#good luck trying to prove that you can IN FACT hold his hands when he apologizes quietly for the cold and looks away. good fking luck

[ccaptain]

Trying to hold H:SR Kaeya's hands, if gloveless, will be an uncomfortable experience.

Unfortunately for the lovers of this trope, at worst the experience is akin to holding something straight out of a freezer- the cold peak worsens after a prolonged use of his power and without a dip into the Misty Sea- or at least a small soak in the water he carries with him, coming exactly from that place. By this point, the blue-ish hue has started to bleed down his knuckles, and the cold will seep through his gloves. Despite the alarming temperature, it's worth noting that his skin is smooth and pleasing to touch, with a few old scars on the back of his hand to explore. The phenomenon also stops at his hands- any other part of Kaeya is free to hold, and has a normal temperature.

Needless to say, Kaeya's gloves are thick and temperature resistant specifically to keep his situation from worsening further. Holding hands with him skin on skin is not possible unless someone has mastered a certaint endurance to frosty temperatures, and/or has no specific nerves in their hands that feel the effect of his condition.

Hand-holding is a kind of intimacy that he's just too considerate of the other person to entertain himself with.

[wttcsms]

i'll pretend you'll stay forever ; kento nanami.

pairing kento nanami x f!reader  word count 2.4k  synopsis no one knows that the bodyguard for the prime minister's daughter fucks her on a daily basis. content contains bodyguard!nanami x prime minister's daughter!reader, big, beefy, strong nanami hehe, creampie, slight brat taming, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), cockwarming, dom!nanami, hair pulling, car sex, nanami makes you call him sir author's notes s2 was animated for the nanami girlies

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

Granted, he’s been practically bred for the position. Born and raised by a mother and father who also dealt in espionage, sent to boarding schools that would feed him directly to The Academy, constantly being reminded of his purpose. Agent Nanami serves as one of the Prime Minister’s most trusted secret operatives. A select few who are given the most sensitive assignments. 

“K-Kento — too much,” your shaky whines sound even louder than they actually are, emphasized by the silence in his car. 

Sensitive — yes, that’s what you are. 

“You can take it.” He tells you, gently stroking your cheek. His calloused thumb wipes away a stray tear, and he takes you in. You’re still tearing up, your lashes slick, and you’re pouting at him. You’re always pouting, probably because growing up, you’ve never been told no. It’s not required according to his assignment file (most of what Nanami has been doing with you has decidedly been not required), but Nanami’s been trying hard to give you lessons that will have you behaving politely and like a good girl rather than the spoiled brat you actually are.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

When he’s told that he is to be the primary bodyguard for the Prime Minister’s daughter, he accepts it without hesitation. Everyone else has had no luck with you, and you certainly don’t seem to be bothered by that fact. You’re in college now, and you want nothing more than to skip lectures and go to parties, both of which is rather difficult when you have a bodyguard watching your every move and reporting directly to your father.

Nanami goes about his assignment in a different way. There’s another bodyguard, one who is also watching you, but young Itadori cannot possibly go about protecting the Prime Minister’s most beloved daughter safe all by himself. He’s barely graduated from the Academy.

Besides, you automatically dislike any of the guards assigned to you. Itadori is a nice, young man, and in different circumstances, everyone is certain that you would have enjoyed his company. The fact that his job is to protect you seems to be his only fatal flaw in your eyes.

Nanami is no stranger to undercover work, and so posing as a final year doctoral candidate at the university you’re attending is an easy cover. Setting up the perfect chain of events that leads to you specifically choosing him to be your economics tutor was also an easy enough task. 

And somewhere along the lines, you got this idea inside of your pretty, little head that you’re just the smartest, sneakiest girl around. You think you’re evading Itadori’s watchful eyes, taking advantage of his rookie status even though he’s always aware you’re “sneaking off” to meet with Nanami. You think you’re finally rebelling against your father’s strict instructions to stay out of trouble. 

And while Nanami does ensure that you keep out of trouble, he’s not sure if your father will approve with how he’s keeping you so obedient.

Kento Nanami is good at his job.

You’re not the first brat that he’s had to train, but you’re proving to be quite the star student. You hold back any more whining complaints, and instead, you’re straddling his lap like the good girl he knows you can be, his thick cock fitting snugly inside your pussy.

Both of your hands are clutching onto his broad shoulders, your pretty, manicured nails digging into the stiff cotton of his blue button-up. His mind doesn’t register the sting of your nails practically sinking into his skin. All he can focus on is what a pretty, dazed little mess you are. 

“See?” He coos, sounding not the least bit condescending. The warmth of his baritone, the reassuring strokes on your cheek — Nanami is a gentleman. You practically beam with pride as he tells you, “I told you you could take it. Such a good girl.”

You still haven’t moved yet, and Nanami whispers more words of praise for you. It only took two weeks of training to get you to understand that you can beg for his touch, his attention, his cock, all you want, but he gives it all to you under his terms and conditions. He knows you want some friction, knows that you need it so badly because why else are your walls clenching down so heavily on his length? You’re being so patient with him that he feels himself getting impossibly harder at the thought of your perfect behavior. 

“You want to ride me, baby?” The question comes out as a throaty whisper, the clear desire he has for you evident in his rough tone. 

You nod eagerly, damn near salivating at the thought of finally being able to take what you want. 

“Use your words.” He demands, moving his hand to caress your face once more before letting his thumb toy with your bottom lip. 

“Yes,” you whimper out, trying your hardest to resist the temptation to start moving, to have the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls, in and out, in and out.

His eyes narrow, and his cold demeanor is enough to keep you frozen in place. Oh, you’ve upset him. 

“You were being such a good girl, too.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “When you answer me, what are you supposed to say?”

“Y-yes, sir.” 

“And if you knew this, why didn’t you say it the first time?” The way he snaps at you shouldn’t give your tummy butterflies, but it does. Nanami is far kinder and gentler than he lets on, and it’s why you enjoy it when he takes on such a demanding role when it’s just the two of you. No one can handle your attitude as well as Nanami, and that’s precisely why you’re warming his cock right now, walls tightening around him with every stern scolding that leaves his mouth. 

“You can’t answer me?” The sharpness of his tone turns you demure, making you turn your head down and away from him, refusing to answer or look at him, and he frowns at that. You feel him wrapping your hair around his hand, and the movements are soft, slow, gentle at first—

—and with speed and dexterity that shouldn’t belong to a mere student, he’s yanking you by your hair, forcing you to snap your head up and look him in his cold eyes. 

“You were behaving so well earlier.” He feigns disappointment, but the hungry glint in his eyes tells you that he’s been looking forward to whatever punishment he has in store for you. “What a shame. I was going to let you have me however you wanted, let you take control for once.” He leans down, whispering in your ear. “Instead, it looks like I get to fuck you like the bad girl you really are, hm?” 

Before you can protest, apologize, beg for mercy, he takes his free hand to grip your waist, strong enough to lift you slightly off of him, only to slam you back down on his dick. 

You let out a strangled cry at the sudden intrusion. It’s one thing to have him sink into you inch by inch; it’s another thing entirely to have him practically impale you with his dick.

His thrusts are rough, hard, unforgiving. Never sloppy, though — Nanami’s much too meticulous to reduce himself to a wild animal, even though he’s fucking you so hard, you can’t tell if he hates your guts or just wants to rearrange them. 

His hand is still tangled in your hair, and he pulls some more, forces your neck to arch up. He leans in, licking at the soft skin of your neck before nipping at the skin, hard enough to leave a mark you’ll need to cover up with a turtleneck because no amount of concealer can save you now.

You mewl in pain at the sensation, but it’s obvious you love it. You’re dripping all over his dick, forcing wet, squelching sounds to fill the car every time he moves inside of you. You should be ashamed — would be ashamed — if only the overwhelming pleasure didn’t leave your mind shrouded in a hazy mist of lust and rapture. The pinpricks of pain from how he’s pulling your hair and from the fresh lovebites marking your flesh should hurt more, but you’re too lost in the way his cock is filling you up. 

“Look at that.” Nanami growls, untangling his hand from your hair in favor of putting his fingers to better use: stroking your clit. “You’re fucking soaked.” You look down as he commands, and your eyes widen in surprise, even though it shouldn’t come as such a shock to you. The front of his trousers is absolutely drenched with your juices, and your clit practically glistens in the faint moonlight that sneaks past the tint of his car. “Is this why you like to be a bad girl? Because you like getting fucked like a fleshlight, is that it?”

You want to shake your head no. You want to tell him that you are good, that you’re not a bad girl. But the stimulation on your clit, his harsh words, the way his cock is repeatedly hitting that special spot of yours — it’s all too much for you to handle.

“I want to treat you so well, baby. I want to spoil you, give you everything, but you make it so — fucking — difficult.” He speaks through clenched teeth, the warmth and ecstasy of being buried in your sweet pussy slowly chipping away at his resolve. The last three words of his sentence have all been punctuated by a particularly brutal thrust, and you’re certain that by the end of this, your cunt will keep the shape of his cock forever.

“I’m sorry!” You scream out, tears flowing freely down your cheeks now. The pleasure is mind-numbing, earth-shattering, reality-altering. Neither of you know what you’re apologizing for. Is it for being a bad girl when all Nanami wants is for you to behave so he can bring you the world at your feet? Is it for the wet mess you’re making all over his nice clothes and cock? Or is it for the fact that you’re breaking a cardinal rule, one that he will be most displeased by?

Maybe it’s all of the above, but if you had to pick, the apology would be for the fact that you’re cumming without permission. Your conscious mind is aware that Nanami is not going to be very happy with you, but this climax has you seeing stars. You can’t find it in yourself to worry about future consequences when you’re losing yourself in the throes of passion and pleasure. You’re drenching his cock in your cum, seeing stars, and reduced to feeling like a boneless mess. You slump against his strong chest, eyes struggling to remain open as you rest your head on one of his big, broad shoulders.

The punishment doesn’t come immediately — it rarely ever does. Nanami bides his time and doles out his punishments when you least expect it. He does it to keep you on edge, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you. 

Instead, he lets you rest against him, reduced to nothing more than a little, fucked-out mess. You feel a rumble from his chest, a series of grunts and curses leaving his mouth as the bucking of his hips is done so harshly, you’re certain that you’re going to be bruised everywhere, from the soft flesh of your thighs to your poor cervix. A few more thrusts and Nanami is certain that he is planted as deep as he could go, the tip of his cock hitting you at your most sensitive spot. 

You feel him bury his face into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and the lingering aroma of sex and sweat. His cock throbs in sporadic bursts, and you hear him grunt out your name like a broken prayer.

He cums, unloading a hot, heavy load directly inside of you, flooding you. You think you forget how to breathe, and all you can do is just take it, take all of him.

The warm sensation has you moaning softly; the feeling of him completely dominating your senses, your body, you, has you wanting him to never let you go, to never leave. You tighten your core, trying to squeeze more of his cum into you as he lets out little groans of pleasure from above you. You love reducing him to a moaning mess, reducing him to this sex-dazed state whenever he lets go because of you.

You don’t think you’re capable of speech, throat raw from your previous screams of pleasure, but you find that you don’t have to speak to let Nanami know what you want. As you lift your head from his shoulder, relishing in the sight of Nanami with his head leaned back, cheeks flushed from the exertion of giving you the best dick of your life, he opens his eyes to meet yours. Leaning down, he captures your lips and gives you a messy, sloppy kiss that is so unbecoming and out of character for him. 

The makeout session lasts until your eyes feel droopy and you’re not responding anymore. Nanami just looks down at you with a fondness that he hasn’t felt for anyone else in a while. You’re all tuckered out, and you’re breathing softly and slowly, lost to the world of dreaming. He’s a bit exhausted, too. He should pull you off his cock and buckle you back safely in the passenger seat, but he sees a small trail of his cum dribbling out of your overstuffed pussy and he figures it’s less of a mess if he just keeps you nice and plugged up for the time being.

Before he can close his eyes and join you, the crackle of his telecom planted in his watch comes to life. The static doesn’t do much to alter Itadori’s voice.

“Y1 to K1, this is Y1 requesting status of the Princess. Over.”

The “Princess” is currently dozing peacefully with his cum settling in her cunt. Nanami thinks that’s too crude to relay over the comms, though.

“K1 to Y1, Princess is secured. Over.”

[leclsrc]

masterlist

writing for charles, carlos, max, & mick (subject to change)

minors dni. everything can be found here ↓

✳︎ fics, long

charles leclerc...

blurred lines (18+)

Things with Charles finally come to a head. In a cramped room. In the Red Bull garage. Of all places, really.

see it through

You go from social media manager to girlfriend in under a day. Keeping up appearances for Charles’ family isn’t easy, until it is – and until they’re not really appearances anymore.

sweet pea

You finally reap what you sow after fooling around with your best friend. The reaping in question is a kid.

stay, at least for breakfast

You love once and miss always.

you know it (18+)

Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.

wait and see

The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.

low down (18+)

A lot can happen under an hour. You and Charles, self-proclaimed pros at sneaking around, can attest to this.

it's never over (18+)

You must have lost the plot along the way, because pretending to date your childhood best friend was not on your 2023 bingo card. (Neither was the fact that things are looking a lot more real as time passes.)

team effort ft. carlos sainz (18+)

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but now you’re in-between your boyfriend and his teammate again. So really, maybe, this could become a regular thing.

like you should

If you don’t learn from history, it’ll stick around and find a way to repeat itself – even if the history is with your boyfriend’s rival, and its repetition happens behind his back.

max verstappen...

low life (18+)

You really don’t like Max Verstappen. What you’re doing in his hotel room is a separate issue.

↳ part 2, reciprocate (18+)

You have trouble maintaining your vow of Max celibacy when you’re on vacation together.

mick schumacher...

mr. nice guy (18+)

Mick Schumacher is the paddock’s golden boy. He likes upholding this reputation, but there’s something nagging at him lately that makes it... difficult.

carlos sainz...

a certain romance

A love affair is never an easy thing to keep under wraps. Or, the four times your two brothers almost catch you and Carlos together, and the one time they finally do.

has yet to pass

Four years after an angry breakup, the universe is bored enough to nominate Carlos Sainz for GQ Sports’ Man of the Year and assign you to be the writer of his profile.

team effort ft. charles leclerc (18+)

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but now you’re in-between your boyfriend and his teammate again. So really, maybe, this could become a regular thing.

do you want it? (18+)

Whatever preconceived notions you have about your summer at the beach house are all toppled over when your parents announce the arrival of a guest, who happens to be your dad's friend. title from this

✳︎ drabbles

charles leclerc...

forever ago

↳ part 2, fin de siècle

motorsport ft. carlos sainz (18+)

everyone adores you

all my trying

the moment divine

words unspoken

things lovers do

something

overly sincere

the final frame

keep a place for me

honeymooning

proving my devotion

main dans la main

misspelled (dad charles)

presents

felt the rush (18+, sainz reader)

my own doing (18+)

olive you

divine sense

first words (dad charles)

take a chance on me

say it all

test run

guessing game

intertwined

name calling (wolff reader)

what you know

max verstappen...

self professed

carlos sainz...

silver lining

motorsport ft. charles leclerc (18+)

kissy spells

saving grace

need some patience (18+)

what i feel for you

brought me here

↳ part 2, kind of love

i knew you

guessing game

in my dream

mick schumacher...

you’ve been waiting (18+)

hold my hand

✳︎ instagram aus

charles leclerc...

is that you?

at sea

say cheese

good luck

ahead

#ItGirl

cutie

archived

↳ part 2, what once was

↳ part 3, mardy bum

spill the tea

deleted

maneater

kazoo'd

carlos sainz...

national holiday

tiktoked

↳ part 2, sneaky

↳ part 3, upgrades

max verstappen...

no clue

mick schumacher...

secret

✳︎ etc

auds’ recs tag

auds ask game

celebrating 1k, 2k, and 3k :)

[ranpazz]

𝖱𝖺𝗇𝗉𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 ✦ 𝖲𝖥𝖶!𝖵𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇

Boyfriend!Ranpo is the type of boyfriend who will definitely whine, pout, and throw a tantrum if you don't give him what he wants.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who will take any chance to use the fact he's the world's greatest detective, or that he completed a case so you can praise him. (plz praise him he deserves it)

Boyfriend!Ranpo will not hesitate to kiss the sugar on your lips after you eat something sweet. It's not his fault they taste so sweet! "C'mon, one more kiss? Pleaseeee?"

Boyfriend!Ranpo definitely needs to be reminded to eat regular food. The last time he had a proper meal is literally unknown. Although he'll pout and complain how he doesn't need real food because he's the greatest detective, but with enough persuasion – and a promise of candy and a kiss later – he'll eat whatever you made/brought him.

Boyfriend!Ranpo is the type to randomly hop on your back or into your arms and demand to be carried. He's like the Disney princesses who get picked up and spun around. If you refuse, be prepared for an entire day of whiney and pouty Ranpo.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who refuses to go to sleep without a goodnight kiss. Poor baby can't sleep without it. "I can't sleep without your kiss. Just one. That's all I want."

Boyfriend!Ranpo who's the living embodiment of a koala. He definitely clings to you no matter the situation. Oh you're working on a case? He's in your lap. You want to take a nap? He's on top of you with his arms around you, and he's not letting go. You're baking something? He's already behind you with his arms around your waist waiting to lick the spoon.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who can read you like a damn book. Don't think you can get away feeling some type of way around him – he will figure it out.

Boyfriend!Ranpo pinches your cheeks to get your attention. If you're zoning out, he'll poke you or pinch your nose.

Boyfriend!Ranpo despises when you come back from a mission injured. At first, he'll claim that if it were him, they never would've touch him. But once he realizes that he could've lost you, he clings to you more than before.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who, even though doesn't share his candy, will leave a piece for you when you're about to leave for a mission. It's his good luck charm to you.

Boyfriend!Ranpo loves making you ask for something even though he knows exactly what you want. This man is just as much of a tease as Dazai, if not more.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who will not hesitate to search up the entire encyclopedia and concrete facts when you somehow manage to prove him wrong.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who holds your hand on the train so he doesn't get lost – he says it's for your sake but we all know better –

Boyfriend!Ranpo who will point out every minor detail in a horror movie. He definitely complain how the mc does the dumbest things. "How does she trip? There's nothing to trip on-" "If that were me, I'd survive easily."

Boyfriend!Ranpo will rant to you about his cases, or even how the police should've called for him instead of trying to work it out themselves.

Boyfriend!Ranpo who's definitely a sucker for your touch. He'll do anything to have your fingers gently raking across his scalp.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt :Everyone always makes the joke that Wild and Hyrule are the most likely to get kidnapped

But in their literal game mechanics and the lore of the games

Hyrule must run from anyone and trust nobody or someone could hand him over to ganon he definitely is really skittish about trusting anyone but when he sees someone help him he does trust them a bit more (he knows the concept of stranger danger and had to become a master at it or else it was game over)

Wild literally just has to throw a banana and you can almost always tell it is a Yiga even before you even pull out said banana (it is part of the game mechanics after all)

But you know who is the one who actually canonically is the most likely to get kidnapped and not notice it at any point during the entire process

Wind who has jumped on the boat of sketchy old man and pirates during both his adventures

Like he was extremely lucky that nothing ever happened to him

And he probably doesn’t know the concept of stranger danger because nobody on the island is a stranger or dangerous to him how would he even figure out if nobody is telling him about it or showing it

Like the first thing he does when the game starts is run up to a random girl who has fallen from a tree then she turns out to be a pirate and even if she has told him the truth about the kidnapped girls

You don’t jump on the boat of a pirate no matter how nice they seem (for all we know she could have orchestrated this situation to kidnap him and it is pure luck that she was just nice like that )

Essentially because later during the failed heist he gets throw across the sea he literally just wakes up on a different boat with no record of how he got there and instead of alerting anyone (because Wind fell island has a prison so he could have told the guards that a random guy had him on the boat and all that) he breaks fucking tingle out of the cell just to buy a sail for the weird talking boat and then continue on with just the two of them together (like I get desperately trying to save his sister but telling a guard or two that your sister got kidnapped and that you are saving her to make sure that at least a few people will know where you are like grandma definitely doesn’t know that you no longer are with the pirates)

And even more unhinged is the fact that tetra is not a good person at all she has interrogated a guy who wouldn’t sell her bombs which should have tipped Wind of as a red flag she has scammed a rich man out so much that he lives as a beggar with his daughter (also a thing that makes it more vague than ever to know what she would have done to his grandmother like a promise telling him she would bring his sister back safely is very dubious)

Also he canonically has repeatedly went to tingle's tower and asked him to translate the triforce charts (like that is tingle and nothing more has to be said)

Like Wind has the most luck known to mankind

It also somehow gets even worse because during phantom hourglass he and tetra are on the boat (which understandable because she proved that she is someone you can trust and a good friend)

And after waking up on a random beach the first thing you do is go into an old guy’s storage unit to get his sword (and somehow again not get mugged , kidnapped or trafficked because you never go somewhere alone when a single person is aware of it with no weapon especially when someone told you to go there )

Then he went with a different shady guy he just saved at the temple who genuinely looked like a problem in the making (and it was a problem in the making like I love linebeck he is a father figure for wind but also he did have the problem with his ex who wanted to kill him and he looked really shady and you would not have been able to escape if he did kidnap you because you are on the sea )

Like obviously Wind hasn’t learned his Lesson at any point in time because every time it went well

But with Yiga nothing goes well with them

He would probably hold hands with them as well and any other kidnapper would have a very easy catch

He probably joined the chain in less then a second without any form of self awareness (like everyone definitely was nervous with each other but not Wind he heard they said everyone else can sleep while another takes watch and planted his face on a pillow and was just out like that while everyone else was uneasy and didn’t sleep well or also took watch to make sure they won’t be killed in their sleep)

The chain really has to teach him that lesson (for the sake of like literally everything he has ever done because that luck will run out at some point)

Like Warriors definitely is seeing Wind go with literally everyone and not understanding why like that looks like a trauma response (it is just wind with over 12 years never learning about stranger danger and a big misunderstanding but also not really wrong )

[daydreamingyuta]

NCT as Husbands Series: Haechan

summary: fluff, drabble, husband!haechan wc: 676 nct as husbands masterlist

The thought of Haechan as a husband has my hearttt! The way that marrying him would be like marrying your best friend 🥹

He would be his clingy and cuddly self with you. like sometimes he just sees you and has to hug you, or kiss you, or tell you how beautiful you are. He would also just fall in love with you all over again every time you do something that he thinks is cute!

He also has his hands on you at all times. I think this is both a comfort thing for him, but it's also a small gesture to let you know that you're his person, the person he wants by his side at all times. Usually this is shown by him placing his hand on your thigh when you're at dinner with friends, or intertwining your hands together as you walk in the park, or absentmindedly playing with your hair as you two watch a movie.

I think there's also a big part of him that strives to make you proud. like when he married you, it gave him a whole new reason and perspective as to why he wants to excel and try his absolute best at everything he does.

Haechan also just has soo much love in his heart and I think that he would absolutely strive to take care of you. Even if that just simply means making you laugh everyday or making sure that you know exactly how loved you are by him.

You search the coffee shop for the best seat while Haechan goes up to the counter and orders for the both of you. There's a fair amount of people at the cafe, but it just so happens that your favorite spot in the whole restaurant is one of the only places that's free. You couldn't believe your luck as you hurry to sit down at the table right next to the window and the fireplace. You place your coat on the back of the chair and then wait for Haechan, passing the time by looking at your phone. You see Haechan approaching out of the corner of your eye so you set your phone down, but he doesn't immediately sit down in the seat across from you. "Hi." He says, still standing up and holding the two coffees in hand. "Hey, sit." You gesture to the seat, a little confused, but you understand what he's doing when he pretends to act shy at the request. "Wow, thanks." He says, finally taking a seat. "I just wanted to say, I come to this coffee shop a lot and you are the single most stunning person I've ever seen here." You laugh at his words, knowing that he likes to play this game sometimes where he pretends you don't know each other and you're meeting for the first time. You're not sure why he does it, maybe it's because it always makes you laugh. "Why, thank you. but I have to be honest with you." You say, playing along. "I'm married." You show him your ring that he gave you to prove this fact. "Oh, I'm sure he won't mind us having a friendly chat." "I don't know, he can be quite jealous." "Hmm." He hums, knowing not to try and deny that fact because he's proven it to be true many times. "Do you think I'm more handsome than him?" You take a moment to think about how he wants you to answer this question while you take a sip of your coffee. "No, sorry I only have eyes for him." You can tell by the smile on his face that you had chosen the right response. He must have decided that it was time to break character because he leans across the table and gives you a kiss which makes your cheeks flush from the unexpected affection. "Is your coffee good?" He asks, changing the subject. You nod your head, the both of you falling back into normal conversation as you enjoy the rest of your coffee date together.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Idk bout you but I’m a sucker for possessive men, so I’d like to ask for some jealousy HCs for the JJK men. Thank uuuuuuu muah

My darling, I'd like nothing more than to give them to you 💜

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna

Satoru Gojo

Gojo likes to think he’s not possessive at all. Key word: Think.

In reality, he’s deeply insecure, convinced he’s not good enough for you, and is obsessed, extremely concerned with not losing you.

This unholy concoction has led to an extremely possessive man.

Now, to be fair, He’s pretty good about keeping it in check. He’s not going to lose his mind cause he saw some asshole checking you out at the supermarket. He’s better than that.

Now, if said asshole tries to talk to you, that’s a completely different story. Then he’s literally grabbing you, arms around your waist and actively trying to give you a hickey while you talk to his new number one enemy.

And good fukin luck to you my friend if you call him out on it, cause now he’s convinced you liked that guy too.

Especially early on in your relationship, when he’s still guarded because he’s scared of getting hurt, he’s going to be straight up toxic about it. 

“No, it’s fine, really. If you like him so much, go talk to him. I just wanna know when you stopped caring about me.”

Honestly, you’re better off leaving him alone to let him work out his own shit. He’ll realize he was being an idiot, no doubt helped by the fact that you’re still here, but it’s gonna take 2 hours minimum. 

Gojo is not about to start a fight over some douche bag flirting with you. Mostly because he can not catch another a case. But that doesn’t mean he’s just going to sit by and let it happen, nay nay dear reader.

No, he’s just also going to also talk part in the conversation. Wrapping an arm around your waist and finding any excuse he can, no matter how weak, to drop the fact that he’s your boyfriend.

The exception being the moment the other person puts a hand on you. The moment that happens, all bets are off, and I hope you have bail money. He’s not going to murder them probably but you’re for sure going to be dealing with assault charges. 

Also, not to get NSFW, but the sex after? When He feels like he has to prove to himself he’s good enough for you and remind you that you belong to him? Good luck bestie.

Suguru Geto

This man is nothing but jealous all the time. If he had it his way, you would never leave the bedroom. . 

He’s quick to lay his claim on you. Holding you close to him and kissing you mid sentence so that whoever the person flirting with you is get’s the point. 

Afterwards though? On the way home? Silent treatment. When you do get him to talk?

“I just don’t understand. Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Yea, he’s gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing YOU into apologizing to HIM. 

I really can’t see this man as anything other than toxic, my god. 

Still, he doesn’t put up with anyone playing with his toys. If he sees you talking to anyone while out, he’s hugging you from behind, kissing your neck and loudly asking “Hey Darling, Who’s this?” 

That Who’s this is dripping in condescension and hatred. Because he does hate them. He hates anyone that could take you away from him.

Your friends are not immune to this btw. 

Slowly he starts to pull you away from your friends and integrate you into his friend group.

Not that he trusts them either. Nay nay, It’s just easier to keep an eye on you this way. 

He’s always reminding you that you’re his. Marking you, draping his jacket over you, conveniently forgetting to buy you more body wash so you have to use his, literally anything to get the point across that you were his. 

Like, this man has deemed himself your chair, cause if you're going to be together, he’s going to find any excuse he can to sit you on his lap.

Now, Suguru is not the type to get confrontational or physical. That being said, if you express that someone is making you uncomfortable, it's game over for them.

The upsides are: no silent treatment! Instead he’s dotting on you and himself apologetic for letting you be put into that situation.

The downside is now you have to clean blood off of him. Again, probably not murder, but for sure an assault charge.

Kento Nanami

Nanami honestly doesn’t have the time to get jealous. 

He trusts you more than anyone else. He has to to date you. So, he’s not normally worried about other people. 

If he starts to feel jealous, he’ll normally just talk to you about it.

Normally. 

The exception is when it comes to your friends. 

He’s not worried about any of them taking you away from him romantically, that thought has never crossed his mind. And for the most part, he likes your friends.

But he does get jealous of how much of your time you spend with them. And of course he doesn’t want to say anything because he knows it's ridiculous. 

But when he comes home from a long day of work to see you have your friends over, meaning he has to share you when his emotional capacity has already been filled? Yea, he's not happy.

And he doesn’t try to hide how possessive he feels in that moment either, he’s stealing your seat and placing you firmly on his lap for after work cuddles.

Oh, he’s embarrassing you in front of your friends? Oh well. Send them home then. 

He’s going to, discreetly,  kiss your neck, and rub your hips until you’re hot and bothered enough to send your friends home.

He just wants your time. It bugs him when other people preoccupy it, when he feels like you’re prioritizing other people over him. 

He can recognize that this is probably his most toxic trait, and he is working on it. 

But you’re still going to have to deal with him while he is

Ryomen Sukuna

Everyone else is an amature when it comes to being possessive/jealous Sukuna OWNS that shit

It’s literally his baseline. Other people can’t look at you without pissing off your guard dog.

He’s your guard dog btw. 

They don’t even have to be flirting! If someones talking to you, he is holding you close and actively glaring at them until they leave you alone.

And if they are flirting, well I hope they're cool with whatever god they worship. Cause they’re about to meet said god. 

Sukuna is insistent that you are his and his alone. It’s why he even takes the time to mark you up all pretty like he has. So other people can see that.

So if someones dumb enough to see your lovingly bruised neck and still flirt with you then as far as he’s concerned, he’s doing the gene pool a favor by taking them out of it. 

God forbid he thinks you’re into it. 

QUICK NSFW WARNING

He will slaughter your new toy and fuck you until you can’t walk in front of the corpse. You won't be able to walk for weeks if ever again from the punishing he’s going to put you through.

OK, NSFW OVER

Ideally, your best bet is to tell him the moment that you realize someone is flirting with you. Even if they’re not necessarily making you uncomfortable, better to keep your life than theirs, right? 

Hell, you might even get a reward for being so vigilant. 

Honestly I need to write an entire Yandere Sukuna fic cause he is made for it. He is THE most Yandere character.

[absurdthirst]

Joel's Children {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, shower sex, vaginal sex, pregnancy, vomiting, angst, mentions of medical procedures, murder, Joel being ruthless for those he loves.

Comments: One night together in Jackson leads to the discovery that Joel is going to be a father again, right as he lets Ellie back into his heart. Only for that to be threatened when you all meet up with the Fireflies again.

A/N: Remember that ruthlessly sexy scene where Joel plows through the hospital determined to get to Ellie? Thots remember....It's us, we're thots.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s been days, weeks, since you’ve been able to scrub yourself clean. The long walk across the midwest had proved difficult, tiring. Joel’s boots had given out near Cheyenne and it had been lucky that you had found a hardware store that had several rolls of duct tape. Apparently there hadn’t been enough people to loot through all the supplies in Wyoming. Or maybe you had just hit a small patch of luck on an otherwise unlucky journey. 

Now in Jackson, you are getting your first taste of civilization again. The steam is already curling up from the shower as you drop the dirty clothes on the ground. You’ll pick them up later, but you want to feel warm, clean. To watch the dirt and dried blood swirl down the drain while you wait to see if Joel will join you like he had promised he would. It wouldn’t be the first time he had pulled away from the attraction between you, but you hope that he comes.

Joel can’t hold back anymore. It’s been a stressful journey to try and get to Wyoming and he’s struggling to reconcile the fact that he has imagined his brother was in danger, possibly dead. He’s been frantic with worry, only to find out that he’s been living it up in a post-apocalyptic paradise with his wife. It kills him inside, knowing that he’s fought hard to make it to his brother, to save him, and he couldn’t communicate that he was safe the entire time. It makes him pent up and that’s what brings him to the shower where he can hear the water running. Stripping off methodically, he steps into the bathroom and moves behind you, your body tensing until he says “it’s me, baby.” You relax and his hands find your waist, pulling you back against him and he rests his head on yours, breathing you in for a moment.

“You came.” Closing your eyes, you shiver, the heat having nothing to do with the way your gooseflesh rises. The weight of his hand and the feeling of him touching you already has you on edge, needy. Joel sighs behind you and slowly you turn in his arms, sliding your hands up his arms to loop around his neck. “Do you want to get clean?” You offer, suddenly shy now that everything you want is right in the little 2x4 section of the shower. “Do you want me to wash you?” You know he’s fighting his emotions, despite trying to hide it. His eyes are more expressive than he would like and you’ve gotten good at reading him.  

He can’t say a word so he nods, not wanting to start spilling his guts about how much he fucking loves you and he doesn’t want to lose you. He’s lost too much, too many people. He’d die if he lost you. Ellie is better off without him, she needs to get to Colorado, to find the Fireflies. She doesn’t need him. You do. You’ve always been a little dependent on him and he likes that, feeling wanted and needed despite him not willing to give away his heart. It happened though, it’s yours even if you don’t know it. You grab the body wash and start to clean him off, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hands on his body, washing away the dirt but no one can wash away the sins that stain his skin. “Baby.” He murmurs after you wrap your fingers around his hardening cock, digits soapy and he can’t help the groan that escapes him. “You’re - you don’t - we don’t have to do that.” He tells you, knowing you must be tired.

“I’ve wanted to do this for nearly a thousand miles.” You laugh quietly, sure that it was around Lincoln where you had started falling in love with Joel Miller. Despite his angry and tough facade, you were and will always be grateful for him saving you in Kansas City, deciding to follow them out west when there was nothing left for you in the ruins of the cordyceps getting to the surface. You know he’s lost, you’ve seen it in his eyes and Ellie has spoken to you about a woman named Tess, but you want this, you want him. Slowly pumping his cock, you press your lips to his shoulder and then his collar bone, grazing his chin and finally pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I want you to fuck me, Joel.” 

He groans, soft and low, and reaches for you. His hands find your ass to pull you close while his lips press harder against yours. His grunt into your mouth is desperate and you eagerly open to allow his tongue to slide against yours. “Need you.” He confesses, hand sliding around your hip until he caresses the curls at the apex of your thighs, sliding lower until his calloused finger finds your clit.

It’s like a drug, hearing that he needs you. Him touching you. It’s more than you had ever imagined on those nights where you had to slip your hand into your pants in your sleeping bag. Or, Joel’s sleeping bag. Moaning softly, you are happy that you had already washed before he had joined you, wanting this time to be undeterred by the need to clean up. “Joel.” You whimper his name, clinging to him as he presses a finger past your clit and into your cunt. 

He loves hearing you whimper and he’s quick to add a second finger, pushing them inside of you and letting his palm push against your clit. “Goddamn. You’re - you’re tight.” He pants, your fingers squeezing his cock and he kisses your face wherever he can reach.

Closing your eyes, your hips rock forward and chase his fingers as he pulls them back. “Haven’t been f-fucked in a long time.” You pant quietly, continuing to pump his cock. “Please, oh god, it would feel so good to have you inside me.”

He nods, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand off of his cock. “Turn around.” He rasps and you follow his order. He presses you against the cold tile, helping you arch your back, and he grips his cock. Positioning himself at your entrance, he pushes inside of you. He’s not rough but he’s not soft either, his need for you making him desperate to have you.

“Joel!” You cry out, cheek pressed up against the wall and you clench down around him. “O-oh god. It’s so good. Fuck.” You whine when he grinds deep, loving how he feels like he’s in your guts.

He can’t stop himself from trying to get as deep as possible. Grinding into you like he’s trying to mold your bodies together. “Fuck baby. You- you feel like heaven.” He sighs, pressing his head against your neck.

Preening at his praise, you push back and groan his name when he reaches up and cups your tits. “Oh shit.” You whine softly. “Fuck me, Joel. I need you to make me cum.” Your hand slides off the tiles and you reach between your thighs to start rubbing your clit. 

He groans, not wanting you to be the reason you cum, so he knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. Rubbing your clit in harsh circles and he pushes deep, making your tits push against the cold tile. “So good.” He murmurs into your neck.

Your breathing and the quiet moans are all that can be heard in the small shower. The push of his hips against your ass is absorbed by the smack against the tile and you love how steady his rhythm follows his fingers. “Fuck Joel, fuck.” You pant, closing your eyes and enjoying the ride. You’re guess that he would be good at fucking was proving correct.

He needs you to cum, months of pent up tension between you has him on the edge and he needs you to cum first. “Cum for me baby. Cum for me sweet girl. Right now. You can do it. Just - just cum for me.” He pleads, pushing deep while he rubs your clit like it’s the last damn thing he will ever do.

Shuddering, your head tilts back and rests against his shoulder and you cry out silently. Walls clenching down around him as you soak him in a torrent of cum.

“Fuck.” Joel hisses through gritted teeth, glad that you’ve found your pleasure, and his hands grip your waist, keeping you pinned so he can push into you with a groan. “Fuck baby. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His words are clipped until he groans out, biting down on your shoulder while his cock pulses inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t have cum but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to consume you, possess you, make you belong to him. He couldn’t have pulled out if he tried and his cum is hot as it paints your walls.

The warmth of his seed fills you and your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feel of it. “Fuck.” You pant quietly. “I’m going to sleep good tonight.” Sex always helps you sleep and it was an orgasm that wasn’t by your own hand. The ache between your thighs is one that will linger. Turning your head, you kiss his jaw. “Good for you, baby?”

He hums, turning your head so he can properly kiss you. He wants to spend the night in bed with you, savor every second of this time together. “So good. Come on, let’s dry off and get into bed.” He orders, turning off the water and stepping out to find a towel to dry you with. Once you’re both dry, he guides you to the bed and pulls you close, lifting your leg over his hip so he can curl around you. “I can’t say it but I want you to know I mean it.” He murmurs, hoping you know what he means.

****

The next morning, Joel manages to slip out from your arms without waking you, getting dressed and making his way to the stables. He knows you wouldn��t stay here without him and he desperately wants to take you with him but he can’t be selfish. You’ll have a better life here. One he cannot provide and one he has not earned the place to enjoy. He doesn’t fit in here, Maria made that clear and it’s best if he just leaves.

Tommy coming up the stairs wakes you and your eyes flutter open, the small smile on your face disappearing when you find the bed beside you completely empty. “Fuck!” You hiss, jumping up to dress so you can find Joel and give him a piece of your mind.

Joel is saddling up the horse when Tommy and Ellie enter the stables, and you come storming in behind them, overtaking them. He barely turns towards you before your hand comes up to slap his cheek. Combined with the cold air, he hisses and feels his stomach twist at the hurt he sees in your eyes. He can’t say anything, knowing that he’s a bastard who left you in bed without saying goodbye.

“You fucking asshole!” You hiss, not caring about the audience behind you. Joel brought this on himself. “You were just gonna leave? Without even a goodbye or fuck you?” Angry tears pool in your eyes and you want to smack him again, but you don’t. Unbelievably hurt that he would allude to loving you and then slip from the bed like a thief in the night.

He deserves that but he knows you wouldn’t understand his reasoning. “I want you to stay here. I need to go. I- I want to give Ellie a choice.” He looks towards the teenager. “Do you want to go with Tommy or you wanna go with me?” He asks her and she shoves her pack at him, “let’s go.” Joel’s heart thumps and he looks towards you, “you wanna stay?” He asks, stomach twisting as he gives you the choice like he should have done this morning.

“You wanted to give Ellie a choice but didn’t afford me the same damn thing?” You shake your head and scowl at him. “Saddle another fucking horse.” You demand, not willing to stay behind while the two people you care about most leave. “No offense to your brother, Jackson seems lovely.” Your eyes flicker over to the brother and then back to Joel. “But I said I love you and I meant it. I’m going with you.”

Ellie’s eyes widen as she looks between you and Joel, surprised that he finally gave in to those puppy dog eyes he gives you when he thinks no one is looking. Joel nods, biting his lip to suppress the smile that appears on his face. Tommy nods, saddling another horse for you and he slaps his brother on the shoulder. “You’re welcome back here anytime.” Tommy says and Joel nods, helping Ellie up onto the horse before he walks over to you. “I wanted to keep you safe.” He murmurs, knowing it’s pointless now but he had good intentions.

“You have a fucked up way of going about it, Miller.” You huff, shaking your head but you can understand why he thought he was doing what was best. Reaching out, you caress the cheek you had slapped. “We’ll keep each other safe.” You murmur, looking over at Ellie. “All of us.” You care about the feisty girl and you know Joel must be as protective of her as he is.

****

Ellie has been quiet since what happened with David and Joel is concerned. He got up from his death bed to save you both, knowing that you and Ellie were in danger had him pushing through the pain. He has been trying to reconnect with you both since heading to Salt Lake City. “You feelin’ okay?” He asks when you stop yet again to throw up. Flu isn’t really a concern in the new world, there’s no virus that is worse than the one that ended the world but maybe you’ve picked something up.

Groaning, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and stand straight. “Yeah, fuck, I’m -“ you stop, feeling another wave of bile rise but you manage to suppress it. “I don’t know what’s going on.” Your hand presses against your stomach and you sigh as the nausea passes. “I’m okay.” You assure him with a weak smile.

Joel frowns, watching you, and he hands you the rag he has in his jean pocket. “Here, baby.” He says and hands it to you and that’s when you freeze. 

“Baby.” You murmur, trying to figure out when you last had your period. Joel tilts his head, watching you freeze and Ellie stands there, jaw dropping as she figures out what’s wrong with you.

“Holy shit, you’re pregnant!” She cries out, her eyes wide and for the first time in forever, a real smile breaks out across her face. Leaping forward to crowd you excitedly. “You have to be, you’re getting sick now, but you don’t have a fever. You guys totally fucked, and that’s how you make babies.” She teases. Your eyes dart over to Joel, trying to figure out how he is going to take the idea of you being pregnant

Joel’s stomach drops as Ellie is the one who puts it all together and he swears his heart is about to pound out of his chest. One time was all it took and you’re pregnant. A veritable death sentence in this new world, and it’s all his fault. “Shit.” He murmurs, blinking several times as he watches you absorb the news. “Are you- do you think-?” Joel stammers, unsure of what to say to you.

You frown, shaking your head. “No- I- I’m just sick.” You insist, not liking the panicked look on Joel’s face. It’s not like you’ve been together since that one time, there’s no privacy for it. One of you staying awake to keep watch at night. You look down at your stomach and shake your head. “No, that can’t be it.”

Joel has accepted that you are, knowing that you haven’t complained about how uncomfortable the me still cup is like Ellie has done since you left Tommy’s. He’s not stupid, he knows you’ve complained about your jeans being a little tighter and you certainly haven’t been indulging when all you have is what he can hunt or find. It kills him inside, hearing he’s gonna be a dad again and all he can do is think of when he found out about Sarah. He was so young then. He was shitting himself but that was with the comforts afforded to him then, things like formula and a crib. What the fuck would become of a child in this world? Would he be able to provide? His breathing gets short and his vision goes blurry as he starts to panic, his chest tightening.

“Joel?” Your eyes widen and you rush over to him. Touching his shoulder as he bends over at the waist. “Joel, it’s okay, I’m not- we can-“ you swallow harshly and you know that any words of comfort will be nothing but platitudes. There’s no reassurance in this world. “Just breathe.” 

Ellie walks up on his other side and pats his back awkwardly. “It’ll be alright. You aren’t that old. And she’s younger than you.”

The words sound muffled to Joel as his thoughts come hard and fast, imagining a world with a baby. Then he thinks about you as a mother, how good you’ve been with Ellie, and how you looked at the kids at Tommy’s, the longing in your eyes when you saw a family. He imagines you holding the baby, safe at Tommy’s, a proper home. A second chance. The thought makes his breathing slow and he closes his eyes when you rub his back. “I’m here, baby.” You promise and he stands up straight, dragging you into his chest to hold you, his face in your hair to breathe you in. 

“I’m sorry. So fuckin’ sorry, sweet girl. I- I did this and I- we are gonna get back to Tommy’s and you’re gonna be such a good mama.” He promises, cupping your cheeks so he can look into your eyes, silently letting you know that he’s all in.

You weren’t expecting that response and you immediately tear up. Choking out a sob as you try to nod in his hands and lean forward. Needing a hug and reassurance that everything will be okay. You know that this world is rough but you need Joel with you. Maybe this baby can have a life that is close to what used to be, Ellie giving the world a cure.

****

“Ellie!” Joel growls when Ellie lets the ladder clatter to the level above. “Goddamnit.” He growls and reaches for the ladder. “You can’t go up it.” Joel shakes his head at you as you step towards it, five months pregnant. You are showing and Joel spends each night just holding you, rubbing your belly. In awe of the baby growing inside of you.

You wait until Joel is up the ladder and chasing after Ellie, shouting her name before you slowly start to climb the ladder. Not willing to stay below if there is some kind of issue or danger. You don’t think there is, not with the way that Ellie had sounded right before she had taken off. Slowly making your way up, you groan when you manage to pull yourself up and start following after them. “Joel? Ellie?”

Joel looks at the giraffe, in awe of the gentle beast, and he looks around when you call his name, eyes wide. Joel holds his hand out towards you, unable to reprimand you for coming up the ladder when this was the view. “Come here.” Joel grabs a branch and hands it to Ellie before he hands another one to you.

“Oh my god.” You breathe out in wonder as Ellie steps forward with the leaves. You watch as the giraffe takes the offered food and the girl giggles. “Hey there.” Joel watches, a soft smile on his face as you step up beside Ellie to hand her the leaves. She’s enjoying herself and you won’t take that away from her, not when she’s been so locked inside her own head after the run in with David. “So fucking cool.” Both you and Joel look at each other, your love for the girl evident and you know that you want to go back to Jackson, make your little family safe, you, Joel, Ellie and the baby.

After admiring the giraffe, Joel helps you down and you’re moving through the city when Ellie mentions his scar. “I, uh, it was me. I’m the guy who missed.” He reveals, knowing he’s never spoken to you about this. This was his secret, the shame he carried since he failed. He was barely living after they stitched him back up. Physically he was recovering, emotionally, he was never the same. Until he met you and Ellie.

Your hand covers your stomach protectively, knowing that if he had succeeded, your baby wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be here, you would have died in Kansas City. Sighing softly, all you can do is watch as he takes the rifle off his shoulder and leans against an old concrete barrier, obviously wanting to get it off his chest. “There’s no story.” He tells you as Ellie sits beside him, you on his other side. “Sarah died and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn’t scared either. I was ready.” He looks off, not making eye contact with either of you and you know he’s reliving the past. “I couldn’t have been more ready. When I-“ he pauses, ducking his head down and looking back up. “When I….” He gestures towards his head with his fingers pointed like a gun and your heart breaks, imaging the pain he had been in. “-went to pull the trigger, I-I flinched.” He looks slightly shocked that he had. “Still don’t know why.” Tears slip down your face and you want to tell him that you know why he flinched, he wasn’t done living yet.

“Well I'm glad you didn’t do…that.” Ellie offers Joel with a small smile and Joel nods, “me too.” He sighs and looks over at you, his eyes dropping down to your stomach. Ellie bites her lip, “I guess time heals all wounds.” 

Joel shakes his head, his eyes meeting hers, “it wasn’t time that did it.” His eyes are watery and your heart breaks.

Reaching out, you brush his hair back and lean in, pressing your lips to his scar softly before you pull away. “I’m glad that you did heal.” You murmur softly.

Joel reaches for your hand, squeezing it, and he lets his face say what his mouth cannot. Knowing you’ll know what he means. “Come on.” He pats his knees and stands up, taking your hand to help you stand. “You know what I’m in the mood for? Some shitty puns.” He says and squeezes your hand as he looks at Ellie who is eagerly pulling the book from her backpack.

You watch as she opens the book and starts the read. “People are making jokes about the apocalypse like there’s no tomorrow.” Joel frowns slightly and Ellie grins. “Too soon?” She asks and he shakes his head, “no, it’s topical.” 

She laughs, “oh I love this one.” She bends down and then pops back up. “Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?” Joel doesn’t answer but he scratches his head. “‘Cause their meteor.” You groan alongside Joel. “Oh that’s terrible.”

“Zero out of ten.” Joel snorts, bringing your hand up to swing it between you. That’s when the grenade is thrown and Ellie shouts “Joel!” He spins, pushing you behind him to protect you and you’re both thrown back by the explosion. Joel shouts your name through the smoke and he’s trying to protect you and Ellie when the gun comes down on the back of his head and it all goes dark.

****

Groaning, you open your eyes slowly, lids fluttering and you wince at the pain in the back of your skull. “Easy.” Turning, you see a woman, darker skin with a sharp gaze about her. Eyeing you intensely and she seems relieved that you are awake. 

“Where-“ you croak, “Joel? Ellie.”

Marlene steps forward, holding a glass of water for you. “They’re fine. Ellie is being prepped for surgery and Joel is with her. My name is Marlene. I - Joel wanted me to be here when you woke up.” She says, offering you the cup of water after you sit up. Her eyes drop down to your bump and back to your face. “How- how far along are you?” She asks, stepping back once you have the glass of water.

“Around five months.” You take a sip of the water, relieved at the cool liquid as it goes down your throat. You wish that Joel was here, but being with Ellie is his priority. Just like she needs to be right now. You look back at Marlene. “It’s Joel’s.” You offer quietly, rubbing your stomach. “The baby.”

Marlene’s eyes widen slightly, having known that Joel did not like making connections and that’s possibly the biggest connection two humans could have. “Congratulations.” Marlene says, “I’ll go find Joel but in the meantime, I have a nurse who’s going to take some blood and she has vitamins to give you that you can take.” Marlene offers and you nod, grateful for the care. “I’ll go see how Ellie and Joel are getting along.” Marlene says and walks out of the room. 

“Do you think she will work?” Jackie, the nurse asks once she follows Marlene out of the room. 

“She’s our back up plan.” Marlene confirms and makes her way to Joel’s room. He wakes up just as she arrives and he winces as he tries to sit up.

“Welcome to the fireflies.” Marlene tells him, making him quickly roll over. “Easy. Ya got hit pretty hard.” Her hands are folded over her stomach and she smirks. “Patrol didn’t know who you were.” 

Joel groans quietly and looks over at her. “Where’s Ellie?” 

Marlene answers quickly. “She wasn’t hurt. Not even a scratch.” She sounds impressed, she is impressed. “She’s mostly worried about you.”

His head is throbbing and he sits up on the gurney. “Where is she?” He says your name, worried that he can’t see you either. 

“We lost half our crew crossing the country. I had five men whose only job was to protect me. I still almost got killed. How’d you do it? With a pregnant woman too?” Marlene snorts and Joel grips the side of the bed, shaking his head. 

“It was all her.” He says truthfully, knowing he couldn’t have made it without you. “Ellie fought like hell to get here.” 

Marlene shakes her head, “she would’ve been dead on day one. You are the one person I never wanted to be in debt to. But I owe you. We all owe you.” 

Joel shakes his head, “just take me to them. I need to see them.” 

Marlene stares at him for a moment, “I can’t. Ellie’s being prepped for surgery and-” She says your name, “she’s having her blood drawn for testing for the baby.” 

Joel frowns, “what surgery?” 

Marlene bites her lip, “our doctor, he thinks that the Cordyceps in Ellie has grown with her since birth-” Joel interrupts her, “why is she in surgery?” 

Marlene continues, “it produces a kind of chemical messenger. It makes normal Cordyceps thinks that she’s Cordyceps. It’s why she’s immune. He’s gonna remove it from her, multiply the cells in a lab, produce those chemical messengers, and then we can give it to everyone. He thinks it could be a cure, Joel. We think that it happened when her mother was bitten while Ellie was still attached to her umbilical cord. We - we want to see if it’s possible that we could recreate that in case-” 

Joel cuts her off, his jaw clenched, “in case what?” He is hearing that they want you to be bit after you give birth to his child. 

“A cure.” Marlene reminds him but he shakes his head, “Cordyceps grow inside the brain.” 

Marlene nods, “it does.” 

Joel shakes his head, “find someone else. Find anyone else. Not Ellie. Not the mother of my child.” He growls. 

“There is no one else. We didn’t tell them. We didn’t cause them any fear. Your child will be safe. We will make sure the mother is well looked after until she gives birth.” 

Joel shakes his head and stands up, “no. No, you take me to her. You take me to her right now!” He yells, desperate to see you, to save you and Ellie from this nightmare. The guard hits him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle and Joel falls down with a grunt.

“Please, you don’t understand.” Joel tries to reason with Marlene but she’s unsympathetic. 

“I do. I was there when she was born, Joel. I promised her mother I would save her child. I promised.” She pauses. “So I do understand. I’m the only one who understands. I’m sorry. I have no other choice.” She wants this to be over, for the world to go back to what it was and Ellie, and your baby might be the cure. She will sacrifice anyone for a cure. 

Joel looks up at her from the ground, worry and panic swirling in his gut. “I do.” He assures her, making Marlene realize she can’t leave Joel alive. 

She nods and speaks to the guards, “walk him out to the Highway, leave him there with his pack.” Her guards will know that she means for them to take him out of hearing range of the pediatric ward where you are being held and put a bullet in his brain. “Give him these.” She hands off the knife Ellie carried along with the necklace you wore and looks back at Joel. “If he tries anything, shoot him.”

Joel's heart pounds in his chest as he is led down the hall, his mind racing as he tries to figure out how he can save you and Ellie. His heart races and he imagines leaving you and his child, Ellie, here with the fireflies. He swallows harshly, stumbling and trying to slow down. "I didn't hear anyone say stop." The guard says when Joel looks at the sign, "which way?" He is pushed towards the stairwell and Joel imagines not being there for his children. He can't fail them. He can't fail you. 

"The fuck are you doin'? Keep walking." The firefly orders and Joel snaps, unable to let you and Ellie be the burden of this so-called cure. He can't lose anyone else. "I said keep-" Joel spins, elbowing the prick and grabbing his gun, making quick work of shooting them and he grabs the knife and necklace, determined to save his girls.

“Hello?” It’s been a long time since you’ve had a bed and the hospital gurney is actually comfortable. One of the ones obviously used in the labor and delivery ward and for a moment, you imagine actually being in a hospital for the birth. The nurse had told you that she would be right back, going to get Joel and you are starting to worry. There’s muffled sounds from the floors below, and you can’t quite make it out but it’s making you uneasy. “Anyone there?”

Joel is ferocious in his efforts to get to you and Ellie. He knows he has to get to Ellie first, stop the surgery, and he shoots down anyone that gets in his way. When he enters the operating room, he quickly shoots the doctor and the nurses scream, “unhook her. Move!” He demands and the nurses hands shake. “Cover her arm. Fast.” The nurse nods and covers her arm. “Turn around.” He demands and he carries her in his arms as he shouts your name, needing to find you.

“Joel?” You hold your stomach as you heft your weight off the gurney, hearing Joel scream your name. He sounds panicked, like he does when he’s lost sight of you or Ellie when there is danger nearby. That’s never a good sound to hear from Joel. “Joel! I’m here.” You shout back, slipping into your shoes so you can walk to the door of the room you are in.

He hears your voice and he’s relieved, eyes softening when he sees you, but yours widen when you see him carrying Ellie. “What -?” 

Joel shakes his head, “no time. We gotta go. Come on baby. Let’s go.” He demands and leads you towards the elevator.

You’ve learned that when Joel demands you move, you move. You don’t ask him again, instead you are right behind him, wondering what the hell is going on. You know how important this mission was to Ellie, to be able to ‘save the world’. So for Joel to be carrying her around in a surgical gown makes you wonder if the hospital is under attack. 

“What happened?” You ask and Joel can’t speak yet, too overwhelmed and relieved that you’re alive. That Ellie is okay. He looks at Ellie, knowing he’s messed up her plans for his own selfish desires but he couldn’t let her die for this. He sees the car and rushes forward until he hears Marlene. 

“You can’t keep them safe forever.” She says, aiming her gun towards him and he jerks his chin for you to get behind him. “No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she’s gonna grow up Joel. And then you’ll die, she’ll leave. Your kid will be left without a father. Then what? How long until your kids are torn apart by infected or murdered by raiders? Because they live in a broken world that you could have saved.” 

Joel stares at her, “maybe but it isn’t for you to decide.” 

Marlene shakes her head, “or you. Your children had the chance to save the world. If Ellie died…we had the baby. A chance to try again.” Marlene says and you gasp, hand lowering to your stomach, unsure of what she means but you know it’s bad. “So what would Ellie decide? ‘Cause I think she’d wanna do what’s right.” Joel stares at the floor, unable to process this when Marlene says “and you know it. It’s not too late. Even now, even after what you’ve done. We have a second chance.” She looks towards you, “we can still find a way.” Joel looks down at Ellie before his eyes meet yours, knowing he couldn’t give this up. It’s his children. He couldn’t save Sarah but he can save Ellie, save you and his unborn child.

You watch Joel as he battles himself, looking down at Ellie and then over at you. You shake your head, knowing that anything that would lead to Ellie dying is not a choice you want to pick. His jaw ticks and he looks back at Marlene. Making you cry out in surprise when he pulls the trigger of the gun that he is holding under Ellie’s legs. “Get in the car.” Joel urges you as he turns and rushes towards the vehicle. 

Marlene groans as she curls into herself and he lays Ellie down on the backseat. He strides back over to Marlene, pulling his gun out, and he aims it at her, “you’ll just come after her.” He says and shots her in the head.

Swallowing harshly, you look back at Ellie laying across the seats. Whatever happened was bad. Joel connects the battery and slams the hood of the car shut, making you jump in surprise before he climbs behind the wheel and turns the key. “What happened?” You ask quietly, needing to know what is happening. From what you understood, Marlene was important to Ellie and it was her that had tasted Joel with bringing Joel here. 

Joel shakes his head, not able to talk about it just yet. He wants to get you out of here so he starts the car and makes his way out of the parking garage, eyes scanning for any more fireflies and he’s on edge. When he’s out on the highway and he reaches for your hand, lifting it to press a kiss to it. “Baby. Oh fuck. I- I thought I was gonna lose you all.”

You hear the way his voice shakes and you squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t lose us.” You promise him, even though you have no idea what was actually happening in that hospital. Craning your neck, you look back at Ellie, “we need to find her some clothes. For when she wakes up.” 

He nods, tears stinging in his eyes, “baby. She - she told me - Ellie’s mom was bitten before she was born. It’s why Ellie is immune and they - they wanted to take Ellie’s brain out to find a cure and if that failed, they were gonna use you - they wanted to use our baby as a second chance.” He chokes, a tear sliding down his cheek as he imagines being unable to help Ellie and you.

“Shit.” You hiss, furious that they had been so cruel. You would have never consented to hurting your child or allowing Ellie to be killed in hopes of a cure. “Then I’m glad you shot her.” You snort. “A bullet is too good for her. That’s unethical.”

Joel squeezes your hand, “and you would’ve been killed. I- fuck- I love you. I love you, baby.” He confesses for the first time, squeezing the steering wheel with his other hand as he makes his way to Tommy’s in hope of having a life with his family.

[aqupistau]

— ☕️ⸯⸯ : the way back home﹙bbh﹚

warning: mentions of alcohol (but it's just wholesome fluff)

genre & trope: fluff and established relationship

pairing: byun baekhyun x gn!reader

word count: 0.97k (edited)

synopsis. "if i were a sleepy sea otter and you were also a sleepy sea otter, would you hold my hand so that we won't float away from each other?"

Baekhyun wasn't the greatest soldier alive when it came to alcohol tolerance; he himself had great self-awareness of it. This resulted in him never drinking furthermore in your presence once he knew he was tipsy. At first, you didn't mind this at all, although, after receiving the first-ever emergency call from one of his friends, this changed your mind.

The call consisted of the first few seconds of a proper conversation with the said friend, and then a minute later to Baekhyun stealing the phone, who was then drunkenly flirting with you. Clearly losing the battle between alcohol and his sobriety.

Baekhyun's friend that called you, who seemingly was the only person sober, got his phone back and pleaded you to get him ASAP before he lost his marbles dealing with a bunch of lousy drinkers.

You obliged, mindlessly arriving at the destination a lot quicker than you thought, almost snickering at the thought of a crimson-cheeked boyfriend just smiling like a fool at you. Junmyeon, the caller, his face of weariness turned into a relieved one as he greeted you at the front door, booming noises of drunken men singing karaoke inside and the strong smell of assorted liquor exuding from him.

"Hi, Y/N! Here to pick up Baekhyun, right?" he questioned, which honestly sounded more like it had only one valid answer.

"Yes, though it looks like I'll be spoiling his fun if I pick him up while all of you are having so much fun." You politely replied just for formality.

Junmyeon chuckled and firmly added, dead in the eyes, begging, "I promise you that you aren't. Please come inside, Y/N. Please?"

"Y/N? Is that Y/N? Y/N!" A familiar bright, boyish voice slurred in excitement from the inside. You looked at Junmyeon for assurance, and he nodded, encouraging you to enter the living room. You gulped in nervousness, thinking of how to deal with the new kind of Baekhyun you'd never met before. It was like helplessly walking on a field of tall grass full of wild Pokemons.

Before leaving your shared home with Baekhyun, you've researched the effects of alcohol, and one struck you: repressed emotions and thoughts will be set free in a drunken state. You weren't sure if that was true since no reliable sources proved this fact, but you still wondered, almost in a way of contemplation. Doubtful if you can even deal with a wasted Baekhyun.

"It's me, Baek—Oh my god."

There he was. And you were right about one thing: his cheeks would go red when he was drunk but based from the research about repressed feelings when in a drunken state, you can tell that this Baekhyun will be a handful.

"Y/N~" The last syllable of your name dragged on as he attempted to wiggle up from his seat. "I missed you so much, Y/N." You quickly ran up to support him from standing, relieved that you caught him on time.

"But we were together like… four hours ago, baby." He nodded in reply.

"Exactly." Oh, well.

After bidding goodbye to the rest of his friends, who were thrilled to see you, you got help from Junmyeon to put Baekhyun on the passenger seat, bidding him farewell and good luck as you set off to go back home.

Surprisingly, the first couple of minutes of the drive were quiet, and your boyfriend was just sleeping peacefully, thankfully, not causing a ruckus silently. You didn't try to pry him from his peace and just continued driving, waiting for him to mumble anything you could tease him about once he woke up. You admired this very moment of comfortable silence, wondering of the antics that would happen by the next morning and planning to prepare ahead a good hangover soup to lighten the weight of your lover.

"Baby?" He's awoken.

"Yes?"

"Can I hold your hand? It's quite cold," he requested groggily.

"I can't, baby. I'm driving us back home."

"Oh...then, can I borrow your jacket?" Baekhyun tested again, opting for a different consolation.

"Yes, of course. It's on the backseat, Baek."

He struggles to look for it in the back seat, carefully but clumsily putting his arms inside the armholes of the jacket when he does.

A few minutes pass, and he complains again, "...I still wanna hold your hand, Y/N."

"Let's hold hands when we're under a stop light, okay?" You turned the car to the highway, and coincidentally, the red light from the traffic light stopped you. In reaction, Baekhyun reached out for your hand and interlocked his cold fingers with yours.

"Y/N?" he called out again.

"Yes?"

"Your hand is very warm. I love holding your hand."

You beamed with a snicker, looking down at your entwined hands. His hands that easily get cold and would always seek refuge for yours that were always cozy and warm. These hands that would always cup your cheeks and kiss you plushly in the wake of the morning. You noticed the difference of temperature of his and your hand, and you grasp slightly harder, attempting to warm his faster.

"I love holding your hand too, Baek."

The traffic lights turned green, and you gently removed your tightly held hand from him, leaving his hand to reach out to yours with dismay.

"Y/N?" Baekhyun asks for you again from just a few miles.

"Mhm?" You hummed softly, never troubled by his constant wants to hear your voice and attention even if he asks for the vainest demands.

"I need you to answer a question."

"Sure."

"If I was a sleepy sea otter," he yawned, the sign of the need to sleep displaying, "And you were also a sleepy sea otter…."

"Will you hold my hand so we'll not drift away from each other when we're sleeping?"

"Baek?" It was your turn to ask, "You do know that we always snuggle when we sleep, right?"

"...Oh. Then, can I hold you all night when we're finally home?" There were remotely a small number of cars driving, so you turned the car, almost near your home and took the opportunity, interlocking the hand that rested on his thigh with yours, holding it near your lips, and kissed lovingly the back of his hand.

"When it involves loving you, then it's always a yes."

© aqupistau. all rights reserved. ↬ masterlist

[screamintoad]

New Home

A/n: PAIGE BELONGS TO @4necdote THANK YOU BARBS FOR LETTING ME BORROW HER AND IF ANYTHING IS INACCURATE TELL ME AND I’LL FIX IT

  It was weird. Rory awkwardly stood in the middle of the living room of a luxurious penthouse. His new home. He looked around in awe of the decor, he knew his professor had expensive tastes but being in his home really proved that. Divus hung his coat on the rack beside the front door, “I believe my wife is home, she’s been dying to meet you ever since I suggested that you stay with us.” Rory curtly nodded and Divus offered him a smile, “Don’t be so nervous, it’s not good to be tense all the time.” Rory took a deep breath and pet Argos between his ears. Grim had already happily made himself at home as he lounged on the large sofa. 

  Soon enough, Rory neared the sound of multiple dogs barking amd the gentle voice of a woman trying to make them be quiet. “Pongo, Perdita, Lucky, there is no reason to make such a fuss!” Divus chastised the dogs but there was no malice in his voice. In fact, he seemed to hold back a smile. The dogs bounded down the stairs and a blonde haired woman followed them. Her face widened into a smile when she saw Rory. 

  He kept a hand on Argos and gently shushed him. Grim quickly made his way onto Rory’s shoulders to avoid the dogs sniffing. When she made her way over she grasped Rory’s free hand in both of hers, “It’s so nice to finally meet you dearie! When Divus first told me about you I knew I had to meet you eventually, even more so when he proposed you stay with us until you catch your footing here in the Queendom of Roses. I’m Paige, you can call me that or Mom, whichever you prefer.” Rory’s head spun from all the information but he slowly returned the handshake. 

  The professor did warn him of her large and warm presence. 

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well ma’am. Professor Crewel speaks incredibly fondly of you.” Paige waved him off, ”Oh please, there’s no reason to be so formal.” “Good luck getting that habit out of him.” Divus mumbled as he passed by them to go to the kitchen. Paige rolled her eyes, “Ignore my husband, but come on sweetie. I want to show you your room. I’m actually quite proud of it.” Without letting go of his hand she gently tugged him along as they went upstairs. 

  When they stopped in front of a door she asked him to cover his eyes. He did as told so Paige and Argos guided him in so he didn’t bump into anything. Once they stopped walking Rory took that as a sign to lower his hands from his eyes. When he did he was at a loss for words. 

  The bedroom was as large as the one he had at Ramshackle but it wasn’t the size that surprised him. It was how it was decorated. The bedspread had a sun and moon celestial pattern on it, there was a red plush arm chair next to a large window that let in a lot of natural light, a bookshelf was situated at the wall beside the chair. There was also a large wooden desk that looked like it was vintage. The room was perfect for him. 

  He ran a hand over the desk as he got lost in his running thoughts. “Divus told me how much you like to read and write and overall create so I knew a bookshelf and desk were necessary. The arm chair as well. The bedspread I had a feeling you would enjoy. Hopefully once all of your belongings show up from campus you can really turn this room into your own. Ah! Don’t be afraid to tell us if there’s anything you want changed or moved.” “…Thank you.” Rory’s voice wavered. 

  Paige wanted to reach out to comfort him but she was worried he would run off from the unwanted attention. She saw him raise a hand to his face to wipe what she assumed was a tear. “Thank you, so very much.” Rory spoke more confidently now. Paige happily nodded, “Of course, we didn’t want you to feel restricted here. You’re still young after all, there’s no need to speed through everything. Take all the time you need to adjust.” She reached her arms out for a hug but Rory merely placed his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “Baby steps.” They said in unison and laughed. 

  Divus called them both down for dinner and as they left the bedroom Rory looked at it for a few more moments. He assured himself as he followed behind Paige, Grim on his shoulders with Argos at his heels. 

  Everything will be okay. 

TAGS: @blood-red-bumblebee @gimmeurmoneyagh @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @moonyasnow

@twtysevapr @angelwishess @beneathsakurashade @bunniehunn @h0neybane TELL ME IF YOU WANT TAGGED OR NOT

[asimplearchivist]

𝑪𝑯. 𝑽 — 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑨𝑹𝑬𝑳𝒀 𝑬𝑨𝑻.

𝐂𝐇. 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ miguel is forced to have a heart-to-heart. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 4.5k a/n 🕷️ [gif credit] ⤏ sorry this chapter is a day late, i started back to college today and i managed to finish this by avoiding a mental breakdown bc who doesn't love getting overwhelmed by the workload right off the bat? maybe this one being a little longer will smooth things over. ⤏ this chapter was supposed to be in reader’s pov with a totally different scenario in mind, but I’ll probably use that idea for another chap instead bc I ran out time getting ready for this week and already had some of this written beforehand. I’ll probably require a little more patience with updates going into this semester, but I’m going to try to keep them weekly unless the workload proves too much for my mushy little brain to handle! ⤏ and to anyone else starting back up to school, good luck and remember to take care of yourselves! you’re all beautiful and I love you for taking the time to read my silly little fics. :) ⤏ this one does get a little heavy, y’all—please mind the content warnings listed on this fic’s masterpost, linked below. wounds have to be cleaned before they can heal. 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️

You were different. You looked different.

Despite your near-identical physical and facial features and expressions, the nervous flutter of your hands you always hastily stuffed into your pockets to hide them from sight, the faded denim bomber jacket with embroidered patches hand-sewn along the shoulders and threading at the cuffs that you refused to remove even though HQ stayed a steady seventy degrees and required no such outerwear (and over your thermally regulated UMF suit, no less)—among the countless other details he had compared and filed away into the back of his mind to avoid thinking about them all for too long—you weren’t his esposa.

Miguel had to get that through his head right now. He’d already made that mistake once.

As Jess had predicted, you fit seamlessly into the Spider Society. You got along with all of the main task squad, including Peter B. (as much as that fact irked Miguel to no end), and even the most stoic of the Spider-People with whom you interacted in passing.

You were such a fucking ray of sunshine, friendly to a fault, never failing to have them all smiling by the end of your conversations, no matter how short. You had won nearly the entire collective over with your baked goods—it became routine within a week for you to bring in whatever you failed to sell by the end of the day, and within fifteen minutes the supply was always depleted on a first-come, first-serve basis. Multiple scuffles had already broken out over the delicacies, and Miguel had exasperatedly requested that LYLA put up a waitlist tablet in the cafeteria that they could queue themselves and you could update to avoid future conflicts.

He was finally able to apologize to the AI. After Peter B. had taken you on the tour, she’d emerged in a flicker looking slightly less displeased now that he’d smoothed over his mistake. Once he admitted that he shouldn’t have kept anything from Jess and or snapped at either of them, regardless of the circumstances, she’d perked right back up to normal and had resumed her chirpy, irreverent demeanor. (Much to his chagrin.)

It was good, because LYLA could hold a grudge unlike anyone whom Miguel had ever met. (Maybe that was his fault, to an extent.)

Despite the somewhat rocky start to your recruitment and the argument you and he had shared, you made it a point to visit Miguel when you did make your deliveries no matter what. You tried to start small-talk the first few times, but either he was too invested in his analyses—zoned in to the point that even his hyperactive senses blocked out any other stimuli—or he couldn’t muster the emotional fortitude to formulate proper responses from hearing your voice again after particularly bad nights, so most of the time you entered silently, left him your humble offerings (always his favorites), and departed without a word. He stayed on a strict diet to maintain his mass and bulk, and consuming that much sugar that regularly would inevitably ruin him, but…it always smelled so good, tasted even better, and he would be halfway done eating them when he would realize that his resolve had cracked. (Again.)

Miguel was uncertain of your motivations. He hadn’t exactly reciprocated any of your amicability—had barely spoken ten words to you throughout the entire week after you and Jess had backed him up with the Goblin. You’d gone out on a couple of trial runs with Peter B. and Jess since then to get you more accustomed to multiversal travel, and you had transported a couple of rather disoriented lesser villains-of-the-week to their home dimensions without any trouble. Your reflexes, strategizing, adaptability, and burgeoning leadership had condensed hours of wrangling into less than one each time you set out. Your reports were immaculate, and Peter B. and Jess showered you in endless praises once you would return home.

Miguel had watched, so of course he knew how efficiently you worked—but he hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d been observing, and thus let them talk without comment. He had to admit that it was good that he’d bitten the bullet and had recruited you. He could already tell that you would exponentially improve their success rate. You were an excellent Spider-Woman, and your additional work off-world hadn’t impacted that on your own in the slightest.

If only he could get over himself long enough to treat you like everyone else.

The others had already noticed his withdrawal. He wasn’t exactly extroverted by nature, and he certainly wasn’t a man of many words, but Jess had already tried twice to get him to open up about what was bothering him. Peter B. had yet to strike, and Miguel looked forward to avoiding him and that previously promised conversation for as long as possible…which meant that he reclused himself into the lab as much as he could physically stand it.

Which, of course, didn’t last.

“Miguel?”

The man let out a heavy sigh, tipping his head back and to the side to glare at the apparition glowing near his shoulder. “I thought I told you to let me know when he came close.”

“You did,” LYLA remarked idly, inspecting her incorporeal nails as she cycled through multiple shades, “and I did—you just ignored it, boss man.”

Miguel scowled and scrolled through the screens around him, spotting that very notification blinking at him urgently. He swiped crabbily to dismiss it into the ether, gritting his teeth as Peter effortlessly latched onto the edge of the platform and hoisted himself up onto it.

“I thought MJ had an appointment today,” Miguel groused, focusing resolutely on a diagram projecting the potential increase of interspatial warps.

“She did. Three hours ago.” Peter nudged him in the arm. “Did you really lose track of that much time?”

Miguel’s eyes cut over to the clock he had shrunk and put to the side—as well as the timer that was supposed to chime every hour for him to walk around, stretch, and rest his eyes for ten minutes. He’d snoozed it so many times that it had, evidently, given up altogether—or LYLA had disengaged it to keep from annoying him further. He scoffed softly at the time. “I’ve been busy.”

“I’ll say. Your new little protege sure has turned the entire collective upside down.”

“Just say what you want to say and be done with it, Peter. I’m not in the mood.”

A beat of silence. Out of the corner of Miguel’s eye, the older man’s expression had tightened. “It seems like you already know what I’m going to say.”

“Then why are we even having this conversation?”

“Because I’m worried about you. You know. Like friends ought to be.”

Miguel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You see me as a liability.”

“I am worried,” Peter reiterated flatly, “that you’re going to get yourself hurt again.”

“Believe me, Peter, I’ve learned my lesson.” Miguel turned about lazily on his heel to face him and bracing his hands on his hips. “You don’t have to spend your precious time worrying about me.”

“I’m going to, regardless.” Peter didn’t have an ounce of insincerity on his face, even as Miguel sneered down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Look. Recruiting her was a good thing. She’s excellent at what she does, and she’ll probably end up on the main squad soon enough with how reliable and level-headed she is. She’s already been tinkering in the robotics lab in some of her free time and blowing the minds of the Spiders that work there. She’s got a lot of potential.” He folded his arms over his chest—for once lacking that damnable bathrobe. “She’s a lot like you, actually, with how independent she is trying to take responsibility for everyone and everything around her. I can already see the martyr and/or hero complex working, or whatever it is about you that you can’t seem to accept help until you absolutely need it.”

Miguel narrowed his eyes at him.

“Don’t give me that look.” Peter pointed his index finger and jabbed him in the sternum. “I’m not stupid, Miguel. Don’t try to lie to me and tell me that you recruited her entirely out of the goodness of your heart.”

“I agreed with Jess that she would fit the bill.”

“She’s also a duplicate of your dead wife.”

Miguel’s upper lip curled back in a silent snarl, baring his fangs. “Careful, Peter.”

Heedless to the danger he tread into, as always, Peter carried on without flinching once. “Put those away—I’m not trying to antagonize you. I just want to know what’s going on in your head so I can help.”

“I didn’t want to,” Miguel pointed out, doggedly avoiding that idea, “and I got scolded for arguing against it, so maybe you ought to go talk to Jess if you have qualms with her eye for recruitment.”

“It’s one thing that you took on another Spider,” Peter digressed, “but…Miguel. It’s only been two months. Are you sure you’re okay dealing with…all this? I know you’re still struggling, and that’s to be expected—what you went through is…beyond anything I could ever handle. Losing May has been hard enough, but losing an entire—”

“Don’t.” Miguel took a lumbering step forward, shoulders tightening. “Don’t you even think about it.”

“What, like you’ve been doing?” Peter shot back, patience thinning. The furrow between his brows deepened. “You may bury it so you don’t have to deal with the baggage, but I remember the aftermath. I remember having to put you back together, to keep you from going straight off the brink. You fell apart, Miguel—and that’s okay! Hell, I would’ve been more surprised if you hadn’t! But pardon my skepticism that you’re suddenly okay enough to be interacting with another version of your wife so soon!”

Miguel’s head throbbed with how tightly he ground his teeth to keep from shouting. “Do you honestly think,” he growled, “that I don’t think about it every second of every day?” He took another step forward, hedging Peter closer to the edge of the platform. “Do you really think that it doesn’t keep me up at all hours? That I’ve gotten a full night’s sleep since then? Do you really think I’m that cold?”

“No. I didn’t say that.” Peter’s eyes flashed. “But what you’re doing isn’t healthy, Miguel. Working yourself to death to avoid allowing yourself to heal isn’t going to get you anywhere but an early grave. And I’m just afraid that she’s going to exacerbate the problem—LYLA told me you’ve been in here for nearly twelve hours! You need to get out—go hit the gym or eat or—or—I don’t know, something! But if her being around is going to cause you to regress, I don’t know that I can condone it—regardless of whether Jess pushed for it or not.” His expression softened slightly, and he reached up to clasp Miguel’s shoulder. “I just don’t like seeing you suffer like this, and I know that you’re not going to ease up on yourself without outside intervention. You’re the one holding all of this together, sure, but you don’t have to be the only one. It won’t kill you to let us in.”

Miguel cast a scathing glare towards the AI, who merely shrugged noncommittally. He managed to retain enough will not to shrug off the grounding touch, even if it made his skin prickle with nerves. “This is my burden to bear,” he responded lowly. “And there’s too much at stake for me to falter now.”

Peter regarded him forlornly for a long moment, eyes scanning his resolute face, before releasing a defeated sigh and throwing his hands up before they landed against the fronts of his thighs with a resounding clap that echoed through the lab. “…All right. Sure. Just…let yourself break, then.” He turned to step to the edge of the platform. “But either way, I’ll still be here to help you get back up, Miguel. I, for one—and Jess, too—aren’t going anywhere just because you keep pushing us away. We’re staying right here because we know you need it, even if you don’t think you do. We’re not going to leave, no matter what.” He cast a glance at him over his shoulder. “I just hope that you can say the same about her, if you’re going to put yourself through all this for her sake.”

Peter leapt nimbly down, and Miguel counted his breaths until the doors swished shut. Only then did he let his resolve crack—and the monitor to his right paid a dear price for it.

“I think you really should listen to him,” LYLA said softly. “He’s only trying to look out for you.”

“I’ve had about enough of you,” Miguel muttered darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose and tucking his chin against his chest.

“Don’t make me lock up the computer. Your health is more important than all this. I’ll let you know if anything turns out abnormal.” She flitted to stare directly up into his eyes, imitating his hunch. “Eating something will help your headache go away, you know.”

He glared balefully down at her. “You’re not my fucking mother.”

“No, but apparently I have to act like her.” She made a shooing motion. “Vamos.* All this will still be waiting for you when you get back.”

“I… fine. Fine.” Miguel engaged the command to lower the platform, setting a timer on his watch for half an hour. LYLA ticked it up to a whole one with a snap of her fingers, ignoring his scowl. “LYLA.”

“Just part of my protocol, boss. Taking care of you is one of my top priorities.” She raised a brow at him. “You should know that by now.”

He…couldn’t refute that. It was a branch of code as deeply embedded into her programming as anything else. His wife had made sure of it.

“…Miguel?”

He stiffened.

LYLA blinked away, leaving him alone on the steadily descending platform. He looked down and spotted you emerging from the shadows, face pinched as you met his gaze.

“Yeah,” he responded tightly. “What is it?”

You held a paper sack in your hand, but the edges of the top were shredded slightly from fretful fingers. “I brought you a snack.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh, girding himself and stepping off the ledge as it finally rested to confront you directly. He accepted the bag. “Thanks.”

You were watching him carefully, eyes lingering a little too long for comfort.

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

You swallowed, troubled—the internal debate behind your carefully neutral expression was obvious in the way that you chewed the inside of your lip.

Miguel couldn’t say that he was fully kind when he prompted, very firmly, “I’ve already had one fucking heart-to-heart today. What’s one more?”

“You didn’t tell me I was your wife,” you said softly.

That statement took all the puff out of him in one fell swoop. Miguel’s shoulders sank and he looked off to the side. “How long were you listening?”

“Long enough.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it pertinent to the job,” he mumbled.

“So you planned to avoid me instead. To spare yourself the migraine.” You shook your head. “You didn’t have to bring me on if you didn’t want to, regardless of what Jess said. I didn’t necessarily want to join, you know.”

“You’re good at this,” he protested. “We need you here.”

“I don’t want you to torture yourself for the sake of efficiency. Between the two of us, I’m more expendable.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re not—”

“I’m a danger to your wellbeing, if nothing else.”

“Don’t…” He sighed tersely. “Don’t let what Peter said get to you. He’s a worrywart who sticks his nose in others’ business where he doesn’t belong.”

“It’s only been two months?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We need to, if it’s going to be this big of an issue. If that’s the reason you can hardly stand to be around me or to look me in the eye…seeing as you’re the main piece to this outfit, obviously the solution is to remove me from the equation altogether.”

“No,” he gritted out. “It’s—”

“Don’t tell me it’s not a problem.”

“It isn’t one!” he retorted.

“For Peter to decide an intervention was necessary? Yeah, I’d sure fucking say it is.”

Miguel let out a low growl, watching your expression slowly cracking at the edges—lines formed in the corners of your mouth as you pursed your lips, a deep wrinkle between your brows—but you still kept that damnable monotone. The same you’d used when you’d initially rejected his invitation to the society.

Indifference as self-defense. Didn’t he know that well?

“Look,” he ground out, “regardless of my…personal background, I mean it when I say that it isn’t something you need to worry about. All my shit doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Obviously that’s not the case.”

He had almost—almost—forgotten how impossibly stubborn you could be, and how badly it pissed him off when you were.

“It’s none of your business,” he retorted.

Your eyes flashed with indignation. “I would have liked to have known at the start—it would have explained the way you act around me and I wouldn’t have had to wonder what the hell I did wrong—but you probably didn’t because you figured it would’ve impacted my decision. And it would have, because I sure as hell didn’t want to put any stress between you and the others. If you knew me at all, you’d know that I hate getting involved in drama.”

“I do know you,” he responded, “and the reason I didn’t tell you is so you wouldn’t have to get involved. Even still, I don’t owe you an explanation—you’re not my wife.”

“No,” you spat, “but a version of me was! Don’t you think that earns me some basic civility? You convince me to take this job against your own wishes and then ignore me for a week? Do you even realize how shitty that is?”

Miguel stepped closer, looming over you, as the hot flush of anger began to creep out of his belly up his neck. “I have enough on my plate,” he muttered, “without you adding to the pot.”

“I wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t decided to bring me—if you’re going to be all wishy-washy about it, just let me go home and forget about the whole mess!”

Miguel clamped his jaw shut and closed his eyes tightly. “I…can’t do that.”

“And why the hell not?” You were matching his temper now, stoking it like kindling. “If it’s so bad for me to be here because I’m a duplicate of your dead wife, then why can’t you have the decency to act like my dead husband and communicate with me?”

He snapped. “Just because you were born with a mole behind your ear and burned your wrist baking lava cakes for your cousin’s wedding and got a crooked fucking cesarean scar because they let a goddamn student nurse stitch you up in post-op, you aren’t my fucking wife!”

The oppressive hush that directly followed the tapering echo of Miguel’s reverberating roar felt heavy enough to crush the air from his lungs. He dared not look away from your crestfallen expression for fear of letting slip the strict control over his that he metaphorically gripped with whitened, grinding knuckles. Even LYLA uttered not a sound, though it was of no consequence—Miguel could hear nothing but the infuriatingly rapid thrum of your heart as intimately as the mirrored pounding of his own just beneath his third and fourth ribs.

“…She lived?” you whispered hoarsely, to your credit never having flinched once at his enraged outburst. You didn’t even blink, staring at him with rounded, watering eyes and parted lips that only occasionally trembled.

The question was enough to off-center him, and he schooled his snarl into a slightly more composed scowl. “What?”

“She survived?” you croaked, your voice on the razor’s edge of breaking. “She actually made it?”

Dooming follow-ups indeed. Miguel vehemently wanted to refuse to answer them. Never did he want to rehash such a tender wound, especially given…every-fucking-thing about the present situation. It was hard enough having new members of the collective seeking solace in his losses in order to share the burden of their grief, but having such a conversation with (a version of) you…

“...Yeah.” He swallowed roughly. “The labor started two weeks early, and she was flipped over wrong. They had to remove her. She was in the NICU for three days, but…she turned out okay.” For a while, anyway—long before I ever got there.

You nodded, eyes falling to the floor as you worked your bottom lip between your teeth. Your restraint was admirable, but he could see the way you were trembling.

“That’s…that’s good.” You shook your head in a singular, abortive motion. “I…I guess something happened to her after, though. Right?”

Miguel, too, looked away. “Years later. Yeah.”

You nodded once. “…I’m sorry.”

He wanted to stay angry—it was so much easier to be angry than to be upset—but he couldn’t maintain it. Not with how heartbroken you looked. “It wasn’t your fault,” he responded flatly. “Either of you.”

“...What was her name?” you asked softly.

Miguel gritted his teeth. “Gabriella.”

You glanced up at him, the faintest suggestion of a smile tugging at the corners of your eyes. “After your brother?”

His throat clamped shut. He could only nod.

“I’ll bet she was beautiful.” You cleared your throat. “I hope she took after you, anyway.”

“She was. And…she did.”

Your expression shifted into something a little less readable. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you,” you started quietly. “I’m sorry if my being here has made it harder on you. I never meant to hurt you, or—”

“...Stop apologizing.”

“—to be a burden. I thought maybe I’d be able to finally get some closure being close to you, at least, even if you aren’t him, and—”

“Stop.”

“—I feel like I’ve just made it worse for you, and that was never my intention—”

“Stop it!” he pleaded, voice cracking. Your jaw clicked shut, looking stricken. “Please, fresa. Just drop it.”

You blinked. A tear slipped down your cheek. You opened your mouth.

“Don’t apologize,” he gritted out tightly.

“I…okay.” You swallowed, inwardly debating. You eventually caved at his defeated, if expectant, silence. “Did…did you call her that, too?”

Miguel squeezed his eyes shut, half-turning away from you. “...No. I called her Shortcake.” Gabriella’s mother had been Dulcita—but that was what his alternate self had used for her, so he’d adopted that instead to maintain his guise.

“...Oh.” You didn’t seem certain how to respond to that.

Miguel dragged a palm down his dampened face. “Look. It is…difficult. I can’t lie to you even if I wanted to. But you are rapidly proving to be integral to this team, and I’m not going to allow this to interfere with our combat compatibility in the field. But if it makes you uncomfortable, or if it bothers you, then it’s best if you’d just…go.”

“...Do you want me to leave?”

He glared at you. “What does that matter?”

“A hell of a lot.” Your gaze was resolute, unwavering. “I’ll only leave if you ask me to.”

Miguel regarded you for a long time. Finally, he let out a heavy, shaky exhale. “...No. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Okay. Then I’ll stay. And we’ll…work through this. Whatever this is.” You gestured between yourself and him. “For what it’s worth, while it hasn’t been easy by any stretch of the imagination…I still miss him, but it’s a relief when I’m around you, even if it only distracts me for a little while. It still hurts, but…it’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“I…agree.” Miguel opted to sit, sinking onto the edge of the platform and burying his face in his hands to avoid your eyes.

“...I miscarried.”

He peeked between his fingers without moving an inch.

You were fiddling with the fingertip of your suit, absently chewing on the inside of your cheek, gazing at the ground. “I didn’t know until after I’d lost her. Sneaking into a quarantined explosion site and getting bit by a radioactive spider didn’t agree with a baby, evidently.”

Miguel snapped eyes shut against their sudden, burning sting.

“It was too early to know anything. About two months. I…tortured myself about it for years. Felt like it was my punishment for not being there when…maybe if I had been, then Mig—you—he wouldn’t have…y’know.” You drew a shaky breath, your voice pitching with the strain of telltale tears. “She was the only piece of…of him that I had left,” you croaked hoarsely. “And I lost her, too.”

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured, shaking his head morosely.

“...I’m sure telling you the same thing wouldn’t make you feel any better, either.”

You weren’t wrong. “It’s been…longer than two months.”

He felt the weight of your stare on him—but it was sympathetic, not critical.

“I lost my wife three years ago.” He dug his fingertips into his eyes. “But I…did something two months ago that I regret. I learned something about canon events that I didn’t realize before. It…cost me a lot of lives. Countless lives.” He swallowed roughly, daring to look back at you through his dewy lashes. “My selfishness caused irreparable harm. An entire universe collapsed. I don’t want to make the same mistake—or lose you—again.”

Gone was any trace of ire from you. You only regarded him with those soft, sad eyes.

“I don’t want your pity,” he continued, preemptively, “I know I fucked up. I’m not making any excuses for what I did, just…trying to make reparations where I can. Not that there’s much of anything I can ever do to fix that.”

“I don’t pity you, Miguel,” you said softly. “But I am sorry that you’ve been hurt so badly.”

He ground his teeth, tucking his chin sharply against his chest. “It’s a sacrifice to do what I do. What we do. Even if we don’t want to do it. Even when we don’t want the bad that goes with the good.”

You stepped closer to stand between his feet. Your comparatively small, warm hand rested on his shoulder, a light but unwavering touch that anchored him more than he would readily admit. He resisted the urge to lean into it, but just barely. “That line of thinking doesn’t make it any easier, Miguel.”

He nodded silently. It really didn’t, but it was the doctrine he’d preach until he gave his last breath if it meant that another Spider-Person would find consolation in his words.

A long moment crawled by, and Miguel’s resolve was weakening by the second.

Finally, you withdrew your hand, eased back half a step, and turned. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He let you go. Your unspoken declaration lifted more weight from his shoulders than he realized he’d been carrying: you would stay, even though he’d already managed to hurt you.

He was already indebted to you beyond what he could repay.

[shimmerbeasts]

MINI CHARACTER PLAYLIST Share at least five songs that remind you of your muse, or that you associate with your muse's character arc. Including lyrics is optional.

Don't Remember Me by HalaCG

Why's it so hard to breathe? Chasing down more ways to please. I'll show them all I'm stronger Not like your memories Now that I've broken free You're not someone I need Won't play nice any longer. So don't remember me.

Let's be real: Everybody who has not followed my Jinx since yesterday knew this song was going to be on my list! Back when I first started out writing this muse and looked for fan songs (as I like to do), this song just struck a chord with me. The reason, it is on my list here, is if I had to characterise my Jinx with one song, all the struggles she endured, the difficulties, she has with her sister, but also that reliance and trust she has in Silco, this would be it. Don't Remember Me is Jinx broken down in her purest form.

Start Of Something New by Ely Eira

Take a step, let our moment come We can have our escape, hey We will have all that we wanted We will be touching the sky History can no longer haunt us 'Cause right now This is the start of something new

After the end of Act Three, with Silco dead and Vi having in her mind completely abandoned her for the final time, Jinx should be at her lowest point and utterly broken. However, that is not what happens. Instead, as she blows up the Council building with the Super Mega Death Rocket, it almost seems like she is experiencing a personal moment of triumph. Even though she is grieving so many things at once (both Silco and Vi simultaneously), she also is reshaping herself in this burn-it-all-down moment. For me, Start Of Something New embodies this idea of an older and more mature Jinx. If Don't Remember Me encapsulates Jinx as a whole, then Start Of Something New is Jinx becoming the toymaker.

Shared Eyes by Blixemi

You're not who you think you are And I wish I never knew I don't want to see the irony That you hate me for being you Pushed me to walk 'neath starless skies 'Cause I'll never shine as bright As the light of your eye What good is it to even try? You'll never hear, or see, or face All the parts of you you despise Come to life Standing right 'fore your eyes in spite Reminding both of us have wished on a starless night

Strangely enough, this song in my eyes is not about Jinx and Vi - it is about Jinx and Mylo! Specifically, it is about her wrestling with whom he is post-mortem. I believe that after his death, she spent a lot of time thinking over the fact that it was his voice she could hear and him she could see. I think a lot of her earliest actions are very much motivated by proving him wrong, yet at the same time, I could easily see her feel like she has almost inherited his nature and that there is some kind of truth in his ire. At the same time, Shared Eyes also captures her regarding Mylo's love and approval as being almost unreachable. Because she cannot just purely hate him. He is still her older brother, despite the mockery, despite the insults, despite the cruelty. This contradiction of her love for her older brother with what he has done to her mental state is perfectly shown here.

Voices by Motionless In White/Bad Luck by Aviators/In My Head by NateWantsToBattle

As I walk through this valley of shadows and death I curse not the wicked, I praise not the blessed If I told you the truth you'd beg me to change If fear were a currency you'd own the bank

______

Welcome to the freak show Thought the odds were equal Roulette in my head keeps rolling on Let the bloody streets flow Nothing holds a candle To thе rapid fire of my own gun Maybe psycho Push me and you might go Ovеr in a blaze of arcane blue Stop me if I ramble I'll come take a gamble for you 'Cause you need a little bad luck baby

______

You don't know the half of it (half of it) Hands up while I take the hits (take the hits) It's something that you can't admit I fight for my life, now I'm done with your sh- Say it once, say it twice, now you're in my head Say it all a thousand times, leaving me for dead Say it once, say it twice, now you're in my head Say it at the same time, Jinx, and now you're dead

I am aware that I am cheating a bit here because I am picking three songs instead of one. However, I will count them as one as in my eyes, these songs all depict one element of Jinx extremely well: Her mania. Whereas Shared Eyes showed the complexity of what Jinx is seeing, Voices, Bad Luck and In My Head all show how these hallucinations trigger Jinx's mania and madness and what it feels like to be enraptured by this mental instability. The instrumentals of all these songs are more in the alternative rock direction and they even sound a bit disjointed and overpowering. They do not just cover how frightening living in such episodes is for Jinx, but they also capture what a danger she becomes for other people. How her mania limits her inhibitions, how it gives her an easily excitable trigger finger, how it makes her almost revel and cherish the carnage, she is causing. I have a lot more songs which capture this Jinx is dangerous when a mania episode hits vibe, but those three are probably the most crucial ones.

You're A Jinx/Everyone Else Betrays Us/Is There Anything So Endearing As a Daughter?/You're Perfect from the Arcane soundtrack

When it comes to Silco and Jinx as people, I feel like their dynamic cannot be captured in songs. Mostly because both participants are such layered and complex individuals, which creates such a convoluted dynamic that most songs, dealing with complex (read: toxic) dynamics just do not encompass it completely. Poison from Hazbin Hotel sort of fits the bill, but if we are honest, nothing captures these two better than Arcane's soundtrack, specifically the instrumentals where their leitmotifs intermingle and influence one another. The way these four instrumentals work back to back in my eyes really shows under what extraordinary circumstances, Silco found Powder and how his influence was able to anchor her, even in the most trying and difficult times. At the same time, I love how the latter two songs show that Silco did indeed love Jinx and that he loved her completely unconditionally. Again, I need to reiterate how calming Silco's leitmotif is - especially with Jinx's violin themes, which are often frantic and high-pitched. Just hearing his leitmotif weaving into hers, you can hear Jinx's madness simmer down, you can hear Silco deescalating the situation in the music! And I love how this facette appears even before tracks like Is There Anything So Undoing As A Daughter or You're Perfect. It is like the instrumental is showing that Silco had Jinx's best interest at heart even back then!

Tagged by: @piltover-sharpshooter, @ferinehuntress, @jynxd

Tagging: @moxxietude, @playgroundmonsters (Ran and Vi), @undercity-merc, @restrainedhungr, @blackrosesmatron, @demacianhcart, @weavertali, and whoever has not done this yet.

[spaceless-vacuum]

I am sold on your yandere version of Link but I've gotta ask... How does he fair if he was to actually succeed in winning you over? Is he still the type to want to lock you away from the rest of the world or do you get to explore it still? With him at your side of course because he would never trust your safety to anyone else I'm sure.

I love this idea because he is so much more manageable when you go with him willingly. Maybe I’m just soft for yandere who manage their tendencies with their darling, but I love the idea of the two of you just getting along. Of course it’s not perfect by any means. You still have some rules to work around, some spoken and some are just there for you to understand.

The two of you do travel together. Fighting while on the road is always a prevalent issue in Hyrule. Yet he doesn't want you to get hurt. So to get him to agree to bring you along you have to prove that you wont start anything. If you're allowed to carry a weapon, it’ll be a bow. A sword or any other weapon would only encourage you to get close to the fighting. That is the exact opposite of what he wants.

In fact I think he’d be more inclined to give you a slingshot. You can use it to defend yourself, but you wouldn't want to get into a fight with just a slingshot. Making you rely on him for knightly duties while keeping you safe if something does go wrong. This also opens up the option for you to impress him with your abilities. Shooting down enemies from afar is something he appreciates, even if he wishes you would just leave all the fighting to him.

More on traveling with him, don't expect to travel when injured! If you get hurt you're staying at camp. Either there are if it’s close enough a stable or a house. Broken bones? You're not leaving the bedroll. Just sit there in the designated safe spot until he comes back from his quest. From there you can be escorted to his house. All the items needed to heal you are there. Don’t worry too much about it, he's just being kind.

Once there you aren't allowed to leave until you are healed again. It’s too dangerous to risk you being killed all because your body is too injured. Stay by him and only with him and you’ll be ok. Don't wander away or go too far from the yard. He’ll have to force some bedrest if you get too out of hand. It’s all for your own good he says, as he ties your ankles to the bed frame.

Some part of him knows it’s wrong and he does feel bad for doing it, especially since you came so willingly, but you have to understand it’s for your own good. He’s the warrior with hundreds of years of expertise here alright?

That being said, some part of him takes so much glee from the idea of you being right where he left you. Even when travelling around he feels it. The giddy joy of knowing you're right there. Sitting by the fire of the campsite right where he told you to wait. By the time he comes back he’s ready to hold you tight and lay kiss after kiss on your skin. His treat for a job well done. 

All the war and killing takes a toll on him. He is for all accounts a kid who has to sacrifice himself so others may stay safe. To feel just like that kid and not have to worry about the world for just a few moments is all he needs. He gets it when travelling by himself, with Zelda when they are not working, and with you. Coming back home to you for a cuddle session is all he needs to feel safe again.

So all in all, you going with him works out best for both of you. Yes you still have to be careful and not do anything to make him feel like you'll leave, which is easier said than done, but if you're inclined not to talk to strangers (or anyone that isn't him) already, can handle yourself but you try to avoid fights, and don't travel far from where you're left you're in luck!

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

ROAD TO FICTIONAL WRESTLEMANIA

KARL HEISENBERG ADDRESSES HIS OPPONENTS AHEAD OF THEIR SHOWDOWN:

(ABW Backstage Interview with Karl Heisenberg)

(The scene opens backstage at WWE Monday Night Fresh. The camera zooms in on Karl Heisenberg, clad in his usual mechanic’s outfit with his trademark hammer slung over his shoulder. His glasses gleam under the lights as he lounges against a metal crate. Heisenberg is scheduled to face Cal Kestis, the United States Champion, and Jack Marston in a triple threat match for the title. The interviewer, holding the mic nervously, steps in)

Interviewer: Karl, in a few weeks at Fictional Wrestlemania, you’ll be stepping into the ring with the United States Champion, Cal Kestis, and Jack Marston. What’s your strategy going into this match?

Karl Heisenberg: (chuckles) My strategy? Oh, I don't need a half-baked "strategy." See, I don’t do “plans” like some religious nut with a glow-stick fetish or that wannabe cowboy freak trying to live up to daddy's reputation. I am the plan, sweetheart. I show up, I break things, and I take what’s mine.

Interviewer: Well, Cal Kestis is known for his agility and he’s successfully defended his title in the past. And Jack Marston has that gritty resilience we’ve seen in past matches. You really can’t count them out of anything. Don’t you think you’re underestimating them?

Heisenberg: (mockingly laughs) "Agility"? Oh, don’t make me laugh. Cal Kestis is a D-tier fighter, at best, who thinks just because he prays to “The Force”, he’s got what it takes to be a champion. He only won the United States Championship out of sheer stupid luck. In fact, the only thing he has going for him is that Goth girl, Merrin, who follows him around and makes sure he doesn’t lose. Yeah, “real impressive”. Oh, “so scary”. Let me tell you something about Cal Kestis—he's a boy playing hero in a galaxy that never wanted him. He thinks his religion, The Force, gives him power, but I've got real power, honey. My skills don’t come from cults or Daddy’s sad legacy like Marston over there. I built my power with my own two hands. You know, the kind of thing real men do.

Interviewer: Since you mentioned him, anything else you want to say about Jack Marston?

Heisenberg: Jack? Oh, that poor sap. Daddy’s little desperado. He’s spent his whole life trying to prove he’s more than John Marston’s shadow, but newsflash, kid: you’re just as boring as your old man. John was nothing more than a championship thief, and his son? Jack’s not even that. You, Jack, don’t even have an iota of the already-minuscule charisma and talent that your father had. You’re just a sad little wannabe cowboy. Now let me make one thing clear; Cal is a religious nut and Jack is a cowboy reject. Me…I’m a f****** storm…and Cal and Jack are walking straight into it.

Heisenberg smirks, leaning closer to the mic.

Heisenberg: Marston can bring his plastic revolvers, Kestis can bring his “Force,”…and I’ll bring my hammer and a whole lot of pain. I don’t care who’s in my path, I’m gonna crush anyone who stands in my way. That United States title? That’s not Cal's to defend or Marston’s to dream about. It's gonna look real nice around my waist when I'm done with those two clowns.

Interviewer: (looking a bit uneasy) So you're confident that at Fictional Wrestlemania, you’ll be walking away with the United States Championship?

Heisenberg: Confident? Nah, that’s too small a word. I’m certain. There’s a difference. You see, they’re gonna be walking into the ring thinking they’re the main character. They’re thinking of cementing their legacy. But me? I just want to tear them apart and have a good time doing it. I’m the one-man wrecking crew they didn’t know they needed to fear, but after Fictional Wrestlemania…they’ll never forget.

Heisenberg adjusts his glasses, the sinister grin never leaving his face.

Heisenberg: And when I walk out of that ring with the United States Championship, it won’t be because of destiny or honor or any of that crap they keep preaching. It’ll be because I am the future of this place. And the future? It belongs to Heisenberg.

He turns and walks off screen, leaving the interviewer visibly relieved as the camera fades out.

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Group E Round 1

[image ID: the first image is a black and white picture of Akama, a Japanese man with short black hair, a bandana or scarf tied around his neck, a long sleeve shirt or jacket, holding what appears to be a small glass of alcohol. the second image is of No Significant Harassment, a shadowy figure standing behind a sleeping pink-red, fox-like creature. their green hands seem to be holding up the floating creature. end ID]

Akama

Look, I'm a big Dostoevsky fan and when reading "The Idiot" I didn't like Rogozhin one bit. But watching the Japanese adaptation and the new/different version of his character Akama? Suddenly I understood why Nastasya/Taeko was willing to go to him. Look he's a little crazy and also definitely bisexual. Like very bisexual. I think if him, Taeko, and Kameda got together it would be the world's worst trouple but also incredibly powerful and great. Who talks to his love rival and suddenly go "swap with me your charm even though mine is very fancy and expensive and yours isnt and it will be sign of our brotherhood and connection and also now you have to meet my mother and wow she likes you and also i'm going to try to kill you but won't be able to do it and even though you know that I want to kill you you'll refuse to think less of me and now i'm going to kill the woman we're both in love with and you and i are going to spend the whole night up together taking turns watching her body and you're going to ask me to go into detail about how i killed her and you also knew i would kill her and wow does the fact that I was able to kill her but not you prove that I loved her more or less than how much i loved you and I know i've just damned myself to prison but please don't leave me until the morning and you're so so good so much that Taeko was scared to ruin you but i don't care if i ruin you too but also you're a lamb and you need to be careful about wolves like me and even though I killed the woman you love you're still lying next to me under all these blankets because there's a blizzard out and we have to keep the room cold to keep her body from decomposing and smelling because she looks so beautiful and you should go look at her too when the sun comes up and wow my life is worse for having met you but i can't curse you in any way because you are so so good." anyways i'm normal about him

No Significant Harassment

They're just a silly little guy. A jokester. Significant harassment if you will. Anyway, a more in depth run down: They're a city sized supercomputer built by a Buddhist adjacent society to figure out how to transcend the 'Great Cycle' (semi-metaphorical cycle of death and rebirth) in a safer way than the previous method (submerging oneself in the 'void sea' which is a mysterious golden liquid that dissolves whatever it touches). Despite being built for this express purpose NSH never really shows a pressing interest in ascension, even cracking jokes about those who are still looking for a solution. Whether this is due to indifference, dislike of, or humor to cope with being unable to ascend is not clear and really up to interpretation. Example: NSH: I wish them super good luck in that endeavor. How is it going to happen? Have the overseers gnaw through bedrock until their entire can crashes down in the void sea? BSM: Please be respectful when speaking of the Void Sea. Grey Wind, where did you hear this? CW: I really shouldn't say. He's going to attempt some sort of breeding program. Thought you might want to know. NSH: Haha with the slimers, lizards and etceteras? Surely the answer was in a lizard skull all along! He's very flippant, but does care very intensely for those close to him. NSH: Moon? It's me again. NSH: I do not know if you are receiving these. Please signal in any way you can. NSH: I need to talk to you. I need to know you're okay. NSH: … NSH: Its difficult for us to assist you over this distance. NSH: Even more difficult for us to do anything in the midst of these tantrums. NSH: Were going to try everything that we can. NSH: Just hold on a little longer. (Context for previous convo: They genetically engineered a super organism of a slugcat (the species you play as in Rain World) to help reset his coworker/sibling after her collapse and restart her systems. He was so desperate to fix her that he accidentally messed up the slugcat's (Hunter) genetic code and as a result it became riddle with the Rot (relatively similar to aggressive cancer) :( which parallels his other coworker/siblings condition who also has the rot. ) He canonically uses he/they pronouns too! Nonbinary swag! NSH has major internet troll vibes. He has sent a data pearl of "something distasteful" to his neighbors on several(?) occasions and causes chaos. If he had access to the wider internet he'd probably be an influencer So…yeah! Vote NSH this website likes the allure of heavy machinery and stuff like that so… there you go. Kind of a blorbo. End post.

[ronearoundblindly]

Time and Tines (Preview)

an excerpt of Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader

Excerpt summary: With Buck's encouragement, Steve asks an interested, beautiful woman to dance. Surprisingly, it goes well. That's not the only surprising part...

A/N: Overall, this challenge is about bittersweet, doomed love, and while the excerpt is from the beginning (and thus more light-hearted), I wanted to sneak this in as a warning: it goes downhill from here. Mentions of needles/poison. WC 1098

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I’m a miserable dancer.” You lift your bejeweled clutch up alongside your lemon-lime soda. “Besides how would I carry it all?”

“Well, if they’d make dresses with fuller skirts like they used to, you wouldn’t have that problem. The world regressed that way. Real shame.”

“Don’t like the form-fitting gowns?” you cock your head with wide eyes.

Steve’s gaze snaps to his shoes, hoping to choke off the heat rising in his cheeks. It only chokes his words. “Oh, oh god, no. They’re lovely. I meant, ya know, pockets and…I just—I didn’t want anything to stop you.“

“Me neither.”

You take him in with a warm assessment and a quick evaluation of the room, tucking your lip between your teeth briefly. “You’re in luck,” you add with a laugh. “I’m about to blow your mind, Captain.”

He watches you open the clasp, fish around inside the tiny bag—barely an envelope, really, but Steve learned from Natasha that ladies can hold a scary amount in those things,— and pull out a silvery length like a party trick from the minuscule confines. The new strap allows you to toss the purse over your shoulder.

You present the transformation like it’s a superpower.

“Nifty,” Steve coos.

You nod an acceptance of his awe. “I am nothing if not prepared.”

“And now—“ he offers his hand again “—out of excuses. Bucky tells me I am ‘a sight to behold’ and not in a good way. Shall we prove him right in solidarity?”

You head to the open floor, guided by Steve’s lead. “Not gonna try to prove him wrong?”

He swings you around to face him. “How would I always win as Cap if I bet like that?”

You hum while Steve settles a hand over the satin at your waist. “Picking your battles, huh?” Free and delicate hands land at his shoulders before one smooths down his sleeve, your eyes never leaving his. “And I’m a fight waiting to happen?”

He gets lost for a few bars until he shows his true colors and winces.

“Well, my toes are fighting with yours, clearly.” 

But you simply laugh.

Steve’s brain turns over the steps and his apologies and then finally lands on a good line way after the fact. “Or, no, wait, I’ve got it now.” He squares his shoulders a little more and deepens his voice, comically.

“You’re worth fighting for.”

The snort huffed in his face is perfect, the grin that splits your painted lips over shining white teeth blinding and well worth his efforts.

“Oh wow. See!” He earns a featherlight slap to the chest. “You do have your charming moments, Captain Rogers.”

“Steve, please—“ he fakes leading you off the floor “—and could we go repeat that in front of—“

“—the extremely grumpy man gripping a beer bottle?” Your sights land across the room toward the bar. “I don’t know, Steve. Your critic looks pretty…something.”

Steve frowns when he sees Bucky. As his friend speaks with Dr. Avani, Bucky’s face pinches solid as stone, overly serious beside the doctor’s casual body language. Buck indeed looks pissed for no reason. 

Steve squints in apology. “He’s not—that’s just—I promise he’s not like that—“

Where was that teasing joy from a minute ago?

Steve contemplates that still when your hands release him, and his focus snaps back.

“I need to use the ladies’ room anyway,” you shrug, rubbing a palm up and down your bare arm.

“And then fireworks?” Steve inserts hopefully, almost removing his suit jacket right then to drape over your shoulders. He sounds like an excited schoolboy, and he’s again glad that Bucky is far enough away not to know how obvious he’s being.

You smile, a graceful tug at the dark, matte lipstick sculpted over your full—Rogers. Then a little nod is all you offer before turning to the hall, bag bouncing at your hip on its magic chain.

Steve watches you go, meandering over to Bucky while his head still glances in your last known direction until his friend grunts to get his attention.

Avani is gone, but Buck’s face remains sour.

“What on earth did Doc say? Some intel for a mission.” Steve’s only half-curious and fully-distracted though.

His friend just waves off the mood. “Where’s your girl?”

“She’s not…” Steve shakes his head.

“Fine. Where’s your girl for the night?” Bucky raises one eyebrow.

“You know that sounds even worse now than it did back then, right?”

“Well?” Bucky looks around inquisitively.

“Powder her nose—” Steve smirks with rosy cheeks “—then watching the light show.”

He gets a solid smack between his shoulders and a proud nod.

Steve tries to remain patient, he really does, but after a few minutes and nearly every guest settled into their own viewing spot across the long balcony, he checks back over his shoulder.

Nothing.

He excuses himself from Bucky’s side and wanders toward the hallway.

Yes, he knows he’ll look too interested and a bit stalker-esque, but he doesn’t want to miss the show—he doesn’t want you to miss the show with him. There’s gonna be this beautiful display in the sky and you’ll be engrossed enough that he can just look at the changing colors glow across your…

What?!

Around one corner of the wall, Steve sees a foot, one shiny, brown men’s dress shoe, and then another. Someone’s kneeling—shaking if the tremor of rolling toes is any indication—and then there you are standing over him.

“Doctor Avani?” Steve croaks, watching you raise a syringe and needle high over the man’s head.

You ignore Steve’s arrival.

The doctor’s eyes don’t break from you as he shrieks, “Captain, she’s mad. She—“

“How dare you? Bastard,” you bite out, heaving your weapon at the doctor’s exposed throat as Steve lunges forward.

It punctures the thick, luxurious navy fabric of Steve’s suit, and he feels the slight swelling pressure of liquid entering his forearm.

You release your grip, eyes wild and teeth bared. Gone is the sweet and serene woman he shared a drink and danced with.

The syringe stays lodged in Steve’s flesh as he pushes the doctor aside to shield him, but it’s too late for you.

Bucky followed behind him and now wraps your arms behind your back while you struggle to inch toward Avani, spitting insults.

“What was it?” Bucky demands. “What’s in there? What poison?”

Steve rips the needle out, checking it for any clues.

With a scowl, your fierce gaze stays on the doctor.

“Ask him. It’s his brand of suffering.”

\o/ Predictions? Squees? Let me hear 'em, gang! It's always a delight reading your thoughts.

[Main Masterlist]