’ve not got much time

In this line of life 

And I need you at my side.

Dean didn’t know if the poem would be considered “good” in the public eye, but he knew it made his heart clench. You were in love? But… with whom?

To him, the words were beautiful, and the thought that you wrote them about someone else broke his fucking heart. He knew there were no clues to your whereabouts in the next poem, but of course, he read it anyway.

I think of you when I drive and spot a classic car

I think of you when I eat a cheeseburger 

And I’ll turn it upside down when I’m missing you

I think of you when I hear a Zepplin song

And I turn the music up when I’m not with you

I think of you when I see anyone wear flannel

Or a leather jacket that’s clearly a size or two too big

And I love to think of you

It just makes sense to me

I love to picture you beside me

At night when I can’t sleep

Or when I get scared of what I’m facing

I think of what you would do

Day or night

Night, day, or noon 

I always think of you

Whoever this mystery person was, they were fucking lucky. Dean had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He always thought you two had a “will they won’t they” side to your relationship but at that moment he realized it was completely one-sided. The fun, flirty side to all your late-night conversations had just been friendly. Two friends playfully talking as if they both wanted to be more.

Of course Dean wanted to be more. Of course he knew he wanted to be with you. But now? Now he knew he’d either missed his chance or he simply never had one.

You were in love with someone that wasn’t him. And the love you’d been writing about wasn’t the kind someone gets over. It’s the kind that sticks—for life. The kind that people write songs about, the kind that people fight wars over, and the kind that makes people go crazy in the best way. 

He knew he’d found that love when he first fell for you, but it turned out you had found that love in someone else.

“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into your room.

“Uhm,” Dean cleared his throat, hoping his eyes didn’t look as cloudy as they felt. “No, nothing important. Just some love letters or something.” 

Sam furrowed his brows and picked up one of the poems off the desk, one that Dean had not read yet. As the taller Winchester read what you wrote his eyes grew wide, practically popping out of his head as his mouth fell open.

“Oh my fucking god!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n’s in love with you?” He looked at his older brother in shock.

“Me? No, these poems are about whoever she’s been seeing recently, they aren’t about me. We’re just friends.”

“You haven’t read this one yet, have you?” Sam asked with a small smile before handing it over.

You asked me today; “what’s your favorite color?”

And I just shrugged; “I don’t know, blue?”

Cause how could I have said the truth?

The color I love most in the world

The color that brings me nothing but joy

In this sad, awful little life

Is the green and hazel of your eyes

The emerald diamonds that shine

When you look into the sun

The soft hazel that looks over at me

When we’re reading in the library

How can I tell you all of this 

When the question is so simple and plain

How do I go into such specific detail

About the color I’m in love with

Without freaking you out

Or scaring you away

Or making you laugh at me

Because I know your favorite color 

And I know it’s not the color of my eyes

“You…You think this is really about me?” Dean asked his little brother, hoping Sam was right.

“Dean in all my life I have never seen anyone but you eat a burger bun-side-down,” Sam chuckled a little having read one of the poems Dean had read earlier.

“Oh my god.” Dean furrowed his brows, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “We’ve gotta find her, Sammy, I gotta tell her!”

“Tell her that you went through her stuff while she was gone? Don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“No! Tell her I’m in love with her! Tell her that the color of her eyes is my favorite fucking color too! And every time her favorite band comes on the radio I turn it up, and every time I see a woman wearing her type of clothes I think about her. Tell her that all I do every waking moment of every day is wish I was with her, wish I was holding her in my arms so I could never let go.”

“I think you just told her.” Sam smiled, nodding to where you now stood at your door. Dean turned around quickly. Tears of joy stung your eyes as you looked at him and smiled.

“You love me?” you asked.

“More than anything,” Dean admitted as he hurried to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple quickly before he tucked your head under his chin. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, it’s a long story,” you mumbled. “When vampires ban together with twisted humans, they’re a lot harder to kill.”

“We were really worried about you,” Dean admitted. “Like…fucking terrified.”

“Is that why you decided to dig through my personal shit?” you asked. You were one hundred percent kidding, but Dean was still nervous.

“Yeah…sorry,” Sam cringe-clenched his teeth, “it was my fault.”

You and Dean pulled back from the hug, but you took his hand in yours as you narrowed your gaze at the younger hunter.

“I know your tell, Sammy,” you said. “But it’s sweet that you’re trying to cover for Dean.” 

“Yep, all Dean’s fault,” Sam admitted before heading for the door, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I swear,” Dean told you quickly. “I was looking for something that might tell me where the hell you were.”

“How many did you read?” you asked.

“Three,” Dean sighed, still thinking you were pissed at him.

“So…you know, then? That I’m hopelessly in love with you? And you think I’d be mad at you for looking through my stuff?”

“I mean, I know you value your privacy.”

“Dean,” you started, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look down at you, “would you please just fuckin’ kiss me already?”

He seemed almost surprised by your question but he quickly smiled as he bent down and kissed you. His one hand stayed clasped in yours while his other went to your waist and then trailed to your lower back. The hand you had on his cheek went to the upper back of his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. The smiles on both of your faces only grew before you both pulled away.

“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dean mumbled before he let out a short, breathy laugh.

“Me too,” you replied. 

**

You’d been back home for a few days now and you had explained the whole missing situation to the brothers. You told them how the simple vampire hunt turned sour quickly when you realized the small-town’s sheriff was in on it and helped the vamps with making humans just disappear. They’d made you as a hunter instantly and held you hostage for a few days before you killed your way out. 

Dean never left your side so when he saw a new poem on your desk his brows furrowed. Curiosity got the better of him as he sat down to read it.

My god aren't I lucky

Now that you're holding me at night

And that first time we kissed in the doorway

I could’ve sworn I was kissing pure sunshine 

When your lips hit mine it was better

Then I could’ve ever imagined

And the love poems I've written became

Manifested words of affirmation

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered

And the blood rushed to my head

Think I could stay like this forever

Won't overthink it, I’ll just go and kiss you instead

“Well, well, well.” You came up behind him, and put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them down and clasped them together over his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Look who’s digging through my shit again.” You smiled against his skin. He turned his head and placed a deep kiss on your lips.

“I’m not even sorry this time, because I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”

“I love you,” you said and kissed him again.

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mumbled back.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Jessica didn't threaten Gwen - y'all are just mean.

I don't know how to tell y'all this but Jessica did not threaten Gwen. Ever.

She said 'If Miguel finds out I let you come-'

As in 'if Miguel finds out (on his own) that I let you come (here) (it won't look good for either of us)'

And then GWEN reacts as if Jessica threatened to rat her out, even if Jess never did that.

Her saying 'finds out' instead of 'if I tell him' implies that Jess never planned on ratting to Miguel. She was afraid he'd find out some other way - which he did.

Like, yes - Jessica is exasperated here. But not because Gwen saw Miles, she's pissed because The Spot has now escaped.

But she never threatened to rat Gwen out, she never tipped of Miguel about anything. Miguel only found out once the hole opened in Mumbattan.

Even at the end of ATSV, Jessica doesn't rat Gwen out - when she sees Gwen using Hobies portals.

Jessica is the only one that sees Gwen leaving on the rooftop. And because Hobie's portals look different, she knows it's someone close to him. But Hobie doesn't know where Miles lives - Gwen does.

So in this shot, she knows whoever is up there is 1) close to Hobie and 2) knows where Miles lives. That can only be two people - Peter, or Gwen. And Hobie is way closer to Gwen.

Jessica has all the info to know that Gwen is now universe jumping with technology she got from Hobie. That's HUGE information, considering Miguel has no idea that other people can universe jump without his assistance.

Jess still doesn't rat Gwen out.

Jessica isn't perfect considering she was beating the absolute dogshit outta Miles for no reason - but I think people REALLY mischaracterize her relationship with Gwen.

Jessica never threatened Gwen. She never told Miguel anything.

Jessica was the one who let Gwen come to 1610 - hence the 'If Miguel finds out I let you come-'

And when things went south, she still gave Gwen a chance to try and clean up her own mess, by sending her to Mumbattan.

I see a lot of Jess slander and idk man - I just don't get the hate for her.

Jessica did FAR more trying to help out Gwen than Peter did for Gwen or Miles. While Peter physically restrains Miles (ITSV) and gets him caught (ATSV) -

Jessica talks Miguel into accepting Gwen, gives her the mission to 1610, and gives her multiple chances to clean up her mess. All while keeping the info from Miguel until the last possible second.

Was she wrong for kicking Miles in the chest. Yeah. That's unarguable. 😐

Is she a shit mentor? I don't think so!

--------------------000---------------------

I've been meaning to write a longer post about this but it's 2am and I just needed to yell this!!!

I feel like a year out, it's really easy to misremember what exactly was said despite remembering the overall gist of it - but I think small things like these matter in dialogue.

We're meant to react like Gwen - the kneejerk reaction of 'Don't tell Miguel!'.

But Gwen saying that was a reflection of her own fears, NOT a response to a threat given by Jess. Jess never intended on getting Gwen sent home.

Put some respeckt on Jess' name alright 😤😤 She ain't perfect but some of the beef y'all got with her is unfounded frfr

Anyway if you read this far ily here's Hobie

BYE.

[silliesforsaken]

I love builder man I say as I disfigure him in his killer design

I’ll post about it later today or on Friday

The fact I already have a design for him in my head, but he has the least amount of votes on the poll is crazy!!!

Also uhm, whoever is lucky enough to read this, Telamon/shedletskys killer design is coming out today, yippie, at like 3:30 or like 1-2 if I’m feeling bored

Anyway yay bye bye blows kisses bye

[backtothedrawingboard]

Cutesy Stuff

Jax x Reader

Summary: You've been leaving little gifts in a secret spot in the playground for months. After receiving a gift in return, you decide to see who it was all along.

CW: Some content could be interpreted as gender dysphoria. However, it does not need to be interpreted as such.

TW: None

~~~~~~~~~~

You padded down the colorful halls of the Circus, lost in thought. Nothing was better than playing a song in your head to daydream about. You had no idea where anyone else was, but that was perfectly fine. Constant socializing was too exhausting to keep up with anyway.

You wandered over to the main sanctuary and hopped along a hop scotch board before heading to climb up a slide. No one else seemed to care about the indoor playground, but you thought it was pretty rad. You had a secret spot that you always climbed up to, placed something down, and returned later to find it gone. Maybe Caine took it? Or Bubble? Or maybe someone else. Whoever it was, you enjoyed the little interaction every time.

You crawled up into the tower and pulled back the hidden cabinet. As you expected, the small figurine you placed down a few days ago was no longer there. You smiled and pulled your pink seashell from your pocket. The last adventure on the beach was good for something. And Caine never caught the fact that you snuck a seashell out.

You placed the seashell on its spot. Hopefully whoever accepted your gifts would like it. You admired the view from the top of the tower, gazing around the open room. Zooble and Gangle were sitting together on a couch, apparently reading a book. Ragatha, Pomni, and Kinger were laughing about something on the stage. Jax was nowhere in sight, but he was probably either reading or planning a stupid prank.

After a while, you stretched and slid down a slide to get to the floor. Just a few days of waiting for your token to be taken...

~~~~~

You carried your new paper flower bouquet to your room happily. When you had checked your trinket hiding place, you found a small stack of different kinds of flowers made out of newspaper. As you went to open the door, your foot caught on something and you stumbled to the floor.

"Ha. Thought you would've learned better than that by now." That voice was unmistakable. When you looked up, Jax was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his face settled on his usual half-lidded, smug grin. You rolled your eyes and sat up.

"Thanks. I needed all the nutrients that come from the floor," you said sarcastically. The rabbit just grinned more.

"I'm here to make sure you maintain your health," he replied with an amused lilt. You just rolled your eyes again and got up off the floor.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You picked up the bouquet again. Jax's composed expression flickered to confusion momentarily.

"Where...did you get that?" he asked slowly.

You gave him an equally confused look. "Uhh. One of the towers in the playground. Why?"

The rabbit regained his composure and shrugged, looking bored. "Eh. Just curious. Ragatha give it to you? Seems like something she would make."

"No. I've been leaving little trinkets in the tower every few days and someone takes them. Guess they decided to return the favor."

Jax nodded. "Hm. Good for you. You have a secret friend." He sounded bored and slightly mocking. You sighed and pushed your door open.

"I...You don't...Ok. I'm leaving. Bye," you muttered. You caught that smug smirk again as you closed the door behind you.

You sighed again and looked around your room. The vase next to the lamp was the perfect place for the paper flowers. You arranged them to look nice and then crawled into bed for a nap. The flowers were so thoughtful. You had to figure out who made them. And who left them.

~~~~~

The Circus was quiet. There was no set day and night cycle, but there was an unspoken agreement amongst everyone of when "night" was. You climbed out of bed with a stretch and crept into the hallway, wincing from the sudden light. As you trotted out to the main sanctuary, you noticed a shadow in the tower. It was too quick to make out the shape, but it could be the culprit.

You hurried to the base of the tower and scurried up the platforms as quietly as humanly possible. This was it. After months of mystery, your secret friend was about to be revealed.

You hopped onto the last platform and looked up excitedly. It was a tall, slim figure. It must be Kinge-!...Jax? Your eyes widened in shock. He looked equally surprised.

"Uh...Jax?" you whispered. The rabbit was holding a small figure in his hand and quickly shoved it in his pocket.

"What the $&!@ are you doing here?!" he whisper yelled.

You flinched. "I-...! What are you doing here?!" you answered. After a few moments of staring at each other in silence, Jax bolted down the slide. You jumped to your feet and watched in dumbfounded confusion a second before diving after him. As soon as he hit the floor, the rabbit's long legs propelled him at top speed towards the dorms.

You panted as you followed. &!$? it, why was he so fast?! Stupid rabbit legs! You slid to a halt at his now-closed door. "Jax! Let me in! I wanna talk!"

You didn't get an answer. Typical. Jax always pretended not to be there when anyone came knocking. You huffed in annoyance.

"Jax! Please! At least come out so we can-!" You squealed in surprise as you tumbled into the room. Your apparent friend looked just as surprised when you hit the floor.

"What the- Why were you leaning against the door?" he demanded. You groaned and looked up. You couldn't help but gape in surprise. His room was...mostly pink? And the decorations didn't look like what most men would want. The rabbit seemed upset and slapped a hand over your eyes.

"Hey! Who said you could snoop, creep?!" he growled. You smiled sheepishly.

"Uh...Sorry...I didn't mean to. But...Why is your room so girly?"

"Shut up." There was a clear defensiveness to his tone. "It's not like I designed it myself."

You pulled his hand off your face and glanced around. It definitely resembled the average college woman's dorm. Just bigger, of course. You looked to a shelf and saw all your little trinkets set out on it. So that's where they went after they were taken. You sat up and smiled at Jax.

"Aww...You collected all of it and set it on display...?" you asked quietly.

Jax growled and averted his gaze. "Shut up...I'm allowed to enjoy things like that...N-not that I do, of course..."

You patted his foot reassuringly. "No, no. It's alright. I'm not judging. You're allowed to like 'em. I'm just...a little surprised it was you who was collecting it all along."

The rabbit's ears folded down and he crossed his arms. His pupils were small as he stared at the floor. "Yeah, well...Don't leave your £$?& lying around for people to take..."

You looked around a bit more quietly. Everything in his room was laid out neatly and nicely. The pastel colors were a huge contrast to his personality. You couldn't help but wonder the cause.

"Um...If you don't mind me getting personal...Why is your room so...bright? I know you didn't originally design it yourself, but our rooms are still based off of us," you muttered softly.

Jax scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Whatever. Caine just throws stuff together however he wants. I don't know what goes through his head."

You nodded slowly. "Yeah, but...Even still, you did choose to the take my gifts and use them for decoration. And a lot of them are all cutesy."

The rabbit huffed again. "I don't...I don't know...Are men not allowed to enjoy things now?!" he practically yelled.

You held up your hands in a placating gesture. "I didn't say that. You can enjoy whatever you want. I was just curious. Sorry for prying."

The two of you sat and stood in tense silence for a little while. Jax's crossed arms finally loosened and he reached into his pocket. He held it out to you.

"Here..." he mumbled. You took it and looked down at it. It was a tiny, translucent green duck figure, no bigger than a quarter. You smiled.

"Thank you, Jax..." you said. It was adorable. "Um...Do you want to keep doing this?"

There was a hesitant pause. "...Yes."

You smiled wider and nodded. "Cool!"

"But don't you dare tell anyone." Jax glared at you. But it was softer than before.

You nodded in agreement. "Got it. I won't."

The rabbit slowly sat next to you, his tail wagging a little. "I just..." He growled.

You couldn't help but giggle a little. "Hey, I get it. Don't worry. I'm self conscious about liking this kinda stuff sometimes, too."

Jax rolled his eyes and leaned back on his hands. "Yeah, but...I'm a man."

"So?"

"Ugh. I'm the pinnacle of masculinity," he stated snarkily.

You giggled. "Oh, I'm not denying that. Men are allowed to enjoy cutesy stuff. No problems with it."

Jax scratched his chest. "Yeah. I know."

You admired your new duck and yawned. The rabbit rolled his eyes and jabbed at your arm. "Jeez, get to bed, Princess. Did you even sleep at all yet?"

You smiled sheepishly. "I mean...We don't exactly need to."

"Too bad." Your friend got up and pulled you to your feet. "I want to sleep, so get going." He pushed you out of the room. You noticed his tail wagging before the door slammed closed on you. You smiled and shook your head.

You wandered over to your room and stepped inside. You looked around the shelves and decided the duck should sit next to the vase of paper flowers. You set it down and patted its head with a fingertip before climbing into bed. You turned off the lamp and rolled onto your back. You didn't expect any of this at all. But...you certainly weren't complaining.