#but honestly I can’t even remember this stuff happening in the books | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

millerscoffee · 1 year ago

Note

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals. It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it. So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front. He hands out papers, hovering by your desk. Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down. You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings. “Shit,” you say to yourself. That was it. That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course. You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling. You failed. Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind. What were you to do? How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it. The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller. Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes. His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns. He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve. A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt. Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him. “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?” Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl. Proving not to judge a book by its cover. The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff. Predicates and imagery? I’d rather be learning about biology. But I need this course, you know. And I…,” you swallow hard. God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher. He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,” Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table. He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms. Keeps his distance. “It happens, you know. There are things we can do to accommodate. You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail. You have options. I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final. Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare. You know the workload of this university. Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?” You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it. The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help. You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all. I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though. You’d have to come by my house…,” he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course. If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it. You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did. Though, that was neither here nor there. His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing. Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place. But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay. Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race. Tonight? Tonight?! Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.” How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively. “Here’s my address. 7 o’clock.”

“Seven. Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.” His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat. You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers. It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar. Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach. It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home. Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans. His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted. His stomach, soft at the bottom. You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks. You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too. Charismatic as he invites you into his home. Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks. His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower. What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home. It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time. His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures. Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children. He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right? When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too. Fuck, this feels so easy. But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language. He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that. You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally. Plump and ripe for the taking. Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you. What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression. You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen. You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?” When you take the water from him, your fingers graze. The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind. He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead. The two lines between his brow. “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table. Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree. You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop. All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down. You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster. You dread it, you really do. Going over your failures? You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,” Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift. The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head. “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought. You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax. Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself. “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything. See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.” Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format. This citation works for your research papers, right?” He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day. You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper. “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs. You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it? You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly. If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format. Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting. An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse. You shift your gaze to look at him. The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest. The freckles that splayed over his aged skin. “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement. And a pointed one, it seems. Someone to tell you what to do. And Joel wanted to be that person? Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it. Maybe he did that just because this was his house. That must’ve been it. He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next. He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either. What? I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart. Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap. You deserved better than that. He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself. He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes. He felt for you. And he was a bit lost in your eyes. You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit. Joel could see that. He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted. You threw him off without even trying. The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise. You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly. “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay. You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.” He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. The candor, the nerve. A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were. Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain. They look soft, and… willing. You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else. You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming. He’s not married? You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this? So close? Backed by the glow of his house? It was so different from the boys you were used to. In their dorms or disgusting apartments. It smelled as nice as it looked. You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself. You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster. Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway. I know I didn’t at that age.”

There. The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?” You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee. Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers. “Forty-six. You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion. How will this land? What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa. He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out. Do you fake it? Do you give it to them straight? Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you? N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you. It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp. But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge. It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you. Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone. No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet. He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day? You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing. Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans. His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that. All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things. That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready. His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing. Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually. He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination. “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses. Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does. On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat. You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this. You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.” Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request. “I – what?”

“No?” Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood. It’s just, straddling his face? Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?” His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural. But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school. Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today. He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you. “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?” You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place. And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures. His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor. “Fuck,” you mutter. This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does. You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest. Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand? All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening. “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.” Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told. Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart. Then, it’s incredibly palpable. His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him. You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself. There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too. Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt. “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks. Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do. Has so much to teach you, if you let him. Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much. Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him. An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much. It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt. Delicious, deliberate. Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was. Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last. Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you. A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained. “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly. Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery. Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips. Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there. Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you. The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you. Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too. He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin. Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally. Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone. Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar. You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was. Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly. Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor. His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons. “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had. You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm. And everything else.

“You know what you did?” Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand. You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress. “What was it?” You ask, curiously. Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you. His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance. “What is it?” You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him. “No. No. I want to feel you. It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that. At how gone your brain is. Here he was, thinking he was the only one. “Okay, okay, darlin’. I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion. But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head. You were everywhere. His mouth, his glistening chest and beard. He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation. Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock. “Such a needy little thing, now,” it’s as if someone else is talking. This isn’t the Professor Miller you know. This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it. “So fucking wet. Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock. Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it. “Take my cock.”

And take, you do. Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock. Clenching around the head and he growls at that. “You dirty thing. This how you fuck all your teachers?” It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you! Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you. It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him. “Just me, show me then. Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over. Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once. Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own. The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else. His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole. You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected. Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore. “Fuck me, Joel! Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?” Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first. Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this. When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you. How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now. His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow. The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on. The way it sounds. Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you. Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake. You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs. Over your own stomach. You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your. His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it. I know you can take it. Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby. That’s it, that’s good, darlin’. Shh, easy. Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat. Come for me, I know you can be so good for me. Good for – fuck – fuck. Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit. “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop. Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come. Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore. You feel too good. Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves. “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!” Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms. You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out. So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear. He doesn’t want to any more than you do. But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out. Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you. You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back. But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle. When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too. He’s just as disheveled. The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?” He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender. More playful. More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.” he’s finished enough for you to roll over. You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop. He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant. “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow. “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,” Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now. “You will pass by your own volition. I meant it – you are bright. You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.” He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave. And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.” You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue. Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

#bee's requests #professor!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou smut #joel miller requests #soft!dom joel #softdom!joel #professor au #professor joel miller au #tlou au #joel miller au #by bee

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia Vanrouge x reader

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey it looks like he likes you too.

Series Masterlist

You love your best friend. You really, really do. But sometimes—sometimes—the things they drag you into make you question your life choices. This time? It’s a novel. A bad one.

The plot is borderline unreadable, but somehow, it’s now your problem. Because of course it is.

“So, listen,” your friend had said, waving the book around like it was some kind of literary masterpiece. “Malleus Draconia, the fae prince, is cursed—chained up in this forest. The curse can only be broken by someone who isn’t attracted to him. But here’s the kicker: he’s so hot that no one can break the curse. For ten years.”

“Uh-huh.” You’d nodded along, already feeling your brain cells start to wave white flags of surrender. But your friend continued.

“The main character stumbles upon him after years of drama and frees him because they’re the only one not drooling over him. Then they fall in love, blah, blah, blah.”

At this point, you were barely listening. But then they dropped the bomb. Your eyes were shutting and you felt the sweet embrace of sleep call to you.

“Also, there’s this subplot where a magical plague of squirrels overruns the kingdom, the Saint betrays everyone by secretly being a double agent for some shadowy organization, and—get this—there’s a surprise paternity reveal where the devil is the father of the Saint who turns out to be the evil villain controlling everything.”

Your face had hit the pillow as your soul left your body.

And somehow, the next thing you remember is waking up dead. Or, more specifically, reincarnated. In the body of the heroine. In that story.

You can't believe the story was so terrible that it killed you.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that the room is way too fancy for your tastes. The bed is massive, the sheets feel like they cost more than your entire existence, and the walls are adorned with tacky portraits of people who are probably supposed to be important.

“Oh, no,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

But it is. You’re in the novel. The very one your friend had been yammering about. And not only are you in it, but you’ve woken up a full year before the plot is supposed to kick off. A year of waiting for terrible drama, an ex-fiancé who can’t take a hint, and a poor fae prince you’re supposed to rescue.

But you? Yeah, you’re not that patient.

“No way am I waiting a whole year for some garbage plot to unfold,” you mutter, throwing the covers off. “I’m just going to free Malleus now, take my reward, and live a quiet, drama-free life by the beach.”

With that plan firmly in mind, you march out the door.

It takes a bit of wandering through some overly cursed forest, but you eventually find Malleus’s “prison.” And honestly? It’s not nearly as dramatic as you expected.

There he is, sitting in the middle of a clearing, chained up in some kind of spooky-but-also-weirdly-ornate setup. He looks just as the novel described: tall, dark-haired, horns giving him an air of mystery and power. But what you weren’t prepared for? The way his eyes widen slightly in surprise when he sees you.

“I wasn’t expecting… company,” Malleus says, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You pause for a second. He looks intimidating, sure, but there’s something oddly… sweet about him. Like a guy who’d get excited over a party invite and then be too shy to actually show up.

“Yeah, I’m just here to get this whole ‘curse-breaking’ thing out of the way,” you say casually, walking up to the chains. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

Malleus blinks, looking a bit confused. “You… are not attracted to me?”

You snort. “Nah, not really. You’re nice to look at, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve got my own problems. Let’s just get you free so I can collect my reward and move on.”

He still looks mildly surprised but nods. “Very well.”

With a shrug, you reach out and touch the chains. There’s a brief flicker of light, and they dissolve. Just like that.

Malleus looks down at his freed wrists, clearly shocked. “It… it worked.”

“Yeah, wild, right?” you say, brushing off your hands. “So, about that reward…”

Before you can finish, Malleus stands and, in a tone so polite it makes you feel guilty, says, “You have freed me. Please, allow me to invite you to stay at my castle. As a guest.”

You blink at him. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

Malleus’s expression falters for a moment, and you swear he looks a little sad. “But… I would like to repay you for your kindness.”

He’s giving you this look, all wide-eyed and hopeful, and you realize—he just wants to hang out.

Oh no.

“Ugh, fine,” you groan. “I’ll stick around for a bit.”

The way his face lights up is honestly too pure for someone who was supposed to be all intimidating and all-powerful.

When you arrive at Malleus’s castle, things get interesting real fast. You’re greeted by his entourage—Sebek, who looks like he’s one insult away from going Super Saiyan; Silver, who’s napping on his feet; and Lilia, who seems like the embodiment of chaos.

Sebek is the first to speak, scowling at you with righteous fury. “How DARE you approach Lord Malleus with such insolence!”

You roll your eyes. “I just freed him. You’re welcome.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but Lilia steps forward, his sharp grin making you instantly suspicious. “Oh? You broke the curse? Without being… swayed by our dear Malleus’s charms?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Fascinating. You must have quite the willpower. Or perhaps…” He looks you up and down, clearly intrigued. “You simply have different tastes?”

You blink. Then, without thinking, you point at him. “Actually, yeah. You’re hot.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence, during which Sebek looks like he’s been hit with a brick, and Lilia lets out a delighted laugh.

“Oh, you are a delight,” Lilia says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Perhaps you should stay longer.”

“You think I’m joking, but I’m not,” you deadpan, earning a grin from Lilia.

Silver, meanwhile, is still half-asleep and completely unfazed by your chaos. “Good job on freeing Malleus,” he mutters, yawning.

Malleus, who has been silent this whole time, finally speaks up. “You… do not find me attractive?”

You turn to him and sigh. “Look, it’s not that you’re not attractive. You’re, like… objectively pretty. But I don’t really go for the whole cursed prince thing.”

Malleus seems to process this slowly, his brows furrowing slightly. “I see…”

“But don’t worry,” you add quickly, feeling a bit bad for the guy. “You’re sweet. It’s a compliment, really.”

Malleus looks a little less confused and a bit more happy. “Sweet? No one has ever called me that before.”

You snort. “Well, I’m calling it now. And hey, you’ve got your freedom, right? Now you can get invited to all those parties you wanted.”

At this, Malleus’s eyes widen slightly, and you realize—oh no, he’s the type who really just wants to be invited to stuff.

“Oh,” you mutter under your breath, “you’re like a giant puppy, aren’t you?”

Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused, but before he can ask, Lilia leans in with a knowing grin. “I think you’ll fit in just fine around here.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is gonna be a long stay, isn’t it?”

Lilia’s smile widens. “Oh, most definitely.”

Later, you’re sitting around the dining hall with the group when Lilia casually brings up the dreaded plot points.

“So, when do you think the magical plague of squirrels will hit?” he asks, almost too casually.

You nearly choke on your drink. “The what now?”

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Lilia smirks. “There’s a prophecy. The squirrels will overrun the kingdom unless someone stops them.”

You blink. “This is real? I thought that part was a fever dream.”

Malleus nods seriously. “The squirrels are quite the threat.”

You slam your head on the table. “I’m trapped in a nightmare.”

Silver, half-asleep as always, just yawns. “I’ll take care of them. Probably.”

And that’s when you realize: maybe you should have let the curse be.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, but you and Malleus… well, you’ve become friends. It started small, mostly casual conversations where he’d hover around, awkward but eager, just happy to be included. There was this one time you invited him to tea, and the poor guy looked like he was about to cry from happiness. Now? You’re taking your frienship to the next level.

“Hey,” you say, strolling into the throne room where Malleus is doing the farthest thing from brooding. He’s just kind of standing there, staring out the window like he’s daydreaming about a really nice picnic. “Want to go to the market with me?”

The look on his face is priceless. His eyes widen like you’ve just handed him a golden ticket to the best party of the year. “You… want me to accompany you?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, as if this isn’t the biggest deal of his life. “I need to pick up some stuff, and I figured it’d be more fun with a friend. Plus, y’know, maybe someone will actually give me a discount if you’re there.”

Malleus looks like you just offered him the world “I would be honored.”

And that’s how you, Malleus, and the rest of his chaotic entourage—because of course they followed—ended up at the bustling market.

Sebek? Less than thrilled. In fact, you think he might actually be foaming at the mouth. “I cannot believe you are fraternizing with Lord Malleus so casually! Do you not understand the honor you’ve been given?!”

“Sebek,” you sigh, waving a hand dismissively, “we’ve been over this. I’m his friend. Friends do normal stuff together. You know, like going to the market.”

Sebek glares at you like you’ve just insulted his entire bloodline. “Lord Malleus does not engage in such trivialities!”

“Uh,” you glance over at Malleus, who is currently inspecting a row of intricately carved fruit. “He’s literally doing it right now, Sebek.”

Malleus turns to you, holding up a fruit shaped like a tiny dragon. “Would you like to try one? It is said to bring good fortune.”

You grin at him. “If you’re offering, I’m down.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode from sheer indignation.

“You dare—!”

“Sebek,” Malleus cuts in, his voice as gentle as ever. “I am quite enjoying myself. There’s no need to worry.”

You grin at the sight. “You’re really into this, huh?”

Malleus glances at you, a little bashful but still smiling. “I have never been invited to something like this before. It is… a new experience.”

Oh god, he’s so sweet. You feel like you’re corrupting a baby deer by dragging him into the real world, but it’s so worth it.

Lilia, however, is having the time of his life. He leans over, grinning like the mischievous little gremlin he is, and whispers in your ear, “I must say, you’ve got quite the charm. Lord Malleus rarely accepts invitations. You might be more important to him than you think.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, maybe he just really likes fruit.”

Lilia laughs, a sound that’s equal parts endearing and dangerous. “Or maybe he enjoys your company, hm?”

“Careful,” you say, flashing a grin. “Keep sweet-talking me like that, and I might start flirting back.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Oh? I think I’d enjoy that.”

Oh god, he’s not backing down. Now you’re in the deep end. “Listen, if you keep going, I’m gonna have to ask if you’ve got plans for dinner.”

“I’m free this evening,” Lilia replies smoothly. “Shall I prepare a feast? Or perhaps we could have something more… intimate?”

You blink at him, unable to tell if he’s messing with you or if this is just how he operates. Either way, you’re so down to find out.

Before you can respond, Sebek cuts in, voice raised to what can only be described as ‘angry airhorn.’ “You will not speak so casually to Master Lilia!”

“Oh, Sebek, relax,” you say, patting him on the shoulder, which is a mistake because it feels like patting a brick wall. “He likes it.”

Lilia winks at you, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. “Indeed, I do.”

You smirk, shooting Lilia a playful look. “See? The man’s practically begging for attention.”

Malleus, meanwhile, has been watching this entire exchange with mild confusion. “Is this what humans call… flirting?”

You give him an exaggerated nod. “Yup. It’s a sacred tradition. Very serious stuff.”

“I see,” Malleus muses, looking between you and Lilia. “Perhaps I should try it as well?”

“Oh, please don’t,” Sebek groans, looking absolutely horrified at the idea of Malleus flirting. “Lord Malleus, you are above such trivial pursuits!”

Lilia is practically cackling at this point. “Now, now, Sebek. It wouldn’t hurt to let Malleus explore new experiences.”

You grin and elbow Malleus lightly. “Don’t listen to Sebek. You can totally flirt if you want.”

Malleus, sweet as he is, looks completely serious when he asks, “What would I say? I do not wish to offend.”

You pause, trying very hard not to laugh. “Okay, how about this? Try complimenting someone. Like…” You glance around and point at a vendor selling flowers. “Tell them they have lovely flowers.”

Malleus nods, taking this very seriously, and walks over to the vendor. You, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver (who’s been napping the whole time) watch as Malleus, ever the gentleman, says to the vendor, “Your flowers… are as radiant as the moonlight.”

The vendor looks flustered, blushing furiously. “Oh! Thank you, My Lord!”

You can’t help but laugh. “See? You’re a natural.”

Malleus returns to your side, looking pleased with himself. “I believe that went well.”

“Yeah, now you just have to work on *accepting* compliments,” you say with a wink, and Malleus tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“Accepting?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “like, if I were to tell you you’re the sweetest giant fae-dragon puppy I’ve ever met, you’d say…?”

Malleus looks genuinely flustered, his cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink. “I… would say… thank you?”

“Good enough,” you laugh, nudging him playfully. “We’ll work on it.”

Sebek is muttering to himself about ‘disrespect’ and ‘sacrilege,’ but Malleus looks… happy. Like, really happy. He’s still a little awkward, sure, but you can tell he’s having a good time. Probably more fun than he’s had in years.

Lilia, meanwhile, is back at your side, leaning in close with that smirk of his. “You’re quite the influence, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” you grin, “someone’s gotta drag him into the real world.”

“Perhaps you’ll drag me into something as well?” Lilia purrs, his voice low and teasing.

You blink at him. “Keep talking, and I might actually propose to you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Lilia says, eyes glinting with mischief. “Perhaps later tonight?”

“Is that an invitation?” you quip, raising an eyebrow.

Sebek practically has steam coming out of his ears. “Master Lilia!”

But Lilia just laughs, utterly unfazed. “Oh, Sebek. You really must learn to loosen up.”

Silver yawns loudly, cutting through Sebek’s rant like a chainsaw through butter. “Can we get food now?”

You snort. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Malleus, ever the polite host, nods eagerly. “Yes, let us dine together. A family outing is not complete without a meal.”

You pause, blinking. Family? Did he just call this a family outing?

Lilia catches your expression and chuckles. “Oh dear, it seems Malleus has grown quite fond of you.”

You shoot him a playful glare. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” Lilia says, smiling knowingly. “In fact, I believe it’s quite the opposite.”

Before you can respond, Malleus steps up, still radiating pure joy. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight? I would very much enjoy your company.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to self-destruct from sheer disbelief, but you? You can’t help but grin. “Sure, why not? But if I catch you stealing my dessert, it’s game over.”

Malleus chuckles, his awkwardness fading just a bit. “I shall do my best to restrain myself.”

Lilia leans over, voice low and teasing again. “Perhaps you’ll save dessert for me, hm?”

You snort. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

“Ah, but I’m a fae. Luck is my specialty.”

You shake your head, grinning as you walk alongside Malleus, who’s positively glowing with happiness. Yeah, this is one weird, dysfunctional family, but maybe you like it that way.

It’s quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that settles deep in your bones, making you feel both peaceful and unbearably restless. You find yourself standing on a balcony, overlooking the courtyard bathed in moonlight. The cool breeze whispers through the trees, the scent of night-blooming flowers drifting lazily through the air.

Lilia stands beside you, leaning against the stone railing, his usual playful demeanor absent. In its place is a rare solemnity, something you’ve only seen glimpses of before. You glance at him, noting the way the moonlight catches in his hair, casting soft shadows across his face. It feels... strange, seeing him like this. So serious, so quiet.

After a long silence, he speaks, his voice soft but weighted with emotion. “I was terrified, you know. Of losing him.”

You don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. Malleus. The curse that had wrapped around him for so long, a dark cloud that threatened to take him away. You had been the unexpected catalyst for breaking it, and while you hadn’t fully understood the gravity of it at the time, you’re beginning to now.

Lilia continues, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen many things, lost many people... but the thought of losing him...” He trails off, his voice catching in a way that makes your heart ache. “It would have broken me.”

You swallow, unsure of what to say. What can you say to something like that? You’re just... you. You never asked to be involved in any of this, never imagined that you’d become such an important part of these people’s lives. But here you are.

“I didn’t do anything special,” you finally manage, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just... there.”

Lilia turns to look at you, and there’s something deep in his eyes—something raw and real that takes your breath away. “Sometimes just being there is enough,” he says quietly. “You saved him. And in doing so, you saved me too.”

You shift uncomfortably, not because of his words, but because of the way they tug at something deep inside of you. A part of you that you’ve been trying to keep buried for as long as you’ve been in this strange, unfamiliar world.

You’re silent for a long time, your gaze fixed on the moonlit sky. The memories of your old life swirl in your mind—your family, your best friend, all the people you’ve left behind. You haven’t spoken about it to anyone here, not in detail. It feels too dangerous, too vulnerable. But standing here, under the moonlight with Lilia, you feel like maybe... just maybe... you can share a piece of it.

“I miss them,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “My family. My best friend. I miss... home.”

Lilia doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. He doesn’t press for details, doesn’t ask questions you’re not ready to answer. He just listens, and somehow, that’s enough.

You take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. “It’s hard,” you continue, your voice shaking slightly. “Being here. Being away from them. Sometimes it feels like... like I’m losing pieces of myself. Like I’m forgetting what it felt like to be... whole.”

Lilia’s hand gently rests on your shoulder, a comforting weight that grounds you. “You haven’t lost yourself,” he says quietly. “Not even a little.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. You don’t know if he’s right, but in this moment, you want to believe him. You want to believe that despite everything, despite the distance and the pain and the uncertainty, you’re still... you.

For a long time, the two of you stand in silence, the only sounds the soft rustling of the trees and the distant chirping of crickets. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting everything in a silvery glow. There’s a quiet understanding between you and Lilia, a shared pain that neither of you needs to fully explain.

Eventually, Lilia speaks again, his voice so soft it almost blends with the wind. “The world can be a cruel place,” he murmurs. “But it can also be kind. And in moments like this... it feels just a little more bearable, doesn’t it?”

You nod, your throat tight with unshed tears. “Yeah,” you whisper. “It does.”

The night stretches on, and though neither of you say anything more, there’s a comfort in the silence. A bond formed in the quiet acknowledgment of each other’s pain. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not quite so alone.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay.

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here, but somehow, you’re on a date with Lilia. Yes, that Lilia—lord of chaos, culinary adventurer, and general source of havoc.

The setting is picturesque enough: a meadow at sunset, complete with wildflowers and a gentle breeze. At least, it would be picturesque if not for the feast Lilia has prepared, which has a worrying amount of color, movement, and mystery.

“Surprise is the key to a romantic evening,” Lilia declares as he gestures proudly over the assortment of dishes.

You take a moment to assess the display. There’s a vibrantly colored stew that seems to be emitting steam with a life of its own. A platter of vegetables is twitching as if they’re reconsidering their life choices. And there’s a pie—definitely a pie—with something that looks suspiciously like an eyeball poking out from under the crust.

Lilia smiles at you, eyes glinting. “Would you like to try the stew first, my dear? It’s my own special concoction.”

You stare at it, then at him. “How many people have survived eating this?”

Lilia leans in, eyes full of mischief. “Define survived.”

You grin. “Only one way to find out, right?” Before he can respond, you reach for the bowl and take a large spoonful of the stew. Lilia’s eyebrows rise, clearly impressed by your boldness.

It tastes... unusual. Like someone mixed spicy peppers, sweet berries, and some kind of very sharp herb. You take another bite, considering.

Lilia watches you, waiting for a reaction. “Well?” he asks, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You swallow, then nod thoughtfully. “It’s... actually good. Really good, in fact.”

Lilia blinks, his expression shifting from mischief to genuine surprise. “Really?”

You nod again, going in for a third bite, savoring the strange combination of flavors. “Yeah! I mean, it’s different, but in a good way. The spice, the sweetness... it kind of works.”

Lilia’s face lights up, his delight palpable. “You truly mean it? My culinary prowess is usually met with... trepidation.”

“Trepidation might be an understatement,” you say with a laugh. “But honestly? I think people don’t give you enough credit.”

From somewhere nearby, a strangled gasp echoes across the meadow.

“Master Lilia!” Sebek’s voice rings out, sounding more horrified than ever. You glance in the direction of the bushes where, sure enough, they’re rustling. Apparently, Sebek has taken it upon himself to supervise this date from afar.

Lilia chuckles, clearly enjoying Sebek's reaction as much as yours. “Oh, my dear Sebek. One day, you shall learn that adventure begins in the kitchen.”

You take a sip of the iridescent liquid before you—a drink that looks more like a potion than anything else. It’s sparkling, and it has the distinct taste of... glittery fruit juice? You’re not sure, but it’s oddly refreshing.

Lilia eyes you, his smile turning softer, more genuine. “I must say, you are full of surprises. Most would have fainted by now.”

“Hey, I can handle a little excitement,” you say, reaching for one of the twitching vegetables.

Lilia watches in awe as you pop it into your mouth and chew. “And?” he asks, almost breathless.

You blink. “Crunchy. Kind of earthy. I like it.”

Lilia’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh, how wonderful! My dear, you truly are one of a kind.”

Sebek’s dismayed groan echoes once again, and you laugh, glancing toward the bushes. “I think we’re breaking poor Sebek.”

“Well, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Lilia replies, leaning closer to you. “And speaking of fun, I have something special for you.” He produces a bright blue flower, presenting it to you with a flourish.

You take it, giving it a cautious sniff. It smells like fresh-baked cookies, and you look at Lilia, raising an eyebrow. “A flower that smells like dessert? Now you’re really spoiling me.”

Lilia’s eyes soften, his voice lowering. “Only the best for someone who appreciates my unique touch.”

Before you can reply, there’s another voice—this one distinctly sleepy. “Father, what... what’s going on here?” Silver approaches, looking like he just woke up from a nap. He takes one look at the scene—the half-eaten dishes, the flower in your hand, and Lilia’s delighted expression—and sighs. “Are you actually eating this... willingly?”

You nod, grinning. “Turns out Lilia’s cooking isn’t so bad. It’s actually kind of great.”

Silver looks at you, then at Lilia, then back at you. He blinks, his brain clearly trying to process this information. “Father, are you using magic to manipulate their taste buds?”

Lilia puts a hand over his heart, looking offended. “Silver, how could you suggest such a thing? I assure you, our dear friend here is enjoying my cooking purely of their own volition.”

Silver sighs again, rubbing his temples. “I think I need another nap.”

Lilia laughs, turning his attention back to you, his eyes filled with affection. “You truly are something special, my dear. Few have ever dared, let alone enjoyed, my creations.”

You smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Lilia leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Would it be too much to say I find you... irresistible?”

You chuckle, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

Lilia smirks, his gaze full of warmth. “Ah, but pushing my luck is what I do best. Perhaps next time, I’ll cook an even more adventurous meal for us.”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “Define adventurous.”

Lilia’s eyes glint mischievously. “How about roasted phoenix feathers?”

“Phoenix feathers?” you echo, shaking your head with a laugh. “You know what? I think I like you just the way you are—absurd cooking experiments and all.”

Lilia’s expression softens, his smile turning tender. “I’m glad to hear it.”

With that, the two of you rise, arm in arm, leaving behind the bizarre remains of the meal. Somewhere in the bushes, Sebek is probably fuming, and Silver has most likely already fallen asleep again.

But as you glance at Lilia, whose eyes are still filled with excitement and warmth, you think that maybe absurd is just what you need.

You love this little family, but you had to gain equal footing with Sebek before you got attached any further. So you did what you thought would work the best— Challenge him in something he enjoys.

You and Sebek had been circling the field for a while now, your horses galloping side by side as you both tried to outpace each other. The competitive tension was thick in the air, though not hostile—it was more of an unspoken game to see who would crack first.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been riding horses for *years*?” Sebek shouts over the wind, his eyes sharp with determination.

“Yup,” you reply, grinning as your horse picks up speed. “Equestrian club, since I was a kid. Surprised?”

Sebek huffs, his posture straight and rigid as always, but you can tell he’s impressed. “It’s… commendable. For a human, you’ve got some skill.”

“Some skill?” you tease, glancing over at him with a mischievous smile. “Is that all I get? Come on, Sebek, I thought you were competitive.”

He narrows his eyes at you, spurring his horse faster to pull ahead. “I am competitive! You’ll find I do not lose so easily.”

You laugh, nudging your horse to keep up. There’s a thrill in it—pushing each other, but not in a mean way. Sebek’s passion for horse riding matches your own, and it’s fun to finally find common ground with him. Plus, you’re enjoying the challenge.

The field blurs by as you both race toward the far fence, neither of you backing down. As you approach the finish line (or rather, the arbitrary spot you both decided was the end), you both cross it at nearly the same time, pulling your horses to a halt, panting slightly.

Sebek is the first to speak, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Hmph. You’re not bad.”

“Not bad? I’d say I’m pretty good,” you shoot back, grinning ear to ear.

Sebek scoffs, but there’s a lightness in his tone that wasn’t there before. “You’re still a human, but… I’ll admit, you ride with some honor.”

“Wow, high praise,” you tease, but you soften your smile. “Thanks, Sebek. You’re not half-bad yourself.”

For a split second, you think you catch the ghost of a smile on his face, but it quickly disappears as he straightens in his saddle. “Of course. Riding is in my blood.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, obviously. I bet you were born in the saddle.”

“Perhaps I was,” Sebek says, completely serious. You stifle a laugh, realizing he probably believes that.

But before you can retort, Lilia rides up, his usual mischievous grin firmly in place. “Ah, what’s this? A friendly competition between two of my favorite people?”

“Master Lilia,” Sebek says, immediately shifting into soldier mode. “We were just—”

“Competing, yes, I can see that.” Lilia’s grin widens as he glances between the two of you. “I must say, the sight of you both racing like that was… quite exhilarating.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “What, did we impress you?”

Lilia leans closer, voice dropping into a playful tone. “Oh, darling, I’ve been impressed by you for quite some time now.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to faint from sheer mortification. “MASTER LILIA! HUMAN!”

You laugh, waving Lilia off. “Careful, Sebek, you’re gonna scare your horse.”

But surprisingly, Sebek doesn’t snap back. Instead, he looks at you, something softer in his expression. “I admit… you’ve shown me something today. Perhaps you’re not just a reckless human after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wow, Sebek. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re starting to like me.”

Sebek grumbles, looking away. “Do not mistake my words. I merely acknowledge your competence. Nothing more.”

“Sure, sure,” you reply, still grinning. “But hey, anytime you wanna ride again, I’m game.”

Sebek glances back at you, his usual harshness softened just a bit. “Perhaps… I will take you up on that.”

Lilia chuckles, clearly pleased with the budding camaraderie. “Ah, it warms my heart to see you two bonding. Who knows? Maybe you’ll become the best of friends.”

You wink at Lilia. “Well, if Sebek keeps up, maybe I’ll make him my official riding partner.”

Sebek, for once, doesn’t argue. Instead, he gives a small, determined nod. “We shall see, human. We shall see.”

As you ride back toward the stables, you can’t help but smile. You’ve earned a bit of respect from Sebek, and who knows? Maybe you’ll turn this into a full-fledged rivalry—one with a bit more fun and a lot less shouting.

Lilia, of course, flirts all the way back, making sure to keep the mood light and teasing, much to Sebek’s increasing exasperation. But even he can't deny that today was fun

The day should've been as normal as you could have these days—your stomach had other plans. There’s this nagging craving in the back of your mind for ramen, but of course, you’re stuck in a medieval isekai world where even the concept of instant noodles would make heads explode.

You groan, pacing back and forth in your room. "Ramen, ramen, ramen..." You’re practically chanting it like a spell. Finally, you snap your fingers. "Alright! Let’s get some ramen going!"

With all the determination of a contestant in a cooking show, you head to the market, a list of makeshift ingredients mentally prepared. You have no clue how you’re going to explain seaweed or soy sauce to the vendors, but hey, you’ve gotten this far in life on sheer audacity.

Except, ten minutes later, you find yourself hopelessly lost. You had been walking with confidence, chest out, head high, until you somehow managed to wander into a part of town that definitely wasn’t on your mental map. Instead of bustling vendors and cheerful shoppers, you’re now looking at a spooky, abandoned-looking area, complete with dense fog and suspiciously creaky trees.

“This... This isn’t the market,” you mutter, pausing in front of a seriously ominous cottage. If there were ever a sign that said "DO NOT ENTER" in flashing neon, this would be it. And yet, for reasons unknown even to yourself, you approach.

Before you can bolt in the opposite direction, the door swings open with the most dramatic creak you’ve ever heard. A woman, dressed in black robes, stands in the doorway with a gaze that could curdle milk. Her aura practically screams witch, and not the cool kind either—the villainous, melodramatic kind.

“Well, well, well,” she sneers, stepping out with all the grace of a Broadway villain, “look who wandered into my lair.”

“Uh, yeah...” You trail off, scratching the back of your head. “So… this isn’t the market?”

The witch gives you a look so condescending it could melt iron. “No,” she hisses, “it most certainly is not. You’ve trespassed on my domain, little fool!”

“Right, so sorry about that,” you say, trying to backpedal. “I’m just trying to make some ramen, and I—wait, hold on, who are you exactly?”

Her eyes flash with annoyance. “You don’t know who I am?”

You blink at her. “Is this the part where you tell me, like in those cartoons? ‘Cause I’m getting major ‘I’m about to monologue’ vibes right now.”

The witch’s face twitches, clearly not used to people interrupting her villain speech. “I,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect, “am the witch who cursed Malleus Draconia!”

Oh, that witch. You’ve heard some stories about her, mostly from half-paying attention when your friend geeked out over the original plot. But now that you’re face-to-face with her... this is not how you pictured it. You tilt your head.

“So, wait,” you begin, trying to suppress a snicker, “you’re the one who came up with that whole 15-year curse plan? And your big finale was… what? Swooping in at the last second to save him and then expecting him to marry you?”

Her eyes narrow. “That was the plan.”

You stare at her for a moment, the absurdity sinking in. “...That’s ridiculous.”

“How dare you mock me?!” she shrieks, her voice reaching a pitch that probably scared some birds out of nearby trees. She raises her hand, dark magic swirling between her fingers, and you swear you can hear thunder crack in the distance.

“Okay, hang on,” you say, taking a cautious step back. “Let’s not get all zappy here. I’m just saying that’s a lot of effort for a plan that has, like, a one percent success rate.”

“Silence!” She’s fuming now, throwing her hand forward to launch the magic at you—and you brace yourself for the worst. You’ve seen this in movies before. This is the part where you get turned into a frog or something equally terrible.

Except… nothing happens.

The magic fizzles out midair like a dud firecracker, leaving a puff of smoke and an awkward silence in its wake. You blink. She blinks. You both stare at the spot where the magic should have been.

“Uh…” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck. “Was that supposed to do something?”

The witch looks at her hand, then at you, then back at her hand again like she’s having a serious identity crisis. “What...?”

“I mean, points for the drama, but I’m still standing here,” you say, waving your hand in front of your face as if checking for damage. “And I don’t think I’m a toad.”

She tries again, gathering more magic in her hands and launching it at you with renewed fury. But once again, nothing. The magic stops short, fizzling out like it’s hitting an invisible barrier around you. Now she’s just staring at you, dumbfounded.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely flabbergasted. “Okay, this is getting weird.”

That’s when Lilia appears—literally, out of nowhere. He casually steps out from behind a tree like this is all a normal Monday for him. “Ah, I thought I sensed some familiar mischief afoot,” he says, his voice cheerful, though his eyes glint with something far more dangerous as they lock onto the witch.

The witch recoils, visibly shaken. “Lilia Vanrouge,” she hisses, sounding more like a disgruntled cat than a fearsome sorceress.

“In the flesh,” he says with a light bow, his grin all sharp teeth and mischief. “What brings you out of your little hidey-hole?”

She glares at him but doesn’t say anything. She’s outmatched, and she knows it. With one last seething look at you, she vanishes into thin air with a dramatic whoosh of smoke, leaving you and Lilia alone in the now eerily quiet forest.

You turn to him, utterly confused. “What the heck was that about? Why didn’t her magic work on me?”

Lilia’s grin softens, his gaze turning fond. “Ah, I see I’ve forgotten to tell you. I placed a fae’s blessing on you some time ago.”

“Wait, what?” You gape at him. “When did you do that?!”

He chuckles, as if you asking when he bestowed a magical shield on you is the most amusing thing he’s heard all week. “You tend to attract trouble, my dear. I thought it best to give you a little extra protection.”

You blink at him, still processing. “So… you’ve been secretly protecting me this whole time?”

His gaze turns a bit more serious, the usual playful air dropping away. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he says softly, the words carrying a weight you hadn’t expected.

For a moment, you’re left speechless, flustered even. The teasing and jokes you’re so used to from Lilia are gone, replaced by something… deeper. It throws you off your game.

“Well, uh…” You clear your throat, desperately trying to recover. “I appreciate not getting turned into a frog or whatever she was planning.”

His grin returns, and the moment passes. “You’re welcome. Now, shall we head back to the market? I believe you were on a quest for... ramen, was it?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the absurdity of it all catches up with you. “Yeah, let’s do that. And maybe next time I’ll avoid wandering into spooky villain lairs.”

“An excellent plan,” he says, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

And just like that, you’re back on track—albeit a bit more shaken than before, but at least you’ve got a magical blessing you didn’t know about and one very charming fae escorting you through the mess.

You’re sitting under a large tree in the courtyard, soaking up the rare bit of peace and quiet that’s fallen over your life. It’s a nice day, the kind that makes you feel all warm and content, the sun shining gently through the leaves. Beside you, Silver is leaning against the trunk, dozing off as usual. You’ve become used to his tendency to fall asleep mid-conversation, and honestly, it’s kind of adorable.

He stirs a little, blinking his sleepy eyes open and looking at you with a soft smile. “It’s nice to have moments like this,” he says, voice a bit groggy. “Especially after everything.”

“Yeah,” you reply, leaning back on your hands. “It’s been... a lot.”

Silver glances at you, his gaze thoughtful. “You really helped us. My family,” he says, his tone a bit more serious than usual. “Freeing Lord Malleus from that curse... it was no small feat.”

Your stomach twists a little at the mention of Malleus. It still feels surreal that you had a hand in such a monumental event. You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Eh, you know... just another day of accidentally stumbling into chaos.”

He chuckles lightly, his smile softening even more. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for what you’ve done. You really saved us all.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Stop, you’re going to make me blush. I was just trying to make some money, and suddenly I’m in the middle of an epic quest. You know how it is.”

Silver hums, half-amused, and then casually drops the bomb on you like it’s the most normal thing in the world: “You’d be perfect with Father.”

Your brain short-circuits. “...Sorry, what?”

Silver, utterly oblivious to the internal crisis he’s just unleashed within you, looks at you with that serene, peaceful expression of his. “Father. You’d be perfect with him.”

The world screeches to a halt. *Perfect? With Lilia?* You stare at him, wide-eyed, your mouth hanging open in a most undignified manner. “I’m sorry, did you just—did you just suggest that I—me—should be with your father?!”

Silver nods, looking completely at peace with his assessment, like he’s just commented on the weather. “Yes. You two get along well. You make each other laugh, and he seems fond of you. And Father... well, he deserves someone who can make him smile like that.”

Your mind is racing at 100 miles per hour. “Silver. SILVER.” You clutch your head as if physically holding your brain together will stop it from spiraling into madness. “Do you have any idea what you just said?”

Silver, ever the calm and composed knight, merely tilts his head. “Was it something strange?”

“STRANGE?!” You’re flailing now, completely losing your cool. “You just casually suggested I should date your father! Who, may I remind you, is an ancient fae with enough power to casually toss me into another dimension if he wanted!”

Silver blinks, seeming to consider this for a moment. “I don’t think he’d toss you into another dimension. He’d probably just... laugh and then take you out to dinner.”

You’re having a full-blown existential crisis. Your face is bright red, your heart is doing somersaults, and you’re not sure if you want to scream, faint, or throw yourself into the nearest fountain.

Silver, meanwhile, is just sitting there, serene and utterly oblivious to the emotional chaos he’s just unleashed upon you. “Father’s a good person,” He says softly. “I think you two would be happy together.”

“I... I...” You sputter, trying to form words but utterly failing as images of Lilia’s teasing smile and playful banter run through your mind. And then you imagine the alternative: Lilia’s serious side, the one that is somehow even more terrifyingly attractive, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Oh no,” you whisper, clutching your chest. “Oh no, no, no... Silver, what have you done?”

Silver looks at you with concern now, finally noticing that you’re having what can only be described as a breakdown. “Are you alright?"

“NO!” you cry, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of him. “You’ve broken me! You’ve ruined me! I’m—Silver, your father is... He’s... and I... Oh, gods, this is too much. TOO MUCH!”

Silver watches you pace for a moment before quietly saying, “You’re thinking about it, though.”

You freeze mid-step. “I—NO! Maybe? Yes? I—Why would you say that, Silver?!”

He just smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Because it’s true.”

You slump back down beside him, groaning loudly as you cover your face with your hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Silver chuckles softly, resting his head back against the tree again. “I’ve heard that before.”

And as you sit there, your mind spinning with thoughts of Lilia and all the ridiculous, impossible implications Silver’s comment has brought to life, you can’t help but think that maybe—just *maybe*—he has a point.

But you’re not ready to admit that yet. Not even to yourself.

“I need a drink,” you mumble under your breath, and Silver hums in agreement.

“Father would probably help you make it,” he says, and you let out a loud groan, flopping onto the grass in dramatic defeat.

“Silver, you’re killing me.”

He just smiles that peaceful smile of his.

It’s a quiet afternoon, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the courtyard. You’re standing with Malleus and Sebek in one of the palace’s gardens, the tranquil hum of life around you contrasting with the more serious conversation that’s about to unfold. You can feel the weight of what Malleus is about to say, and your mind spins as you prepare yourself for another emotionally charged moment.

Malleus takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “For the longest time,” he begins, his voice soft and filled with an unspoken vulnerability, “I thought I would be stuck. Trapped in that cursed state forever. I had resigned myself to it, believing that it was my fate to be alone.”

You shift slightly, unsure how to respond to such raw honesty. Sebek, standing next to Malleus, is silent for once, his usual loud and defensive nature tempered by the gravity of his lord’s words.

“But then you came along,” Malleus continues, turning his glowing eyes toward you. “You broke the curse, something no one had been able to do. You gave me back my freedom, something I had lost hope of ever regaining.”

Sebek clears his throat loudly, his usual dramatic flair coming to the surface despite the tenderness of the moment. “Yes, well,” he says, voice gruff but tinged with the awkwardness of someone who isn’t quite used to expressing gratitude. “I... suppose we should be... grateful. After all, if it weren’t for you, Lord Malleus would still be... cursed, and we wouldn’t be here together as we are now.”

You blink at Sebek’s begrudging admission, feeling a small smile tug at your lips. The fact that he of all people is thanking you, even in such a roundabout way, is oddly touching.

“Wow, Sebek,” you say, voice teasing but soft. “Who knew you had it in you?”

Sebek bristles at your words, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “D-Don’t misunderstand!” he exclaims, face turning a shade redder than usual. “I’m merely stating the facts! Nothing more!”

Malleus chuckles softly at Sebek’s outburst, his usual gentle smile returning to his face. “Sebek’s gratitude, no matter how begrudging, is indeed a rarity,” he teases lightly before turning his attention back to you. “But truly, I am grateful. You’ve given me back more than just my freedom. You’ve given me back... this.”

He gestures around him, indicating the garden, the palace, the sky above. “This life, this chance to be with those I care about. And for that, I owe you a debt that I may never be able to repay.”

You shift awkwardly, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “I mean, I didn’t really set out to save anyone,” you admit, your voice light but with an edge of honesty. “I just... wanted the reward. And then maybe to go home.”

Sebek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Malleus holds up a hand, stopping him before he can launch into one of his dramatic tirades

You hesitate, glancing between Malleus and Sebek. “I didn’t think I’d get attached,” you admit quietly, your voice softening. “But I have. Somehow, I’ve found myself... caring about all of you. This weird little makeshift family.”

Sebek looks as though he’s about to protest the “weird” part, but a stern glance from Malleus keeps him quiet. You can see the begrudging acknowledgment in his eyes, though—he knows it’s true, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Malleus hums thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he speaks again. “Well,” he says casually, as if discussing something as simple as the weather, “if you’re so attached, perhaps we should make it official. Perhaps you should marry into the family."

You freeze. Did he just—?

You whip your head towards Malleus, completely flustered. “M-Marry?! What?!”

Sebek, on the other hand, looks as if someone just punched him in the face. His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, his eyes wide with outrage. “L-Lord Malleus, what are you suggesting?!” he sputters.

Malleus blinks, as calm as ever. “I’m suggesting marriage,” he repeats, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “If they are so attached to us, it seems a reasonable next step. Perhaps they should marry Lilia?”

Your face turns a bright shade of red as your heart pounds in your chest. “Wh-What?!” you stammer. “Lilia?!”

Sebek turns even redder, his face contorting in disbelief. “Master Lilia?!”

Malleus nods sagely, completely unfazed by both of your reactions. “Yes, Lilia. He has shown great affection for them, and they would fit well within our family. Would you not agree, Sebek?”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s an uncomfortable silence as he realizes… he can’t argue. He knows Malleus and Lilia both care about you. He knows that you’ve proven yourself to be a good person, despite his initial distrust. His mouth twitches, the words clearly struggling to escape his throat.

“I—well—Lord Malleus,” Sebek starts, looking every bit as if he’s been defeated by sheer logic. “I… I must admit… They are a suitable companion for Master Lilia… even if the idea of them marrying… well, it is quite… outrageous.”

You feel your soul leave your body as the conversation continues. Sebek can’t quite bring himself to fully agree, yet he doesn’t outright refuse the idea either. His loyalty to his lords binds him, and his begrudging acceptance of your presence has left him caught between duty and outrage.

“I—This—” you stammer, completely overwhelmed. “I—This is insane!”

Malleus looks at you with a calm smile. “Think it over,” he says, voice gentle. “You’ve already become part of our lives. Why not make it official?”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat as you see the sincerity in his eyes. This isn’t just a flippant suggestion—it’s Malleus genuinely offering you a place in his family. But the idea of marrying Lilia? That’s… that’s a whole new level of madness.

“I—I think I need to lie down,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your temples. “This is too much.”

Malleus chuckles softly, and even Sebek seems to relax—if only a little. But as you glance between the two of them, you can’t help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Even with all the absurdity, you know one thing for sure: you’ve found a place with them, whether you intended to or not.

The cat was just sitting there. Innocently perched on the branch, fluffy and regal like a tiny, judgmental king. You don’t even know what possessed you, really. Maybe it was those huge, adorable eyes or the way its tail flicked back and forth. But somehow, someway, you ended up halfway up a tree. Climbing a tree. For a cat.

“I just wanted to pet you,” you mutter, feeling slightly ridiculous as you hug the branch for dear life. “And now I’m stuck. Great.”

The cat stares at you, completely indifferent to your plight. You sigh, glancing down at the ground, which now seems alarmingly far away. Heights were never your thing, but in the moment, with that cute little furball teasing you, logic flew right out the window. Now, you’re clinging to the tree like a cowardly kitten yourself.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” you groan. The cat blinks at you. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault!”

And then, because fate has a terrible sense of humor, you hear a voice from below. A familiar, unmistakable voice—playful, with a hint of amusement laced through it.

“Well, well, what do we have here? It appears my dear little beastie has gotten themselves stuck.”

You nearly slip off the branch as you glance down to see Lilia standing at the base of the tree, arms crossed and an infuriatingly amused grin on his face. He looks every bit the mischievous fae, eyes twinkling with barely suppressed laughter.

“I—uh—this is—” You stammer, trying to come up with some kind of excuse, but nothing comes. You’re halfway up a tree. Because of a cat. No explanation is going to save your dignity now.

Lilia tilts his head, chuckling. “Were you planning on living up there from now on? Or should I assist you in returning to the ground?”

“Hey, don’t judge me!” you huff, cheeks burning. “The cat—look at the cat! It was really cute, okay?”

Lilia glances up at the feline, which is now licking its paw in complete disinterest. He raises an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, the cat. I see now. How could anyone resist such a noble creature?”

You groan, feeling your face get even hotter. “I—um—I might need help getting down.”

Lilia’s grin widens. “Of course, my dear. I was planning on catching you anyway.”

You freeze. “C-Catching me?”

“Mmhm. Just jump down, and I’ll catch you,” Lilia says, his tone so casual, as if catching people out of trees is just something he does every day. He spreads his arms out, waiting expectantly.

Your heart races as you eye the distance between the branch and the ground again. It’s not terribly high, but… still high enough to make you nervous. But Lilia’s standing there with that easy confidence, and the thought of staying stuck in this tree forever doesn’t exactly appeal to you either.

Taking a deep breath, you inch closer to the edge of the branch. “O-Okay. I’m going to jump.”

“Go ahead,” Lilia says, his voice soft. “I’ll catch you.”

With one last look at the disinterested cat, you finally push yourself off the branch. For a split second, there’s nothing but the rush of air—and then you feel yourself land securely in Lilia’s arms. You’re caught. Easily, gently. Like it was nothing at all.

He looks down at you, his face much closer than you anticipated. “See? I told you I would catch you.”

You’re breathless for a moment, your heart doing flips as you realize just how close you are to him. His arms are around you, holding you steady, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his clothes. He’s staring at you with that soft, amused smile, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of just how handsome he is.

“Oh no,” you whisper to yourself, “I’m swooning.”

Lilia raises an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“Y-You’re really smooth,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Like, catching me so easily and looking at me like that. It’s—it’s really unfair.”

He chuckles softly, clearly entertained by your flustered state. “Unfair, you say?”

“Yeah, like—like, you’re so effortlessly cool and charming, and I—” You freeze, suddenly realizing what you’re saying. You clamp your mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words are out, and your brain has completely short-circuited.

And then, before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out of you in a panicked rush. “Okay, I like you! No, wait—I think I’m in love with you! I mean, how could I not be? You’re so amazing, and I just—Oh god, I’m confessing! I’m confessing right now, aren’t I? This is a confession. Oh no, this is terrible. I didn’t mean to—”

You feel your entire body heat up as you bury your face in your hands, completely mortified. Of all the ways you could’ve confessed your feelings to Lilia, this had to be the worst possible way. You weren’t ready! You were supposed to be calm and collected, not blurting it out after getting caught in a tree!

For a moment, there’s silence. And then, you hear the softest chuckle from Lilia. His arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer.

“You’re adorable,” he says, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You peek through your fingers, confused. “Huh?”

“I’ve known for a while that your feelings for me were more than friendly,” Lilia continues, his smile gentle. “But hearing you confess like this… it’s endearing.”

You blink, trying to process his words. “Wait—you’ve known?”

Lilia nods. “You’re not as subtle as you think, my dear.”

You groan again, hiding your face in your hands once more. “This is so embarrassing…”

Lilia laughs softly, and before you know it, he leans in and presses a light, gentle kiss to your forehead. Your heart skips a beat, and you lower your hands, looking up at him in surprise.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Lilia says, his eyes soft. “I’m honored to be the one you’ve chosen.”

Your heart flutters as his words sink in, and you realize that, despite your mortification, he’s… accepting your feelings. He’s not teasing you or brushing it off—he’s genuinely acknowledging your confession. And more than that… he’s reciprocating.

“Lilia…” you whisper, your face still burning with embarrassment, but also with a warmth that you can’t quite describe.

He leans in a little closer, his nose brushing against yours. “You don’t need to say anything more, my dear. Just know that I feel the same.”

And with that, Lilia closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your heart race even faster. All thoughts of your earlier panic melt away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the feeling of being completely safe in his arms.

As he pulls back, you’re left staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless. Lilia smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection.

“So,” he says, his voice teasing, “was that worth climbing a tree for?”

You blink, still dazed from the kiss. “I… I think so.”

Lilia laughs softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the ground. “Next time, though, perhaps we’ll find a more dignified setting for your confessions, hmm?”

You groan, covering your face again as you mutter, “Please don’t remind me…”

But despite your embarrassment, you can’t help the small, giddy smile that creeps onto your face as you realize that, somehow, things turned out perfectly anyway.

You sit with Lilia on a bench beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the same one he caught you from, nerves simmering beneath your calm exterior. He’s as composed as ever, leaning back against the tree with a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

Across from you sit Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, all three watching you with varying degrees of curiosity—Malleus with calm interest, Silver with that sleepy, gentle acceptance, and Sebek with what you’re sure is the beginning of a tirade bubbling just beneath the surface.

“We have some news,” Lilia says, breaking the silence with his usual playful tone. His hand slips into yours, squeezing lightly. “About us.”

Malleus’s eyes light up with interest, his draconic gaze honing in on the subtle intertwining of your hands with Lilia’s. “News?” he repeats, leaning forward slightly. “What sort of news?”

You exchange a glance with Lilia, and he gives you a nod, as if to say go on, it’s safe. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and blurt out, “We’re together. Like, romantically.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Malleus’s eyes widen, his entire face brightening with delight. “Truly?” he asks, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face. “That is wonderful news! You will be joining the family then?”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by how happy he is. “Uh, well—eventually, I guess. We haven’t exactly planned a wedding yet…”

“But when we do,” Lilia interjects smoothly, eyes glinting with amusement, “you will be the first to receive an invitation, Malleus.”

Malleus beams, the delight practically radiating off him like sunlight. “I would expect no less. To witness your union—ah, it will be a grand day.”

Meanwhile, Silver gives you both a small, approving nod. His expression is calm, though there’s a softness in his eyes that shows he’s happy for you. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. “Father deserves someone who makes him happy. And you… you seem to do that.”

Your heart warms at the approval from Silver. “Thanks, Silver,” you say, offering him a smile in return.

And then there’s Sebek.

For a moment, he just stares at you and Lilia, his mouth working as if he’s trying to form words. You brace yourself for the inevitable protest, expecting him to shout something about how inappropriate it is, or how you could never be good enough for Lilia, or—

“You…” Sebek finally speaks, though his tone is less outraged than you anticipated. He scowls, but there’s an undeniable hint of reluctant acceptance in his eyes. “You’re together, then?”

Lilia nods, his smile never wavering. “Indeed, Sebek.”

Sebek inhales deeply, closing his eyes as if preparing for some kind of inner battle. You can almost hear him wrestling with his instincts, wanting to object but also unable to deny the truth of the situation. After a long pause, he finally exhales and mutters, “Well… I suppose… if it makes Master Lilia happy, then…”

You’re about to breathe a sigh of relief when Sebek opens his eyes again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “But that does not mean you should grow complacent! Just because Master Lilia has chosen you does not mean you are exempt from proving yourself worthy!”

Lilia laughs softly at Sebek’s stubbornness, and you can’t help but grin. “Of course, Sebek,” you say, teasing him lightly. “I’ll do my best to live up to your high standards.”

Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “See that you do.”

Despite his bluster, you can tell he’s not truly upset. There’s a begrudging acceptance in his stance, the same way someone might finally accept that their favorite hero isn’t perfect, but still worthy of respect. Sebek might not be able to fully wrap his head around the idea of you and Lilia being together, but deep down, you can tell he doesn’t disapprove. Not really.

Malleus, meanwhile, is still beaming. “I look forward to your wedding,” he says, sounding genuinely excited. “It will be a grand celebration. And I will be the first to celebrate your union.”

You laugh, finally feeling the tension melt away. “You’ll be the first to get an invitation, don’t worry.”

Lilia squeezes your hand again, his eyes warm as he looks at you. “Indeed,” he says softly, “and I think it will be a lovely celebration.”

As you sit there, surrounded by Lilia’s peculiar little family, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. For all their eccentricities—Malleus’s dragon-like mannerisms, Silver’s sleepy but sincere approval, and Sebek’s stubborn loyalty—you’ve somehow found yourself among people who care. Who, in their own ways, are happy to see you and Lilia together.

And as you glance at Lilia, who’s still watching you with that fond, amused expression, you realize something important: this makeshift family of fae and knights… they’ve accepted you.

Flaws and all.

The living room felt a little too tense for your taste today. You were sprawled out on a chair, arms crossed, listening to the absurd conversation that seemed to have spiraled out of control.

Malleus, sitting at the head of the table, had the "serious prince" expression that made you roll your eyes every time you saw it. Lilia was perched on the back of his chair, his legs dangling, thoroughly amused by the current predicament. Sebek stood in his usual soldier-like stance, ready to protect everyone from... squirrels, apparently. And Silver was doing his best to stay upright while leaning on a wall. He was losing that battle.

“It’s time to discuss the prophecy” Malleus said, his voice carrying an ominous weight you found ridiculous. “The Squirrel Plague will bring misfortune. Entire kingdoms will fall to their tiny paws.”

You blinked. “We’re seriously talking about squirrels?”

Lilia nodded with an overly grave face. “Indeed, my dear. Squirrels are resourceful creatures. Vicious even, if the stories are true.”

Sebek puffed up his chest, eyes blazing with his trademark fervor. “MY LORD, IF THOSE RODENTS BELIEVE THEY CAN THREATEN YOU—"

You leaned forward, waving your hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, let's not hype up the squirrels too much, okay? This whole situation is ridiculous.”

Silver, who had just about managed to pry his eyes open, muttered, “It’s not just the squirrels. I heard some people talking about... uh, the Saint being accused of spying or something.”

The room fell into silence for a second, everyone digesting that little bombshell.

Lilia’s grin widened as if the idea of spies delighted him. “Spies, you say? This is getting quite intriguing.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no thanks. Squirrels are bad enough, but spies? I’m not dealing with this.”

Malleus turned towards you, a slight frown on his lips. “I assumed you wished to stay here. You haven’t mentioned wanting to leave before.”

You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, I don't have any attachments to this place. I stayed because you guys were here. But right now, let's bounce. Immediately. The squirrels can have this place.”

Silver, rubbing his eyes, nodded. “They're right. It’s a lot of hassle, and honestly, the squirrels are starting to weird me out. I saw one trying to chew through the wall this morning.”

Sebek turned to Silver with his mouth agape. “A SQUIRREL DARED TO ATTACK OUR DOMAIN?!”

Lilia chuckled, nodding. “They’re getting bolder, indeed. I even had one throw an acorn at me this morning. It was a declaration of war, I tell you.”

You waved your hands at them. “Guys, seriously. I don’t care if we’re at war with the squirrels. I just don’t want to be here. Briar Valley sounds much nicer, doesn’t it? No plagues, no spy accusations, no rabid rodents.”

Malleus blinked at you, then slowly smiled. “If you wish to leave, then there’s no reason for us to stay. I thought perhaps you'd not want to leave the place you grew up in, that you would be attached.”

“Attached?” You gestured dramatically at the window, where you swore you could see a squirrel watching with beady little eyes. “Nope. I’m only attached to you four, and I’m not risking my life for some acorn-flinging rodents.”

Silver yawned, already giving in. “I say we go. Less hassle, more sleep.”

Lilia gave a theatrical sigh leaning on Malleus. “Well, I suppose the adventure ends here. Back to Briar Valley it is! And I’ll be sure to bring along some acorns... perhaps we can keep the spirit of battle alive.”

Sebek, his voice still full of misplaced enthusiasm, nodded fiercely. “IF MY LORD DECIDES TO RETURN, THEN I SHALL ENSURE OUR JOURNEY IS WITHOUT PERIL! THE SQUIRRELS SHALL NOT—”

You interrupted with a grin. “Yes, yes, Sebek. You’ll protect us from the squirrels. Good job.”

Lilia hopped off Malleus’s chair, already halfway to the door. “I’ll go prepare the portal. Who knows, maybe we can get there in time for the fireflies.”

You got up too, stretching and giving one last look at the living room. “I think I’ve had enough of prophecies, plagues, and espionage.”

Lilia grins "Maybe we could have our wedding in Briar Valley". Malleus, now entirely on board, nodded with regal finality. “Then we shall return to Briar Valley. I trust the squirrels will not miss us.”

Lilia snickered, and you felt him squeeze your shoulder. “Perhaps we should bring a souvenir,” he mused. “A squirrel, perhaps, as a reminder of this peculiar little chapter of our lives.”

You shook your head, laughing. “I think I’d rather forget it altogether.”

With that, you and your four favorite Briar Valley residents left—leaving behind the squirrels, the spies, and every bit of drama that had nothing to do with you. Peace, it turned out, was just a portal away.

With that, the group made their decision—no heroic stand against the prophecy, no attempts to sort out spy dramas. Just a swift, sensible retreat to where things were far less complicated. And honestly? That suited you just fine.

Alright! I liked writing this a lot, It's not as chaotic as my other isekai ones but I like how it turned out!

Also if the formatting is off, I'm so sorry but I fell spectacularly on my ass while ice-skating and can't sit long enough to edit on my laptop.

Also quick poll for the next trash novel one, I'll definitely finish all of them, this is just for which one should I post first. They're all almost done.

Series Masterlist ; My Masterlists

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia twst #lilia x you #isekai #fem reader

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female-hysterics · 7 months ago

Note

Stormkobra-5 asked:

sets food down carefully* Fuck or die scenario, you say?!?!

Okay, picture THIS!!!

You and Steven have been been crushing on each other for MONTHS, okay??? And neither of you have made a move yet because you’re both Shy As Fuck™️ or smth, and you end up trapped in some ancient Greek tomb on a mission— my nerd brain is thinking of stories where stuff like this actually happened in some myths I can’t remember which ones atm but— after decoding the inscriptions on the temple that state the victims must either consummate OR get crushed by a ceiling of spikes that descends if they don’t within like an hour or two or smth 🙂🙂🙂 Indiana Jones style traps I guess XD

IDK I haven’t thought of any actual scenarios tbh just the PORN—

Alternatively, I offer you Steven trying an aphrodisiac and he turns into a total dom, and I’ll leave your imagination to run wild 😈😈😈

Oh jeez... 🥵 I honestly don't know which one I like better.....��

Dom Steven has my heart SO

Steven taking the aphrodisiac innocently, not realizing what it is, and by the time you do realize what it is he is gone. His eyes are both soft with adoration and burning with pure lust while his hands effortlessly strip you of your panties and yank your shirt and bra down enough to free your breasts.

"I just have to feel you, love. Let me just come inside your tight little cunt, take the edge off, yeah?, and then I'll fuck your throat like a good girl," he all but growls in your ear while bending you over his desk, sending a small tower of his books toppling over, and your head is spinning at his words and you are positively dripping for him.

He does exactly that, fucking you deep and hard until you are seeing stars until he spills inside you with a hurt sound deep in his chest, and then you are on your knees with his hands fisted in your hair and his cock buried in your throat while you drool and choke and moan his name. Steven seems to twist you in every position possible, even some that leave you flushing in embarrassment, but he is ravenous for you. His touch desperate, words filthy as he grunts them into your flesh, and you can't help but notice how hot his skin is. How his hands tremble against you, how his eyes are glazed, and this heart is fluttering like a hummingbird in his chest. You are worried for him, but with each orgasm he drags from you your brain become more and more fried.

Everything eventually becomes a blur at one point and you are lost in a sea of heat and euphoria. When you come back to reality you are a sticky naked mess, body limp and laying sideways on the destroyed bed with Steven curled up behind you, and you dimly realize that he was still holding himself inside you. His breathing was even, skin cooled down to a more reasonable temperature, and his heartbeat is a strong steady beat.

"Was a bit rough, wasn't I?" He suddenly whispered against your shoulder and your throat is raw as you try to croak out a response.

You feel him twitch inside you and then he slowly starts to roll his hips in slow sensual waves that make your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves up from where it was resting on your breast and curls around your throat gently, tilting your head back until you could pant against his open mouth, and you didn't even have the energy to grasp at his arms as his hips continued to snap against you deep and slow. He groaned against your lips.

"A little longer, love. Let me fill you just a little longer."

#Steven Grant #Moon Knight #marvel cinematic universe #steven grant headcanons #steven grant x reader #oscar isaac headcanons #oscar isaac x reader #Oscar Isaac #the void answers

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estrellami-1 · 1 year ago

Text

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Just then Eddie walks in, raising his brows at the veritable mountain of food Steve and Eleven are putting together. “What’s all this?”

Steve smiles warmly at him. “Hey, Eds,” he says, which is certainly an experience. He’s spoken roughly twice with the guy—in his memory—but Steve’s three chapters—nay, three books ahead. Eddie is Frodo, about to embark on his first journey, and Steve is Bilbo, or even Gandalf: someone who’s done this all before, whose eyes carry the weight of worlds.

Speaking of, Steve’s eyes dim slightly the longer Eddie takes to answer, so he waves his fingers at Steve, trying to ignore the swoop in his stomach when Steve’s smile brightens again. “So… what’s this?”

“Dinner,” Eleven answers. “We are making sandwiches.”

Eddie nods, because sure. Why not. “Okay.”

“How’s the song coming?” Steve asks, and the swoop returns, because not only is Steve asking, but he’s asking about Metallica, and Eddie’s gay, metal little heart can’t take it.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, grinning. “It’s so good, oh my god. I mean, it’s gonna take a bit to learn, but it’s gonna be the most metal solo I’ve ever done.”

Steve’s smile dims again. Probably because he’s remembering what happened last time, i.e., Eddie’s death. Eddie pushes down the queasy feeling.

“Eddie,” Eleven says.

“Yeah?”

She turns to face him. Her eyes are more serious than any twelve-year-old’s eyes have any right to be. “You will be okay,” she says. Then, apropos of nothing, “And I can move things with my mind.”

Eddie blinks at that. Apparently his face is doing something, because Steve chimes in. “She can.”

“I can show you,” she volunteers.

“Anything but the utensils,” Steve says in a distracted voice, like this isn’t the first time he’s had this conversation. Eddie wants to laugh hysterically, or maybe cry. Smoking a joint seems like the best third option, except all his stuff is at home. Fuck.

Then she does, lifts a whole cutting board—complete with tomatoes— and moves it over to him. He resists the impulse to snatch a piece and eat it. He doesn’t even like tomatoes, what the fuck, brain.

Steve’s watching with an amused little smile, like he can somehow read Eddie’s mind. That legitimately wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen today, so Eddie does his best to stop thinking about it, because he doesn’t think he can deal with more than one real-life superpower right now.

“I need that back, El,” Steve murmurs, and she grins at him before zipping it back over, stopping it just before it hits his face. He nods, brows raised, impressed. “Nice control. Put it down and go wipe your nose, please.”

She does, Steve watching her as she goes, fond little grin on his face. “She’s a good kid.”

“She can move things with her mind.”

“Yeah. Honestly, that’s one of the easier things to get used to. Y’know one of the craziest things, to me?”

“Do I want to know?” Eddie asks hesitantly.

Steve just grins at him. “Jonathan Byers has this baseball bat that he sticks a bunch of nails in.”

Eddie blinks at him. “What the actual fuck.”

Steve nods. “I took it, sometime back during the first year. Actually,” he thinks about it, “what month are we in?”

“Um. October.”

Steve winces. “Great. October…”

“Um. Twenty-fourth.”

Steve hums and thinks. “In about… less than a week, actually, I think—I don’t really know, the concussion messed up my days—oh, hey!” He suddenly says excitedly, then raises his voice. “Rob!”

Robin pops her head in a moment later. “What’s up?”

He grins at her. “No concussions!”

She stares. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. “Holy shit!” She says. “No concussions!”

“No memory loss!”

“No hearing loss!”

“No eyesight problems!”

She freezes. “Steve. You were having vision issues?”

“Um. Not anymore?”

She groans. “Since when?”

“Um…” he thinks, tilting his head toward the ceiling. “Billy, I think. At least that’s the first time I really noticed it.”

She sighs. “I’m going to murder you.”

“Are not.”

“In cold blood.”

“Are not.”

“Nancy’ll help.”

Steve considers this. “She might. She’d be good at it.”

They both pause for a moment, then Robin turns to leave. “I’m gonna go make sure Jon doesn’t give you a concussion this time.”

“Have him make the nail bat, too!” Steve calls as she leaves.

“What,” Eddie says desperately, “the fuck.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

#stranger things #if I should stay #pre steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #el hopper #Robin Buckley #platonic stobin #steve and el #el just wants to help #Eddie’s doing his best not to freak out every other second #he’s trying yall #starambles

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httpsryu · 2 years ago

Text

kites : part 2

pairing : kim minji x fem! reader

summary: both you and minji both decide to run for class president in order to prove one another on who's the brightest but it also happens to be the exact time a certain someone decides that her silly heart beats for the other

category: enemies-to-lovers(ish?), high school au

genre: slow burn(?), fluff, and angst tiny amount or not

warnings: competitive and jealousy, kind of makes you feel single ;-;

a/n: be sure to check out p.1 of kites

minji clears her throat, sitting straight up in her desk as she tells herself that she doesn’t have a crush on you.

yeah, she was just tired, that’s all. (no, it isn’t)

however, she didn’t get any sleep at all last night because even though minji wanted to rest, her tired brain decides to think about you and your dumb smile. that already speaks a pretty high medium.

“bro! bro! bro!” hanni runs in the class, panting as she sits down in her seat.

the other hums in response.

“shin yuna confessed to y/n out this morning!” hanni shockingly exclaims.

what?

shin yuna, otherwise known as the school’s breadwinner for soccer, floor ball, and volleyball.

the whole female and male population would kill to even have the talented athlete look their way. and honestly, it’s no surprise if you accept her confession because yuna always gets everything she wants.

but why would yuna confess to you?

for all minji recalled, she’s never seen you hangout with the year 4 student.

but then again, who wouldn’t confess to you?

you were always hardworking, never letting anyone take advantage of you when it came to your education, and you viewed every assignment as an opportunity to grow.

you’re pretty too. especially when your hair is half-up and half-down, framing your face beautifully. or when you come to school with glasses that’s a tad big for your face but nonetheless, everyone still finds you adorable. at least, minji does.

minji shrugs, trying to look disinterested in the topic of you. “and you’re telling me this why?”

“it was romantic, bro!” hanni clasps her hands together, leaning her cheek on them as she remembers the way everyone was screaming at the interaction this morning.

“yeah? how romantic?” minji asks, knowing the chokehold romance has on people.

especially you.

“well, yuna walked up towards her at her cube box and handed her a letter with a small bouquet of roses.” the other replies, smiling again. “she also gave y/n her letterman as a form of respect.”

minji wanted to laugh. you dislike roses, you’ve always preferred lavenders and orchids more. you weren’t a big fan of letters either because you’ll just end up giving them back graded.

“and apparently, she accepted.”

“oh.”

at the mentioning of one’s name, y/n walks in, linked arm-to-arm with rei.

however, the only thing that minji’s eyes landed on was the letterman bunched in your hands.

she observes the way you place your books down first before sitting, observing the way you let go of your best friend’s arm once you realize class is about to start.

“i can’t believe yuna went for it! look at me playing matchmaker!”

at hanni’s words, minji turns towards the other.

“w-why are you looking at me like that?” “minji?”

what minji didn’t observe was the way you subtly sneaked in a glance at her.

“why do i have to be there to help you with the campaign again?” wonyoung whines, barely being able to see with two bins full of poster papers, markers, and other fun stuff in her arms.

you laugh, tip toeing to pat your best friend on the head. “oh my sweet wonyoung, did i tell you that yujin is also going to be in the art room as well?”

“oh hail y/n.” wonyoung smiles while she tries her best to place a kiss on your cheek. “thank you! thank you! i love you!”

you screech, backing away as she comes closer to you.

“come onn~ you know you want a kissy from wony.” the taller teases.

shaking your head at your best friend’s antics while laughing, you didn’t seem to realize that you two were still in the hallways where many students are on their way towards walking home.

feeling the back of your shoes bumping into something, you suddenly lose balance and gasp at the feeling of falling. wonyoung’s eyes widens as she drops the bins, her arm reaching out to catch you. however, it’s too late as someone else holds you from behind, their arm securing around your waist.

wonyoung gasps, seeing the hero of the day as she puts her hand over her mouth to contain her squeal.

it's finally happening.

"i got you." the voice from behind gently says, her hold still on you.

you're taking in everything all at once. from almost falling to your death, seeing your best friend's failed attempt at reaching out for you, and being caught in the arms of the girl you despise the most.

"y/n?" minji asks, trying her best to sound gentle in order to not startle you.

you rush from releasing yourself out from her hold, turning around to face her. "thanks, kim..."

avoiding the stare from her, you gaze down at the girl's shoes, which has a scuff on from you. you feel your cheeks heating up at the mere thought of being clumsy in front of her.

minji feels as if someone punched her in the stomach, speechless from the way you look so cute in front of her. "oh. i-it's whatever."

"i'm sorry about your shoes." you look up, trying to ignore the way her stare suddenly makes you feel.

the taller shakes her head, letting out a half smile (she's trying to playing it cool). "it's okay, y/n."

"cool." you respond, gasping once you suddenly remembering about wonyoung and the dropped bins.

minji takes notice of your concerned face, placing a hold on your shoulder to relax you. "everything okay?"

"yeah, it's just wonyoung was holding the bins and-" you turn around to find no wonyoung but only the dropped bins.

oh, fuck her.

"looks like she left you here to clean up by yourself." minji looks down at the bins as well, walking over towards them and kneeling to pick up the dropped materials. "i can help lend a hand if you don't mind?"

minji is different from the image you always had of her.

maybe because today she isn't glaring or staring directly at you like she hates your guts. she's actually taking time out of her day to help you...

without realizing it, you let out a nod, while you too, kneel besides her to pick up the materials off of the ground.

you don't notice but minji sneaks a subtle, quick glance at you, the suffocating air makes her realize that maybe this is more than a sudden attraction to you.

she gasps silently at how obvious she was looking at you, panicking as she starts to grab whatever off of the floor. accidentally, touching your hand while you went for the same marker as well.

"oh! sorry!" minji pulls her hand back, wanting to hit herself for the stupidity.

you let out a small shrug.

minji glances down at her watch.

5:45 pm.

that was the exact time when minji finally realized she definitely and surely does have a crush on you.

with a heavy inhale, minji holds her breath before stepping into her homeroom teacher's office.

"oh! minji, what could i help you with at this time?" the mid-twenties woman looks up from her clipboard with a cheerful smile.

minji bows at her teacher, fidgeting with her hands while trying to come up with a way to break the news. "i-umm..i want to forfeit out of the class election."

"but it ends tomorrow, minji-ah."

"that fast?"

the woman nods slowly, understanding the sudden pressure that the students are developing from the race. "the rules was two days maximum to get a good campaign running, along with a speech."

"and i won't be able to forfeit? i haven't started anything yet."

"i'm afraid it's too late, the only ones running are you, y/n, and jungwon. it's only fair to have three instead of two."

curse ms. ahn (not literally though).

the female student disappointedly nods before once again bowing. "i understand. thank you for informing me."

ms. ahn smiles apologetically, waving bye at the student.

welp, there goes minji's plans now.

the said girl sighs, disappointed with how she couldn't forfeit running for class president. she leans against the wall, sliding slowly to the floor slowly while groaning in frustration.

"woah, what's going on with you?" a voice distracts her from her thoughts.

looking up, the girl is faced with all four of her best friends.

minji slightly frowns. "i'm not allowed to drop out from running for class president, bro."

"wait-drop out?" hanni exclaims. "but i thought you always wanted to be class president?"

the older shrugs. "I only wanted to be class president because i thought only the smartest person could won, which would prove i'm a lot smarter than y/n."

"uh huh...?"

haerin quietly observes the way minji's facial expressions appeared upon saying your name. and the cat eyed female wonders why minji is deciding to throw away her lifelong dream of being class president because of you.

until, it hits haerin at the fact that minji could be hopelessly and stupidly in love with you.

"but now, i realized it's stupid and that y/n definitely deserves it more than me, the title of being number one." minji sadly says, looking down at her shoes and a smiles upon her mouth at the scuff on her left shoe, precisely. "she's so hardworking and determine, ever since we were young. and we could've been great friends but i ruined it first."

friends, huh?

that was the biggest lie minji has ever said. she wants to be more than friends with you. but, everything is too late. minji feels like she's one second behind.

"well, if anything could help, how about you help out with y/n's campaign instead? you know..like secretly?" danielle suggests, hoping her best friend head lifts up slowly. "she's been struggling on coming up with an idea for her posters."

increase the chances of you winning? why didn't minji think of that earlier?

"oh my gosh, wait! that's a genius idea!"

"wow, you're so smart." hanni looks over at the other australian.

danielle nods with happiness, her smile bright as the sun while haerin softly lets out a hum at how pretty her girlfriend is.

minji quietly sighs while looking at the two.

it's not unusual for others to come talk to you, however, it's not common either.

all morning, everyone you passed by or made eye contact with stopped you to ask about why you rejected yuna.

"geez, they really need to stop bombarding you with this subject." wonyoung rolls her eyes.

you nod in agreement.

"omg, i heard from others that they saw minji hanging up campaign posters and they looked amazing." a passing student gossips with her friend, earning your attention. "i won't be surprised if she wins for her class."

WHAT?

stopping in the middle of your tracks, frightening your best friend besides you, you gasp.

"MY POSTERS!" releasing yourself from wonyoung's grip, you panic before making a run towards the art room to print out the posters you came up with yesterday.

wonyoung stares at your back, shaking her head in disbelief at how you always do things last minute and manages to perfect your grade.

the only thing on your mind while sprinting full speed was ways to gather more attention on your campaign instead of your arch nemesis's campaign.

upon seeing the room, you slow down a bit.

"oh! y/n, what are you doing here? i thought you already printed out your posters?" seeun brightly asks, running into you at the entrance. "they look amazing by the way!"

posters? huh?

"what do you mean? i haven't printed out any posters yet.." you tilt your head to the side gently, leaving the upperclassman in awed and she clearly understands why her friend, yuna is having a rough start to her day.

seeun purses her lips out, remembering clearly what minji told her. "really? minji told me that you asked her to print your posters out first thing in the morning."

kim minji.

"oh. i guess i did." you reply with a strange tone. "i'm going to get going then! bye seeun-sunbae!"

and before the older could bid your goodbye, you were already off.

"that kid." she giggles at your antics before returning on refilling the printers with paper.

minji didn't expect to find you standing in front of her desk to say the least, yet here you stood in front of her with evident anger from your expression. she amusedly crosses her arm, eyeing you from head-to-toe with a strange glint in her eyes.

"bro, you're in my view." minji tsks with her tongue.

"b-bro?" you're honestly appalled she has the audacity to call you bro when she tampered with your campaign posters. "you think you're allowed to sit in your seat right now?"

the older girl raises her brow in confusion. "excuse me?"

"why did you print out posters for me?" you ask with anxiety suddenly flooding over you. "is this one of your sick games, minji?"

minji stares blankly at you, trying to process everything that happened between the both of you. "i-i didn't mean to mess with anything."

"you wanted to prove you're smarter than me that bad, huh? you're always going to be the same kim minji since primary school."

minji opens her mouth to say something, however, you start walking away from her desk. hearing you mumble something along the lines of "i need to transfer".

"bro, what just happened?" hanni asks besides her. "i thought you made and hung up posters for her?"

the other watches your back leave with a sad expression.

"i did."

what went wrong? minji swore she made sure no one else was in the school when she hung up the posters in fear of others switching up actions or hence making up rumors.

"i need to go!" the female stands out of her seat, ready to follow after you.

of course, time is the enemy for kim minji because the bell's tone rings throughout the school indicating that school is now starting.

"good morning class!"

what about you, though?

you glance down at the view of seoul from the school's rooftop, closing your eyes in the process as the wind gently blows across. inhaling the air and exhaling shortly afterwards.

opening your eyes, you lean against the railing while you couldn't help but to think about the other student; kim minji.

you assumed the unspoken rivalry between the both of you has gotten squashed but the other assumed something else.

it's always been like that since primary school so why does it bother you so much?

"i knew i could find you here." a voice appears and immediately you roll your eyes from irritation and anger starting to form inside of you.

the person sighs, not hearing a response from you.

"y/n...i never meant to tamper with anything, i care about you way too much to do that."

you budge a little, still not believing her words. why should you?

"i-i'm still not sure how to tackle this." minji says from behind, her footsteps coming closer from behind. "especially because someone else is interested in you."

you furrow your brows from the other's words.

"what are you talking about, kim?" turning around to face her, however, before you can take the chance to see her, you space out once you feel a pair of lips against yours.

this kiss, you're confused on if it's actually happening. once or twice, you've wondered what it'd be like kissing kim minji - everything is all slow and soft and it's all like a dream however, you reciprocate the kiss.

getting pulled back in reality when you feel a strong hold finding your waist, you can't help but to snake your arms around her neck. you notice the way minji's kissing turns to a change of going faster and deeper, a bit desperate to say the least.

but in a flash, the warmth between your lips leaves. minji gasps, taking quite a few steps back away from you.

"fuck. i-i don't know what came over me. i shouldn't have done that." she says, looking down at her scuffed shoes.

"what?" you ask in a whisper tone-like voice.

minji closes her eyes, wanting to hit herself. "i'm sorry."

for some strange reason, you feel tears welling up in your eyes. humiliation becoming your strong opponent and you too look down at the ground.

"i think i should head back." minji sighs to herself, feeling like the worse person right now.

before you could respond to her, the older is out in a scurry.

watching the emptiness in front of you, you couldn't help but to touch your lips with your fingertips and feeling the other's touch still lingering.

minji rushes towards to the canteen, her heart still beating very loudly to focus on anything, her face definitely flushed as she can't stop shaking from nervousness and guilt as well.

"fuck. fuck. fuck." she mutters, biting on her thumb while she walks towards the lunch table where her friends are sitting, ready to dive into their food.

hanni tilts her head slightly, wondering why minji took long to use the restroom. "bro, you okay?"

"yeah." the other replies while taking her seat, wincing at the way she sounded a little too harsh. "sorry."

the australian shrugs to the others before she opens up the lunch that her mother packed for her.

haerin notices the way the oldest isn't touching any of her lunch, her leg constantly bouncing up and down from some sort of anxiousness feeling. she also observes on how minji's face has a slight and faint flush to it.

what the hell happened in that restroom? (if minji even went in the first place).

"rin? everything alright?" danielle asks upon seating besides the kitty-eyed female.

haerin lets out a hum in response, scooting closer to her girlfriend and resting her chin on the other's shoulder.

"have any of you seen y/n yet?" wonyoung places her lunch tray on the table, along with rei and jiwon.

minji tenses up at the your name.

"she left home room since school started." hanni replies, concern glowing down on her face. "why? is everything alright?"

rei pouts, shaking her head. "she isn't answering any of our calls."

"today is her favorite lunch menu too." jiwon softly sighs, looking down at the food for today with a sad look.

wonyoung constantly stares at the canteen's doors from her seat, scanning for the sight of you. "i'm sure she'll come around. y/n never vanishes on us like that out of nowhere."

minji couldn't bare to make a noise.

for the second time in a row, lunch doesn't taste as good because you weren't there and minji knows that it's all because of her.

as all the students gather in home room for the announcement of the winners, minji stares at the door of the room. her eyes doesn't budge, manifesting for your figure to walk through.

"still no sign of your girlfriend yet?" hanni teases, wondering why minji is so concerned of her so-called rival.

"shut up."

the universe must be in the favor of the female because at the exact moment, you appear right in front of her eyes.

but..why do you look upset?

"oh. she doesn't look too well." the vietnamese-australian purses her bottom lip out in sadness at your expression. "maybe because the others won't stop pestering her about rejecting yuna."

YOU DID WHAT?

"rejecting yuna?" minji asks, looking at the back of your pretty head.

hanni nods, her eyes lighting up at the gossip. "it happened yesterday at the softball field."

why would you reject yuna?

a small hope in minji's heart yearned at the possibility that maybe you reciprocated the same feelings as her but another part of minji's heart is telling her that you probably like someone else.

however, after all, you did kiss her back.

that has to mean something, right? RIGHT?

"oh my gosh, where were you? we were looking for you." rei exclaims, hand over her chest as if all her worries finally floated away and relief took over. "jiwon was so close to filing a missing person report but wonyoung managed to convince her not to."

you let out a small laugh at how your best friends are, letting out a squeal the second rei wraps her arms around you and placing small friendly kisses on your head.

"i swear if jungwon gets vice president and not you, i will genuinely throw a tantrum." hanni comments, looking at the way the male student is running around with his banner wrapped around him like a cape.

minji besides her lets out an uninterested hum, squinting with her eyes at the sight of you and rei getting a little too comfty.

"welcome back from lunch, class!" ms.ahn barges through with a bright grin and a clipboard. "who's ready for three awesome students with their three amazing speeches they wrote?"

after jungwon finished up his speech, claps floods the room and whistles from his friends are echoing throughout. "thank you everyone!"

"that was wonderful, i'd believe up next we have y/n." ms. ahn's direction trails over to you.

you're not sure why but in this exact moment, you feel like you're suddenly sweating gallons and gallons and your heart is pounding like crazy at the sight of seeing all your peers looking at you in anticipation. it feels as if someone wrapped a hand around your stomach and you didn't like that.

somehow, you want to win. not to prove to minji that you're obviously the smarter one but the feeling of winning and being the student to where others ask for help makes you want to win. so bad.

minji notices the way blood is drained away from your pretty face, she takes a glance down at your feet tapping rapidly against the glossed floor.

"y/n? are you okay?" she gently whispers, one of her hand ready to grasp ahold of yours.

you bring your hand away from within her reach, giving her a glare before walking up to the "podium" to do your speech.

minji feels a part of her chest shattering at your action but she knows she probably deserves that. especially, after kissing you and escaping before you, yourself could say anything.

besides, she kissed you without your permission.

"hi, homeroom G-32. ummm-i'm sure everyone knows who i am, haha. to tell the truth, i'm only running for president because i wanted to prove to someone over a childish banter but also while preparing for this speech, i learned that i suddenly want to be the type of person who is willing to sacrifice their own being for their fellow schoolmates." you look up and let out a small smile at the way you gained their attention. "i can't promise you all anything when it comes to pizza for lunch nor getting extended due dates for papers the way jungwon did. however, i can promise you with the fact that i will succeed in the rest of this school year an unforgettable one."

minji couldn't help but to softly and proudly smile at you.

"y/n, that was amazing." ms. ahn says in awed. "last but not least, minji."

you let out a bow, walking back to the spot where you stood previously. you feel a certain pair of eyes on you, to which you ignore with your head held up high.

"hello everyone, it's minji. i didn't prepare anything, oops." the other girl giggles to herself, her smile looking too mesmerizing to you. "and to be honest, i did try to forfeit out of running."

what?

scattered gasps are heard throughout the room, leaving the teacher to shush them and for minji to proceed.

"i know, shocking, huh?" minji understands why the others are surprised, she has always been evident of running for president ever since she was a child so where is all of this coming from now? "if you guys haven't know, a certain someone and i have been in this ongoing rivalry..on who's the smartest. i'm sure you all know who it is..and honestly, all throughout my years, i felt the need to show them that i was the most brightest one. i honestly don't know why either. and i guess that's why i always wanted to run for president, just so i can 1up her."

"i'm not up here to win for anyone's votes, i'm up here to let you all know that kang y/n is a wonderful, responsible, beautiful, and reliable human being that would make an amazing president for this homeroom. thank you." minji bows at the class.

what the fuck?

if anyone needs any pity votes, it should as hell should be jungwon and not you.

"well minji, i am surprised by your speech." ms.ahn says, finally understanding the reason the student wanted to forfeit as she takes notice of minji's gleaming eyes when you look at her. "okay class, now on the piece of paper i've handed out, please write down your vote."

that feeling is coming back into your stomach and suddenly you feel a drip of sweat running down your forehead from the hot air surrounding you.

"y/n?" the voice you strongly dislike asks in a whisper.

you want to ignore her, but you can't.

looking up from the ground, you're met with the older's eyes staring down at you with a weird look in her eyes.

"are you nervous?" minji takes notice of the way you're slightly trembling from either the air or because you're anxious of the sudden quietness in the room while the class votes for best pick.

before you could answer her with a nod, the back of her hand is already reaching to dab the sweat away with the sleeve of her uniform.

"t-thanks..."

minji smiles softly at you, not missing the way there was a kite softly flying out the classroom's window.

cliffhanger :P

update! pt. 3 is out as well! you can find it on my master list :)

#new jeans x reader #kim minji #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #new jeans imagines #minji imagines #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

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lucajayms · 1 month ago

Note

i sincerely apologize for the rant

pre bullets gerard plsplsplspls!!!! they have an office crush at cartoon network then she moves away without telling anyone and they replace her (CUBICLES BEST SONG EVER) so then he just keeps wondering what may have happened, until mcr are playing like in another city during revenge era then mikey sees her in the crowd before a show and he goes to gerard right before going onstage and its like hey gerard remember that girl you talked about 24/7 in 2001, shes here tonight. and gee just freaks out while trying to play down the whole performance becase hes scared she wont like the whole fake blood/gay/screaming thing. then they finish the performance and he goes to find her and shes like all happy bc she knew he was gonna do much better things than to work at a shitty office. and shes a big comic book artist and does really weid like blood and vampire stuff so shes so happy that gerard also does weird blood vampire stuff. and then theyre happy and then the umbrella academy happens and yea

yea youre free to ignore this, i just have too much free time to imagine shit like this 👍

HELP I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH!

CUBICLES

gerard way x reader she/her used use of y/n

masterlist

warnings: swearing!

"Maybe you could draw her more like this to bring out the background more so she's not just stiff," I instructed him. Gerard is a very talented artist, he just has a little bit of trouble deciding what to put where.

"But I feel like if she was a little different, due to her design, she'd go flat," Gerard argues, putting his pencil where he was describing.

I sigh as I place my hand delicately to my chin, trying to see what he's talking about. The deadline is soon and he's not done pitching these characters. "Honestly, Gerard? Whatever feels right. You'll get her."

"You sure?" He asks, seeking confirmation in my words.

I smile, nodding my head, "Yeah. Deadline is tomorrow, just do whatever feels right!" I say before I'm off to my cubicle to continue my project.

I knew he was looking at me. For weeks now, it had become a pattern—one I could almost draw if I could figure out how to capture that lingering gaze in ink. He thought he was subtle, keeping his distance and asking me barely relevant questions about some “project” or “character design” he’d been working on. Gerard was charming, though; there was no denying that. Quiet, a little too good at staring at his desk, and adorably oblivious to how easy it was to read him.

“Hey, uh, (Y/N)?” I looked up from my sketchbook, where I’d been mindlessly drawing a graveyard scene—something I had an odd fascination with lately. Gerard was standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, wearing that awkward half-smile that looked better on him than it should.

“Gerard,” I said, glancing up with a smirk. “To what do I owe the honor?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I…uh…just wanted to see what you were working on.”

I flipped my sketchbook shut, even though I knew he was dying to see what I’d been drawing. “Just some stuff. You’d probably think it’s too creepy.”

“Try me.”

Maybe it was because I wanted to test him, see how he’d react to what was under the surface, but I opened the book back up and turned it to face him. His eyes widened as he took in the vampires, blood, and dark cemeteries I’d sprawled across the pages.

“You…actually drew all of this?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my cool. “It’s not much. Just whatever’s in my head.”

He laughed, this soft, surprised sound. “Whatever’s in your head is amazing.” He paused, his eyes lingering a second too long.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair. “Well maybe not everything, Way.” I tossed my pen onto my desk, feigning nonchalance. “Can’t have too many weirdos like me around. Bad for the office’s reputation.”

And that's why I left.

Maybe I should’ve told him I was leaving. I hated the idea of going without a goodbye, but part of me figured I’d see him again. He’d get over it. Life had a way of carrying people in different directions, and honestly? I couldn’t stand the thought of another month behind that desk. I needed to be somewhere I could let these ideas out, somewhere that didn’t expect me to keep my weirdness behind a closed sketchbook.

The day I left, I watched the office fade from my rearview mirror, fingers tapping the steering wheel as a familiar guilt crept in. I didn’t leave him my number or my address or even a hint of where I’d gone. Some part of me hoped he’d figure it out. But after that, there was just silence.

Gerard

She left without a word. Just…gone. I tried to keep going like I didn’t notice, told myself it wasn’t a big deal. But the absence gnawed at me, creeping into every sketch and unfinished character. (Y/N) was gone, and I had no clue where she’d gone or why. I stopped asking questions after a while, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The thought became like an echo in my mind, constant and inescapable, pushing me to drown it out with anything I could find.

And I did.

One show after another, one drink, one line, whatever I could find to keep the silence at bay. The stage helped a little—at least there, I had the lights in my eyes and the noise blocking out the mess in my head. I’d stand in front of the crowd, hands dripping with fake blood, trying to exorcise whatever pieces of myself felt missing. But then the high would fade, and I’d be left in a dark room, trying to ignore the question that refused to die.

Where did she go?

I kept the band going, kept pretending it didn’t matter, kept letting the weight build. It wasn’t like I had any choice. The shows were packed, and the screams of the crowd felt like both a relief and a punishment. They had no idea. No idea that some days, it felt like I’d never get off this damn ride, that maybe I’d crash and burn right here. But something shifted in 2004. I couldn’t explain it—maybe it was seeing my friends’ faces or feeling the burn of another empty night. But I knew that if I kept going like this, I’d lose everything. I’d lose myself.

I finally made the decision to clean up, and in August 2004, I was clean. Free. My body hated me for it, and my brain wasn’t much friendlier, but I had to get clean. I couldn’t keep living on the edge of destruction. Every day after that, it felt like I was shedding pieces of the person I’d become just to survive. By the time I left, I was…well, I was alive. And that had to be enough.

It had been nearly a year since I’d gotten clean, and for the first time, it felt like I could really breathe on stage again. I could look out at the faces in the crowd and see them. Really see them, not just the blur of movement and lights I’d been numbing myself to. This was what I’d always wanted. This was where I wanted to be.

"MANHATTAN!" I scream into the mic and the crowd before more goes wild. "We are going to FUCK SOME SHIT UP TONIGH!"

And as I say that, Mikey plays the beginning of Give Em' Hell Kid. The set goes without hiccups, the crowd is perfect, and the most I've seen in a few weeks. Right as we leave the stage before the encore, Frank grabs me by my collar.

"Holy shit, Gee," He starts, and concern bubbles in my stomach. Did I do something wrong?

"What? What is it?"

He shakes his head vigorously, "I don't know if I'm tripping, but I swear to God I saw the girl you keep drawing in the crowd."

Fuck.

"What?!" I exclaim.

"Thirty seconds to encore!" One of the stagehands yells.

"Frank, where did you see her?" I ask, frantic. There's no possible way she could be here tonight. Why would she be here tonight.

"Our left, by the barricade. I think?" He explains, looking up to recount exactly where he saw her. My heart thuds against my ribcage as Frank’s words sink in, and I feel my throat tighten. (Y/N)? Here? After all these years?

"Ten seconds!" the stagehand yells, clapping his hands. Mikey shoots me a quick look, and Frank gives me a small, reassuring nod. There’s no time to think or even process—I’m barely holding onto the last traces of composure as we rush back on stage. I grab the mic, trying to get my focus back on the crowd, but every nerve in me is lit up, wondering if (Y/N) is really here tonight.

“MANHATTAN!” I shout again, forcing energy into my voice, hoping it’s enough to cover the wild surge of emotions that’s slamming through me. “YOU READY FOR ONE LAST ROUND?”

The crowd screams, and the band jumps into Helena, the encore I should be ready to pour my soul into. But all I can think about is her—her face, the way she used to sketch, her laugh. The lights are blinding, and I try to keep my focus on the crowd, but my eyes keep searching, desperate to find a glimpse of her. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but by the end of the song, I swear I see her—a flash of her hair, bright eyes, her face half-turned away in the crush of people, but unmistakably her.

The song ends, and we give a final shout before exiting the stage. As soon as we’re out of sight of the crowd, I turn to Frank, breathless.

“You’re absolutely sure it was her?” I ask, gripping his shoulder.

“Fuck, I don't know how accurate your drawings are,” he says, his voice serious. “Bit it was her, Gee. I’m sure of it.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe, running a hand through my hair as the adrenaline surges through me again. "Where do I even start looking?"

Frank raises an eyebrow. “I’d start by getting your ass back out there before she disappears again. You just finished the show. You’ve got maybe five minutes before the crowd starts spilling out.”

I don’t waste another second. I dart down the steps, half-running, half-pushing past crew members as I head toward the audience exit. It feels like the longest, most insane few minutes of my life, weaving through the backstage area until finally, I’m in the thick of the crowd, scanning every face I can. And then—I see her.

She’s lingering by the side of the barricade, glancing around, half-smiling to herself like she might leave at any moment. She’s a little older, a little different, but I’d know her anywhere. I take a deep breath, feeling my hands start to shake, and then I call out, loud enough to cut through the noise.

“(Y/N)!”

She turns, her eyes finding mine, and for a moment, it’s like everything around us goes still. Her face lights up, and I swear I feel that same electricity that ran between us in the office all those years ago.

"Oh my god, you guys did so good!" She laughed, too, shaking her head. “Gee, look at you! Rockstar Gerard. I always knew you’d end up doing something wild, but I never expected…” She gestured at my blood-stained shirt and smeared makeup. “This.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, heat creeping up my face. “Yeah, well, it’s, uh, a little different from Cartoon Network, that’s for sure. But I never thought I’d see you at a show.”

“Oh, please,” she grinned, giving me a playful nudge. “I knew you’d be doing something big. You were always too talented to be stuck behind a desk, remember?”

I laughed, surprised by the surge of relief that came with her words. “Guess it’s been a while since anyone told me that.”

She softened, and something flickered across her face. “I'm sorry I disappeared. I had to move, and things got in the way, and…” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged, a little awkwardly. “I never thought we’d run into each other again.”

“Same here,” I admitted, looking down. “But I’m glad we did. Even if it’s, uh…” I glanced at my blood-streaked hands, shaking my head. “Like this.”

She laughed, a bright, genuine sound, and I felt my nerves ease a little. “Honestly, I kind of love it. I’m doing comics, Gee. Lots of, you know…gory, bloody, vampire stuff. Seems like we’re both into weird stuff now.”

“Every time I go into a comicbook store, I look for your name.” I say, feeling a familiar spark of admiration light up in my chest.

��Yeah, well,” she shrugged, but her smile told me she was proud. “I kept drawing, kept pushing for it, and here we are. I got some stuff out that's been somewhat successful, but you—you’re the one really living the dream.”

It felt surreal, standing there with her, years and miles from where we’d left off. She was still (Y/N)—the girl who got me, who somehow saw through everything. But she was different, too. Confident, sharp, like she’d grown in ways I never got to see. And she was right here.

We fell into silence, the crowd thinning around us. Finally, I took a deep breath. “You know, after you left…I wasn’t great, to be honest.”

Her brow furrowed, and she gave me a sympathetic look. “I figured,” she said quietly. “It was a pretty messed-up time for both of us.”

I nodded, knowing she got it. “Yeah, I got pretty lost for a while. It took me…a lot to get back on track, but I’m good now. Clean, you know? And I’m just trying to keep my head on straight, one show at a time.”

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “Good,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “That’s what you deserve, Gerard. You don’t need anything dragging you down.”

I felt something click into place then—a kind of peace I hadn’t felt in years. “Thanks, (Y/N). Really.”

She grinned, glancing around like she was taking in the whole scene again. “Hey, I think we’re due for a major coffee catch-up. I want to hear everything.”

I chuckled, feeling that old sense of ease wash over me. “Deal,” I said, grinning back. “But only if you show me your sketchbooks. I wanna see all the vampire blood and gore.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You got it. Only fair, since I’ve got a feeling you’ve been drawing me for years anyway.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, and together, we walked out into the night, talking like no time had passed at all. And this time, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

(Y/N)

What a fucking life. Leaving Gerard like that in 2001 did something to me, you know? Fucked me up. I felt really fucking bad.

But it's okay. We're good. And by good? I mean my boyfriend is the fucking lead singer of My Chemical Romance. Like, who gets to say that?!

After their final tour ended, Gerard was bugging me more and more about his comic that he was writing and that he desperately wanted me to illustrate for it. Apparently, he had been working on it for around three years, and he wasn't getting anywhere by himself.

"I don't know, baby. I got deadlines," I always say, but God, who could say know to that pretty face of his.

And so I finally agreed to illustrate The Umbrella Academy.

And boy, did that change my life.

#my chemical romance #mcr #fanfiction #gerard way #frank iero #gerard way x reader #mikey way #my chem #mychemicalromance #ray toro

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yellobb · 1 year ago

Text

Had book club discussion about Carry On today! Here’s some of the highlights:

People were mostly a big fan of the Magic system. Main criticism about it was that it would sometimes take them out of it, like the snickers spell while ebb is actively dying

There was much discussion over Penny and Baz kidnapping the dog, which was very entertaining to me

One of my managers asked if Agatha was in the rest of the series. I told her “she is, but I don’t think she wants to be”

People loved Baz lol. There was a bit less love for Simon (that’s okay, that’s what I’m there for)

I explained the lore behind Fangirl and why the titles are the way they are. Thoroughly confused some people

Someone had to leave the zoom call halfway through because his neighbors called the cops on his van???? Idk that was just wild

One dude who showed up also didn’t even finish the book yet, which I didn’t find out until partway through, so that was fun

They noted some Harry Potter similarities, but agreed it was a very different book

Number one complaint was that “nothing happened”. They were really interested in the politics of the world, how relationships were formed and were pretty disappointed that a lot of that was exposition

One coworker was confused as to why Nico couldn’t do magic anymore, since they mentioned he used to be able to use Ebb’s staff and honestly I don’t remember the answer, so help here would be great if anyone knows. He should be able to even though they snapped his wand, right?

One coworker was frustrated that Simon lost his magic because he thought that was the most interesting part. I told him that he was not alone in that, since I remember so many people being upset back in the day

Everyone saw the plot twist that the Mage was the bad guy coming. Tbh, I read it so long ago that I can’t remember if I was surprised

Everyone also saw snowbaz coming lol. One guy said “I knew by chapter three that those two would be fucking” (oh just you wait my friend. Soon the issue will be that they’re not fucking)

They found it very entertaining that the endorsement was from Lev Grossman because “The Magicians is the polar opposite of this book”

I brought in Skee’s ABC’s of Carry On, Venessa’s art book, the whole series, Fangirl, Scattered Showers, MRB, and various pins from Selkie and others. Also wore my dragon wing earrings and Kris’ shirt :P I let myself be unhinged about it because this is my time to shine. I also have the Wayward Son poster pack at my desk that I pointed out

Overall reviews are positive. Most people didn’t love it quite like I do, but they enjoyed it well enough. I am lovingly forcing two coworkers to finish out the series because they made the mistake of being my friend lol

One guy’s review was “I liked it and I don’t know why. I hate Harry Potter and stuff like it usually.”

Very happy that this is done though, since I can finally hang back up Kris’ Carry On poster. It has too many spoilers, so I’ve had it on the ground hiding for two months for when people came over 😭 it’s going back in its place of honor next to my TV

#m rambles #the simon snow series #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz

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stateswscarlet · 2 years ago

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Hi Scarlet! I saw your twt bio said no dms so I thought I would share my successes here that I got from your threads and content!

Bit of a background: I hovered over from the a+p girlies after affirming for 9-10 months for all my desires, using everything they taught and even putting full faith into thoughts and science manifesting. I would affirm almost nonstop (during work, school, even as I was eating/talking to others) for the entire time and I eventually got super frustrated! Not a single manifestation came in or even the slightest movement, maybe a butterfly and a car here and there (looking back at it its because I accepted seeing them internally and didn’t contradict that state, it wasn’t even the affirming). In March-ish I found your account on my timeline and previously I would ignore any states related information because I thought states were the same as dominant thoughts, but something about your thread at the time caught my attention which led me down a rabbit hole (positively!) of consuming your threads. I realized a lot of it actually made sense and explained why I didn’t see success so far.

Anyways so after a few weeks of learning about states I decided to stop overconsuming and stick to your account and edward art ONLY for all my manifestation needs. It was a little hard breaking free from the affirming mindset but I decided to focus on embodying how it would feel if I no longer had to worry about my thoughts and allowed that to wash over me. I used your “embody being the solution” thread SO SO much and I realized I was able to quickly solve all my internal issues using that because anytime I felt stuck, I just had to assume the feeling of being unstuck and what the ideal situation would be! I also fell in love with fulfilling my imagination and although I did care about experiencing it in the 3D, it was more like me not even thinking of it reflecting because its a LAW. I remember you saying you don’t even have to think about stuff reflecting because it does so anyways and my only role is to naturally give it to myself. So here is a list of some of my *bigger* manifestations that came in within a month-ish of me APPLYING states of being after I learned about it:

SP and I got back together after 8 months no contact and 11 months separation

My top choice graduate school which rejected me months ago actually reaching out to me offering me a spot saying the rejection was a “system error”

Free coachella tickets all expense paid in a luxury hotel that sponsored not only me but my boyfriend and 3 friends

My favorite makeup brand randomly sending me a HUGE package of makeup that I never ordered or asked for (I wanted more makeup from this brand)

My dad receiving a random check to clear his entire credit card debt of around a decade

A better job for my boyfriend that pays him double of his last one and has flexible hours that he didn’t need to apply for or interview and hes been loving it!

Free first class plane tickets to Bali this summer! I had already booked normal ones months before but last week I got an email saying my party had randomly been selected for a free upgrade. This happened like a day or so after I for fun assumed the state of someone who has a live of luxury.

I have other smaller successes but these are some of my main ones!I really want to thank you scarlet you have honestly changed my life and I can’t believe it truly was that easy all along! Thank you for your amazing threads, please continue dropping more (I literally have your notifs on haha)

AWW YAYYYYYAYAYS IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT!! You’re absolutely amazing🫶🏼

I dont even use this platform but just thought I would share this ❤️

#law of assumption #neville goddard #embodyingstates #manifesation #loass

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underqualified-human · 2 years ago

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Pomefiore + Octavinille: Siren S/O

→ Request: Hello, I love this book so much. Can we have a gn!/fem!siren!reader with Octavinelle and Pomefiore? Headcanon please. It’s fine if you don’t wanna or can’t, I just love sirens.

→ A/N: Fun fact: My Yuusona is actually half-siren so this was a super fun prompt! [wasnt sure which type of siren you wanted so I kept in sort of vague]

→ Warnings: no beta,

→ Fandom: Disney: Twisted Wonderland

→ Genre: Headcanons

→ Pronouns: They/Them

Vil Schoenheit:

Power couple, immediate power couple

Posts a bunch of pictures of you guys together on his Magicam account [if you’re okay with it]

Spends a bunch of money on wing/tail care products that you might need

Tries to use his charm on your sisters/family and they are having absolutely none of it lol

Is initially very curious about your singing but understands your apprehension completely

Adding on to the previous point he defends you against people that may have a negative view on sirens [earns him a few points with your sisters]

Rook Hunt:

Wants to hear you sing so much that it rivals Odysseus

”You know you'll die right?” “It'll be worth it”

Knows you get a lot of compliments based on your looks, so he waxes poetically about your personality

Acts the exact same way around your sisters/family so you’ll have to stop them from killing him

Super into learning about how you care for your non-human appendages

Epel Felmier:

He lives in a semi-landlocked area so he doesn't think it’s that big of a deal

Super nervous about meeting anyone in your family

Won't admit it out loud but definitely wants to hear you sing

Gets a little defensive when he sees people getting too close to you in public

If you have to care for your wings he goes “Don’t worry I’ve dealt with chickens before!” then backtracks if you get offended

Azul Ashengrotto:

Power couple vibes but he's secretly dying on the inside whenever he's near you

Immensely insecure, please reassure him

Wants you to sing at the lounge but then remembers it makes people kill themselves :(

Has discussions about the ocean with you, even if he doesn't have many positive memories associated with it

He knows how important family can be, so he’s absolutely terrified to meet them. While the Pomefiore group doesn't know much about sirens, the mers do.

Please defend him if your sisters/family says something rude, he will not do so himself

Honestly kind of bad at caring for tails or wings since he only has tentacles, but he tries his best

Floyd Leech:

Knows what would happen if you sang but still wants you to do it anyway

Talks to you about random land stuff that he thinks is cool

Brags about you to anyone who will listen is close enough. It’s usually the basketball club

You introduced him to your family and like 5 more ships got sunk that day. They want you to bring him around more often

Isn’t all that good at helping you with tail/wing care, but he does try

Jade Leech:

Power Couple #2

If you guys walk down the hall students part like the red sea

Shares a bunch of information about land plants [mushrooms] with you. You have no choice but to listen, he won’t take no for an answer

Subtly uses the fact that he’s dating a siren as leverage when dealing with customers

Helps you groom your tail/wings

Gets along pretty well with your sisters/family. He knows that they could kill him, but he trusts you enough to not be afraid

Tagging: @angelchanisaweeb [requester]

#aries writing #vil shoenheit x reader #vil x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader

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saneabandoned · 6 months ago

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Diving into Star Wars: The Clone Wars

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

This seems to encapsulate the whole seven seasons of the series Star Wars: The Clone Wars. If you haven’t seen it, haven’t heard of it – in short, it’s an animated series set between Episode II and III of the prequel saga. However, the aim of this is not to be a guide – you can go to Wookiepedia for that; this is supposed to be an essay – analysis, some kind of a deeper-ish dive into the philosophy and meaning of the series, that frankly is one of the best things to happen to this film universe, perhaps ever. I have, time and again, tried to explain for myself the meaning it carries and just why it has me in such a strong chokehold, but I have failed, or at least haven’t reached a conclusion. Maybe it’s not possible, maybe it’s just the magic of being a fan – you see and feel things not everyone would understand, because it speaks to you on some personal level, that even some (more chill than me, at least) fans won’t be able to entirely relate to. I have yet to meet a person as obsessive as I am over all kinds of different media – don’t get me wrong, even though Star Wars is without a doubt my favourite universe, there are many more I have indulged in, wrote about, watched, listened, theorized and all that good stuff throughout many years. But as I have recently come to realize, I have spent the last ten-ish years of my (not that long, to be fair) conscious life thinking about this universe, this whole galaxy (pun absolutely intended) of characters, morals, and plots.

Speaking about morals, that’s where some of the importance of The Clone Wars comes for me personally. Ever since I can remember, Star Wars has been a huge deal in my life – I watched the movies at a very young age (thanks, mom!), but started reading more and more into the whole world as I got older. I thought I’d reached the peak somewhere in high school when I would literally rewatch the prequels every single weekend, and the OG movies about once a month too. I just found it mesmerising, I always have – being a person with a huge imagination, that never quite stops working (and that’s caused me some trouble as well), I found a haven in this world, a place where nothing is too weird, everything is just so brilliantly imagined and thought of, written and painted so vividly, that it feels like someone has taken the insides of my brain, turned them into a whole painting, adding stories, characters and just overall putting into words and pictures the things that I can’t really understand and explain for myself. I found a mirror in this world, a sanctuary for all my thoughts. I used to listen to the soundtracks whenever I felt anxious, and it would transport me directly into the universe I felt so safe in. It was an escape from reality; still is – not that reality was or is particularly scary or unbearable for me; but sometimes I wish I was elsewhere; somewhere where there is courage, bravery, adventure, love, all the things I longed for while being quite honestly, mostly a bored teenager at school.

I have always loved writing, loved expressing my thoughts, putting them into words (as is becoming obvious by this text) and have always greatly appreciated when films, books or other media would reciprocate that – when the words on the screen or the page would feel like I wrote them myself, so true, so real, so incredibly close to me, that I would get literal shivers and wonder if telepathy is actually possible. But hey, that’s The Force for you!

As of now, I have just finished completely rewatching the whole Clone Wars series and as always, I have many thoughts on it. The first time I watched it was right after the final season came out because at that time, and especially during the pandemic, I was going deeper than ever into my interests, rewatching all my favourite things, while also searching for new ones to keep me from going absolutely insane (I think I maybe have succeeded in the opposite though). So, stumbling across this series, I thought I’d give it a try. The rest is history – after absolutely and hungrily devouring it, I continued to Rebels, and every other possible piece of media under the sun. Fabulous times.

Now, one thing I’d like to make clear – I’m not a pro. I am not in any way a certified critic, a writer, or any other sort of person authorised to make such an analysis. I am but a fan, a fan for whom this universe means more than I could ever hope to be able to put into words; a fan who after years of contemplation, has reached a point where I can’t keep it inside any longer. I’d love if this piece of writing makes it out in the universe, reaches as many people who enjoy Star Wars as much as I do, but even if not, I am writing it for myself, I am trying to step out of my comfort zone, reach deep into myself, and in a life of struggling with the loudness of my thoughts, trying to put something down, manifesting my emotions and creating something physical from them; these characters that mean so much to me will never be real, I can never hope to speak to them, touch them, or see them in real life. They have although shaped me as a person and largely formed my psyche and morals, view of the world, inner monologue, even some of my characteristics.

So nevertheless, for me they are more real than a lot of people I know are.

***

To begin, I don’t intend to focus on the Jedi’s role in the war – it is of course vital, but I think the discourse about that is to be found more detailed in relation to the movies, namely the prequels, as CW is very much about the clones themselves. When I first started watching it, I will be honest, I didn’t think I’d find what I ended up finding – and that is such depth that I couldn’t imagine finding again, after being a fan of the movies, both OG and prequels, for so long. But was I wrong!

But let’s start with Ahsoka, since I started by mentioning the Jedi and she is one of the first new characters to appear (besides Rex and many others, of course). First, I wasn’t convinced that I liked her much – she was a bit of an annoying youngling for the first few seasons, after all. I wanted Anakin and that’s about it. Well, I got what I wanted, I think, as I am firm in my opinion that Anakin’s arc is so widely explored that you get a whole another view of his character, something I didn’t think was possible, after all – isn’t the entire saga about him? It is, but still – what I saw in CW, through characters such as Ahsoka and Rex, contributed so much to Anakin’s development as a character and leading force in the saga as I don’t think anything else ever did in the movies, any of them. So, yes, I got what I wanted, but also, I got so much more – Anakin is not my main point of discussion here, I think as main of a character he might be in this series, he is not THE main one, at least not for me. And as Dave Filoni is quoted saying – The Clone Wars is about Ahsoka and Rex.

Who are they? That was my main wonder when I first started watching – why would I care about a random clone captain and a youngling? They are both not present in the movies, and the clones themselves have very little personality there, they are just side characters, until they end up executing Order 66, which is of course devastating. But after watching CW, I completely changed my outlook on it, but more on that later. So, Ahsoka and Rex – admittedly, in the beginning, I didn’t find that much since it’s just mainly classic Star Wars battles and a loose plot that is not absolutely VITAL to the end result but brings so much deeper insight into the clones’ personalities, and ultimately through that to the whole feel.

What I really find devastating about this series is the nagging feeling of doom you inevitably carry with you – you spend so many episodes and seasons watching your favourite characters win numerous battles, you root for them, you cry and laugh with them, you grow so attached to them; but you know how the story ends, you’ve seen Anakin become Vader, again you know about Order 66, you know the Empire rises after all and Palpatine’s plan works – and every time you hear someone say “you’re going to lose this war”, you hope for the opposite, but you know they’re right and there’s nothing to be done – evil wins in the end of this. And as I read somewhere – this is a story that happened a long time ago – it’s over, it has already happened, there is no hope, at least in this series, which I find frankly terrifying. Amazingly done, but still heartbreaking.

Clones, war, and choices

The point about choices and what it means to be a soldier gradually becomes more and more pronounced as the show goes on – one amazing example of this is the Umbara arc where the 501st is led not as usual by Anakin, but by Pong Krell (who later turns out to be a traitor of course). This is one of the darkest moments in the show, as clones are made to kill one another, to sacrifice themselves without reason, and for the first time to face an incompetent, and frankly evil general, and to choose to disobey. This is for me a crucial moment, as the clones have never before chosen to disobey direct orders – they were, after all, made to comply and to follow what their generals tell them to.

"I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you. That's how they engineered us. But we're not droids. We're not programmed. You have to learn to make your own decisions."

But here, we can see the conflict – especially in Rex, as he is the captain and has to face the general and answer for his deeds. He looks him directly in the eye and tells him they are not willing to go on a suicide mission, that they will not follow his orders, after he’s made them fight and kill their brothers unknowingly, and even ordered Fives and Jesse to be executed. However, Rex struggles with killing Krell, when he decides to; he orders him to kneel and points the blaster at his back but is unable to fire the shot. Once again, Star Wars proves that its plot has much deeper nuances and philosophies; for the first time here, we are faced with the harsh truth – the clones are people. We know that, but it somehow gets lost in the movies, as the focus there is on the Jedi’s end, which is just as tragic, of course. But before now, no one has considered what it really means to be a clone. They were made for war, they were made to die, their lives and their deaths were planned. Are the Jedi and the Republic, in that case, really the “good” side? That’s what I, at least, started to reflect on when I reached this point in the series, and it changed my whole outlook on the saga, on everything I have seen thus far. Yes, I still think the Jedi are cool and whatnot – but did they not deserve what happened to them for so blindly exploiting their soldiers? They didn’t know about Order 66 of course, and Palpatine is in no way right – but how come the Jedi are innocent in this? I don’t think they are, at least not fully. They could’ve stopped so much suffering and helped so many more clones, if not for their narrow views, which are all the reason for the clones’ suffering, Ahsoka’s leaving and consequently, Anakin’s betrayal.

"Sometimes in war, it's hard to be the one that survives."

Oh, Cody, Co-dy! The friendship the clones and in this case – Rex and Cody – share is truly precious and very accentuated in this arc especially (here the first arc of the last season) – it is Cody who Rex confides in about not wanting to lose any more brothers, as he knows he is one of the few ones who will understand him fully, what it means to be a soldier, to have to live with the morals of war, to have never known anything but loss. This is what makes Rex dive and slightly recklessly (thank God) search for Echo, proving that he’s alive, saving him from the tortures. They are brothers, and they never leave their own behind. But he is not possessive or jealous, and when he senses Echo’s pull towards Clone Force 99, he is ready to give him the push he needs to join them. He knows his brothers, as I said, and he knows the trials of war, so if Echo will feel even an ounce happier with this squad, he deserves it, after all he’s endured – “If that’s where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."

Therefore, I love the Skako Minor arc and Echo’s retrieval, not only because it sets up the ground for The Bad Batch (I’m not even going to begin trying to explain what it means to me, as it deserves to have another huge debate on its own), but because it shows Rex’s devotion to his brothers – all of them. Even though he tries to be just a soldier, to live through the deaths, he still cares immensely, and that’s what makes him a good captain. His bravery is unmatched, he is always the one leading his men, and looking out for them, because he knows his men, he stands and fights side by side with them, and he’s ready to die on the battlefield, thus setting the example for everyone.

The philosophy of war is extremely complicated – this is what I enjoyed so much about the series (and the movies of course, politics and war is the main theme), among all other things; the fact that we see war as destroying, as a necessary evil, as a tragedy by itself – but war also created life in this case and its ending brought much more death than any of the battles ever did.

"The mission... the nightmares. They're finally... over."

I’m sorry, but I think I have never witnessed anything as remotely tragic as Fives’ arc – Palpatine told only him the whole truth, fully knowing no one would believe the clone hasn’t lost his mind; but the sacrifice the trooper made ultimately saved so many lives, mostly Rex’s, one of his closest friends. Fives never got to reunite with Echo but losing him made Rex realise how important every brother is to him, and in consequence, he never gave up on any of them (not that he was inclined to do so before of course). In his last sane moment, Rex begged Ahsoka to “find Fives”, and she understood. She knew the clones better than anyone and knew exactly what that meant and never doubted it for a second. Fives saved her life, too.

Fives’ arc is the first time the show begins to become darker and more sombre – it is also the point when we as spectators begin to realize what Order 66 actually means, having seen before only its results; but this time we see its execution, through the eyes of the clones themselves. They are forced to kill all Jedi, after being their most loyal soldiers, and honestly – incredibly loyal friends as well. They can’t control it and it’s not their choice – but that doesn’t mean they don’t realize what they’re doing – Rex said he couldn’t help it; Wrecker said he tried to fight it (The Bad Batch); Bly shot Aayla so many times, so she wouldn’t suffer and her death would be quick; Cody didn’t even check if Obi-Wan was dead; Wolffe didn’t kill Plo Koon. They were people, they were made to do inhumane things, but they found a way, they made a choice, so that they could somehow live with it after.

We get all of this through the clones’ perspective, rather than the Jedi, and it’s just as painful, if not more – we are used to hearing “the army betrayed its generals”, but what happens when we realise, they couldn’t do anything about it? What happens when we see the struggle, when we can almost feel the pain of having to betray? The clones, the most loyal creatures ever created, made for loyalty, have to turn on their generals, on their comrades, on their closest friends.

So, I come back to Ahsoka and Rex. We see them in the very first moment of the show, and they have already formed a bond, which is unlike anything else. They fight side by side the whole war – from the battle of Christophsis to the Siege of Mandalore – and Dave Filoni is truly right when he says this show is about them; but I think also in a broader sense. It is about two creatures who were destined to fight all their lives, who no matter their completely opposite backgrounds, turned out to be the same things – soldiers. Through and through, in their own ways. Their friendship transcends beyond all of this, they have a unique connection, that’s never shaken, even in the direst of moments; even years later, when they meet (in Rebels), you can feel their love for one another, the purest friendship there ever was, somehow ironically created by the ugliness of war and constant fight. Both Rex and Ahsoka suffered losses we cannot imagine – Rex says he tries not to hold on to any of his brothers, and Ahsoka is a Jedi, so it is forbidden for her to form such attachments; but we know. We see it in their eyes, we can hear it when they speak. Rex can never forget Fives’ death and the fact that he died thinking no one believed him; he ran to Skako Minor in an instant even though it might have been a trap, but the chance to save Echo was not one he was going to miss out on this time. And he saved his brother, against all odds. And he saved Ahsoka, as she saved him, time and again. Because that's what brothers do.

“I’m no Jedi” – an interesting phrase for Ahsoka and Rex to have in common, given how different both their roles and backgrounds seem to be, but it is indeed the one they unexpectedly share. Spoken first by Rex here, and then a lot later by Ahsoka in Rebels, it is highly unprovable that it’s on purpose. However, I don’t think anything in Star Wars is done without a reason, so I choose to believe there is some thread connecting them – after all it is Rex and Ahsoka, and that will always matter. What it means for both of them is simultaneously the same, yet different – Rex is the clone closest to the Jedi, there is no doubt about this; he’s used to their ways, he has as equally as strong a moral code, so it is somehow thinly implied that he acts similar to them, despite (or thanks to) being one of the strongest and most respected clone leaders. His closeness to both his general and commander is widely known, so no one seems to pay attention to the fact that he is actually a clone, as he makes his own decisions, and often chooses to fight where a Jedi would opt to step back.

Ahsoka and Anakin

For me Ahsoka became the best character in the whole saga, no ounce of doubt, sorry. She is the embodiment of the Force, she is fierce, loyal, but also incredibly wise for someone her age, and someone who is still learning. On many an occasion, she proves to be more experienced than Anakin (and in my book, experience outranks everything) and I feel like he’s learned as much from her as she did from him – if not more. She is the one keeping him sane and grounded, and I’m a firm believer that had she not left the order, he wouldn’t turn. Ahsoka’s presence brings so many new layers to Anakin’s character, that have not been explored before that and had she stood by him, he wouldn’t be able to become what he became. So, yes – ultimately, I blame the Jedi order for Anakin’s betrayal, I always have, but after watching this series, and seeing it from another point of view, I simply cannot be shaken. They took everything from him and left him alone, which has always been his weakest – he has always been this little child, terrified by the dark, later consumed by it, now unable to fight it anymore. The Jedi made him, and they unmade him too. In my opinion, he shouldn’t have ever been a Jedi in the first place – he is not like Obi-Wan, not like Yoda, not even like Ahsoka (who is not the traditional Jedi either, being trained by him) – he is so powerful and so weak at the same time, and that’s where his dilemma lays – who am I? Which side am I on? He doesn’t know, but no one is there to help him – Ahsoka included, as she (rightfully so!) leaves the order when she sees the truth about it. But she carries that guilt ever since.

She blames herself for leaving Anakin, she blames herself for not fighting alongside him when he needed it; for leaving her friend, her brother. If I were Ahsoka, I would have done the same – she was betrayed by the Jedi, not by Anakin, not ever, but still. He stood with the Order when she needed him by her side. And that is what destroys him too. The loss of his padawan, his most loyal friend is unlike anything else, and for her, leaving this life that’s all she’s ever known, transforms her view on everything. And when she inevitably returns, because that’s where she is supposed to be in order for the prophecy to happen – she must be there, but not by Anakin’s side; she doesn’t fit anywhere else, but she doesn’t fit there anymore either; and she can’t follow him, so she’s sent to Mandalore, again alongside the clones, her brothers, she goes down fighting with Rex. She’s always been his sister more than a Jedi; she didn’t ever belong anywhere else but on a battlefield. She may not be a clone, and she wasn’t meant to be a soldier either; but just like the clones, the war is all she’s ever known, and even though she was meant to be a peacekeeper, peace was something she never knew, especially after Anakin’s turn to the Dark side – even though there is no longer a war, she is forever tormented by the voices she heard in his last moments as her beloved master and the pain she felt when he left.

She knew it was over in that moment – Order 66 is by far the most heartbreaking arc of them all and I can never watch it without then spending weeks thinking about it – it’s genius, really, how Palpatine had this evil plan, dictated the whole war without anyone noticing; and it worked. It worked and changed the whole entire galaxy, and nothing could have prevented it – except maybe Anakin turning; and that is what Ahsoka can’t get over; she feels it is somehow partially her fault that the dark won; if only she hadn’t left, it haunts her forever. She doesn’t know Anakin is Vader, not until she meets him after, so she thinks he’s dead like the rest of the Jedi – and when she finds out what truly happened to him, she passes out (in Rebels; another terrific moment) because the pain is just too strong – the mixture of his known presence in the Force, and his new persona, that is torn from pain and suffering, feelings so intense and unknown to her she can’t understand them. It’s not her master, but it is undeniably Anakin. And he feels abandoned, he feels alone, he is guilty and sad and in constant pain, he is no longer there, not really, but then – he is. And the memory of what he once was, what he promised, everything he taught his padawan brings such pain for Ahsoka.

She may not think she is truly a Jedi, yet she is for me the only one of them I came to respect – she is never hypocritical, doesn’t leave anyone behind, not ever, and she fights for good, always for what she deems right, never feeling like she has to change for others, but in the end always blaming herself for their fate. She could never forgive herself for what happened to Anakin, and she can never forget her brothers, the clones, she suffers and grieves for every one of them, she knows their names, they were her whole world. And the only thing she had left, because they never judged and never tried to change her, they simply stood by her. Even when they had orders to kill her.

Rex and Order 66

Ahsoka’s master was gone from that moment on, and all she had left was Rex. The other main character, and I accept no objections to that statement. Rex is... the best one ever. He is, without any doubt, my favourite from this series. Putting aside my Ahsoka obsession, I didn’t expect to grow as attached to him as I did. Then again, I can’t separate them – for me, they are a team, the best one, and I don’t think I would have liked them as much had they not been the amazing pair they are. The connection between Rex and Ahsoka is what makes this series so different and so much better than the movies for me. It shows a level of true depth and caring that we haven’t really seen before – the type of platonic trust that few people find in their real lives. If I get to have just one friend that is as loyal, I don’t think I’d need anything more. Their story is so real, so touching and beautiful and sad – I think it is not only the best one in the series, but in the whole saga, and in any storyworld, really, for me personally. They meet a kid and a soldier, but they leave the war (or maybe the war leaves them) as equals, friends bound by experiences so unique and traumatic that they can never forget them, their bond can never be destroyed. They are soulmates, and they are forever. I don’t make the rules, sorry.

"Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war. Many people wish it had never happened, but without it, we wouldn't exist.”

Rex says this to Ahsoka moments before he is forced to execute Order 66 and it makes me shudder every time I hear it. Knowing what follows, knowing that the clones that have been created for war, are humans with so much more nuanced feelings that they let themselves express, that they fear the war ending as much as others might feel a war beginning is incredibly twisted. They are not machines, they are much more than that, they have feelings, and they have morals, and they are afraid. Rex has never doubted his loyalty to his commanders, and never gave any reason to be doubted – never hesitated, never showed anything less than immense courage and skill. But now he stands before the only person he’s never been able to deceive, and he voices for the first time what probably has been torturing him for a while – the knowledge that he is expendable, that his life might be over, and that this might be what he’s always fought for – the end of himself and his brothers. Victory and death, indeed.

Viewers have witnessed many a clone death, and these last episodes are the culmination of it all – from that point on, every favourite character is in danger. Of themselves. One thing that the series does marvellously is bring personality to so many seemingly identical characters – in the movies we never get any detail about their lives, their characteristics, even their looks – but now I could recognize Fives from Echo in a second; they might have the same features and the same voice, but they are not the same. They are brothers, forged by the same essence, they share the same blood and the same heart, but they are individuals with thoughts and passions so diverse it’s impossible not to notice, not to adore.

Rex is Ahsoka’s best friend, as she reassures him moments before everything went to hell. He is the man who stood and fought by her side, and who watched her grow up. Who, when faced with the order to kill her, removes and drops his helmet in a desperate try to fight Order 66 (perhaps unconsciously, as he is being mind-controlled), and so she could see his eyes, see his tears, his struggle, his shaking, and know that he had no choice, know that on some level, he is asking for help for the first time ever, the soldier he is – he removes his helmet so he could look her in the eyes, his best friend, his sister, his commander; and she knows.

She’d ran to him, when sensing there was something wrong – of course, Ahsoka would run to Rex, because he’s Rex, he’ll know exactly what to say and what to do, and maybe he could contact somebody who can fix this; this can’t be real, the war is almost over; she’s still a child after all, she can’t face this now, not alone, not without Rex. She’s never had to face anything without Rex, it’s just unimaginable – but she runs to him and in his eyes she sees someone who is not Rex at all, and suddenly all the men she trusted with her life more times than she can count, are not the men she knows, and they want to hurt her, and Rex wants to hurt her, even though it makes him suffer. She sees his tears; she feels in him what she never believed she would.

The parallels in their relationship are just amazing – one of their first interactions is when Rex says to her “good luck, kid” on their first ever mission together – and it shows just how much he already cares for her, how he understands that beneath all her witty remarks and wish to prove herself to her new master (and his soldiers!), she is still a kid thrown on a battlefield – an unnatural atmosphere for anyone, but especially for a young child with no experience whatsoever. From then on, they just keep getting closer and their friendship grows stronger until it reaches a point where they can understand each other without even speaking.

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay”, Rex says, moments after Ahsoka has removed his inhibitor chip and essentially saved both their lives, all while putting herself at a great risk, just because she cares and she can’t do this on her own. In this moment, in his eyes, she is again the kid he first saw, scared about her friend, trying to prove that she can do it all on her own – this parallel is so important to me; she has never been in such a situation alone before, because she’s always had Rex, and now she’d almost lost him, after just reuniting with him; when for a split second there was something in his eyes that she’d never seen before, the only thing that saved her was Anakin and Rex’s training (shown in Tales of the Jedi). Anakin taught her how to fight enemies much stronger than herself, her brothers taught her how to defend herself, not knowing that she’d ever have to, especially not against them. It’s truly heartbreaking.

“Ahsoka, it’s all of us” – just seconds after she has saved him, Rex looks her in the eyes and apologizes for almost doing the undoable, for almost killing her, for being okay when she almost wasn’t. How would he ever live with himself, knowing that he betrayed his best friend? The animation has developed so much by this point, that in this last episode, it’s almost like watching real people acting, at least that’s how I’ve always felt; it feels real, the emotion is just so intense and so palpable – especially with this being the first time Rex says her name. She is his friend, she is the only one who cared enough to save him, thus saving herself, proving again and again her loyalty, the thing they have most in common. They understand each other like no one else can, they have been through everything together, and now, in these crucial moments, they have both proven it – she never gave up on him, she trusted him enough to save him, and in return, he is ready to follow her anywhere and die protecting her. From his own men. Barely awake, he’d reached for his blasters, shooting his own brothers to protect her, not even fully conscious yet. They are equal, they have become one through the Force, and if it wasn’t clear before, it is now – they are sticking together to the very end, no matter what they must do, no matter how. They are forever. Loyalty means everything to the clones.

This and what follows on the bridge of the ship as it’s coming down, are my favourite scenes from the series.

“I hate to tell you this, but they don’t care! This ship is going down, and those soldiers, my brothers are willing to die and take you and me along with them!”

Even though it’s animated, even though you can’t see his face, and the only thing is his desperate voice, you can feel the devastation when Rex utters these words, touching his chest, as he says “brothers” – he has always cared for them, his family, and has mourned every single loss, but now, when there is no other choice, he knows protecting Ahsoka is the most important thing there is – the mind-controlled clones can’t tell apart their own from a traitor, so what’s the point?

There is always a right choice – and Ahsoka proves it, when she gently removes his helmet, only to show what everyone but also no one suspected – Rex is crying, he is afraid and in pain, and she is the only thing he cares about. He’s lost so much; he can’t lose her too. But she always has a plan, and she is probably the only one who cares about the clones as much as him; they don’t need to explain themselves; she doesn’t want to be the one who is responsible for so much death; there’s been too much already. They have lived a life of war, facing death and loss every single day, and enough is enough. She wants to live, but not at the cost of murder. There is no doubt in her voice when she says that.

Burying brothers

What follows is truly devastating to watch – Rex facing his brothers, as a traitor in their eyes, as some of them stand before him, still wearing their helmets with Ahsoka’s Togruta design on them, the colours of the 501st closely resembling her lekku. They’d painted their armour as soon as they knew Ahsoka was coming back to them and they were getting their commander, and little sister back, their best friend, the only one who cares enough to remember all their names, who never turned her back on them, even now, when they are against her, she still tries to save as many of them as possible; she’s been the one whose hand they’ve reached to when dying, their last memory on this world her face, her bright eyes, full of life and care, her presence calming them in the face of the inevitable, as she will have to do now as fell, at the very end.

How must it feel to lose everything you’ve fought and hoped for, in a span of hours? Palpatine’s plan is truly ingenious. The war might have ended, but only on the outside; a much larger, much more painful fight has begun, inside, for Rex and Ahsoka, who now have to navigate a life they haven’t ever considered; they may have wondered what life after the war might be like, but not like this, never like this; not as heroes, not even as fighters – as traitors in the eyes of their most beloved brothers and the new control of the Empire. But they choose to fight until the end, crashing down, falling with the cruiser together, hand in hand; the parallel of them hanging on to each other in the hanger is precisely mirroring the moment of Anakin and Obi-Wan trying to push each other away during their legendary fight on Mustafar, which is happening at the exact same time. But these two don’t let go, they simply cannot face losing each other, not now, not after all of this. They’ve fought for years, so many battles, losing track of what the fights are about – but this last one is clear; they are fighting for each other. And when they are the only survivors, they take to bury their brothers, and grieve the colossal loss side by side, silently watching, because there aren’t words to describe what they feel, and it’s not necessary, so they don’t speak. They know.

"I don’t want to bury any more of our brothers."

The devastation and sheer exasperation we hear in Rex’s voice when he says this much later, in The Bad Batch, when talking about the inhibitor chips nonetheless, is all we’ll ever need to know about him. Laying low after the end of the war, separating from Ahsoka, believed to be dead; in fact – being dead to the world in every sense, this is the choice he makes. He’s witnessed almost all his closest friends dying, he’s lost his general, he doesn’t have a purpose and a goal anymore; he has to deal with the realization that the war is over, but it ended at way too high a price, and he’s a soldier – he will fight every day, until the end, because it’s all he knows. He’s the most loyal soldier, survived Order 66 at the highest price there could ever be, and he can’t lose more. He wants to keep fighting, and he will, but not to lose. Rex doesn’t want to feel this awful feeling of loss, not ever again.

The same goes for Ahsoka – even though she quits the order and never officially finishes her training, the Jedi life is the only one she’s ever known, so her path even after leaving, after the war ends, and after she separates from Rex, is one lead by the code to a large extent, even if done so unconsciously. She claims to not be a Jedi when she faces her master as Vader in Rebels, wanting to avenge him; but she doesn’t end up doing it, she can’t possibly kill Anakin. So, she goes on, living in this middle ground – she is not truly a Jedi, but what else could she be? She has led her troops in many battles, fought by their side; even when they didn’t have to, they still called her commander, as loyal to her as ever; recognizing that she stood by them, even held them as they died.

When The Resolute crashes after Order 66, we are aware that her and Rex took every single one of their fallen brothers, buried them, and displayed their helmets, putting Jesse at the very front, the one who’d wanted to kill them the most at the end. But they know better, it was not him, not after literal moments before that he almost went insane from Maul’s questioning because he didn’t want to betray Ahsoka; he deserved a recognition, even in death. Every single one of them did, and Rex and Ahsoka gave it to them. She lets go now of her lightsaber, the Jedi weapon that bears her identity, and lays it to rest next to the fallen soldiers, because she doesn’t want to have any more connections to this war, there’s been enough fighting. She dies here too – for what it’s worth, she fell with the clones. I can’t imagine how traumatising and terrible it felt, pulling body after body out of the debris. For both of them.

Brother after brother.

***

No matter what I say, or how much I write, I don’t think I will ever be able to express properly what this world and this series in particular mean to me. Of course I love all things Star Wars, but The Clone Wars will always hold a very special and exceptional place among them. It is a unique feeling, one I cannot put a word on, it feels too big for me, as if there is some kind of a boundary that is at the verge of explosion, it’s holding so much emotion, and there isn’t enough space for it inside. Perhaps it’s the depth and the exploration of the clones, their relationships, the empathy their lives evoke – creatures bred for war, individuals barely recognized in life. But still human, as Rex and Ahsoka remind us of the entire time – especially when we see them watching the arranged helmets of their dead brothers – the clones have not been just pawns, they are people; people who died for a cause they couldn’t have any say in. Their lives were not their own; but Ahsoka’s life wasn’t her own either. This is the tragedy of The Clone Wars, but there’s also an ironic beauty about it – Ahsoka wouldn’t have had her master or her best friend, if it wasn’t for the war. It’s a story about the philosophy of choice, hope, good and evil of course, friendship and loyalty. Victory and its highest cost, death; the consequences after a life spent fighting, which no one usually thinks about.

When the final shot rolls and we see Vader’s ominous figure step on to the same place where Ahsoka and Rex were last, as he digs his apprentice’s lightsaber and holds it, we realize what the moral of the story is. We see Anakin’s eyes behind Vader’s mask, and we feel the cold he feels – he ended up alone after all, after all his trying, he had an army, he led troopers, he cared for an apprentice, but he lost them all. He won the war, but he would rather have died with his friends – who he doesn’t know are still alive, and they don’t know what happened to him either; instead of being their enemy. But the time for choosing is over, and there is no going back for him now.

His reflection hits the clone helmet, and we see the image of Anakin, walking away from Ahsoka and Rex.

It doesn’t end with the war; it begins with it.

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gayassbish · 1 year ago

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Genshin Guys as Your New Bestie. Highschool AU

Genre: Platonic of course and very much so crack

Reader: Gender Neutral | References to “girly pop” in Childe and Kaeya’s Part

Characters: Diluc, Zhongli, Childe and Kaeya, Alhaitham, Bennet, Xinqiu and Chongyun, Xiao

Diluc-

The kid who raises his hand and asks a bunch of questions, but still manages to not come of nerdy, but intelligent. He doesn’t talk to anyone in class and some other kids in class thinks he’s arrogant cause of it. Like “he’s too smart for us vibes.” You, on the other hand, know better than to trust the rumors and actually get to know his ass. That is lie, I can’t imagine anyone walking up to his emo self unless you’re the most extroverted person on the planet. He also definitely plays chess online in his chromebook 24/7.

Butttt you do end up sitting next to him as your seating arrangements change every semester or so. You say hi like a normal person and he sorta just grunts?? Terrible first impression, but you realize he’s very kind. Always picking up your fallen pencils, sharing homework answers with out you asking, and you end up getting a long pretty well once you find your stuff in common.

P.S. He’d 100% drive you around everywhere

Zhongli-

A popular dude cause he’s handsome ig and the fucking valedictorian. Plus he manages to know everything without coming off like a know it all, so he is generally well received by everyone and helps basically everyone out. Has a 10000 IQ and a calculator for a brain too. Probably wears granny glasses.

So… you’re at your part time job and notice him coming in. You immediately hide cause you don’t know him like that (yet) and don’t want to be remembered as “oh they’re the person who works there.” One of your coworkers helps him out instead while you secretly spy and realize he’s not as smart as he looks?? He is very much so only book smart and has no street cred what so ever. He looks so lost as to why he can’t take whatever y’all sell now and pay latter. He honestly gives your coworker a hard time. (rip coworker </3) You eventually help out and he recognizes you!! You learn he has an excellent memory and actually knows your name. And viola now your the person who he can go to for financial means. Have fun!

P.S You drive him everywhere…

Childe & Kaeya-

They’re those loud kids in the back who don’t shut up. I want to say they’re pant saggers but I know I would get canceled. (They so are though.) Anywho, you end up being forced to sit next to them and they like start flirting of sum shit idk?

But you’re girly pop and you don’t take that crap. After you put them in their place and educate them on how they shouldn’t talk to anyone that way like some cat calling NPC, they start to really respect you?? Well to be fair you don’t know if they’re scared of you or are just putting on an act.

Y’all get closer as you stop a lot of fights that happen between them and do your best to quiet them down in class.

And they kinda just drag you to places. Once you lost a bet and were forced to go shopping with them. (If you didn’t show up, they threatened to upload a photo of you sleeping in class onto their social media.) At the mall… Childe started to pick fights with the security guard (he claims it’s the other way around but we both know it was him) and Kaeya DOES NOTHING?? He just records the whole thing while giggling like an idiot. Y’all get banned from the mall. They do nothing but apologize on the way to your house (they picked and dropped you off.) It didn’t work cause you didn’t talk to them for a month after that.

P.S. Kaeya actually has really good fashion taste and was the one the blackmail you because he wanted to Project MakeOver you??

Alhaitham-

He’s an obnoxious, self-centered asshole to everyone and you do your best to avoid him until you’re stuck together for a group project.

Even though you know to the rumors about him, you still introduce yourself like a person with manners would… BUT he cuts you off. Immediately orders that he will do the project by himself entirely. And while you would usually take that deal (cause who wouldn’t, let’s be honest) you CANNOT stand the disrespect from this MAN. You guys start arguing until the teacher has to break it up between y’all and fucking Alhaitham is just like “I’ve never been so embarrassed infront of a teacher,” as if he didn’t start the fight. smh

Anyways, it’s really rough between you guys and it’s now presentation day. After you guys present, Alhaitham turns out rather pleased with your part, and though he would NEVER admit it to you (or even himself) you actually did better on your part than he would’ve if he went solo. At the end of class, he apologizes for being so cold at first. He explains how he hasn’t had the best group partners and almost always does all the work. He asks if you’d be okay working together again.

P.S. If you said yes, y’all would turn into an unstoppable duo. And if you said no THEN GOOD. He needs a lesson.

Bennett-

You definitely decided to just look after him once you saw him drop his phone, bag, papers, and himself down the stairs multiple times. You’re basically his bodyguard atp. You literately carry around extra bandaids cause of him omg. You guys have a bunch of classes together so it’s easy for y’all to get a long. You help protect him from bullies (Bennett just attracts the worst kinds of people) and he starts to think you’re his lucky charm.

Basically starts to worship you?? Invites you to hang out in his friend group of misfits featuring Razor, Barbra, and Fischl. They play DnD during lunch too and drag you into it. Honestly it turns into a cult with you as their leader. At the end of the school year, the five of you pull a bunch of pranks on the kids who were messing with Bennet.

P.S. The cult had a name: Lord Y/N’s Pimps. Barbra came up with it because she thought calling someone a pimp was a form on endearment… the name ended up just sticking.

Xingqiu & Chongyun-

They’re those fucking kids who won’t shut up about Harry Potter or Star Wars or sum shit. Luckily for them, you can be just as geeky. You fit in pretty well with them.

Y’all met after you went off on them for spoiling the new Star Wars movie and eventually bonded over your love for those space ninjas. You get invited to watch movies and join the arcade with them 24/7. You join in on Xinqiu’s bullying of Chongyun and in turn actually out smart Xinqiu. So it balances out. They love you cause they probably get tired of each other after a lot of their own fights, but you’re always there to ground them <3

P.S BY FARRR the best people to go trick or treating with on halloween.

Xiao-

The kid who never got out of ‘emo skater boy phase’. A lot of people think he’s cool, but he doesn’t have many (tbh any) friends for two reasons. One, he’s hard to approach, and two, he’s socially awkward as fawkk.

You guys have been going to the same school for years, but never actually talked to each other until you saw him playing The Legend of Zelda on the switch. You ask to watch and he kinda just scoots over without saying anything. Weird, but you bring up how nostalgic it is to see people from back in the day to when everyone still wet their pants to how they’ve changed now. Xiao just kinda mumbles in response. He actually doesn’t want the conversation to end and sorta just awkwardly asks how you’re weekend was on a tuesday…

Once you learn he’s not as scary as he looks and is secretly a big giant marshmallow on the inside, you guys get a long pretty well. Then when he gets more comfortable with your presence, he’s so much more less awkward (a sign that he trusts you) and his real personality will start to blossom. You guys go to the park a lot and feed the ducks (WITH real duck food, may I add, and not the nasty expired bread). You guys play on the swings and exchange playlists/sound recommendations.

P.S. You wonder if he actually knows how to ride a skateboard because he’s one of those skater boys who actually just brings a skateboard with them everywhere while they never use it?? Like we get it. You have legs for a reason but then why bring the skateboard if you’re just gonna walk.

And you get closer to them all once they trauma dump on you </3

A/N: My first post wowowow | 11/01/2023

#genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli genshin x reader #alhaitham #bennett genshin impact #genshin xiao #xiao genshin x reader #childe #genshin kaeya #genshin headcanons

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scaryscarecrows · 2 months ago

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"Hold On, We're Going To Have To Improvise."

“I need you to get me Mark’s number.”

Jimmy blinks. It’s not like Antoine never calls him, or even never calls him for information, but he doesn’t usually open conversations like that .

“Hang on.” It’ll take a minute. Mark moves around a lot more than some people. Last month he was over in Nigeria, but now… “What’s going on?”

“Something’s come up.”

“No shit something’s come up.” Not there now…okay… “What is it?”

Antoine does that thing with his tongue that says he’s debating on how much he should share. Jimmy is now starting to panic.

“So that fun Halloween party we all attended–”

“My lines are secure,” Jimmy says, only a little offended. “The fuck? Did Batman track you down or something?”

“Not exactly.” There’s the clatter of stuff. “Where is that first-aid…there you are! The boss sort of broke into my apartment.”

Distantly, Jimmy thinks this is the second time this has happened.

“Why?”

“Run-in with Copperhead, apparently.”

Shit.

Shit, shit-shit. Okay. Um.

“Dude, you need, like, a rocket launcher. Or to move.”

“Can’t. He’s all fucked up. I have no idea how he even got here, to be honest, but I’m not asking.” There’s the rough closing of a cabinet door and when Antoine speaks again, he’s got his Commanding Officer Voice on. “So I need Mark’s number, and I need it now.”

Jimmy barely clamps down on a sir, yessir! Barely.

“Just about got it,” he says instead, already opening up another tab to book a flight out. “Two minutes. What happened?”

“I disrupted a trafficker’s income flow and he took offense,” comes a dry response, followed by a hiss and a, “The hell is that stuff, acid?”

“I’m not the idiot that let this go,” Antoine mutters. “Just hold still, I suck at stitches.”

He really does. Jimmy doesn’t envy the boss on this.

Copperhead, though…Jesus. Even Riley would probably think twice before tangling with her.

“Of course you did,” he says, and honestly, it’s not a surprise. Jimmy’s been keeping one eye on the Red Hood ever since he showed up, just…just to know, y’know? Barring the costume, it’s really no different than the Knight he remembers. Sure, the Gotham Thing happened, but before that…even at his most volatile (and he could be volatile, Jesus Christ), there was still that strong, borderline suicidal determination to help.* Not that the general public was going to notice; what few ghost stories got out were far, far more interested in the whole ‘came outta nowhere, butchered half my gang, fucked off into the night’ thing. “All right, found Mark. Texting his number to you.”

And got himself a flight booked. This is why he keeps a go bag.

“Good,” Antoine says, at the same time that the boss winces and goes, “Christ, you’re actually trying to kill me.”

“What’s going on?”

“I didn’t break those ribs,” Antoine grumbles. “Hold on, we’re gonna have to improvise because I do not have…”

His voice trails off. Jimmy kinda wants to ask what’s going on, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he wants to know. So sue him, he’s a little squeamish about blood and things.

“Okay, be right back, I gotta find a thing.”

Jimmy’s expecting the phone to be left, but it’s not. That means he can ask a little bit.

“Well?”

Antoine’s quiet. There’s the sound of a drawer being opened.

“He’s messed up, man,” he finally says in a low voice. “And she did apparently nail him with some kind of poison. I’m gonna call Mark. I’ll call you back if something comes up.”

“Right.”

* * *

Antoine is well aware that his stitches are less than awesome, but his ghetto-ed up shoulder brace is actually pretty great.

Ignoring the fact that it’s made out of a truly hideous scarf Delilah gave him for his birthday. It’s a cheap piece of shit with gnomes on it. She thought it was hysterical. Sisters suck.

“Mark’s gonna text me Trent’s number,” he says. The boss, now apparently nearing the end of his ability to stay awake, just nods.

“S’good,” he breathes. “S’good. T’anks.”

He looks like hell, even now that he’s cleaned up a bit. Antoine had found an oversized set of sweats he’d gotten years ago, to accommodate casts, but they really don’t fit him well. Can’t be helped. No more hacking up blood, but Antoine’s not sure that he’s not just trying really, really hard to keep a lid on it.

“This isn’t some sort of weird mind control poison, is it?”

The laugh he gets in response is rough and pained, but it still sounds like the Arkham Knight even without the modulator.

“No,” he says. “Nothing like that, wouldn’t ‘ve…”

Yeah, fair enough.

“Just checking. Maybe go to sleep or something, I don’t know. Can’t hurt, right?”

“Mm-hm.” He prods at the ugly gnome scarf (fucking Delilah, she knows he hates gnomes, they’re creepy and that one Goosebumps book had gnomes from hell) and closes his eyes. “S’good idea.”

Antoine resists the urge to ruffle his hair like he does with his niblings. Barely.

Christ, this was not something that he thought he’d have to deal with today. And he has the sinking feeling that it’s going to get worse before it gets better.

“I know I’m not the close choice,” he says. The boss cracks an eye open. “And it’s not like I mind, but. Why here.”

The eye closes again. Antoine’s just starting to think he’s not getting an answer when, “You were the closest. Technically speaking.”

Huh…oh. Yeah, of their little…little cluster, only Jimmy and Frank are also still stateside. Frank, last Antoine heard, was in Roswell. Jimmy’s back in Seattle. Antoine’s in New Orleans, because sometimes you gotta go home, but that does make him the closest, he guesses.

“‘Sides,” the boss continues, voice starting to slur the way voices do when people are really fighting for consciousness, “trusted you not to kill me.”

“That’s a low bar, boss.”

“Mm.”

“Maybe go to sleep.”

“Mm.”

THE END

*The tie-in comics (from which I cherry-pick, as they frequently contradict the games) do feature Jason rescuing a family from being possibly murdered. He has his own motives for this, but still.

#ailesswhumptober2024 #jason todd #antoine drouot #jimmy rogers #why do they kick me?

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garmanarnarr · 5 months ago

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Rickorty Week Day 7: Alternate Selves

1.9k | grandpa Morty and grandson Rick | rated M for medical trauma/noncon surgery/possessive behavior

@rickortyweek

Morty’s grandson is seventeen, six foot six, and drunk as balls in the middle of a Friday afternoon. It’s not even 2PM. They must’ve had early release at school– if he’d even gone at all. He probably hadn’t.

“C-C’mere, Morty,” he’s saying, swaying in the doorway, a beer he’d peeled out of his mother’s fridge dangling from his fingers. “C’mere, you old fuck. I got somethin–sooOUGHmthin’ for you.”

Morty looks up from his newspaper, pushing his reading glasses up on top of his head. He crosses one foot over the other on the ottoman and takes a ginger sip of his iced tea, pretending he doesn’t give a shit, when actually he does. Actually, he’s a little scared. He usually is around Rick, these days.

Rick’s gotten all close up, now. Morty can smell the peppermint schnapps under the sour hops on his breath. He can see the blush of acne on his jaw, the frayed edge on the bottom of his t-shirt.

“Do I hafta ask you again?” Rick asks, low. He’s watching Morty’s face closely, surprisingly focused, considering how drunk he is.

“W-what is it, Rick? I’m in the middle of reading about—” Morty looks down “--sports.” He honestly can’t remember the last few paragraphs, anyways, since Rick started skulking around. Baseball. Or maybe it was the Bruins?

Rick puts one hand on the arm of Morty’s comfy chair and leans over.

“P-p-please, Grandpa? S’ just in the garage.” He sounds wheedling, a little needy, the sort of voice that Morty’s always had trouble refusing. The kind of pathetic one. Rick had already passed his grandpa’s shrimpy height a few years ago, and shot up a full foot beyond that since, but. It’s hard not to to think of him as the little kid Morty’s been taking care of since he was so young he held books upside down to ‘read’ them.

He was the sweetest kid. Morty has to remind himself of that all the time, now. Lonely, nerdy, and always a little obsessive, but—sweet.

Crisply, he folds his paper and sets it aside, and stares at Rick until he blinks clumsily and gets the message, backing up a few wobbling steps. Once he’s not breathing down Morty’s neck, Morty gets up, hips creaking, and follows his grandson to the garage. He’s wearing the white lab coat again today, ratty and stained. He really likes that thing. Morty’s daughter said she was worried about him wearing it but Morty figured it couldn’t be all that bad if Rick was, you know, doing real science type stuff. And the stuff Rick does is real, alright. Realer than real. Scary real.

Morty moans under his breath as they make their way through the kitchen, where Rick abandons his beer to sweat itself warm on the counter. His right hip has been giving him some trouble, not helped by some of the crazy adventures Rick’s been dragging him on, recently. His body is getting less reliable, his joints, more sticky. That’s just part of getting old, though, Morty figures. He probably shouldn’t adventure so much anymore. He’d kind of rather just keep reading his newspaper than deal with whatever Rick’s trying to involve him in. Doze off, take a fucking nap right there in his chair. Maybe go take his daughter’s car to the corner store to buy some scratch-its, or work on the little patch of garden he’s started to cultivate in the backyard until the sun starts to dip behind the tops of the houses.

As he follows Rick down the shallow steps to the garage, he considers what would happen if he told Rick he was going to blow him off to water his tomatoes. Rick’s pretty creative. Maybe he’d make Morty’s shoes feel like he’s walking on uneven ground all the time. Or change his glasses lenses so they can see through clothing but only for other wrinkly old guys. Or booby trap the house with invisible whoopie cushions on every available surface so anytime Morty so much as leaned his busted hip against a wall there would be an embarrassing fart sound.

Or maybe he’d just give Morty a cold shoulder, brutal and bratty. Nobody sulks like his grandson; Morty remembers some pretty epic tantrums growing up, mainly every time his grandpa ditched him to go do something.

He’s too attached, Morty’s daughter said, a few years back after Rick had melted down when Morty had missed his twelfth birthday party. You’ve got to put some space between you, Dad.

That’d gone pretty great, clearly.

They get to the garage. Rick’s cleared off a table in the middle of it. Scattered around it are some carts covered in complex-seeming implements with caster wheels on the bottom. Looking at the table is already making Morty mighty nervous.

“What is– what’ve you got here, Rick?” Morty asks, carefully. It’s not feigned interest; he’s always genuinely curious about Rick’s experiments.

Rick’s already at another table messing around with stuff. He’s so much smarter than Morty even though he’s only seventeen and that’s terrifying, when Morty thinks about it, so he tends not to.

“JuUGHHst lay down for a second, okay?” he tells Morty.

“I don’t understand.”

Rick rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“I know y-you don’t, gramps. Just fuckin’ throw me a bone, here.”

He’s pushed up the sleeves of his coat, and the movement shows off the width of his bare forearms. He’s been getting stronger, lately, filling out more. HIs muscles are whipcord lean and defined from all the lifting and welding and tinkering he’s doing in here. He’s so tall he has to stoop over Morty when he talks to him.

Morty swallows, dryly, then obediently lays on the table. His body protests every step of the way, each point of his bony-ass joints pressing painfully against the stainless steel.

“Okay, I did it. Now what?” he says to the ceiling.

Rick’s messing with something that Morty can’t quite see, even as he twists to look.

“What’re you doing, Rick?”

“Surgery,” Rick says, casually, popping the plastic cover off what looks like an exacto knife with his teeth before spitting it into a bin. He places the blade on one of the trays, which Morty now notices seems to be holding a lot of specifically surgery-ready instruments. It glints in the fluorescent lights of the garage while Morty’s heart crawls to his throat (which can’t be good for it). He can feel his eyes getting big.

“Uh, hang on– h-h-hang on, Rick, you don’t mean–”

‘Take your clothes off.”

“I-I-I’m not doing shit, here, man.”

“Okay, j-just your pants then. And your underwear.”

Morty feels his face going red. “I—“

“I’m fixing up your broken-ass hip. Duh. Shit’s slowin’ us doooown. What am I supposed to do next time there’s a Borgor after us and you c-can’t keep up, huh? Just— just let it eat you?”

Rick seems genuinely annoyed, even a little distressed. Morty takes a breath. They need to rewind this a few steps, take it from the top.

“Listen,” he says, “I’ve had a lot of fun on our adventures, Rick–” he thinks of stuffing the megaseeds up his butt, and the Mr. Jellybean incident, and all the beings from one hundred different planets he’s killed over the past year– “but, maybe I should, you know. C-c-call it a day? On the adventure stuff?”

Rick is washing his hands, thoroughly, working soap between his fingers and up to his elbows. Morty didn’t know there was a sink in here. Maybe he built it, just for this.

“I–I–I’m serious, Rick.”

Rick is still silent.

“I don’t need— I’m j-just an old man, Rick. An old geezer. Can’t you just let me be an old man and do old man sh–shit?”

Rick spins around. “Hah! That’s no fuckin’ excuse,” he spits. “Table, go into lockdown.”

Morty jumps as plastic restraint cuffs suddenly unsheath from the smooth surface of the table top and wrap over his wrists and ankles. Rick’s picked up a needle from one of the trays. It’s full of a pale, pearly liquid.

“What the fuck, Rick—“

“I’ll fix you up, Morty, don’t y-you worry. I won’t even let it hurt.” He pauses. “Even thought I could,” he adds, quietly. He tries to approach Morty with the injection, but Morty’s not making it easy for him. The table’s shaking on its spindly legs with how hard he’s pulling against it.

“Let me go, Rick!”

“Table, make it tighter.”

Another set of restraints goes around Morty’s biceps, fully pinning him to the table. Though he can only barely lift his head, Morty watches in a remote horror as Rick slips the needle into a vein in his forearm and depresses the plunger.

“Just leave me a-a-a—“

The end of the sentence never makes it out of Morty’s mouth, locked in his stutter. The world is beginning to slip away, even as he fights against it, the whole dingy setup of the garage and Rick’s voice swirling down into the toilet of oblivion:

“Woah, J-J-Jesus, you’re really squirmy…”

–

When he wakes up, everything still feels pretty fuzzy. He blinks heavily a few times, trying to figure out where he is, what’s happening. He tries to move his legs, but his whole lower body is numb and it feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. When he tries to move his arms, he realizes he can’t really do that, either; something’s binding him, and someone’s talking above him, even though the words aren’t distinct, yet.

It’s Rick.

Rick is holding Morty in his lap, long legs on either side of his own. The walls are starting to swim into focus around them, and Morty can see the sad, bare drywall, a few bookshelves, a pair of dusty red curtains around a single window. They’re up in Morty’s room, on his bed, which is only a narrow twin. Outside, it’s the lingering end of twilight.

“B-back with us?” Rick asks. Morty can feel the vibration of him talking where he’s pressed against his chest. He smells like beer and chemicals, like the super strong bacteria killing soap they use at the doctor’s office. One of his hands is petting gently— still a little drunkenly— across Morty’s thinning hair.

“Y… yeah,” Morty mutters.

“Your hip’s fixed up, now. Had to tell Mom you were out playing v-video poker or some shit.”

Morty knows he’ll get hell for that later and grimaces. He wonders what kind of weird cybernetic component Rick’s placed inside his body, sitting there alongside his guts and muscles and worn-out bones.

“Gramps, listen.”

“Wh-What?”

While one hand still pets his hair, Morty watches as Rick’s other hand snakes down to his right hip. It seems miraculously mostly healed, besides the long pink line of a scar that’s revealed when Rick pulls the waistband of his pants down a little. It’s started to ache. RIck squeezes down, just enough pressure to radiate discomfort. His breath is hot in Morty’s ear.

“We’re never gonna stop. Never. N-n-not until I die. And I’m planning on living a goooood long time, Grandpa. I d-don’t care if we have to Ship of Theseus your whole shit. Rick and Morty, one hundred years. One hundred fuckin’ years. Yeah?”

Morty nods and whimpers, softly. “Yeah,” he says. “Rick and Morty. O-one hundred years.”

#rickortyweek2024 #rickorty #rickmorty #my writing #tried to squeeze this in under the bar #apologies for any typos #cw: medical trauma

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 3 months ago

Note

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

96 for Long Death!

---

“No luck,” Eddie sighs.

“Me neither,” Maddie frowns. That surprises Eddie. “He turned it off for me.”

“I have it,” Sophia says.

They both turn to look at her. Eddie feels slightly betrayed, honestly. He imagines Maddie does, too. But then he remembers all Sophia and Buck went through, together. Maybe he thinks she’s the only person willing to do the same batshit crazy stuff in Eddie’s name. Maybe he’s right.

Sophia turns the screen to show them.

“Here,” she says. “He’s here.”

Maddie grimaces. “Alright. Let’s go.”

💧💧💧

If he had wanted to, Buck could have waited until Kim was home to kill her.

It was easy to narrow down Kim’s neighborhood, based on her very active Instagram feed. Easy enough to find her from there. Buck hates that it was easy, actually. He hates that things he learned in the interest of keeping Eddie safe, of being a protector, have turned him into a predator. Someone dangerous. Someone vile. Because that’s what this will be right? A vile, horrible act.

Buck knows that.

He just had to keep in mind, she started it. She hurt Eddie first. She destroyed things.

This isn’t all Buck’s fault.

Although, deep down, he knows… It kind of is.

He’s not sure how he wants to play this exactly. He can’t just show up at her work and what? Shoot her. That’s a surefire way to get caught. He can’t break into her house while she’s there. That is also ending in a 9-1-1 call and Buck’s arrest. He considers waiting behind her house for her to get home, and coming from behind as she unlocks her door. But again, that leaves a lot of risk. Anyone could see him.

Instead, he thinks about where the police first found Eddie. Abandoned, near the Long Beach Marina, bleeding to death. Truck left in a parking lot not far away. And he thinks that’s fitting.

Kim drives a Prius. Buck knows this because she’s posted it to her Instagram several times. It’s baby blue and the license plate starts with 2Y. He doesn’t know the full plate because it’s never fully visible, but he knows that much. That’s enough, he thinks.

He ensures Kim is working. He calls the store and she answers. He hangs up without saying anything. He parks far enough away from the main sea of Long Beach Promenade parking that his license plates won’t be caught on any nearby cameras.

Crime is hard, he’d once said.

Time to find out.

The sun is setting and he’s dressed in dark, concealing clothing. He walks to the Promenade parking, and scours the large, seemingly endless lot for the right vehicle. He finds four Priuses, but only one of them is baby blue. When he is confident no one is looking, Buck uses a knife to flatten two tires. She won’t be leaving here on time. Maybe he should have researched how to cut brake lines. But that comes with the risk of her crashing and hurting or killing someone else. He really doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. Plus, when Eddie hears about this - there will be no way around that - he doesn’t want the image of her involved in a vehicular death. That’s just a little bit more fucked up than it already needs to be.

So here’s the plan. Kim will be done work in approximately fifteen minutes, based on store hours. Maybe a bit longer, depending on how long it takes to close shop. Even now, as business is winding down, the parking lot is beginning to empty. People are leaving from a long day of shopping, eating, and generally hanging out. Kim will be one of the last out. Buck will wait for her to arrive. He will keep low, behind a nearby EV charging station, and wait. When she bends down to check her tires, he will approach from behind, inflict a fatal wound with his hunting knife, and walk away. Fast. He will book it away, actually.

Kim will die. At home, Eddie will die. Kim won’t wake up. Eddie will. Whatever happens from there, happens.

Buck knows he could get caught. Go to prison. He knows this will fuck him up, haunt him, either way. He knows Eddie may be angry with him. Hate him, maybe. But he still has to do it. He has to do it, so he doesn’t find Eddie staked to death one day. He has to do it, so Eddie doesn’t have Chris taken from him if his parents ever find out there’s a vampire in the house. He has to do it, so no matter what happens with vampires, it doesn’t ruin Eddie’s life. He has to do it, because he loves Eddie more than he loathes the consequences.

And that love is a hill he’s willing to die on.

It all goes according to plan. The parking lot empties. There are only a few scattered vehicles by the time he sees Kim walking towards her Prius.

#daisies and briars writes #long death fic

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canadianfangirl-95 · 5 months ago

Text

Choose One.

Triple Frontier character x f! reader

Don’t talk to me this was supposed to be a drabble but idk how to stop. No description because this literally feels like I took 4 pages out of a book and threw them down with no explanation.

No specific TF character is the love interest, choose one of them as your fave and enjoy the angsty ride. No description of reader, nicknames Black Widow and princess.

Warnings- mention of smutty stuff but pretty tame, Tom being an SOB, swearing, drinking

Word count- 2700

The evening air in the small South American town you were based in was growing cooler as the sun had set. You were seated, squished between two of your teammates, Frankie and Will, while Benny and Santi sat on the floor of the common area building, leaning against a small coffee table. Each of you were putting back beers like they were the last on earth, and just enjoying each other’s company. The conversation had swiftly changed to the favourite subject of the group, Santi’s love life.

Will commented, “I think we all know the biggest slut around here is Pope. Didn’t you hook up with Tara from scheduling last week? She was only here for 3 days, and you still managed to get her into bed.” he said, leaning past you to give Santi a shit eating grin.

The group let out a boisterous laugh at Santi’s copious infidelities. He threw his hands up conceding, “Hey laugh it up, if I’m gonna be teased for getting laid the most I will gladly take it.”

Benny interjected, “Honestly, considering Black Widow is one of the only women at this base, I can’t believe she isn’t the one who’s getting laid the most.” He pointed at you, to which you shrugged and brought your cold beer to your lips with a smirk. You had your fair share of base affairs, but every guy you had tried out failed to truly satisfy you the way you needed, so they didn’t stay on the roster very long. Besides, they were only ever a distraction from what you truly wanted but couldn’t have.

Santi nodded along, “Yeah why are you hanging out with us all the time when you could be getting it on every minute of the day?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek in thought before responding, “Maybe that’s the thing, there’s not a whole lot of fun when it’s just like a guaranteed thing. I at least want to work for it a little, cuz in all honestly, I think with all single men considered, you guys are only one’s at this base who haven’t tried to sleep with me.”

You let out a chuckle as the group went quiet, each of them looking at one another with an embarrassed look on their faces. Frankie’s ears grew red underneath his curly brown locks and baseball hat. You immediately noticed the way Santi downed the rest of his drink and Benny and Will exchanged a knowing glance.

Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion at the sudden change in demeanor. “What’d I say?”

Frankie leaned in and shook his head, “Nothing, you didn’t say anything wrong.”

“Okay, well then why does it feel like something just happened?” You questioned.

Benny went to open his mouth but was quickly slapped on the arm by Will, causing him to look away from your gaze toward the dull beige ceiling that was adorned with water stains.

You perked up in your seat between Frankie and Will on the old leather couch, “Okay, now you guys are freaking me out, what’s up?”

The air grew thicker as Santi finally turned his attention back to you with a huff, “Widow, now don’t shoot the messenger here,” he said putting his hands on his chest to speak as earnestly as possible, “but when you joined the team, Tom made us all promise not to sleep with you.”

Your mouth dropped; you had been a part of this team as their sniper for 8 months. Four of the guys had welcomed you with open arms, but not Tom. He had been nothing but a pain in your ass since the moment the Sergeant introduced you. You still remember the day vividly. Being transferred out of your old team after months of belittlement by the macho muscle heads you had been paired with. Each of them had welcomed you with a smile and worked hard to form a personal bond with you. Except for Tom of course, he immediately started calling you princess and continued the belittlement of your previous squad.

Before you could speak, none other than Tom entered the common area room you were all seated in. Blood boiled to the surface as you rose from your seat and started towards him. Meak calls of protest rang out behind you from the group of men, but it was pointless. Your red face was met with his equally aggressive facade.

Stopping mere feet in front of him you crossed your arms and raised your head high, “You son of a bitch who do you think you are deciding who I can and can’t sleep with?” You said with a strong tone.

Tom’s eyebrows popped up with shock, he looked over your shoulder to the four men all seated with their heads down. He smirked and turned his attention back to you. “So, they finally told you huh? That’s fine, it was the right decision then and it’s the right decision now.”

“I have worked tirelessly for this team for 8 months, and yet you still only have ever seen me as a,- a sexual thing and a fucking distraction. You’ve never seen me as the same as anyone else here on this team.” Heat rising in your voice with each matter-of-fact word.

Tom scoffs and crosses his arms, “Don’t get all self-righteous on me princess. You’re no better than any of us when it comes to sexualizing your team. As if you haven’t thought about each and every one of us here. Even me I bet; you seem like you’d be into a little hate sex.”

You stuttered, “In your fucking dreams Tom-,”

“No, actually, in yours. Don’t think we haven’t heard you. We all share that bunk house.” His voice lowered to a seductive whisper, and you took a deep swallow. “You really think we haven’t heard the deep breathing, the slight moans, the creak in the box spring, all coming from your bed late at night. Or maybe you wanted us to hear it. Maybe while you do it, you’re thinking about what would happen if one of us heard and decided to slide into bed with you. What would happen if one of us finally broke that boundary, offering to finish you off. So, before you come at me, claiming I only see you as a sexual thing, why don’t you think about how many times you’ve gotten off thinking about one of us in these 8 months.”

Your body shivered and your hair stood straight on your arms. His words cut through you like a knife, as you knew that most of it was true. The four men behind you were some of the most attractive men you’d ever met and were kind to boot. Of course you had thought about them, who wouldn’t, but it was none of Tom’s business, nevertheless.

He looked up in thought, enjoying your stunned moment, as the rest of the guys held breaths and chewed fingernails, desperate not to get pulled into the situation. “You know, I told the Sergeant that I’d be willing to make it work with you, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s about time you transfer to another base where there are less, what did you call it? Distractions.” he said pointedly, staring into your eyes with fire.

You glared back at him, considering your options. Finally, an idea sparked, and you were willing to try it if it meant you would be staying on this team. Not just to continue being a thorn in Tom’s side, but to stay with the guys you had developed so many feelings for. Especially the one you had felt your heart tug toward for months now. Pulling your stern look into a sly smirk, you take a step inward and drop your arms to your sides, caging Tom in with your body to the point that he was doing his best not to touch your chest with his crossed arms. “You know Tom, you actually missed the beginning of this conversation. In which I informed the guys that besides them, every other single man on this base has tried to sleep with me. Give that some thought, and then accept the fact that, I’m not going anywhere.” You bite your lip and step back, turning your back on him and returning to the seated area where the group was sitting. You decided not to make eye contact with them as you collected your drink and phone. Turning swiftly on your heels you started towards the door, calling out just as you were about to exit, “Don’t wait up for me boys, got some business to take care of.” You declare with a wink, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you leave.

Tom turns his head away from the door and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Is the Sergeant single?” he asks with a deep breath out his nose.

Nodding his head, looking down at the cool white tile flooring of the room Will responds, “Yeah, got divorced last year.”

“Son of bitch, isn’t that fucking great.” Tom exhales. “What the fuck guys?” he asks, turning his attention to the men and opening his arms wide.

Santi’s mouth gapped, “Us? What about you? You’re the one that came up with that misogynistic rule and that fucking violating monologue.” He pointed towards the door you left from, exasperated by the situation.

Tom waved his hands authoritatively, “You know what, I don’t wanna hear about it. We have a meeting at 8 tomorrow, if she’s not there, she’s out and I don’t care who she’s slept with. I’ll personally escort her stateside if I have to. All of you get some shut eye.” He turned and bound out the door, slamming it closed behind him.

A chill fell upon the group as they released the breaths they were holding, unsure of what was to come.

Benny scratched his nose and said in a low voice, “I thought I was the only one.”

Frankie crossed his arms on his chest and leaned back asking, “Only one for what?”

He shrugged, “Only one to hear her. Have you guys?” he asked, looking between the three uncomfortable faces around him.

Santi let out a groan as he stood from his seat on the floor, “We all do it man, keeps us sane. Just supposed to ignore it.”

Frankie and Benny shared an agonizing glance and stood, all of them retreating to their bunks in silence. Each of them lay there awake, wondering if you were going to come back that night, and when the clock chimed for midnight, they knew they had their answer.

In all honesty, sleeping with the Sergeant wasn’t something you were expecting would be happening. He was actually quite handsome with a Kevin Costner vibe to him and showed you a good time. Plus, you certainly wouldn’t have to be worrying about Tom medaling in your assignment now that you’ve got his boss wrapped around your finger. When you arrived back to the bunk house it was empty, all of the team had seemingly already left for the morning assignment meeting.

“She’s gonna be here.” Frankie said sternly, leaning against a desk, bracing his hands on the cool wood top as Benny paced in front of him.

“I don’t know man she was pretty pissed last night.” The younger man stated, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepishly at the door.

Will and Santi sat at the desks lined up in the room, arms crossed and giving each other worried glances. Benny startled as Tom entered carrying his clip board of the assignment run down. He glanced around the room and smirked taking notice in your absence.

“Well, if princess isn’t here in let’s see,” he pulls his wrist to his face to analyze the time on his watch, “30 seconds I guess we’ll be looking for a new sniper again. Shame really, she was a good shot, just couldn’t shut the fu-,”

“Morning, gentleman, and Tom.” You say as you skip through the open door, brushing past Tom and taking a seat on the desk beside Santi. Crossing your arms and legs and providing Tom with a pointed stare. The rest of the men looked to one another with utter shock and fear of your boldness.

Tom gave a strong huff, “Just on time, late night?”

“Late night, early morning. The Sergeant says hi by the way.” You say with a wink.

He bares his teeth and shifts on his feet, “Alright, I’ve been thinking about our little issue here. I may have over stepped.” He puts on a sly grin and your defenses only triple, unsure where this false change of heart might be coming from.

“You’re right, you and the guys here should be able to sleep with whomever you want. So, by all means, choose one.” he says, squaring his shoulders with confidence.

Your eyebrows pop up in confusion, “Choose one?” You repeat.

He shrugs and gestures to the men, “Yeah, choose one. Clearly you want to otherwise you wouldn’t have thrown such a fit. I’m a reasonable guy, but I do still think it would be a bad idea for you to be toe curling with everyone here. So, as a compromise, you can have one of them.”

You take a deep breath, considering his proposition. Glancing around the room at the four men, they all look at you with desperate faces. Your eyes meet with the one you’ve been falling for all this time and a shiver runs through your body as his eyes burn into you with desire. All that’s been unspoken between the two of you slowly bubbling to the surface as you both consider what Tom has said. This whole time you thought he wouldn’t be interested. Wouldn’t want you the way you wanted him. Knowing now by the look on his face, the only thing truly keeping the two of you apart was the juvenile rule Tom had thrust upon him. His eyes said a thousand words. I want you. I’ve wanted you this whole time. Choose me. Love me the way I love you. You’ve thought about it a hundred times. What it would be like to finally take his face in your hands and pull him close in for a kiss. What it would sound like for the words that hung in your throat to finally spill out and for him to say the same. How it would feel to have his hand skate up the back of your uniform and settle on the small of your back before falling desperately into the sheets.

Your daydreams and pining were suddenly cut short when your attention was brought back to the clearing of Toms throat. You shift your weight on the desk, “Interesting proposition Tom, I’ll have to think about it.”

He grits his teeth, “Oh come on princess, I think you should give us an answer right now. Don’t wanna leave the guys hanging. They deserve to know who is gonna get the absolute pleasure of the Sergeants sloppy seconds.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at his derogatory comment, “You had the night to think about it Tom, I think I deserve the same.”

The group looks to Tom, awaiting his answer. He takes a scan of the room and sees the stern faces. Nodding confidently, “Once again, I’m a reasonable man. We’ll talk tomorrow. Today, we have a day trip to take, and I want everyone focused anyway.” he says, snapping his knuckles on the clipboard in his hand.

As Tom drummed on about the plan, you stole your last weary glance at the man you longed for, that you may finally have within reach. The one you’ll choose and will choose you, everyday for the rest of your lives.

#triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #santiago garcia #santiago garcia fanfiction #benny miller #benny miller fanfiction #will miller #will miller fanfiction

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