#but part of me is wondering if this is a sign that I need to finally learn

[yanmuffins]

waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!!  ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

[captainmera]

In the modern au, what would Caleb's reaction be if Philip's father reached out to him about Philip?

He does make contact!

Caleb is polite, if anything. But mostly overly compliant.

Philip's father didn't know he had a son. And very much want him. He's not a bad person, but both he and Caleb have been given different stories about the other. (they're being manipulated by Anthony Hopkins)

Pip's father has been told that Caleb isn't a great person, but comes across as pleasant and very polite. Meanwhile, Caleb had it pointed out to him that he's in a bad seat, legally.

He's just lost his job at the Roasted Robin's, he's mentally and emotionally unwell - and untreated! Their lives are their version of normal. But Caleb is growing increasingly aware of how not-normal it is.

Legally, Philip's dad has the rights to him. He gets the final say if Caleb is somebody who should be part of Philip's life or not. Caleb knows his record looks bad. But doesn't know Hopkins has set him up to failure.

Hopkins is pretending to help Caleb, in actuality he's just pushing Caleb's circumstances closer to an edge where Caleb will feel there's no better solution than suicide. Which would, in Hopkins world, leave nobody with the knowledge of the royalties.

He's trying to manipulate Caleb the way his mother was manipulated. She gave the church access to her money so she wouldn't spend it all. He's trying to do the same to Caleb, but gaslighting him into believing he's too broken to manage this himself, and needs Hopkins' guidance. Caleb does, after all, not know his way around legal things. And has no reason to disbelieve Hopkins.

Philip, in the case of Caleb dying, would be taken to his father. Leaving the Wittebane home vacant. And Hopkins could get access to any papers that'd be there, where he can sign over rights to himself. Why give it to the church??

Philip, in the meantime, isn't clued in on what's going on.

Caleb and the father discuss how to go forward, what's best for Philip. And Caleb is saying all the right things, which makes the father uncomfortable, because he's been told that Caleb is a good manipulator and mentally/emotionally abusive. So hearing him say very loving and thoughtful suggestions on how to move forward, puts him on edge.

Hopkins is, of course, banking on that the father is an idiot and will blindly trust him. But he keeps his cards close to himself. He lets Caleb's actions speak for him, and is wondering why Hopkins said Caleb was a bad person - sure, rough around the edges, but his heart is full of warmth, especially for his little brother.

Caleb's suggestion is that they move slowly. First, let him tell Philip he *has* a father that didn't know he existed, and now that he knows, wants to be part of his life.

Caleb is acutely aware that, in the end, he has no rights to Pip.

If his father wants it, social workers will get involved and they'll dig up everything that's wrong. If it gets to court, it'll traumatise Philip (mostly Caleb though) and in Caleb's world - he'll definitely lose Philip forever.

So, he's agreeing. And being friendly. And suggests that Philip and his dad hang out, maybe go on father-son dates, maybe start sleeping over on the weekends.. Y'know. Ease him into it.

Philip doesn't like this.

not. one. bit.

To him, it looks like Caleb doesn't want him anymore.

"Why don't you fight for me then?! If you want me, then take it to court!" "With what money?! Look at me, Philip! No authority would let me keep you, and honestly? Maybe they're right! Maybe I shouldn't!" "Caleb-" "No, Philip! Enough..! You know I love you, but maybe I'm.. not good for you? You know? He's not a bad man, for crying out loud, he's a dork! He has a what's cookin' good'lookin apron! I don't have that! I have... Powder-mix flapjacks!" "But I like that, it's home to me.." "Then.. I'll pack some down for you. And it'll help you make a home there too." "...." "..Pip, I don't stop being your home, just because you get a second one." "I don't need a dad. I never needed one, not a mum either. I just needed you, you've always been good enough." "you only think that because you don't know what- Philip, come back. We aren't done talking- okay."

That sorta thing! :D

[millersfinest]

the thing in your chest that beats ³ | e.w

santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader

wc: 5.3k

mini-series: california | oregon | idaho (you’re here) | wyoming

blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…

cw: angry!r, slow-burn romance, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption, afab body parts mentioned, vulgar language, some joel references, inner guilt, use of ‘y/n’ and ‘woman’, ellie has a panic attack, shambler appearance (ew), and for the fun part… SMUT, switch!reader, oral sex, fingering ( :P ), barely any dirty talk because this is a loving experience y’all (and i don’t really know how to write that lmao), ellie might be a little ooc but i just perceive her to be this way idk.

note: to start… if anyone needs anyone to talk to after hearing the results of the election, please don’t be afraid to direct message me. especially my fellow american queer/trans friends. we are truly in some tough times right now. i hope this chapter can serve as some sort of distraction for what’s going on. as always, enjoyy!

Idaho

Welcome to the Gem State, the sign read when you passed the state line into Idaho a few days ago. The place you’ve been dreaming of was getting closer and closer—that feeling of relief was near! You could feel it bubbling in your stomach, enriching the nerves that ran under your sore muscles.

Since Oregon, you and Ellie had barely shared a full conversation. It’s only been small directions, or helpful interjections with infected, or even, guidance in getting around potentially dangerous people.

This time around, you harbored most of the frustration and anger. Wrath wrapped itself around you once more, forbidding you from wondering what her inquiries meant—what bringing up Honey meant. Ellie tried to service you the best she could, trying to make up physically for what she couldn’t vocally. Resuming her position as your caretaker, but that only made things worse.

The wounds and weaknesses of Santa Barbara were healing but were being replaced by new ones. Surface cuts, sprained ankles, and scorned hearts. Ellie could ask you nothing without the pitch of your voice raising an octave. It wasn’t anything like the character she knew you to be.

Or the months you spent together thus far meant nothing—she never actually knew anything about you.

The annotated map relied in your hands as you approached an administrative building. You had spent the previous night planning the route, instead of engaging in small talk with your partner. You were, somehow, still trying to prove to Ellie that you didn’t need her. Indulging in an individual competition of: who does it better? It was a drastic understatement to call you a competitive person. And her incessant need to make up for the misfortune of her curiosity wasn’t helping.

“Here’s the firm…” You mutter, immediately trotting to the front doors. American Falls Firm. Pulling at the handle, you realized it was locked and barricaded from the inside. Huffing, you folded up the map, sliding it into your backpack. “Looks like we gotta find another way in.” Dusting your hands, you began to survey different sides of the building. She followed behind you, keeping an eye out for lingering infected and any other inhibitors.

Humming to yourself, you squinted at the broken window above you. Turning your head, you peered at the auburn-haired woman who’s back faced you. Your Beretta resided in her hands as she kept a keen eye on the surroundings. Ellie didn’t mind doing that job because it kept her mind from wanting appeal to you. It kept her from wanting to beg for your forgiveness. After all, this was just her doing you a debtless favor. She shouldn’t have been so attached to you anyway.

“Hey,” You waved her over. “I need a boost.”

She met your eyes, nodding with firm lips. “Sure,” Slinging the shotgun around her body, she bent at the knee and cupped her hands low. Placing your hands on her shoulders, your irises danced over her features, briefly. Dirt attempted to blend in with the freckles over her nose, but they didn’t stand a chance—you knew the difference. Her olive eyes did well to avoid yours, feigning a look of impatience. “Up you go.”

Ellie boosted you up toward the window with all the strength she could muster. Fingers catching onto the edge of where the floor and window meant. Using your own strength, you pulled yourself into a room illuminated by daylight. Groaning under your breath from the stretch of your muscles. Crouching, you leaned back down to pull Ellie up.

Her hand attached to your forearm, crawling up the stone wall and into the room. Ellie hissed as she crawled inside, holding her wrapped ankle to alleviate some of the pain. Standing to your feet, you looked down at her with flickers of concern in your eyes.

The other day, she tripped over a thick fallen tree branch from the morning dew—spraining or straining her ankle, you couldn’t remember the difference. All you knew was that she hurt her ankle badly, but it wasn’t broken. Ellie wrapped it herself with athletic tape from your bag; with her back facing you in embarrassment.

“Can we keep going, or do you need a second?” You inquire, avoiding your eyes, dismissively. Like you didn’t care what her response was, even though you did.

“I’m fine…” She stood to her feet, wringing out her foot.

“You sure?”

“I said I’m fine…” Ellie grumbled, walking off to another side of the room.

It was a barren office that the both of you meandered through. Picking at the miscellaneous items that could serve you in any way. There were two desks that occupied the office; decorated with familial picture frames and old-world gadgets that made no sense to either of you.

Slowly, pushing open the door, the entire building appeared silent. Light peaking through broken and foggy windows, greenery growing inside and through the deteriorating structure. You found it rather beautiful that the earth was taking back what was hers—negating the infected, of course. Your fingers traced the vines that grew through the cement. Those plants were living despite opposition; everyone could learn something from that.

Breaking through barriers and walls, despite their resilience.

You glanced at the auburn-haired woman, keeping a safe distance from you, scoping out the place. “What’s the route out of here?” She asks, dragging her sneakers against the cracked floors. There was a slight limp to her gait, but made sure to walk as normal as possible when your eyes were set on her.

Blowing air from your lips, you respond. “The ground floor. There should be a stairwell around here somewhere.”

Usually, lower floors of abandoned buildings worried you. Infected find themselves huddled in their own corrosion. In darker, moister, places they intensified. Some merging to the walls, other growing boils of acid.

When your eyes set on a metal door that led to the floor you needed to get to, your heart pumped blood into your veins. Pounding in your ears as an alarm. Through the window, white flurries fluttered by, confirming the one thing you were concerned about: over-developed infected.

“Mask up. Spores.” You swing your bag around to dig for your mask.

Ellie did the same, with slight hesitation. “Is the this only way through?”

You nodded, tightening the strap around your head. “Yeah, if we still wanna knock off some time.” Opening the door, you armed yourself with the pistol that sat snuggly in the waistband of your jeans. The walls were adorned in the crusty corrosion of the sick, bubbling in corners. You frowned under your mask, stepping slowly down the stairs. Ellie following behind you with the same caution, shotgun drawn.

Errk!

Both of you stopped moving in the stairwell at the sound of a clicker. You swear under your breath, glancing at your partner. “We’ve got company.” She muttered, nodding at you to go forward.

Moments like this was when you relied on her the most, but you’d never admit it. It was nice to not have to endure circumventing infected alone. Ellie was your backup, and you were hers. Even if you were still upset with her—underground that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was staying alive.

Navigating through the dark, with your lights flickered on, the both of you managed to stealthily kill the clickers wandering around. But when a pair of crusted hands leaped from the wall, pushing you onto the ground… Another beast was alerted.

With the sound of Ellie’s shotgun, a loud monstrous grumble rumbled from down the hall. You pushed the stalker to the side, scrambling to your feet. “Ellie, how many bullets do we have?” You asked her, adrenaline pumping through your body.

She checked the chamber, cursing. “Fuck! Three rounds.”

Picking up the pistol from the ground, you checked the magazine. Only a few bullets. The shambler began to stomp, approaching the two of you, increasing into a run. “We gotta go!” You grab her hand, tugging her a tight hole in the wall; tall enough for you to slip through.

Running into the room, you realized there wasn’t an exit. There was only a door, but it led back out into the hallway. The quick call you made to evade the boiling beast, was a mistake. Before you could even regret the decision, the shambler bursted through the wall.

Without command, Ellie began firing the shotgun. First bullet. Second bullet. Third bullet—she was out. It roared, releasing puffs of acid. You both dodged by the skin of your teeth, running around the room like frightened mice. Now, it was your turn to unleash pointless blows to the creature. Emptying the rest of your magazine into the bulbous creature did nothing but anger it. Somehow, it found a way to creep up behind you and Ellie, taking her by the throat.

“Ellie!” You exclaimed, voice trembling in horror. Her hands scratched at its arms, pounding to be set free.

A pipe leaned out of a wall as an escape route, a message from God—fate, prying at you. Using the strength of a scared shitless person, you yanked the pipe free, falling back onto your butt. Quickly, you stood up and began hacking at the thing. Sounds of effort and defensive fear leaving your lips. Dropping Ellie onto the ground, he turned to you, roaring. However, your hacking at his body didn’t stop until he was on his knees. Gurgles left his corroded and bubbled mouth, but you used it as bait to make your final blow.

Heaving over its corpse, your back hunched, the pipe slipping from your sweaty grip. She coughed, reminding you of her presence, slumped against the wall. Her breath began to grow heavy, hand on her chest.

“Oh, my God— Ellie!” You crouched beside her, unsure where to place your shaking hands. She attempted to crack a smile, to pretend she was fine, but she wasn’t. The imperative organ in her chest beat faster than it should have, knocking the wind out of her. She couldn’t breathe—at least it felt like she couldn’t.

Ellie was panicking.

“Hey,” You tried, deepening your eyebrows, sliding your hands from her shoulders to her neck, to her trembling jaw. “Ellie,” Her hand shot up to grip your wrist with vigor, looking into your eyes, intensely. “Ellie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Your free hand pushed strangling hair from sticking to the plastic of her mask.

The grip on your wrist moved to the entrapment on her face. She began to claw at it, whining. “No…” You attempt to stop her fast, strong movements, but she shoved you away. “Ellie— no! What the fuck are you doing?!”

She peeled the mask off her face, taking the deepest breaths you’ve ever seen. Leaning back, your eyes watered, watching her gasp for toxic air. Ellie pushed the strands of her hair off her face, leaning her head against the cement of the wall. Her heart was settling, but then she looked to you. Olive eyes meeting your teary ones. “What the- what d-did you just do?” You stammered. “Ellie…”

You enunciated her name with such weariness that it made her feel guilty. Still, getting herself together from her panic attack, she felt the need to console you. But she didn’t have the energy.

Breathing heavily under your mask, you watch as nothing happened to her. She doesn’t convulse, choking on the toxic elements in the air. There was nothing different about her. Absolutely nothing.

“I can…” Ellie breathed. “I can explain later. Let’s just get outta here first, all right?”

Having no choice but to believe her, you stood to your feet. Reaching down for her hand. When you pulled her up, her ankle gave out on her. “Shit,” Ellie cursed, furrowing her eyebrows. “The harder they fall, huh?” She dryly chuckled.

You frowned, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

Unamused, you found a way out of the ground floor. Unmasking at the first sight of daylight. You didn’t have to travel far with Ellie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. The only place that was able to receive your weak bodies was a little bookstore around the corner.

It was clustered inside. Book aisles placed close together, where only a single body could shimmy through. A pair of metal stairs spiraled up the back of the store, leading to another floor of books. Dropping all of your things, including Ellie’s arm, you stalked up those rusty steps with hot tears welling into your eyes.

Ellie leaned against a bookshelf, pressing her lips into a line. Watching every harsh step you took, ascending up the stairs. Her own eyes began to fill with tears, glancing down at her shaking hands. Before they could fall, she harshly wiped her face and decided to busy herself. It wasn’t a bad time to take inventory.

Upstairs, you found yourself huddled in a corner. Hot tears streaming down your cheeks, weeping as low as you could. The tears falling down your face was a release of fright. You realized something on that ground floor that you wish you hadn’t. That freckled stranger you had come upon, or who had come upon you, in Santa Barbara was becoming a meaningful person in your life. Unbeknownst to you! Ellie had snuck up on you like a rodent in disguise.

That distant figure that once hovered in dim lighting who you didn’t trust has become so much more. You trusted her with your fucking life. And it only took a few months on the road.

Having barely recovered from the threat of that shambler, she snatched her mask off like it was nothing. In those few second, your heart beat so loud it stalled time. You thought she was going to die right in front of you, willingly.

It took you back to a moment in your past—the death of your mother. Before you reached Catalina Island, your mother sacrificed herself to ensure that you made it there. She gave you her mask to take the spores head-on. Promising that she’d hold her breath; at fifteen, you were silly to believe her.

Just then, Ellie’s gasps proved your immediate worries and fears wrong. She wasn’t going to die in front of you like your mother did. The viral spores on that floor didn’t kill her. Making you wonder: who the fuck were you traveling with?

Wiping your face, messily, you wander back down the rusted steps of the bookstore. You spot her with both of your bags opened, going through the supplies you had. Counting under her breath. When her strained eyes caught yours, she ceased all movement.

“You know,” She began, looking at the hand that was missing her pinky and ring finger, massaging her palm. “I think, that was the most you’ve ever said my name.”

You frowned, walking through the aisles, cheeks stained with tears. “What the fuck was that back there?” The sound of your voice was weak and frail.

“A panic attack…”

“I’m talking about the mask, Ellie. You breathed spores…?”

She licked her lips, averting her olive eyes. “I’m immune…”

A beat passed between the two of you, roping around your still bodies.

Ellie watched how your lips quivered, like you wanted to cry. The redness in your eyes made her frown. “I just— in the moment… I couldn’t breathe. I needed to take it off—“

“How do you know?” You abruptly ask. “How do you know that you’re immune? What if it just… I don’t know… Takes longer to develop in your system?”

“y/n…” She remorsefully spoke. “I was bitten when I was fourteen.” Ellie rolls up the sleeve of her jacket, pushing her tattooed arm toward you.

Pressing your lips together, you walk forward, taking her arm in your hands. Her forearm was covered in evergreen ink. Taking your hand, she guided your fingers over the eruptions in her skin. Abrasions. Hidden beneath the adoration of the tattoo. You never noticed this before. “I had a lot of time to know if this was real…” Ellie muttered, peering at you. Insecurity leaking from her pores.

You met her eyes, opening and closing your lips, trying figure out the words you wanted to say. “Who are you?” You examined the features you’ve come to know. “And don’t walk away this time— you have no choice but to tell me.” A chortle falls from your lips, causing her stiffness in her shoulders to loosen.

And so, Ellie told you as much as she could. She told you about how she got bitten. She told you about Riley. She told you about Joel and Tommy—about the fireflies—and about Joel, again. She told you about Dina and Jesse. And then, she told you about Abby. The familiarity of her name caused you to perk up. You knew of her from the resort; it was her and a little boy. However, the version she told you about aligned nothing with the version that you knew of.

“I went to Santa Barbara because I wanted to put an end to my suffering and Tommy’s— I wanted to kill her.” Ellie confessed, leaning her head back against the books pushed into the shelves. The two of you sat opposite of each other in a book aisle, knees grazing every so often. “I thought that would fix everything… But, when I saw her on that pillar…” She shook her head, running her hand through her hair. “For a second, I wasn’t going to do it. She led me to that beach, holding that kid, and I was gonna leave.”

Ellie blinked, remembering that empty feeling she felt on that day. Guilt crawling through her for something that was never in her control. You watched her speak, intently, with deepened eyebrows. “Then, I remembered. I remembered what she did— what she took from me, and I couldn’t let her go. I threatened that little boy, and I made her fight me. She didn’t want to, but I made her.”

“Did you kill her…?” You asked, slowly.

She chortled, wiping her teary eyes. “No. She took my fucking fingers, and I let her go.” The laugh she released was dry, and without humor. “It was like… Everything that I’ve done, leading up to that day, was all for nothing. All the people that I hurt— that I killed just to get to her… It was all for nothing.” Her voice cracked, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ellie couldn’t stop them this time.

You reached for her knee, caressing your thumb over the fabric of her jeans. She peered up at you, through her thick, wet eyelashes with a sort of surprise. Ellie didn’t think you’d stick around after hearing about her truth. You, a victim of the rattlers, empathizing with a murderer.

Before that, though, you were a firefly. You more than just a victim.

“How could I ever think of you as a bad person after what I’ve done?” She pressed her plump lips into a line, shaking her head. “That wasn’t what I meant at all… I was just trying to figure you out. I worded it all wrong— I’m sorry.” Ellie apologized with such frailty, you had no choice but to accept.

“Don’t be sorry, Ellie…”

“I’m beginning to realize I’m not really good with people.”

You squeeze her knee. “That’s not true. I think we get along great.” You shrug, attempting to lighten up the mood. Her lips curled at the corners, reaching for the hand on her knee, placing hers over yours. A silence bounced between you—eyes boring into each other’s, looking through each other. “I also think… You did what you thought was best…” You voiced, nodding affirmatively. “I probably would’ve, somehow, done worse.”

She scoffed, drawing circles on the back of your hand, absentmindedly. “Worse? You couldn’t have done worse.”

“You’d be surprised.” You lifted your eyebrows. “Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but as a firefly… When you’re told to do something, you do it.” Shrugging, you remove your hand from hers, crossing your arms. “I’m not a saint, Ellie. I’ve done loads of shit that I’m not proud of.” You looked down at your knees, frowning. “If some girl killed someone I cared about right in front of me… It would have been the last thing she ever did. Shit, I’ve killed people for less.”

You paused, eyebrows twitching. The image of a guardian angel came into your mind—Honey. “It should’ve been me in that house… In Santa Barbara.” Squeezing your eyes shut, tears began to fall down your cheeks once more. Angry, mourning tears. “It’s like… The Lord gave me second chance to do better— or was it fate? I don’t fucking know…”

Ellie blinked, having a severe déjà vu moment. Somehow the words spoken in her past, have managed to resurface. If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again. Spoken by your pretty mouth, instead of someone else’s. “I’d probably be just like Honey if it weren’t for you— dead. And I still don’t know what makes me worth saving, but I’m grateful. I’m grateful for you.” You sniffed, lips quivering while looking at the auburn-haired woman.

She swallowed, moving from her spot across from you to sit beside you. If only she had the courage to say those words to Joel. If only her resentment didn’t run so deep—perhaps, her guilt for his death wouldn’t be so strong. “Everything about you is worth saving… You’re like a lucky charm.”

You leaned your head back against the books, looking at her. “A lucky charm, huh?”

“Hell yeah! I mean, you totally whooped that shambler’s ass. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Hitting her arm, you giggle, keeping your eyes on the bookshelf in front of you. “Seriously, y/n…” Her humored tone faded as she trained her eyes on the side of your face, urging you to just look at her. To meet her eyes as passionately as she wanted to meet yours. It could’ve been the vulnerability that pulsed around the room, but she needed to see you. Her body ached for touch—perhaps, your touch. Ellie needed consolation for her confession.

Finally, your eyes drift toward hers. Not realizing how close her body was to yours. Shoulders, arms, hips, knees touching as if you were conjoined by the hip. Her eyes were prettier close up. They were greener than the evergreen that grew up desolate buildings. The freckles on her damaged skin could be connected like constellations—how come you never noticed this before? You wanted to trace the scar over her top lip and the one in her eyebrow with your finger, not just with your eyes.

The only thing that could be heard was your uneven, nervous breaths. Ellie moved her face closer to yours, just enough to tease, to ask for your permission without using her words. Her olive eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. Weakly, you nodded, chewing on the corner of your bottom lip.

Her hands settled on your face, pulling you to hers. Meeting her lips with your lips, softly and patiently. Placing your hands on her wrists, you pull away, analyzing her features. Full lips were parted, wantonly. Pushing forward, you resumed the kiss with more intensity.

Whining against her lips, you got onto your knees, kicking your leg over her legs. Settling on her lap, her hands moved to your hips, kneading them. Her lips beginning to trail down your jaw; they were wet and hot kisses, causing your hips to roll on their own. Pleasured sighs fled from your swollen parted lips, holding onto her shoulders. “Ellie— Ellie, are you sure about this?” You question, with your eyes fluttered shut.

Against the sensitive skin of your neck, she spoke. “Beyond sure…” She muttered, littering your neck with love bites. Then, she pauses, pulling back to look up at you. Her hands still on your hips, pulling them to a stop to get your attention. “Are you sure about this?” Her pupils were blown out, adoringly.

You massaged her tense shoulders, licking your lips. The sight of her made your skin warm and tingly. “I’m fucking sure.” You smiled, playing with ends of her auburn strands. Leaning down, you pressed your lips against hers again, with fervor.

The both of you needed this—human connection. Even if it was short-lived, or temporary.

Ellie pushed at the flannel over your arms, tossing it to the side. Then, it was your knit shirt. She rolled it up from your abdomen, you lift your arms so she could remove it. Lastly, was your sports bra. She pulled it over your head, eyes marveling at the sight before her. Her calloused hands ran down the bare sides of your back, lips trailing down your sternum.

Running your hands over her hair, she latched her lips around one of your nipples. Sucking and nibbling at the sensitive nerves. A moan escapes your throat, arching your back into her. Your hips buck on top of her lap, begging for her touch elsewhere. “My lucky charm…” She mutters against your skin, kneading your other breast.

You end up with your back on the hard floor of the bookstore. Your hands pulling off her clothes like your life depended on it. She pulled your pants off, leaving you both only in your underwear.

Ellie kissed you, again, pressing her chest against yours. Her knee slotted between your legs, pushing her thigh against your clothed core. You could feel her grinding against your propped up leg, moaning into your mouth. Calloused hand gripping the back of your thigh. Sloppily, your lips trail to the side of her face, airy moans releasing beside her ear. “Ellie, please, touch me…” Wantonly, you pleaded, clenching the roots of her hair.

With her hot lips against your jaw, nibbling at your ear, she obliged. Drifting her hand down the center of your bodies, rubbing you over your underwear. Propping herself up on her other arm, she peered down at you. A pout resting on your wet lips, narrowing your eyes at her. One-handed, she slides your underwear to the side, running her middle finger up your center. Spreading your slick over that sensitive bud awaiting her focus. Ellie chews on her bottom lip, watching you shudder under her touch. “Right there?”

You respond with the tremble of your thighs and the heaving of your chest. She cracked a charming smile, eyes hazing at the sight of you.

Slipping two fingers into your cunt, she moans with you, curling her fingers slowly. Your hands roam her toned stomach, squeezing at her breasts, but you were losing focus. “S— So fucking good— ah!” Pulling her fingers out of you, she lowered herself. Kissing the scars and bruises that littered your abdomen. Her movements briefly confused you, until you felt her mouth on the inner parts of your thighs.

She pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing them aside. Then, she was on you, mouth hot over your cunt. Suckling on your clit, thrusting her tongue into you—eating you like she was starving. Your mouth fell ajar, grasping at her hair for something to hold onto. “Fuck, Ellie!” You whine, bucking your hips toward her face.

Her olive irises looked up at you between your legs, glimmering with lust. Arching your back, feeling that tightness coiling under your muscles, a lewd sound comes from your throat. Something between a moan and a yelp.

Sooner than later, your release comes crashing over you. Like a breath of fresh air. Legs clamping around her head, pushing her closer to your heat. Her lips making out with your pussy, bringing you down from your high. “Oh, my God…” You mutter, massaging her scalp with your fingers.

She crawls up your body like a lustrous lioness, letting your taste yourself on her lips. Your hands gripped at the fat of her ass, biting her bottom lip with your teeth. Ellie gasped, angling your face with her hand, groaning against your lips.

Sliding your index finger under the hem of her boxer-short underwear, you yank them down. “Damn…” Ellie mutters, kicking off her underwear the rest of the way. “You’re quick.” She chuckles, as you flip her onto her back. Running your lips down her neck, biting her skin.

“I want you… Can you blame me?”

You gripped at her hips, but when she winced you stopped. Peering down at her hip bone, a stitching remained there. Red and a little irritated. “It’s fine. Keep goin’, please.” Ellie tried, reaching for your hand.

Lowering your body, you kissed around the irritated wound, gently. Ellie watched you, chewing on her lip. Holding onto her hand, you kissed lower and lower. Through the hairs over her mound, the inner parts of her thigh—lightly over her cunt. She twitched, bashfully trying to shut her legs. But your hands braced her thighs.

Breathing her in, you licked a line up her center, making eye contact with her. An airy sound left her parted lips, free hand tweaking her nipples. “Yeah… Yeah…” She chanted, rocking herself against your face. You lick at her clit before sucking it into your mouth, her hips jolting at the feeling. Fluttering your eyes shut, you spend time on her sensitive bud, messily. Your non-dominant hand still holding onto Ellie’s, her grip tightening every second.

Taking your other hand, you insert your middle and ring finger into her core. Looking up at her reaction, while you made love to her clit. “Fuck, yes!” She enunciated her words lustily, drawing them out. Popping her bud from your lips, you begin to curl your fingers. Her wanton moans bouncing off the bookshelves around you.

“You’re so pretty like this.” You whisper, mainly to yourself, as you gaze at her in awe. Ellie was always so rough around the edges, but under you she was different. Her scarred body shook under you, in pleasure. She was in her element.

She moaned your name, riding your fingers. The muscles in her abdomen clenching, the grip on your hand getting harder. Taking that as your cue, you began to make out with her pussy. Only bringing her closer and closer to that breaking coil.

When the sparks in her stomach bursted into flames, a string of curse words fell from her lips. Her back arching off the hardwood floor, fingers pinching her tits. Her slick was all over your mouth, as you crawled back up her body.

Hungrily, she found your lips. Pushing your bare bodies together, you lazily made out—winding yourselves down.

Orange hues of the sun setting peaked through the windows, and the empty parts of the shelves. A burnt orange cast, glazing over your bodies like a blanket. Your legs intertwined, arms draped over shoulders, wrapped around waists; you were comfortable like this. Ellie was comfortable like this.

Parting your lips, she peppered small kisses along your jaw, before laying her head on your chest. “There’s a couch upstairs…” You breathe, playing in her hair.

“You say this now…?” She looked up at you, fingers rubbing circles on your bare hips.

A chuckle fell from your lips, your thumb caressing her flushed cheeks. “Heat of the moment!”

She sucked her teeth, nuzzling her head into your neck. “Whatever, you filthy woman.”

“Hey! You’re the one who took my clothes off.”

“You let me take your clothes off.” She nibbled at the skin of your throat, squeezing the fat of your hip.

You pressed your lips together, amused, running your fingers down her freckled back. “We could go up to the couch now.” You offered.

Ellie shook her head, hooking her leg around yours to pull herself closer to you. “No, just wanna lay here for a while…”

And you did just that. Laid with each other until your backs ached enough to move to the couch upstairs. Only to resume the position on the itchy cushions until the sun came back around to drag you both back onto the road.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi Hilary I know you’re only replying to so many politics asks — I can only imagine how many are sitting in your inbox rn — and you’ve already been such a comfort to all us folks who’ve really appreciated your insight time and time again! But I did want to ask about all the posts I’ve seen more recently about signing petitions and reaching out to the White House for a recount. I feel like at this point we’re really reaching — everyone’s talking about how there’s evidence suggesting cheating on Trump’s part, and while I would never be surprised by that, I have yet to see any trusted sources backing those claims. It feels like we’re long past that point, even though the results came in so much faster than I ever expected, but I was wondering if you have an opinion on all that? Take care in the meantime, and thank you for all that you do!

I will make this the last politics ask for the night, and hopefully for at least a few days (no promises, though), but --

This, most unfortunately, is not going to work. For one, Biden/the White House cannot request a recount in state-level races. There are strict rules governing who can and cannot request those, it's usually either triggered by a certain percentage margin or requested by the candidate, and then it also has to be paid for. Kamala has given her concession speech and the Democrats are not going to go down election-denialism rabbit holes. It is hugely unfortunate that the worst people in the world who launched a coup after losing last time are the ones to benefit from it, but... yeah. It just sucks all the way around.

The election interference happened on the day with all the Russian-linked fake bomb threats in blue areas of swing states, the ballot boxes set afire, etc etc. I fear we have only begun to see how bad it will be in this and any future elections, as with many other things, and the reports of people's ballots disappearing or not being received etc are obviously disturbing. But there is, as you say, scant evidence aside from social media chatter backing this up, people are angry and hurt and looking for something to make it not be real (me too, man) and that's easier than thinking that half the country simply shrugged and chose fascism because of grocery prices and trans panic. And it sucks absolute shit, but this is what happened. It happened broadly consistently across the country and was a symbol of the anti-incumbency that's been going on since Covid (New Zealand's liberal government also fell victim to this and elected reactionary conservatives, so this is a thing). We can split hairs about this or that policy decision by the Democrats, and believe me there needs to be a messaging revamp and the firing of basically every Democratic Corporate Consultant TM, but we need to face up to the truth that many, many ordinary American people chose this. They wanted it. And if we are going to do anything about it, we have to reckon with that fact instead of looking for conspiratorial excuses. For one thing, that's what those assholes do constantly, and fuck them.

Likewise, results came in across the country much faster due to the fact that people once more voted largely in person on Election Day, and not early/by mail as they did in 2020. They came in largely matching the expected timelines given by election officials of both parties beforehand. If there is basis to all this missing-ballot stuff, then yes, obviously, it should be investigated (though I have very low confidence that it will be if they are already making preparations to close the federal cases against Trump). But at this point, as you say, this is not something that has logistical legs and is going to undermine a lot more. It sucks. Sometimes I wish we didn't have to be the adults in the room and could just be whiny cheating shitstains like the Republican Fascist Party -- it seems to work out for them that people want Democratic policies and then elect Republicans to punish Democrats for not instantly and perfectly implementing all of them. The exit polls largely matched with what the results turned out to be. It absolutely sucks almighty shit, but it's true.

I am old enough to remember George W. Bush getting reelected in 2004, and it sucked, though not as much as this just because Trump is so crazy and extreme and the GOP has abandoned even the basic pretence of democracy and decency. It's a race to the bottom and through to the center of the earth for them now, especially since they have literally no incentive to reform or do anything but double down on their extremism. Why would they? They just won a major election and got popular legitimacy, something the Republicans have lacked for a long time. This is only the second time they've won the popular AND electoral vote (the first likewise being 2004) in the 21st century. We got the blue trifecta in 2020 because we benefited from the same desire for reversal of course that the Republicans are getting now. In and of itself, this does not indicate fraud. Terrible things about America and the future, yes, but not fraud.

So: Yes. We need to focus on the things we can control and prepare ourselves for what is still to come. It will be hard and it will suck and as I keep saying, it was completely avoidable, but people didn't want to avoid it. They're now going to learn painfully why they should have, but we can't do anything about that either. It is very much going to be a case of picking your battles, drastically limiting your daily news consumption, and a lot of other protective measures, and that is where, at least IMHO, we should focus our effort.

Take care. ❤���

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- Caught in the Act

A+ in Pretend Love (Lando Norris x Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- If you asked Zak Brown, he would advice never to store confidential contracts on the cloud. If you asked Lando, he would tell you to not fall in love with your fake fiance. If you asked Y/N, she would tell you to never date a famous person even if it's not real.

While Lando was being coached by his best friend to confess his love to his fake fiance; Zak's cloud was being hacked in hopes of finding some dirt on McLaren or their CEO ad black mail but they didn't expect to hit the jackpot. Their contract was valid for 3-4 more months and the plan was to slowly ease Y/N out of Lando's life and say that things didn't work out because of their busy schedule.

What no one anticipated was they would wake up on Saturday morning to both their face plastered all over the news with the contract they had signed. The media was calling them all sorts of things from trying to fool them to trying to fool an entire country. There were people who had tracked her down and were not waiting outside Y/N's house in hopes of talking to her or at her work. She had to take leave from work since her professors were speaking ill of her. She couldn't imagine having to go back for her PHD programme. The worst were the fans; the name calling, the hate; it was all directed towards her as if McLaren were saint's in all of this. Lando also bore the brunt of a major chunk of the hate.

Zak just texted them telling them not to talk to anyone and to stay hidden till it all died out. Y/N wouldn't even talk to Lando at this point because she was so angry and hurt and didn't want to direct her anger towards him when it wasn't even his fault. She was sat bawling her eyes out at all the mean things the people were saying about her. It made her life extremely difficult, something she hadn't imagined happening.

Lando was a mess; McLaren told the media that Lando wouldn't be answering any question other than the race and if they asked any personal questions, he just walked away; adding fuel to the fire. The drivers were also gossiping among themselves. "No wonder she suddenly showed up. It was all a rouse" George whispered. "I mean I get why McLaren would do that, with Lando's antics" Alex reasoned. But as soon as they would spot Lando, they would stop whispering. "If you guys are gonna talk about my relationship" he said in animated quotation marks, "do it in front of me. I'll answer all your questions" he huffed and walked away, clearly hurt by his friends. Racing while it felt like his world was falling apart was proving to be very difficult. All his calls and messages to Y/N would fall on deaf ears and it was messing with him even more. He just needed to know that she was okay. He didn't give a rat's ass about how he was.

"Lando, I think, soon the media will get something else to talk about. You should just focus on your racing" Zak reasoned with Lando who wanted to put out a statement saying it was all their idea. "None of this would've happened had you not saved the damn contract on your cloud" Lando sighed angrily. "I don't understand how could you let something like that happen" he shouted walking away. The environment in the McLaren garage was tense to say the least.

Lando had hoped that things would quite down by now. The original timeline for his contract was also up but there was no shutting up about the fake relationship. Lando won his maiden win and yet the only thing they could talk about was Y/N. Part of Lando missed her, he had really hope to be able to share this moment with her. When he got out of the car, a big part of him wished she was there so he could run to her, hold her and maybe celebrate this win with her.

So, later that night, he did call her and she answered, her voice hoarse. "Congratulations Lando" she crocked. "Were you crying?" Lando asked worried. "Yeah, I'm just so happy you won" she said clearing her throat. Lando found himself smiling for the first time in a long time. "How have you been?" he asked her softly. "Same old same old. I thought things would quite down by now but they haven't." Y/N mumbled. "I'm sorry" Lando apologised. "It's a good thing I'm busy with research for my PHD. I have no clue how I would deal with people in my class" she sighed. "I'm so sorry Y/N. It's all my fault" Lando began before Y/N cut him off. "It's no one's fault. Things like this happen. I'm just glad they didn't rebuke my visa for this" she laughed trying to lighten the mood. 'I miss you' was stuck in both their throats as they continued to talk for a couple more minutes. "I think we should cut the call" Y/N suggested. "Oh" Lando replied. "I think it would be easier for the both of us if we stopped contacting each other. It was a hassle explaining the whole thing to my parents and my relatives. I just don't have it in me honestly" Y/N breathed out shakily. "I'll fix this" Lando tried to reason. "Don't Lando. I think this was it for us. I wish you the best. Take care" Y/N said it like it was their last time talking. "Please" Lando begged but Y/N cut the call; "But I love you" Lando whispered into his phone.

As the time went on and as the championship picked up, Lando's heart was in unrest. He felt like he had wronged the person who he loved and he couldn't live knowing that. So, he decided to sit down one day and film a video. He had seen the stuff people were saying about him and Y/N and he felt like it had been months; people should've moved on by now but if they couldn't he would make sure that they wouldn't be able to say shit about Y/N anymore.

The video began with Lando in his Monaco apartment; "Hi guys. Lando here" he began. He took a deep breath before speaking; "I would like to address my whole relationship with Y/N in his video. Part of me had hoped that it wouldn't come to his but here we are. Y/N and I did begin this relationship in a contract but it was the team's and my decision to do so. She was just a random person we ran into who ended up helping us. So, the whole gold digger narrative you all are spinning is a load of bull. I know I shouldn't've done that but I had no other option to clear up my image because that's what the team and sponsors wanted. Part of me had hoped that after the championship had started picking up steam you guys would have something better to talk about but hating on us for the decisions we made is too much. If you would like to hate on me or send me a ton of hate, be my guest but please leave Y/N out of this. She is innocent and doesn't deserve this. I would appreciate it if you would stop sending hate to the woman I actually loved. And to Y/N, if you're even watching, had we met in a different situation, I would've actually married you since I really do love you" Lando finished the video and after he was happy with it he uploaded it to his channel. He knew his PR team would give him shit but he didn't give a fuck. He just wanted Y/N to be safe.

The internet was in an uproar after Lando's public declaration of love. Some were calling it cliche and the others were swooning over Lando for taking a stand. People weren't very happy with McLaren and how they had handled the whole situation. Lando was being bombarded by calls from McLaren and they were angry at him for what he did. "Lando are you crazy? The sponsors won't stop calling. Why would you say that?" Zak shouted. "Because lying was what got us here. So, I cleared the air" Lando stated. "You are unbelievable and so difficult. I don't know why I tried so hard to keep you" Zak mumbled which Lando heard and it stung.

Y/N was on vacation with Becky who had taken her away since all she did was stay coup-ed up at home since the whole incident. Y/N woke up to a text from her mum; 'you'll want to see this. It's Lando' it read. Y/N quickly loaded the video and before she knew it, she was crying. She couldn't believe that Lando loved her. The craziest part of the video was the love confession honestly. She quickly called him and a groggy voice answered. "Y/N, is everything okay?" Lando asked worried. "Yes. Do you mean it?" she asked. "Mean what?" Lando asked confused. "What you said in the video about being in love with me?" she pleaded. "Yes. Every word. I've been in love with you for months and I couldn't tell you and it was killing me. It's fine if you don't feel the same. I just needed to let it out" Lando rambled. "I love you too you muppet" she laughed as tears were rolling down her face. "You mean it?" Lando asked pinching himself. "Yes. I love you so much Lando Norris" she said, by now Becky was also up due to all the commotion. "Are you free tonight?" Lando asked. "Ahh, I'm on vacation right now" she said slowly. "Let me know when you're back, I'll pick you up at the airport" Lando said, "I love you Y/N Y/L/N" Lando stated. "I love you too" Y/N replied before ending the call to explain everything to Becky.

True to his words Lando had come to the airport to pick her up, As soon as he spotted her, he ran to her at full speed almost knocking her down as he wrapped his arms around her waist raising her in the process to spin around for a while. "I missed you" he whispered putting her down with his head nuzzled in her neck. "I missed you too" she whispered running a hand through the back of his hair. "You made me dizzy" she whined as he pulled away to look at her. "Sorry" Lando smiled sheepishly. "About that date?" he asked. "Give me some time to shower and than I'm all yours" she beamed.

The two of them headed home. They went on that much needed date; at home with pizza and shitty rom-coms. They giggled as the pair on the screen kissed. When Lando turned to look at her and held her face like it was the most precious thing. "Can I kiss you?" he mumbled, eyes flickering to her lips. She nodded and Lando closed the distance between them, the kiss was sweet and needy; they had so many emotions running through them and some how this kiss was exactly what they needed.

"What about McLaren?" she asked a couple days later. "I'll tell them we're really dating but now I really wanna just protect you. I won't let anything happen to you." he stated. "I know" she hummed in agreement kissing his lips.

After spending the whole of summer break together, Lando came out to announce that him and Y/N were actually dating. The team took it as well as you expect them to. The fans were going wild since this was truly out of a book. The other drivers were quite supportive and even apologised for their previous discretion.

With Y/N on his side, Lando felt like he could take on the world; good or bad. And Y/N was happy she agreed to fake date Lando since she got a real boyfriend out of this.

Tag list- @gamesetmatch-me @seonghwaexile @yootvi @hadesnumber1daughter @khaylin27 @abq654 @plotpal @charlesgirl16 @inarabee @a-beaverhausen @hwalllllllelujah

[clormstroke]

I'm going to sound arrogant but whatever, I wanted to say it. Hope this doesn't get misconstrued.

I am in the 99th percentile or higher for academic stuff, mostly in my main interests. I am *really* good at what I do, and I enjoy it.

This was really good for my parents, who paraded me around as a shining example of their wonderful parenting, but also meant any issues I had got ignored. In retrospect? I was a very fucked up kid, and I've made a lot of habits and learned a lot of coping mechanisms that are extremely terrible, but hey, I got good grades so it's fine, right?

When I crashed, I crashed hard and all of the pride and joy they'd built up worked against me and pushed me into a deeper pit because I *knew* I could do the things that were being asked of me, I was just too mentally ill to do them. The times I actually worked on the stuff assigned, I passed with flying colours, but that doesn't actually matter if my hodgepodge of coping mechanisms built out of straw and sticks was completely obliterated by mental illness untreated for over a decade.

I've been hunting for the thing that tore my life apart only to realise I can't actually get it because my parents are a vital part of it, and they'd rather die than admit they ignored signs of mental illness during my childhood. I won't be able to tell myself I've found it without conclusive proof, and that's a bit impossible given it needs someone who's been with me since childhood to verify the details I might remember wrong.

Idk kinda hard to take the "ex gifted kids are just sad they can't act like they're superior to others anymore" seriously when being treated as exceptional set me up with the exact worst combination of brain fuckups that got me groomed and then repeatedly sexually abused for decades.

[pinegreenapples]

Radiostatic Fic Recs Part 3!

Hello everyone! I'm back again with a third installment in fics that I believe are great reads! A quick reminder as always, read the tags and if you don't like something, just tab out! The previous parts can be found here. Part 1 | Part 2

Finished

Sound Effect!

This is a silly little crackfic by the beloved ohdeercoffee! It features proto Vox who has been cursed to be a silent film where all his speech is shown as title cards. This leads to a misunderstanding between him and Alastor, but everyone walks away pleased with the aftermath.

Wallow

This series is heartbreaking. It had me shedding real tears as I read it. Alastor and Vox reckoning with the aftermath of their falling out and the mistakes they made that have cost each other everything.

Oh, I'm gonna be wounded/Oh, you're gonna be my wound

Alastor spends an evening devouring Vox as he watches through his cameras. They end up talking about some things afterwards.

Questionable Attachment

Alastor goes to Vee Tower to mess with Vox because he's bored. They end up kissing and Alastor finds himself consumed with the thought of kissing Vox again.

a glass full of love

Alastor accidentally gets dosed with love potion and falls madly in love with Vox. Vox is milking it for everything he can get.

Playing the Victim

As always, I am a sucker for lykomancer's stories and this one is no different. Vox captures Alastor and implants various hypnotic codes in his psyche before fucking him.

Unsurpassable skills in espionage

Vox manages to collect dirt on the hotel that could ruin them, Alastor is tasked with retrieving said dirt because he's so well versed in subterfuge, and not, as Angel claims, because Vox wants to fuck him.

Two for the Show

This fic was so good! There's something about ohdeercoffee's smut that is just absolutely delectable. Alastor has a little game he plays each time he goes into rut. He goes to bars and flirts with sinners only to blue ball them the second they leave the bar. This time Alastor spots a peculiar looking sinner with a box for a head and decides he will be his next victim.

(Temporary) Truce

Alastor is going through heat after seven years away from Hell. Vox notices the signs and steps in to help.

The Trials and Tribulations of Alastor's Cursed Pussy

As you can imagine from the title, this series deals with Alastor going through estrus and the various points in their relationship that Vox has helped Alastor through it. This series is in turn sexy, funny, and heart wrenching.

Haven

This fic is so sad but so wonderful. Alastor is so desperately worried for his friend and it provides a wonderful characterization of his inner monologue. Vox pisses off another overlord and is kidnapped. Alastor searches the whole of Pentagram City to find him and bring him home.

Two Halves of a Whole Idiot

Alastor goes into heat and chases Vox down as part of a mating ritual. Vox is super into it. They end up fucking about it.

Man or Machine

Vox has just finished another surgical upgrade and Alastor becomes curious as to how much of Vox remains organic and how much has turned mechanical. He conducts his own investigation.

Thought Contagion

Vox works until he drops and Alastor finds it funny to keep a tally of all the silly places Vox has ended up passed out in. During this latest instance, Vox starts to dream and Alastor finds himself drawn to the fantasy displayed on his screen.

Epitaph

This fic is very sad, much hurt and no comfort. Alastor finally commits the inevitable and deals with the fall out of his own needs.

Shadow of Yourself

Another delectable smut piece by the beloved princeliest! Alastor lets slip that he and his shadow share sensation and Vox decides to bring that to the bedroom.

Coup de foudre

The hotel hosts a party to celebrate their win against the exorcists. Alastor meets Vox again and finds himself weak to the man's charms even after decades apart.

Meet Me at My Frequency

Starting after episode 2, Vox's actions push him and Alastor to actually reconcile with each other. The rest of the series follows the rest of canon with some small twists prompted by their rekindled relationship.

Even Exchange

So sad but it has a happy ending! A very nice fic for some good catharsis and exploring Vox's complicated feelings for Alastor. Heaven plans a larger attack and Alastor and Charlie meet with other overlords to secure their support. The Vees agree and join the fight. Vox sustains a major injury.

Video Fucked The Radio Star

Alastor comes to pick up Angel from the studio and Valentino bites him. Unfortunately for Alastor, Val's venom is a potent aphrodisiac. Vox offers to help him through it.

Floating, Where You Belong

This is a delightfully dark fic where Vox hypnotizes and mind breaks Alastor into his own personal sex kitten.

The New and Novel

Alastor grows curious about Vox's hypnotism and he asks Vox to use it on him while they have sex. The end results are very worth it.

Boredom Ruins Everything

Alastor feels particularly vulnerable after his fight with Adam and he worries that he might be overpowered and taken advantage of. This leads him to make a deal with Vox to ensure his own peace of mind. Mostly a smut series, but a very good smut series! Binturong Rose has an excellent grasp of the push-pull between these two and masterfully incorporates that in their sex life.

You'll Know

Alastor's first sexual encounter was deeply disappointing. So much so, that he's never attempted something like that again. After meeting and falling in love with Vox, he decides to give it another try and finds that perhaps sex isn't all bad after all.

Shadows and Light

This fic has been rewritten and this is its newest iteration! Vox brings home his latest film to watch with Alastor. Watching it together brings out some unexpected revelations.

So An Author & A Serial Killer Go On A Date

This one's super cute! Based on a well known tumblr prompt, Alastor and Vox meet because Alastor is a serial killer and Vox is a murder novelist and they have been searching similar things on the internet.

In Your Dreams, Old Pal

Vox has been dreaming of Alastor and himself together for a while. Alastor decides to take a peek and is disgusted to find the simpering dream version of him Vox has made. In a fit of rage, he eats his dream counterpart and accidentally seals his own fate. Now he has to play the part of himself every night in Vox's dreams.

Background Noise

A fluffy fic about Alastor's hooves and how cute Vox finds them!

Nothing Above the Knee

A smutty fic of Vox deeply appreciating Alastor's hooves!

Red Bow Tie

Alastor reminisces on the past and his current relationship with Vox. A bittersweet piece about what could have been and what still is.

golden rule, it's just for show!

An unfortunate incident at an overlord meeting turns all the overlords back to their human forms. Alastor finds himself mesmerized by the slight figure Vox cuts and resolves to make him his.

Brand me (so I'll have a reason to be mad)

This fic is super sexy. I really enjoyed the erotica and characterization of the two. Vox presents Alastor with a piece of jewelry with his brand on it. Alastor ridicules him for it, but does he really consider the piece as tacky as he claims?

Sinking Funds

Alastor discovers that Vox has given him the most exclusive credit card one can get in Hell and decides to take it for a spin to see how much Vox cares about Alastor spending his money.

You Want It Rough, You're Out Of Bounds

I will forever and always be a huge Mothball Milkshake fan. Any time they write radiostatic, I am running to read it. Here, Moth took a break from Signals to give us a lovely smutty fic. Alastor and Vox have finally started up a relationship of sorts. They've had sex several times but vox has never been able to make Alastor come. He's determined to change that tonight!

Wind Me Up and Break Me Down

Another fic by the wonderful Mothball Milkshake! (As I said, I am their number one fan lol) This is loosely connected to the above fic but can be read separately. Vox ties Alastor up and worships his body.

scatterbrain

This fic is sweet and hilarious. Alastor discovers that sleeping is technically optional in Hell and stops sleeping for several decades. Lilith steps in and forces him to sleep until he is fully rested.

The Merman

For my Vox merman lovers, come eat! Alastor has heard tale of these merfolk and has been working to capture one for study. He stumbles across Vox and he attempts to capture him. Vox is amused and decides to keep the pretty human that tried to capture him.

In Season

This fic is cute and funny! A little cracky but a good read! Vox and Alastor used to spend their autumn rut/heat together since both their sinner forms went into heat/rut at the same time. Even as enemies, they kept this arrangement. As Alastor goes into his first rut after his sabbatical, he fully expects Vox to join him like normal. However, Vox is not happy that he got left in the lurch for seven years and refuses to cave to his desires.

Research and Development

Velvette and Valentino are sick of Vox constantly obsessing over Alastor and order him to do something about it. He ends up creating a virtual reality so that he can finally fuck Alastor and maybe get it out of his system. However, the program seems to have other ideas.

when the flies fell

A modern day human AU wherein Alastor convinces Vox to help him summon a demon. This has worse consequences than either of them foresaw as they race to fix their mistake.

Unfinished

Harlem Sunset

Set after the events of episode 2. Alastor approaches Vox to propose scheduled brawls outside of the city. Vox decides to take him up on it and it sets in motion a chain of events that can't be stopped. Just a small note, none of the fight scenes are on camera, so to speak, in the fic. However, the developing relationship is sweet and I am enjoying it a lot!

My Body, Your Temple

This is a masterfully done human AU set in the 1930s. Vox comes down to New Orleans in an effort to poach New Orleans' very own Alastor Deveaux, Alastor finds him absolutely insufferable. They find themselves drawn into each other's orbit and find themselves tangled in an all consuming desire for one another.

Believe Me, (The Sun Always Shines on TV)

In a fit of rage, Valentino damages Vox's head so badly that he can't fix it himself, so he goes to the one person he knows can piece him back together. Doing so forces both Alastor and Vox to confront the ugly history between them.

Summer Wine

Charlie strikes a deal with Heaven to trial run redemption with a sinner of her choosing. By pure accident, Vox and Alastor are selected instead and must work together as they find themselves back on Earth in the modern day.

Perhaps it's Pedestrian

Okay so I normally have a rule that a fic has to have at least three chapters before I toss it up on the list because I always hate clicking on rec lists that are full of one chapter WIPS. However, this fic is so long and wonderfully written for the two chapters it does have that it deserves a spot so more people can go encourage the author with kudos and comments!

Vox and Val break up again and Vox goes to a bar to drink and find a one night stand. Alastor makes that much harder than it should be to do so.

Animal Natures

Another favorite by the dear lykomancer! This time it's a series. As the title suggests, Alastor goes into rut and Vox helps him through it. Unfortunately, Alastor likes it a little too much and now that's Vox's fault, somehow.

For the sake of research and understanding

Alastor is curious about why others seem so obsessed with sex, so he goes to his good pal Vox to ask him to explain to him. One thing leads to another, and Vox finds himself giving a practical demonstration.

An Unforgettable Debut | 1961

After several years of hard work, Vox is finally ready to launch his own studio and has thrown a huge party to celebrate. Unfortunately for him, someone has ordered a hit out on one of the Radio Demon's companions and he's been caught in the crossfire. Will he be able to make it to his party on time?

Modulation Missteps

I'm really enjoying this fic and the worldbuilding the author has put in to make a comprehensive narrative. This is a Human AU where Vox and Alastor were childhood best friends who separated. Years later, Vox forces a reconnect and they have to work through all the ugly emotions they've both been harboring for over a decade.

Now only dogs follow me (Is He Following?)

Several years ago, Vox was an incredible detective solving serial killer cases until he suffered a mental break and was fired. After finally getting his life back on track, all his progress is threatened as a new killer comes to town and the department needs him again. Luckily, he finds support in his old childhood friend, Alastor.

it's not murder, it's research and waste disposal

Okay so. This guy is dark and very gory. And I do mean that a lot. Please read the tags before diving into this fic, it is absolutely not for the faint of heart and it has even grossed me out a few times. That said, it is beautifully written and the relationship between Alastor and Vox is simply divine.

Vox moves to New Orleans and meets Alastor and immediately falls in love. Alastor wishes Vox would choke and die until he finds Vox attempting to dump a body in the bayou and suddenly Vox is so much more interesting.

@00sukisuki00 @15prime8 @19vv91 @3oddsocks69 @ach0ndrit3 @adeala3in1 @ali3npuppyy @alice-after-dark @alice-on-elm-street @almaquinzel @animefanboy48 @anon4usfickly @arleney @aroace-axolotl @aseplant @av0ryx22 @awasteofyourtime @ayoaloe @az13478809 @barblesgirl @beamie-24 @beloved-riverbank @bigsongtraveler @bookworm-blogs @borckschav @bratpfanne-of-doom @brayanneitor @bruhjoll @burrito-me-batman @bv-l7a @camillekarnage @carchee-sh @catgirl-catboy @celenepolaris @charmeecoffee @cheeseindeed @classystudentmiracleus @coins-that-never-land @cpyclopse @creatrajournal @scrumii @cryptidinprogress @d3ath4mybirthday @dancingafterdark @dancingthere @darkenthusiastearthquake @deaddeerdonoteat @dible-png @diequeeria @dragengyrr

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@grapeflavord @hanarainpour @hardhideoutcollector @hazbinsillynight @hazhotace @hell-fm @henchy5824 @hiddlydiddly @hiemaldesirae @holyvox @honey-bee-lee @hopeful-llama-peach @huzoz @hyenafan @hyliantimelordin221b @hztenko @i-exist-somehow @i-want-more-coffee @idkwhattonamemyself21 @idsrv2bleed @imdoned @imma-potatoo @invisableanimator @issushaim @itcantgetpossiblyworst @jadock-the-wise @janjanjr @kamdensl @kitsunemakina @kiwisheep @ladymomomymomoness @legreenorange @leoandromeda @lilactears16 @lilly3683 @lilypeak12 @lonely-abstraction @loveydoveybugz @lovingtreepeachshark @lucifer-morn-666 @mareneeps @marsbabysblog @maskmasters @matrixbearer2024 @mcarrefour @melodie-33 @moon-kid @moonshroooms @moonstone1627 @morfanerina @morninvio @mortifyingordealofbeinggnome @motherarts @murasakirose080 @musedepandora @mysterybooks-world @mystichideoutcycle @mystudentclodeagle @nadaeday @neph-le-geek @nervousdreampeanut @nightfires @nighthawk9797 @nocakesformissedith @nornpai @ok-average24 @oopsimfade @osssmoth @outrageousbirb @patka300768 @pearlofamphitrite @pedi-bug @pennedinblood @pennytherobot @phoenixdemonqueen @pinkpoffin80-blog @place-holder-name-111111 @planetsofmarz @prince-liest @princess-daisyy @pro-crastinator14 @psi-neko @ptarmy @queenbee5436 @rach172 @rachello344 @rae-does-stuff @ratpink @re-bon-bon-san @realmofvoxtv @ruiky @sassy-radio-hazbin-queen @sassycandypoetry @scribblersvale @shiggyghost19 @sillysimplysilky @sillytheotter @sleepyfolkinthetrees @snuhh @somebody-in-this-world-who-lives @soot-and-salt @spaceaace @sparklingganymede @speedyvoidthing @spinning-all-your-silk @spoondrifts @sqwdkllr @starlightthedaydreamer @starlightthenightwing @starwinterbutterfly @stickycherryblossomobject @subarux99 @superpersonpatroleclipse @sw5t @sweetlittle-fallen-angel @taemakesart @tamdam41 @tarotthrawn @techni-kolor @tekasumili @that-one-fangirl123 @thedragonforest @thegaywarden @thegreatpapaya666 @them-in-stem @therealangeldust69 @thesexydancingcrepe @tigersharktheautisticseawing @torustesseract @tricho-tillo-mania @tristala @twyisontheline @umbreonsrings @unnecessarilysalty @valkyrisms @venusforfran @vibrantvenus @violettestars @vroomiann @vroomvroomwee @waitingforanonshittydayinhell @webstertome @whyamistillhereim23 @witchtig @xenorym @xxfihassubwayxx @yandere-enthusiast @yurisakaki13 @yonderlyporcupine

[lewmagoo]

I saw you were writing blurbs! I was wondering if you can write one for Bob Floyd from the smut list? Number 4, maybe Bob is injured but desperately needs his partner?

slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

he was fine. really, he was. just a little bruised, and very sore. he and phoenix had a close call during training that day, and it had forced them to eject from a jet that was hurdling at breakneck speed toward the earth. bob felt as if he’d been thrown down multiple flights of stairs. he ached in places he didn’t even know he could ache. but that wasn’t even the worst of it. no, the worst part was the look on your face when you’d come rushing into his room. you looked so frightened, and he hated that he was the cause of that fear and worry.

when you got the call that he’d been injured, your world tilted on its axis. thankfully your boss had allowed you to leave work early so you could be with your husband. you weren’t even aware of his condition. all you knew was that there’d been an accident, and that he was in the med bay, and no other details were able to be provided at that time. you were going in blind, unsure of what you were about to walk in on. would he be unresponsive? barely hanging on to life? these thoughts spiraled in your mind as you rushed down the hall toward the room they’d put him in. the only thing that gave you some sense of ease was the fact that he was in a recovery room, and not a care unit.

when you burst into the room, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. he was obviously shaken, and there were some visible cuts and bruises, but he was in one piece, and he was alive. your knees almost buckled, but you pushed yourself forward until you reached him. “oh, bobby,” you whimpered. his eyes filled with tears, and you were quick to sit beside him and carefully wrap your arms around him, wary of doing anything that might cause him pain. “i was so scared. i didn’t know if you were okay or not.”

“i’m fine, sweetheart. just a little banged up.” he leaned over to kiss your head, despite the pain that flashed through his ribs. “one of the engines malfunctioned. we had to eject,” he explained.

“how’s nat?” you inquired, hoping she was fine.

“she’s okay. kind of beating herself up over it, even though it wasn’t her fault. she got us both safely out of the jet, that’s what matters.”

relief settled in your chest at the confirmation that your husband’s pilot was safe. you made a mental note to thank her for keeping your bobby out of harm’s way. “what are they saying as far as when you can be released?”

“it’s up to me. either i can stay for observation or i can sign some papers and get released tonight. i think i’m gonna do that. i’d rather spend the night in our bed than in this stuffy old hospital,” came his response.

that was how you found yourselves heading home a few hours later, bobby in the passenger seat as you drove. you held his hand the entire ride home, unwilling to let go. no words were spoken into the silence of the car. nothing could come close to expressing the way you felt. how terrified you’d been that you had lost him. thank god you hadn’t, but what if still lingered in your mind.

it lingered in his, too. long after you pulled into the driveway and guided him into the house. long after you helped him get ready for bed. long after you got him settled beneath the covers. he kept replaying the incident in his mind. the terror, the adrenaline, the realization that this moment could be his last.

“i was thinking of you,” he whispered. so quiet you couldn’t hear him.

“what was that?” you softly asked as you slid into bed beside him.

his mouth quivered. “i was thinking of you, when i was hurdling toward the ground. i thought…i thought for sure i was going to die. that i was never going to see your face again. hear your voice.” he squeezed his eyes shut, although his tears began to slide down his cheeks. “i-i’m glad it didn’t end that way. i’m glad i get another chance to tell you how much i love you.”

your own tears had begun to fall, and a soft sob escaped your throat. gingerly, you kissed him. tears mixing. mouths absorbing the sounds of each other’s weeping. although you were both reeling from this experience, there was an underlying tone of desperation. it manifested in you carefully climbing into his lap, straddling his hips. in your hands resting upon the sides of his neck, and his upon your hips. and when you parted, you could see it in his eyes. an unspoken need. something so strong and impassioned he could not voice it with mere words.

“please, honey, i…” he couldn’t speak. could barely breathe. suddenly it felt as if his skin was on fire.

“i know,” you breathed against his mouth. “are…are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i’m sure.” trembling voice. barely able to breathe.

once again, you kissed him. you were frantic, yet gentle, as you rid yourself of your pajamas, and guided his soft sweatpants down his legs. lips finding his again, you reached down to wrap your hand around his soft cock, stroking him to full hardness as your other hand came down to prepare yourself to take him. it wasn’t long before you were aligning him with you, and he looked down to watch you sink down onto him. a guttural whimper escaped his throat, and his chest heaved as he let out a sob.

“oh! oh, sweetheart,” he sighed as you sank down fully, body flush with his. he wrapped his arms around your body, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders, holding him close, his head against your chest.

“i’ve got you,” came your whisper of reassurance. you held each other, bodies joined as one. tears streaming down your cheeks. mouths open and hot against each other’s. crying and moaning, breathing words of love and adoration. words of devotion.

“never let me go,” he pleaded. he wished you could hold him forever. that he could stay here in your arms, protected from the rest of the world, basking in the warmth of your love.

“never,” you sighed, hips rolling against his, trying your best not to hurt him. but you weren’t hurting him. far from it. you made him feel more alive than he’d felt all day.

“i love you,” he confessed into the air. “i need you. i never want to live without you.”

fingers laced through his hair, you let your forehead rest against his. “i love you too. never wanna live without you, either.”

the gravity of the situation weighed heavy on you both, but you took solace in this intimate connection. and if only for a little while, right here, connected to each other, you found peace. your bobby was safe in your arms. and you were thanking the stars that they’d seen fit to let him come back home to you.

[vibratingskull]

Hello, hello. I am obsessed with your stories .

I would like to ask you to write a Thrawn x f!reader . Thrawn is in love with the reader, and she refuses him. but she is actually very much in love with him. She believes she would never come first for him and that even she will be expendable to him should it come to that. Which is why she refused him.

Thank you my dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I am sorry for the delay

Thrawn x F!reader

tags : misunderstanding, heart to heart, love confession, (kinda?)hurt/comfort

Your heart is pounding. 

Peacefully seated at his desk, Grand Admiral Thrawn analyzes your latest work. You worked your ass off on these data, crossing all of those dates, GPS coordinates, vids information, and alien propaganda speeches to FINALLY locate the hideouts of those rebels! But you fucking did it! 

You’re not the Chimaera’s Commander for nothing! 

You were so much lower on your latest ship, underestimated and underappreciated. You made one singular mistake in the entirety of your career! And it earned you a transfer to the Chimaera, under then Vice Admiral Thrawn’s command, where a lot of the outcasts of the Navy ended up. A sign of shame and failure, being put under the only Alien of the Navy was worse than being demoted or laid off for some. 

But very quickly 

The tendance shifted. 

Thrawn has a natural talent : to find and refine others’ strengths, like a jeweler carefully polishes a precious gemstone. People who were judged useless under others’ orders suddenly started to flourish and gave good results, incredibly good results even ! Their enthusiasm and motivation crushed at their former posts reappeared, stronger than ever ! 

Thrawn took the losers he was given, nurtured their strong suits, and turned them into one of the most efficient crews the Empire ever had ! 

Commodore Faro and you were prime examples of Thrawn’s strong management talent and leadership. Diminished on other ships, unstoppable on the Chimaera ! 

And when Thrawn reached the rank of Grand Admiral in the record time of a single decade, all the snake tongues were forced to recognize his undeniable success and tactical genius. As they always should have! 

All those factors now make the Chimaera the most requested ship by ensigns and Navy workers of any field. From soldier to machinist, data scientist to engineer, to officer, all come knocking at Thrawn’s door to be part of the crew that will make History with a big H ! 

And you are one of them. Welcomed and guided by the Man himself you are part of his core team, his strongest supporter and follower. You are part of the Chimaera’s crew as you are part of a family, under Thrawn’s wise guidance. 

And… 

If you are honest with yourself and look at the bottom of your soul, the worryingly strong and fast beating of your heart might not just be because of the stress of having your work reviewed by a superior. 

But because of something else entirely... 

Something taboo, that should not exist between a Grand Admiral and his Commander of any respectable fleet. 

But you just cannot calm down your heart when you cross gaze with his shining rubies, you cannot help your blood rushing to your cheeks, the slight wobbliness of your legs, the air getting stuck in your throat when you have to speak to him. 

‘’Very good, Commander (Y/n). A remarkable job of investigation in a record time !’’ Thrawn finally declares, looking at you with a satisfied little grin, ‘’You can be proud of yourself.’’ 

‘’Thank you Grand Admiral.’’ You slightly bow your head to him with respect, ‘’Some data scientists did a wonderful job gathering all of that information, I would not have done it without their efforts.’’ 

‘’You will need to give me their name, so I can keep a closer tab on them.’’ He slowly nods in approval. 

‘’I will make you a list, Sir.’’ 

‘’Did anyone else caught your eyes ?’’ 

‘’Sir ?’’ You demand, ‘’Is it not Commodore Faro’s prerogative ?’’ 

‘’It is. It is also the prerogative of any of my officers I estimate. I value your opinion and judgment more than some of my fellow Grand Admirals, if you notice someone’s good work getting unappreciated I want you to come to me.’’ 

‘’Sir, I think you have no trouble noticing it yourself.’’ You cannot help but chuckle. 

He keeps looking at you, a tight satisfied grin on his lips, soft and found. His eyes seem to shine brighter. 

‘’What?’’ You ask before his insisting gaze, still shaken by your laugh. 

‘’Nothing. I simply enjoy hearing your laugh. It is such a delectable sound, it alleviates my stress and appeases my mind.’’ He tilts his head, focused on you. 

Your smile falters and the laugh dies down immediately. You close back on yourself, pressing your datapad against your chest. 

You cannot permit yourself such things... 

‘’With your permission, sir, I will take my leave.’’ You say, recovering your detached and professional tone, cutting short the conversation. 

His shoulders ever so lightly lower down and his smile disappears, like he is... Disappointed. But his expression remains unshakable. 

‘’Of course, Commander. You may go, I wish you a peaceful and restful sleep.’’ 

You curtly nod, murmur a ‘you too, Sir’ so low you wonder he even heard it, and exit the large office rapidly. You walk swiftly in the long and bright corridors of the Chimaera, a maze you know by heart. 

A maze you now call home. 

Your datapad pressed against your breast as to hide your sprinting heart from anyone who might cross your path you walk straight and fast, head raised high but gaze low on the floor. You gulp with difficulty trying to order your boiling mind. 

Grand Admiral Thrawn is nothing but professional, courteous, and polite. He never makes any crass comments of any kind or insinuations, the only compliments leaving his lips are praises for a work well done or a cunning attitude. 

That is all! 

Except for you. 

It has been several months now since he started to casually compliment you on... Anything really. He always found a little something to compliment you over every day. 

Always respectful and within the bounds of morality. 

He started as with anyone else, a ‘Good work’ here, a ‘Pertinent observation’ there, a ‘successful mission.’ sprinkled in. 

And one day it was ‘This new hair style compliment your features wonderfully.’ Out of the blue and with no warning. He said it casually, with his usual nonchalance and detachment, and you simply assumed he was in an exceptionally good mood to compliment someone for something so mundane and out of his usual zone of comfort. 

But this is highly unusual behavior for him!  

You never heard him compliment anyone’s hairstyle, choice of blush, or capacity to keep their uniform clean. But he started doing it for you. A little one every day, a constant stream of praise day by day... 

And if you brushed it off the first time, the second was heavily suspicious. 

He may slip off one time. But never two. 

It was intentional on his part! It must have been. 

He also started to take more caff breaks when you took one. He always appears three to five minutes after you, takes a fuming cup of caff, engages in some conversation with you, and gets back to the bridge a maximum of two minutes before you, down to the second.  

Sometimes he does not even take a single sip of his drink, preferring to speak with you about the current campaign, but mostly art, his special interest. If you wished to speak about your interests, he becomes absolutely mute. 

But he listens to you rambling attentively because when you come back to the subject a week or so later, he recalls a myriad of details of different importance with excruciating precision about anything you spoke of. 

If you are already talking to someone else, he does not insert himself in the conversation unless invited, preferring to take a seat at a table to sip his drink in complete silence. 

His gaze fixes his cup or the propaganda posters on the walls but always seems to come back to you, like you were a light in the darkness... You can feel his burning eyes on the back of your neck. But it does not feel like a burnt wound. Instead, it simply feels like... A heat source on your neck, a warm point that gently spreads on your skin... And when you spin your head in his direction to spot him, his eyes are back on his cup. 

But you do feel his warm gaze on you... 

You KNOW it. 

For some reason, he is trying to deepen your relationship. 

And while your heart pumps like a machine at that simple thought, you also know you should stifle that hope in its infancy. 

Thrawn... Is a man married to his job. War is the very purpose of his existence and he excels at it, why would he weigh himself down with a relationship? 

He either wants a short casual fling, which you would never guess was his style, or he wants something deeper... A real relationship with you. 

And those possibilities terrify you. 

When you love, you love generously, pouring your very own blood into the relationship, giving endlessly to please your partner. And it cost you a lot in the past, you were used and cast aside after countless times. So many tears were wasted for partners who only saw you as a commodity. You promised yourself to never fall for someone who does not make you their priority anymore! 

But you fell for Grand Admiral Thrawn, despite your better judgment and best efforts. 

He is a man of integrity, intelligence, charisma, and elegance, you did not feel any malice or will to hurt others in him which is surprisingly uncommon in the Navy hierarchy of the Empire.  

And he is very far from being displeasing to look at! His alien features even reinforce his natural charm, his face is harmonious and delicate with sharp intelligent eyes. 

Really, everything seems to make him a wonderful romantic partner in theory. 

But the theory doesn’t account for the first love of his life: work. 

You will never come before his first love, and as a Grand Admiral maybe you should not, but that stabs your heart.  

Once again you fell for the wrong one. 

If only you were smitten, you could manage. But the fact that he seemed to take an interest in you in return, offers you his gentle words and careful attention complicates absolutely everything! 

You should not fall for that trap again! You do not want to! 

But how to refuse such a man? How to look in his carmine gaze and stand your ground? It is demanding a will you simply do not possess, so now you run away from any new attempt from him. You respond coldly and sternly at any non-work related praises and leave the room swiftly. 

He never tries to hold you back, accepting your choice. 

That does not make it any easier for you. If you falter ONCE and give him hope that it is possible, you may fall again and hurt yourself, deeper this time. 

You survived your exes but could you survive Grand Admiral Thrawn’s love?  

Nothing is less certain. 

So you run away like a coward, feeling his fond gaze on your form. 

Never again... 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Thrawn sighs internally, his eyes fixed on the door you just exited through like a persistent image of you would appear to him if he focused on it. 

Again, you fled. 

He is used to it by now. He compliments you on anything not work-related and you shut off completely. 

What did he expect exactly anyway? Love stories between superiors and subalterns in a fleet are such a cliche of movies without any grounds in reality. He heard of some in the Ascendancy and the Empire and none ended well. 

But for some months he had that fleeting hope, that childish wish that something was possible between you two. 

He was the first surprised to realize he had feelings for you. He welcomed you under his commands as every other officer sent to him and you worked together for some time to find your strengths and give you the appropriate post for your skills. 

He was proud to see you grow and mature, witnessing your skills sharpening day by day until you wield them like a deadly blade with the utmost precision. Your true talents were revealed and your name started to be passed around and other ship captains started to court you for a transfer. 

It happens a lot. A lot of officers he trained were transferred to other fleets and he only heard good about them since then, even Commodore Faro was heavily requested by others for her next promotion, and while he would only feel pride and accomplishment to let her go lead her own forces as she deserves to, he only felt a deep and insidious cold course his flesh when your name appeared in the requests.  

At first, he rationalized it. He concluded that it was too soon for you to leave his tutelage yet, he could still teach you more before seeing you fly away. But the more transfer requests he received, the colder he felt, and the more uneasy he was. 

It was like... lacking air. Like he tried to breathe desperately but his throat was so contracted no air could reach his lungs. But those uncomfortable sensations melted in your presence. Next to you, everything felt right and natural once again, like it was meant to be.  

Slowly your grip on his being started to tighten, like a frog boiling in a pot. 

He never felt like that and it was starting to worry him. He could not let a single person have so much power over him, it would be too dangerous for his ultimate goal, but each time you appeared in his field of vision, all his worries vanished and a warm sensation spread in his chest, his heart felt wrapped in silk and everything was good again. 

And then 

The first wet dream came. 

He had some in his early teenage years when hormones did their work as for everyone else. But he always only saw a faceless, nameless figure in his arms at night. And then they just disappeared altogether, promptly sorted and locked in his well-organized mind and no further dream came to disturb his sleep. 

But that morning he was lying in bed, completely dumbfounded. His eyes wide open, fixed on the ceiling he tried to understand what that dream meant. For the very first time, he saw a face. 

Your face. 

So clearly. 

And what a dream it was... 

He observed his trembling hands for a moment, trying to make sense of all of that. Did his control over his flesh and body start to loosen after all this time? 

Was he softening up? 

He greeted his teeth and went on with his day. At that moment, he convinced himself it was lust. 

Just lust. 

Simple in theory but completely new to him, nobody ever disturbed his flesh like that before and it was quite annoying in his opinion. Obviously, it was only his problem, he could not reasonably hold you responsible for the weakness of his mind and body. He must deal with it alone and not let it disturb his focus! 

But he only had to hear your voice... 

Hear the melodic notes of your laugh... 

Admire the light in your human eyes... 

To know that he was in much more trouble than he first thought. 

It was not lust. 

It was love. 

A first for him once again, and at that point he was convinced it would never happen! Not that he would mind, honestly. Heart matters seem more troublesome than anything else... 

But you assuredly walked into his life and as assuredly took his heart from his chest to keep it with you like a lovely thief, you fondly kissing it every day with your perfect lips, making it beat faster, to the point he felt it could implode at any moment. 

That day he complimented you on your new hairstyle. Out of nowhere. He greeted you, let you know how lovely you were, and walked away without any other word.  

Why did he do that? Beats him.  

He saw you and felt the irrepressible desire to compliment you,  but the usual work praises did not feel enough to calm down the raging storm rising in his chest at that moment. 

And it all derailed from here. 

He kept the compliments coming and welcomed your disincarnated embrace in his dreams at night, craving to feel your real arms wrapping around him to hug him. 

He felt the need to follow you when you took your breaks as any minute away from you felt like death. He instigated casual conversations with you, trying to get you to open up to him. But you kept it so clean and professional; Would it be anyone else he would be thankful for that but he wants you to reveal your heart to him. 

He would take anything! Just learning your favorite color would satisfy his cravings for a month. 

You slowly relaxed around him, accepting to speak a bit about yourself, as much as it was morally acceptable for a Commander to say to her Grand Admiral. He noted every minute detail you let escape in his mind with meticulousness, creating a map of you in his head. 

He let you speak, not daring to interrupt you. He could listen to you describing paint dry. 

Of course, he knew how to stop. If you were talking to a colleague he respected your privacy, if he felt you uncomfortable at any moment he would take his leave. 

And for a time he fantasized about waking next to you in the same bed, rings shining at your fingers. And it was sweet and soft... 

But you are not receptive.  

So he buried that dream and slowly prepared to walk away from you. Each time he compliments you your face hardens and your tone gets colder and aloof. 

But for a split second... 

You bite your lips and he witnesses your heart accelerating in his infrared vision. 

And you cannot take that away from him. No matter how harshly you cut the conversation short. Those little compliments are his little pleasures, his only fancy. The only thing he allows himself to savor in secret. 

His eyes fall again on the datapad in his hand. With a gesture of the finger, he swipes the file to let appear the latest captain’s request to transfer you to their ship. 

Soon he will say goodbye to you, but at least he should make sure you get the best post possible... 

------------------------------------------------------ 

“Oh Maker...” Karyn makes her spine pop with a sigh of relief, “Today was long!” 

“Indeed.” You chuckle, “It was pretty dry and boring!” 

You both head to the bar of the officer mess hall. 

“Two beers!” Karyn orders, “I am done with work for the day! I need to relax.” 

Your shift finished 10 minutes ago, you are officially free for the rest of the day, and a fresh beer seems delectable right now! You sit next to your friend, clink your glasses, and take a large gulp with delight. 

“That’s the stuff!” You gasped. 

“True! I need to get drunk tonight or I will go crazy!” Karyn declares slamming her glass down the bar. 

You look at her with silent questions in your eyes, inviting her to speak more. She snarls, licking her white teeth. 

“I feel like the Grand Admiral is trying to slow me down.”  

“What?” You ask incredulously. 

“He interfered so I could not become Commander of Task Force 231.” She reveals, her head sitting in her hand, annoyed. 

You freeze, contemplating what she just said to you. Would Grand Admiral Thrawn truly do that? Voluntarily sabotaging his own Commodore’s career? 

No. 

You cannot believe that! 

“I am sure he had a reason. He is a fair man, you deserve to lead your own troops, maybe he has a bigger plan for you.” 

She turns her head towards you, gauging you up and down before sneering shortly. 

“I forgot who I was talking to.” 

You nudge her playfully, earning another snigger. 

“You know I am objective. Even about him!” You counter. 

“Mmmmh. Maybe you are, maybe not.” She taunts, taking another sip, “All right! I think it is time for some women talks. How things are going with your Chiss?” 

“He isn’t my Chiss, Karyn.” You remind her, “We are not together.” 

“Which is highly surprising in my opinion with how interested he is.” 

Your grip tightens around your glass, your eyes hypnotized by the ale in front of you. 

“He is not interested.” You try to assert. 

“Arh, do not use that charade with me, (Y/n)! We are both past it, he devours you with his eyes and tried an infinite amount of time to speak with you. He never showed such interest in anyone since I work under him!” 

“He is just trying to be friendly.” You recoil more on your seat. 

“Maker fricking... (Y/n)!” She starts losing patience “We both know that is bullshit. I am tired of seeing your beaten puppy look every day, talk to him!” 

“... And say what? Explain to me what I am supposed to say, ‘Sorry, I am in love with you but you’ll probably relegate me to the bottom of your priority list, so no chance?’” 

“Why do you assume he would relegate you to the bottom of his priority list?” 

You turn to her with a raised eyebrow and a tired smile. 

“Because he is a Grand Admiral and married to his job? Because if I did come before his duties that would put us all in danger and jeopardize his entire career? Because it is simply impossible? Because he will not risk his goal for a single relationship?” 

Usually, you love goal-oriented partners, but you just wish they would make some place for you in their lives and not just see you as an appliance to take advantage of. You want them to be your supporter as you are theirs, but you have been let down so many times... 

“(Y/n)...” 

You sigh. 

“It is so hard, you know? To see him every day, to feel his grip around my heart compressing it until no blood is left. I feel like I am drowning in love and despair, I feel his gaze on my skin and I go weak. He plagues my dreams every night and I wake up cold and arms empty.” 

“(Y/n)?” Karyn whispers, “Maybe you should-” 

“It just hurts so much. To have him so close, to see Thrawn every day, excelling in his career and craving he would give me the same attention... Some nights I cry in my bed because I feel so empty.”  

“Hum, (Y/n)...?” Karyn slightly stiffens. 

“But what can I do?” You put your head in your hands with a long sigh “I promised myself not to fall again and I tripped over my feet when I met him. He is the textbook definition of whom I should avoid at all costs but I fell face first in the permabeton. At that point it’s a pattern, I am searching to get hurt. I am weak... I am pathetic but I love him!” You feel sobs rising in your throat and your eyes start to get wet, “Why is it so hard? Why can’t I forget these sentiments with a snap of fingers? Why do I have to live with this? Why-” 

“(Y/n)!” Karyn shushes you with a hard whisper, gripping your shoulder to shake you. 

You turn your head to her and she designates something on the other side discreetly. You turn your head again and almost fall from your stool. 

Right there, at the other side of the bar, a fuming cup of caff in his hand, Grand Admiral Thrawn sits, perfectly calm and composed. 

But more importantly, at eavesdropping distance. 

You immediately focus back on your ale, head full and spinning. 

He heard you! 

You know he did, he always hears everything in a room! 

You are so done for! You are royally fucked! You are so... 

“Maybe he did not hear, maybe he-” Karyn doesn’t have the time to finish her sentence, you get down your stool and leave the mess hall, ditching them both without a single word. 

You need to disappear! And quickly! 

------------------------------------------------- 

Thrawn lifts his cup to his lips elegantly, peacefully sipping the scorching hot caff. 

But inside he is anything but peaceful. 

“I am sorry, sir.” Karyn Faro finally says, tensing up before her full glass. 

“What for?” Thrawn asks, putting his down delicately, eyes fixed on his cup. 

She purses her lips, clearly embarrassed and uneasy. 

“This was not planned.” She explains. 

“I know.” He simply responds, “You are not one to expose other’s affairs.” He reassures her. 

He contemplates his reflection in the dark beverage, the steam lazily rising towards the ceiling while his stomach drops low. 

Is it how you truly see him? How you perceive his personhood? Is it his true value in your heart? 

He did not intend to listen to you! He just wanted to sit in your vicinity while drinking his caff and then anonymously leave without you noticing he was even there, leaving you two speaking peacefully. He did not intend to pry in your private conversation so impolitely! 

But when he understood you were talking about him he could not help but perk his ear. 

He almost froze hearing you professing your love for him and for a split second his soul sang. 

Only for the high to crash down spectacularly with your next words. 

So this is it, then? Your choice is made and your opinion is decided. This relationship will not be? 

You will not give him even a single chance to prove his worth? 

And he will let you go without trying to correct you? 

And everything will be over without even starting. 

You will now avoid him until he accepts a transfer request and he will never see you ever again, only hearing rumors of you thriving away from him, leaving him alone and cold to face his destiny and fate? 

Without your support? 

Without the music of your voice to help him carry through? 

Without the reflection of light in your gorgeous eyes to appease his worries? 

Without the warmth of your reassuring presence at his side? 

... 

No. 

He slams his cup down and stands on his feet. 

“Sir?” Commodore Faro asks as he walks away, decided. 

He can’t. 

This is beyond him. 

This is the first time he is in love, he simply cannot let you go without at least trying to plead his case! 

This would kill him. 

He knew it was dangerous. Deep down he knew that keeping you at his side was not the tactical-sounding choice. He prophetized before that keeping you around would give you too much power over him, but he would lie if he did not admit that he hoped it would happen deep down his soul. That your grip on his heart was as strangling as it was soothing, that a brush of your hand could command his mood. 

Your power over him was nothing about hierarchy, was not wicked or dangerous like those he experienced before in the Ascendancy and the Empire. It was comforting, soothing, soft but strong. 

The kind of power he would submit to with glee because he knew no harm could ever come of it. Because that power was meant to bring you together... 

He just cannot! 

He walks deadly focused ahead, with long strides in the corridors of the Chimaera. His shift resumes in less than 5 minutes but this is the least of his worries right now! 

For the very first time in his life, work will wait. He has to clear the air with you first! 

It doesn’t take too much time for him to find you. He is quicker than you and he would not let you escape like that! 

You are walking rapidly toward your cabin to lock yourself up most probably. Seeing your back walking away from him like that infuriates him somehow, he is offended! 

“Commander (Y/n) (F/n), stop!” He exclaims with an authoritative voice. 

You shudder, but instead of obeying you pick up the pace. 

You...! 

“Commander! I order you to stop right now!” He orders louder, accelerating behind you. 

You take four more steps before giving up and stop. You remain still, back turned to him, awaiting his next commands. 

He approaches you, already regretting his order. He closes the distance between you and places his hand on your shoulder. 

You shudder at the contact and he retracts it immediately. 

“Commander (F/n)...(Y/n), I am sorry.” He finally announces after several seconds of silence and stillness, “I would like to discuss some of your words earlier.” 

“Stop.” you finally speak. 

Thrawn almost gulp at your tone 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“I said stop.” You repeat, “I do not have to hear that.” 

Thrawn squints. This is the very first time you cut him like that. This is the first time a subordinate ever cut him... 

“I can take an earful if I make a professional mistake. But that... You do not have any right to impose that on me.” You explain. 

“Turn around and face me.” He orders softly. 

Your hands roll into fists but you slowly turn toward him. You take care not to look into his eyes, preferring to focus on his Grand Admiral badge. Your lips are pressed in a thin line, displeasure clearly apparent on your face. 

Thrawn refrains from cupping your cheeks in his hands to hold you lovingly. Instead, he claps them behind his back, preparing himself for the battle ahead. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“I simply wish to talk.” He reiterates, “This is not an unreasonable demand.” 

Your nostril flares but you add nothing. 

“(Y/n), is what you said true?” He demands sternly. 

So he did hear you, as you feared.  

“Sir, this is highly unprofessional.” 

“I am aware, but I feel like we need to have this discussion.” 

“No, we do not. If you insist I will file a report for sexual harassment.” You bite back, acidic. 

You need to cut that conversation short. You need to escape. 

“With what proofs?” Thrawn tilts his head. 

The tone is not mocking or threatening, it is calm, assured, and simply factual. You both know you have nothing against him, he never tried anything against your consent and always remained within the bounds of morality. 

“We both know you will do none of that, (Y/n). You are too good to make false accusations on such a grave matter.” 

You greet your teeth as you raise your frowning gaze to meet his. 

“Am I?” 

His stern and cold expression relaxes to let appear a tight, fond smile as the glow of his eyes seems to brighten. 

“Of course. Your ethics are too strong to slander an innocent man and tarnish victims’ testimony of such a heinous crime.” 

You snarl, flashing your teeth to him. 

But you have no rebuttal. He is right. You would not do such a thing to victims who already have difficulties to have their voices heard. 

“I simply wish to clear the air and tell you my truth.” He takes another step toward you, “This is all I am asking for.” 

The smile is gone but quiet hope burns in his red eyes. 

You gulp. You told your sentiments to Karyn, but revealing them to his face, admitting them to his eyes... That would kill you on the spot! 

“I wish to hear it from you. Tell me the truth, please.” He insists with a softer tone 

Almost... begging. 

Your lungs tighten in your ribcage, preventing you from breathing correctly while your throat dries up. You open your mouth be no sound escapes you. 

“Take your time.” Thrawn invites, his eyes shining so bright you cannot see any pupils anymore. 

“What for?!” You spit annoyed, “What would ever come of that discussion anyway?! Our expectations do not coincide!” 

Thrawn seems to tense up ever so slightly at your words, like he was hurt. 

But that would mean you have the means to reach and hurt him, and you seriously doubt you do. Either way, he needs to hear it, you cannot just brush past all that like the world is a wonderful peaceful place. You both have jobs and a relationship would just complicate everything! 

“You do no-” Thrawn stops immediately, looking behind you suddenly, “Someone is coming.” 

You turn your head full of hope. Finally, your ticket to exit that predicament! 

But before you can see anyone or anything you feel a large hand grabbing your arm and pulling you. You yelp in surprise when Thrawn pulls you inside a cramped and dark room and the door slams shut behind you. 

You pull yourself together and realize you are inside a closet. A very small closet. So small Thrawn needs to press you against himself for it to hold you both inside. You gasp, your cheek pressed against his large muscular chest, his long arms wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Sir!” You whisper indignantly, “This is-” 

“Silence.” He shushes you, “They are approaching...” 

You huff but remain silent. After some seconds you can hear a group of people discussing and approaching the door. You tense up, praying no one will open it and bust you in Thrawn’s arms... 

“Relax.” He whispers with his rich deep voice, a hand coming to caress your hair to soothe you like you were a cat or something. 

“This was unnecessary, Sir!” You complain with a low voice. 

“You would have preferred we continue this private conversation with them around?” He responds deadpan. 

You growl, putting your hands on his pecs to put some distance between you, but his grip is firm around you and the closet is really confined. You abandon that idea and give up, awaiting for the group to walk away, and then you’ll rush out and sprint away from the Chiss. 

You try to calm down your beating heart, feeling Grand Admiral Thrawn’s high body temperature through his uniform, your cheek getting pleasantly warm at his contact. 

Is that... Is that his heart that you feel beating against your cheek? 

You refrain from sniggering. Of course, this is his heart, but it amuses you to realize that he does have one... He who is always so stern and cold, detached and unbothered does have a heart after all! 

You close your eyes, silently focusing on the steady drum in his chest. If they open the closet door and bust you, you cannot do anything to stop it now, no use in stressing yourself out or causing trouble in the confined space. 

Did Thrawn feel you relaxing in his embrace? A soft and deep rumble starts in his chest and throat, like a...  

“Chiss can purr?” You murmur flabergasted. 

“Indeed.” He reveals, “Pardon me, I have some difficulties keeping it at bay with you in my arms.” 

You add nothing, too shocked by this revelation. 

“It isn’t... unpleasant.” You finally admit, a bit reluctantly. 

The purr deepens at your praise and he lays his chin on the top of your head. For some second you wonder if he is about to kiss your head, but he remains like that, continuing to caress your hair, unbothered. 

“Why don’t you want to tell me the truth?” He finally asks after a minute of silence, listening to the group that seems to have stopped just before your hiding spot. 

“There is nothing to say.” 

“You revealed your sentiment to Commodore Karyn. Why revealing them to me is impossible for you?” 

You sigh longly, eyes lost in the darkness of the broom closet, trying to formulate a coherent sentence with all those sentiments and emotions raging inside of you. 

“I have been hurt in the past.” You just say. 

“And you are afraid I will hurt you the same?” Thrawn whispers with his rich voice. 

“I am not ‘afraid’ you will, I know you will.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“They did it out of commodity and maybe malice, you would do it out of necessity.” 

“I cannot imagine a situation where I would hurt you, even out of necessity.” He negociates. 

“No, it’s just...” You sigh, taking a deep breath, “I have been used before and now I want someone who would make me their priority, not just an afterthought!” 

His grip tightens ever so slightly around your shoulders and his purr stops, signifying that he is closely listening to our worries. 

“I do not plan to make you an afterthought in any capacity. If we start a relationship I will make sure to take care of you to the best of my capacities.” 

“You are a Grand Admiral, your agenda is full to the brim, and your days are packed. What kind of attention can you still spare at the end of a shift? You will drop like a fly, Sir.” 

His hand caressing your hair stops and sneaks under your chin to make you tilt your head to face him. You press your lips in a thin line as he details your face with his inquisitive gaze, unraveling your soul with his burning orbs, unclothing your heart to reveal every febrile hope and fear. 

"How can you be so sure of those claims?” He simply asks, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. 

“It is simple logic, Sir. You will never put me before your job, and you should not do it. But I need someone ready to put me first for once... Just once.” 

He releases your chin to cup your cheek with his large palm, his thumb caressing your thin skin tenderly. 

“(Y/n), I do not know what the future has in store for us, but I know I will forever regret it if I do not try with you.” He whispers, “You are right, I cannot put you before my work. But that does not mean that you should come after it. I can manage two important matters at the same time, I can take care of you while leading us to victory.” 

“A lot of exes made the same promise and they left me in the dirt when they got bored.” You simply assess, feeling tired of that charade. 

How many times did you dance that choreography already? Too many. 

“(Y/n), do you truly think I would do that? That I would waste both of our time for mindless fun and abandon you after? If I propose to you it is because I am confident in my capacity to give you everything you need. Look into my eyes and tell me: Is this how you think I am?” 

You look into his sihny eyes and sigh. 

“No... I do not think you would do that...” You concede, “You are not malicious.” 

“Then why not give us a chance?” He presses his forehead against yours, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. 

“Because... I could not survive you...” Your throat tightens as you speak. 

“What do you mean?” He demands with a soothing tone. 

“I may have been able to piece myself back together after them... But you, Sir, you would kill me. You would be my death.” You admit, lowering your tone. 

He tilts your head and reverently kisses your forehead in the secret darkness of the closet. 

“Then let me be your life. Every day I will be the force propelling you forward if you accept to intertwine your fate with mine... If you allow me to take your hand I will devote myself to you. You deserve to be loved and cared for, (Y/n) and it would be my privilege to make it my duty.” 

You sigh, tired, but lean on the warmth of his palm. 

“Promise me to think about it, (Y/n).” 

You hesitate, remembering all the tears and sleepless nights. 

But those eyes... So assured and confident, determined and reassuring... 

“... All right.” 

He brushes his nose with yours, his purr resuming. 

“I love you, (Y/n). You do not need to respond yet, just know that I adore you.” 

In the secrecy of that tight closet, you press yourself against Grand Admiral Thrawn, selfishly reveling in the love and warmth that you refuse to give back for now.  

“I do not promise anything.” You temper. 

“I know. But the fact that you agreed to consider it is enough for me. I will patiently wait for you and your response. And whatever your response may be, I will not stop loving you, even from afar.” 

You hesitate but finally wrap your arms around his chest, and think you felt his heart jolt at that, but you cannot be sure. What you can be sure, however, is the resuming of the purring. 

You do not know what the future holds for you, but right now, his embrace is the only place you want to be in.  

Even if it is selfish. 

Even if it may be the only one time you ever feel it around you. 

But maybe... 

Not. 

“If tie your fate to mine, either in love or friendship, I will devote myself to you. I promise you in this instant.” 

And he reverently kisses your forehead as to seal his words. 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @Thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174 @davesrightshoe @Holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 

[overnightheartbeats]

Laurel shook her head before smiling at his question. "Are you disappointed the kiss wasn't my favorite part? Maybe I just need a reminder," she teased. Although, she quickly corrected the confusion. "Sorry, I did mean the Halloween dance being my favorite part of the night though. That time at the Saddle, the kiss took the prize that night." Her head tilted curiously when he spoke of his siblings, she remembered him sharing about his move to Texas. Laurel just wondered why leaving became the choice if it wasn't top of the list. "I get it. It must've been a difficult decision to leave. Would you move back, after school?" She nodded in confirmation, her smile remaining as they talked of her dad. "Yep. I mean, not near campus, but he lives in Austin. I get to see him some weekends, or if he's near campus, we grab lunch." Laurel's happiness couldn't be contained, even now that he mentioned stopping by the diner. "Wait, really? Not because of the special, but just so you can say hi. If you wanted." Her eyes were practically shining with anticipation, the thought of bribing him started as a joke, but now she was eager to put it in practice. "Wow, so free rein in the bribery space. I'll begin thinking of bribing options." A moment was spent trying to decipher if he was serious, and she leaned yes. "Good to know, because now I know I definitely won't keep them to myself."

His head tilt was enough to have her quickly provide more context to her words. He seemed genuinely lost, as if not liking each other wasn't an option. "No no, I didn't mean because of you." She was almost certain there was nothing he could say that would deter her. "I just meant like...you deem I'm too much after you get to know me. Hey, I have confidence in this. Just a smidge of realism." Getting her hopes up would be devastating, but she couldn't bring herself to fall into that rabbit hole. Instead, focusing on his dramatic gestures. Laurel grimaced for a second, wooed with food. "I'll need to learn how to cook more than a grilled cheese." She hoped he meant the different food places she could take him to. If cooking was in question, she had just been given a map to his heart that she couldn't use. Unless she took up cooking classes. Yep, that could be an option. Laurel couldn't help the burst of laughter while he fluttered his eyes. Was it wrong to say that it was hot and incredibly charming? How was she not supposed to fall? "Yup, those eyes. Hm," feigning to be thinking about whether he took the title or not. "Yes, definitely the prettiest I've seen."

"I can never contain my questions, as you've seen, so you won't need to worry about that. I'll ask each time." Her curiosity won each time, and even the awkward questions didn't keep her. His answer surprised her, evidenced by the amused grin that followed. "Really? The way you were dancing, I would've thought it was a main hobby." Being led in the dance floor was definitely a new one for her. "Suitable might be a stretch, but any time you need a dance partner, I'll happily sign up. Why's it boring? There's boring books, sure, but don't know about the whole activity." Not really her cup of tea, too much silence. "I knew you were full of surprises, skiing is an interesting one. Have you been recently? I mean, I know Texas is not really the spot for it." At the question of her own hobbies, Laurel's thoughts ran trying to think of something. Only distracted by his follow-up question, which made her laugh once more, covering her face momentarily. "It's working then? I knew that how-to guide would come in handy," she joked, gaze peeking through her fingertips covering her face, before her hands dropped back on the counter. "But nope, not on my hobby list. That'd mean flirting everywhere, and that's more of a one-person thing for me. I'm trying to find new things to be honest. I did cheerleading way back when, some tennis and that was fun. Lately, books are also making my list." Because of school, but still. "I really like stargazing, not super great at it, but it's nice. The good kind of silence."

"That was your favorite part?" he asked incredulously. "Here I figured the kiss would have made an impression." Eli teased half heartedly. "That makes sense but also I understand. If I could have stayed with my foster siblings I would have. Leaving them wasn't my first choice." But it was the only decision he had to make in order to keep their family from having to take on one more mouth to feed. "I'm assuming your dad lives here?" The manner in which her features lit up told him she was more than excited to see them. "When they come visit you come to the diner. I can swing a two for one special."

He shook his head making a show of it and grinned. "Nope. Not at all. The bigger the bribery the better." Now he was curious as to what she'd have up her sleeve though he kept that part quiet. "You don't have to keep your hands and feet to yourself."

"Why wouldn't we like each other after?" His head tilted like that of a lost puppy. "You have no confidence in this. I'm hurt." he feigned hurt as he dramatically placed his hand over his forehead. "I do like to be wooed. Food is pretty much one of the best ways to get to my heart. See, now you've learned a new fact." In an attempt to make her laugh he stared right at her and fluttered his eyes. "These eyes? You think are pretty?"

"Ask whatever you want. I'd rather be asked than be figured out like 'm a zoo animal." He let out a husky little laugh and nodded. "Consider me a very interested pupil then."

He took an open seat across the counter as he played with the water bottle and set it down. Answering Laurel's question from before had him half grin. "I wouldn't say dancing is a hobby. I do like it but I just don't do it as often. Never had a suitable partner to dance with until Halloween night." He thought to what he liked to do and hummed. "The boring answer is read." At least to others it'd seem boring. "Exciting answer is that I like to ski. One year our family took a trip to Aspen where I saw snow for the first time, I'd seen it before but not like that. I had seen my dad get on a board and swoosh down and thought that was the coolest thing ever. I liked it. What about you? Hobbies include having a strong flirting game?"

[chiveburger]

so... I'm dating this guy now, but I know for a fact that I do not like him as much as he likes me which is on one hand important but also I really wonder if it'll get to a point where I do like him more or if I'll just have to break up with him. It's really difficult for me to recognize signs of when I like someone because I've never liked ANYONE in my life in a romantic way, and my only frame of reference is my situationship who I also had weird vague feelings about. all I know is that I can see myself becoming intimate with this guy, and I like when he messages me first or when he's excited or wants to see me but? I really wonder if I like it because it's HIM or it's because I needed that male attention and validation. he's very open and honest and direct with me in a non-threatening way. he asks me before he does anything like he'll ask me if I'm comfortable with him picking me up or if he can hold my hand and I think that's sweet and considerate but he also kind of smothers me... I also don't think I'm physically attracted to him yet or if I ever will be. maybe I'm simply inept at being someone's girlfriend but I wonder if this is how you normally feel or if I just straight up don't want to be with him 🧐 sometimes I think about what it would be like if I could swap this guy's feelings towards me with my situationship's face and though I can objectively tell who's more handsome I'd probably still choose this guy who likes me. It's too early in a relationship to be conflicted but I am and part of me is just like bitch? do you enjoy spending time with him? yes. do you want to see him? yes. then shut the fuck up??????

[soshirohoshinasimp]

"Everyone's falling in love and I'm falling behind"

It always starts the same way: I watch it happen, and with each passing moment, the ache in my chest grows sharper, like a constant pressure I can't shake.

Another group chat. Another flood of photos, captions, and text updates from my friends. Another one of them sharing that they’ve met someone special, or that they've been on a date, or that they’re "officially in a relationship." The words blur together, the images become a haze of happy faces, intertwined hands, and promises of forever, while I sit here staring at my screen, feeling like everyone is moving forward, and I’m the only one standing still.

I’m happy for them, of course. I tell them I am. I send my congratulations, my emojis, do my best to sound genuinely thrilled for their happiness. But inside, there’s a quiet, gnawing feeling—that something is slowly being chipped away, like I’m stuck in the same place while the rest of the world keeps running.

It’s not that I don’t try. I fall in love easily—maybe too easily. It’s one of those things I can’t control. A smile, a laugh, the way someone’s eyes linger just a little longer than necessary, and I’m hooked. I imagine all the little things before I even know their last name—walks in the park, late-night conversations, whispered secrets in the dark. I let myself dream about everything that could be, even though I’m the only one dreaming.

The problem isn’t that I fall too quickly. The problem is that no one ever falls in love with me.

I try not to think about it. I try to tell myself it doesn’t matter. But every time another picture of a happy couple pops up, or the group chat explodes with excited updates about how “everything just feels right,” I can’t help but wonder: Why not me?

It’s as if I’m watching from the outside, peering through a foggy window at a life I’ll never belong to. Everyone else has found their someone, their partner, their “person,” while I stand alone at the edge of the crowd, half-smiling, pretending I’m fine, even when it feels like I’m not.

The worst part is that no one means to hurt me. They don’t know how their joy, their shared moments of connection, make me feel like I’m missing something I’ll never find. It’s like they’re all part of a club I can’t seem to get into, no matter how hard I try.

There are times when I catch myself getting too attached—when I start to like someone, a friend, a coworker, maybe just someone who’s kind to me. For a moment, I let myself believe that maybe this time, it’ll be different. This time, maybe they’ll see me the way I see them. But every time, I make the mistake of getting too close, of caring too much, I’m reminded that the love I’m offering isn’t what they want. It’s never what they want.

It’s a strange kind of loneliness, this quiet ache. It’s not loud or dramatic. It’s not a storm—it’s more like a slow drip, a constant reminder that I’m not enough. Not enough to be loved. Not enough to be chosen. Just... not enough.

And still, I hope. Still, I fall again.

I can’t stop myself from falling in love with the idea of love. Even when I know it’s unlikely. Even when I see the signs, when I recognize the patterns. Even when I know I’ll probably get hurt again.

I tell myself it’s okay. I tell myself that I don’t need anyone to complete me. That one day, it’ll happen, that one day, I’ll find someone who looks at me the way I look at them. But with every relationship that starts without me, with every “I’m so in love” post I scroll past, that hope starts to feel more like a dying ember, flickering weaker and weaker until it barely gives off any warmth at all.

Everyone’s falling in love, and I’m falling behind.

I tell myself I’m fine. That I’m strong. That I don’t need anyone else to feel whole. And in the rare moments when the ache doesn’t feel so sharp, I almost believe it. But then another couple announces their engagement, or another friend talks about how perfect their date was, and the ache comes back. A little sharper. A little louder.

I’m happy for them, of course. I’ll always be happy for them. But as I sit there, scrolling through their pictures, their stories, their dreams, I can’t help but wonder: When will it be my turn?

Is it too much to ask for, for a person to give me the love I give out tenfold? Or am i just stuck in my own delusions as usual.

But for now, I’m just waiting. And everyone else is falling in love.

And I’m falling behind.

[bluestjayy]

Life update:

I didn't make my deadline.

After approximately 200 applications, only 6 (first stage) interviews, 3 (second stage interviews), and more rejections than I could cope with some days, I unfortunately haven't been able to find a job since being laid off in September. This means I can no longer stay in my apartment. Which. Sucks.

I'm lucky enough to have my parents to fall back on, so I'll be moving back to their bungalow until I can find something to support me and save up enough money to come back to the city, so that's something. But it's also not going to be great for me while I'm there.

My hometown is an incredibly small mining town in the rural north-east, it's ridiculously close minded and conservative. I'm not out to any of my family for this reason, so I am for sure signing up for a minimum of a year being misgendered and stomaching casual bigotry from everyone I'm surrounded by.

And I love my parents, but our relationship isn't the best. They have a lot of really unhealthy, toxic, and occasionally abusive behaviours, and the way they treat each other and me is really... well it's not always good. Which is part of the reason I not only moved out but to a city that's 3 hours away in the first place. Their home is not intended for anyone but the two of them, it is incredibly small, and I will be living in a second room that only fits a camp bed and a small desk with very little privacy as this room is also where some of the utilities are. It's something, and I am so lucky to have this option at all vs complete homelessness. But I also know the toll this is all going to take on me physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I have already had to start looking at my current possessions, over 4 years of the life I built here, and decide which parts I get to keep and which I now have to leave behind.

Being back there is going to be... I don't know. I get into dark places whenever I go home for the holidays for a few days so living there again... I really don't know.

I guess the only thing keeping me going is the idea I will be able to come back to the city I'm in right now, the one I call home, eventually. It's just going to take some time.

And I have a plan, I am already job hunting for remote roles I can do back there, I'm open to taking on two or three if necessary, and I've started working on opening an Etsy store for some of my crafting creations that may also help me fundraise the money to leave a lot faster. Perhaps I'll even consider commissions again.

But it's definitely going to be a long long year getting myself back on my feet again.

One of the only upsides currently is how much time I have to be working on fic and art (whenever the muse allows me!) so that's something I guess haha.

Anyway, thoughts and love and support and virtual hugs go a long way for me rn, and if you're so inclined (absolutely 100% not necessary but every little helps) here is the link to my tip-jar:

Ko-Fi

Even just giving this post a share would really help me right now. Those who know me know I find it really difficult to ask for help even when I'm in desperate need of it but I think, after six weeks of this reality slowly creeping up on me, I have reached a point where I am ready to say I really need it.

The fandom communities I have found myself in the last year have been an absolute rock for me. And I am so glad I get to be a part of them with you all.

In the end, it will be okay. That's what I have to keep telling myself. Positively rebellious and rebelliously positive.

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day and I appreciate you all so much 💛

[sulky-cabbage]

The sukugo fight can't get animated any sooner I'm craving sukugo tiktok edits

[isfjmel-phleg]

🚲

[burger-goblin]

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