#hoooo i love writing

[libbytwq]

The Usual (part 1)

an SMGL:E x Karen fic

part 2 part 3 (N/A) part 4 (N/A)

-♡♡♡-

SMGL:E stepped into the McDonald's, as they did every afternoon at roughly around the same time, wearing a cocky grin on her face as they step up to the counter.

Sure, McDonald's was great, but there was only one real reason why they show up at that McDonald's every single day without fail, and that reason was right behind the counter, with tired eyes and cat ears.

Karen, the single mother and one of the two workers at the establishment, stood behind the counter, and upon seeing SMGL:E, chuckled softly in amusement.

SMGL:E found Karen to be an interesting individual. She was sharp and had an attitude, but wasn't unkind. In fact, Karen has never once been mean to them. And that was what drew SMGL:E closer to her.

Sure, the day they met her, she was obviously faking kindness to them to make sure they don't lose a customer, but even then, it wasn't like she was mean or hateful or anything. And customer service kindness is better than no kindness at all. It was more kindness than they've gotten before while in the Mushroom Kingdom, so he'll take what he can get.

SMGL:E grins and strolls over to the counter, with a cocky and playful attitude. They lean their hand on the counter and look down at Karen, who is a little shorter than her. Karen looks up at SMGL:E and their eyes meet.

SMGL:E can already feel their cocky attitude begin to crumble. How did Karen manage to be able to do that?! Always manage to make SMGL:E fall hard...

She was determined to not fall in love with her, but goddamn, it was difficult... Karen has always been so chill and wonderful to talk to, it's hard not to be smitten...

SMGL:E tries her damn hardest to not let Karen falter their stride today. SMGL:E would just order the usual.

"Heyyyy, Karen..." SMGL:E said, flashing a yellow fanged smile down at the feline cashier.

Karen chuckled softly. She seemed to be used to SMGL:E's shenanigans by now, and wasn't intimidated by their appearance in any way. Although, Karen was never intimidated by her to begin with.

"Fancy seeing you here, L:E..." Karen said, smirking softly and looking down at her cash register. "Lemme guess... you want the usual, right? 10 piece chicken nuggets with a small fry, and a small Coke?"

SMGL:E grins and nods. Their tanuki tail swishes for a moment and their ear flicks, making her large pearl earring jingle a little bit. This was the exact meal that SMGL:E has ordered every time they stepped into the McDonald's, for a few months now.

"You know me so well," he says playfully. "You forgot something, though."

Karen rolls her eyes playfully, knowing what was coming next.

For the past month or so, it had been an ongoing habit for SMGL:E to ask Karen out for a date, and it was also a recurring thing for Karen to decline. Neither's feelings were hurt or anything, but SMGL:E had been doing it so often that it would feel weird if they didn't do it when they came in and ordered food. It was sort of an unspoken tradition the two had kinda gotten used to. An inside joke, even.

SMGL:E grinned and playfully leaned closer across the counter resting an elbow on the countertop and resting their chin in their palm.

"How about a nice date?" she says, their tone a little quieter, but still very much playful. Her tail swishes behind them.

Karen looks into SMGL:E's three eyes and grins softly, silent for a moment longer than usual. She glances at SMGL:E's lips for a moment, then back to their eyes, before shrugging.

"You know what? I'll change it up a bit. Sure. Why not."

SMGL:E double takes, before his eyes widen and he stands upright, stunned.

Did...

Did he just hear that right?

"Wait, huh?-"

Karen chuckles at SMGL:E's stunned reaction.

"Yeah, I mean... I get off work a little earlier than usual today... my kids are gonna be at a sleepover, so I won't have to worry about them too hard... we could absolutely go on a date."

SMGL:E stares at Karen, stunned. Time seems to slow down. It almost felt like SMGL:E and Karen were the only two people in the world for a moment.

Eventually, SMGL:E gets a grip on reality after a moment, and grins flusteredly. Their confident demeanor has completely diminished, and a purple blush has risen to her cheeks.

"...Really?" SMGL:E finally says after a moment.

Karen chuckles softly and nods. SMGL:E cool and confident demeanor seemed to diminish instantly, and that was almost amusing to her.

"Yeah, why not?" Karen said, chuckling. "Could be fun."

SMGL:E blushes madly and glances away.

...No way.

The single mother cashier cat that SMGL:E's been hitting on half-jokingly-half-not for the past couple months has just accepted their half-joking-half-not date invitation.

...Why did they feel so nervous all of a sudden? She's never felt this nervous before. Normally he's so confident, so cool, so evil... this is different...

SMGL:E realized that she may or may not have been quiet for a millisecond too long and quickly clears their throat.

"U-Uh- ...O-Okay. Cool. Uh. Nice. Thumbs up."

Karen's ear flicked. She smiled and chuckled softly.

...She was so pretty.

"Heh. Well, where did you want to go?"

"Huh?"

"Well, you asked me. Did you have something in mind of somewhere to go?"

"...A-Ah."

SMGL:E had not thought that far.

"Uh. Maybe... uh... well. Heh. Uh-"

"You don't have a place in mind, do you?" Karen cuts her off, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

SMGL:E sighs. No use hiding it.

"...Yeah."

Karen snickers and thinks for a moment.

"...Maybe someplace simple. Your place, maybe?"

SMGL:E chuckles nervously.

"Uh, I technically don't have a place... I kinda crash over at someone else's place, I don't really have my own place..." SMGL:E says, fidgeting their hands together nervously.

Karen snickers softly.

"...What about my place?"

SMGL:E pauses and looks up at Karen.

"Really? Your place?"

"Yeah", said Karen, shrugging and smiling. "My kiddos aren't gonna be home for a while. You could hang out for a few hours. Maybe eat some dinner. How's that sound?"

SMGL:E blushes and their three eyes sparkle.

"...Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great-"

"OY!"

SMGL:E and Karen are both jolted out of their conversation as they hear Karen's middle manager call out at Karen. The tall, low-poly man with a mustache appeared from the McDonald's kitchen entrance and began shouting at Karen in a strange text to speech voice. SMGL:E thinks his name was Swag? Odd name.

"What are you doing?? You got a job to do! Get back to work!"

Karen rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Yes, Swag... on it..."

SMGL:E watched as Karen begrudgingly walked into the kitchen, but not before she gave SMGL:E one last glance, and one last small smile before she disappeared in the kitchen to ready his order.

After a few minutes, Karen came back with SMGL:E's 10 piece chicken nuggets and small fry in a bag, and a small Coke in a cup. She handed SMGL:E the order from across the counter as SMGL:E handed her the money.

Karen smiled at SMGL:E, making their heart skip a beat.

"I get off work at 6:30. Come over to my place at 7?"

SMGL:E blushes and nods flusteredly.

"Yeah... sounds good... where's your address?"

"What's your phone number?"

SMGL:E said her phone number aloud as Karen typed it into her phone, then she proceeded to text them the address.

Karen smiled and looked up at SMGL:E.

"Don't be late."

SMGL:E blushes and nods, speechless and flustered. They give a nervous smile to Karen and quickly leaves the McDonald's with their food.

A date!

With a girl!

As far back as SMGL:E can remember, which isn't very far, considering she remembers nothing from before her Guardian pod crash landed into the Mushroom kingdom, SMGL:E has never dated anyone before.

They begin to whimsically walk back home, sipping her cup of Coca Cola, before three little whisps of light and color whizz by their hair. A teal one, a blue one, and a pink one.

SMGL:E sighs. These little whisps were not unfamiliar, in fact they were a common occurrence. They used to freak her out, but at this point, they felt more like an inconvenience.

SMGL:E rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the little sparkles, before suddenly the pink sparkle caught them off guard, with strange hieroglyphic looking letters appearing in front of her.

SMGL:E furrowed their brows and stared at the strange letters. They looked foreign, yet familiar. Yet for some reason, their mind wouldn't let her figure out what the words meant.

They rolled their eyes and continued trying to walk back home, or what she considered home -- SMG1 and SMG2's place. SMGL:E just got a date -- they can't focus on whatever these stupid spectral sparkles right now.

The sparkles kept encircling her no matter how much SMGL:E tried to swat them away.

The pink sparkle showed up again and tried to get in front of SMGL:E's face, trying to get their attention.

More hieroglyphics appeared.

SMGL:E groaned and began to walk faster, away from... whatever these strange symbols were. They looked like some kind of letters, that's for certain. But what did it say?

SMGL:E didn't know, and SMGL:E didn't care.

The pink sparkle just couldn't let SMGL:E rest, it seemed.

SMGL:E audibly groaned again.

"You stupid... sparkles... things... please don't fuck with my good day..."

The blue, teal, and pink sparkles stopped whizzing around him for a moment, before the pink one whizzed around and formed more goddamn hieroglyphics.

SMGL:E sighs. These stupid hieroglyphics were gonna mess with her head if they kept up with this.

It was one thing to hear voices or see things, but it's another to see another language you can't understand.

SMGL:E continued walking on, as the sparkles slowly faded away, first the teal, then the blue, and finally the pink one, but not before the pink one created a few more hieroglyphics before disappearing.

SMGL:E sighed and continued walking onward with their McDonald's meal.

They had a date to get ready for.

She can worry about this shit later.

-♡♡♡-

end of part 1

[abowlofsourcream]

⏳💫Switch a Loop! ACT 5: A Prologue 💫⏳

<-Prev

Next->

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Better Story, Improved Effects." Mickey Altieri X Reader.

Soooo I was re-watching Scream 2 last week while sick in bed and something finally clicked in my brain and I realized oh fuck, I love Mickey. So shit, here we are, his first smut! I dunno where this all came from but maybe it was just lying dormant under the surface and now it’s all out here to play and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Big shout out to @eggsandbeer for the title, beta reading and to her and ALSO @ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds for the help on his character and all the hyping up since this was my first time writing him.

---

Part two now here.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.3K. Mickey Altieri X FEM! AFAB! Reader. Warnings: Drinking. Cheating. You Are Randy’s Girlfriend. Shit Talking. Rude Behaviour. Manipulation. Making Out. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Eating Pussy. Teasing. Banter. Orgasm Denial. Extreme Frustration. Bad Mouthing Randy. Filming. Sex Caught On Tape. Dub-Con. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Spanking. Masturbation. Cuckolding. Vaginal Sex. Squirting. Cream Pie. 

—

The last way you wanted to spend your Friday night was attending a party solo and thoroughly annoyed with your boyfriend, and yet here you were.

You had been looking forward to unwinding from a hectic week with Randy, some drinks, getting a little messy, perhaps a bit publicly indecent. Then that turning from a kind of foreplay of its own to hastily finding a dark corner secluded enough to hook up with a minimal, (but still a very exciting and arousing), risk of getting caught. 

But no, sadly, instead of getting to do any of that you were walking up to the party already well underway totally alone and all because Randy had other plans he didn’t bother making you aware of until about an hour ago. He bought a ticket to go see some movie he had already seen a hundred times, a fact you pointed out quickly that had him replying with equal speed, saying, “But I’ve never seen it on the big screen!”

As if that makes it all okay and would quell your negative emotions and upsetness about him leaving you behind and kicking off his weekend without you. He made some over the top, big and grand promises about making it up to you tomorrow and you rolled your eyes with an unconfident, “Uh-huh”.

It left your lips before he proceeded to try and smooth his departure with a few kisses that you barely returned and on top of that didn’t do much of anything to smooth down your ruffled feathers. He left in short order and you finished getting ready for your night out in a huff. Did you pour some extra effort into looking good so he would feel extra bad and stupid for ditching you for some lame movie? Yes. Was that just a touch petty? Also yes but who could blame you?

Soon as you pushed your way through the bothersome cluster of assholes that were all hanging out and talking in the doorway, for some fucking reason, seriously, who does that? Your first order of business was getting a drink. 

The first one went down too quickly and quietly, you didn’t leave the drink station in the kitchen and certainly didn’t talk to anyone yet. One of your hands on the countertop as you gulped down the sticky sweet mixture. You made a second drink after the first and then decided to venture out and seek something out to make you forget about Randy, at least for a little while, the living room that was filled with music and people seemed like as good a place as any to start. 

He was hoping he might see you here tonight but seeing you here alone was an unexpected treat. He’d caught sight of you the second you walked in although you did not spot him right off the hop. 

He’d been keeping his eyes on you for a while and if Meeks was here there was no way he would have gone this long without latching himself onto you, he is many things, loud, opinionated, and fucking clingy. He doesn’t think there is a single time he had seen you two together where Randy hadn’t been hanging off of you, like he needed to touch you in some way at all times or he would be in physical pain otherwise. To be fair he isn’t sure he would be much better if you were his. None of your other friends were about and your expression told him you were upset, about what he didn’t know, and would he be a good friend if he didn’t walk over and check in on you? 

You on an average day was already a treat for the eyes but on a night out like this, when you poured in that extra effort was truly something to behold. He made his way over to you, sliding up beside you, a hand tapping you on the shoulder as he asked, “What’s with the frown?”

Your head snapped up, looking to see Mickey right beside you, hand hovering over your shoulder and smile on his lips but eyes concerned. “Is my bad mood so obvious you clocked it from across the room?” You follow the question up by taking a healthy sip from your drink.

A raise of his eyebrows as he brought up his own cup, he’d crouched slightly when greeting you but standing back up to full height and with a half shrug as he said, “Well it is kinda hard to miss when blue is very much not your colour.”

You stifle a laugh into your cup before saying, “Cute, very cute.”

A grin breaks out on his face, he already got you laughing less than a minute into him walking up, this was a great sign. “Soooo what’s up?”

“Ahhhh-” A dismissive wave of your hand as you raise your cup for another sip, and he laughs, a shake of his head as he points to you, “No, no ‘ahhhh’, something is up so spill!”

“I don’t wanna bring down your night.” You say honestly.

He scoffs, “Doubt that you could do that, and what are friends for if not to listen to whatever is eating you?” 

He made a good point. Maybe if you vented and got it all off your chest you would feel better? So you give in much easier than you probably should have. A heavy sigh and you take his hand with the one that wasn’t currently holding your drink, urging him as you say, “Okay, c’mon.”

Mickey brightens at the contact that you initiated as he lets you drag him off through the glass sliding doors leading to the backyard. 

Sitting on the back patio you proceed to spill your guts, the thump of the music lessened now that you were outside, much easier to hear each other and talk properly. When you finished filling him in he was less than impressed to learn of the reason for your bad mood, what kind of idiot was Randy to ditch you like this? He was of course, nothing but sympathetic to your plight and your pain but also that not so small and sick part inside of him saw this as a golden opportunity, a perfect way to hopefully do what he had been dying to for months. He just had to play it right. 

He started easy, saying, “Wow, no wonder you are so upset.” 

You exhaled with a nod as you leaned back in your chair and that led to him following up with, “I mean I knew Meeks was a fucking idiot but this might be one of the dumber things he has ever done.” 

A small shocked laugh spilled out and it emboldens him, he wants to lean closer to you but doesn’t want to push, not yet so instead he is continuing further before you could hope to respond, “Like does carrot top have any brains at all to rather pass up a party with you for a fuckin’ movie? I bet if I cracked his skull open all I’d find is some loose un-popped corn kernels and a pool of that artificial butter schlock they serve at the theatre he is at right now.”

“Damn Mickey, tell me how you really feel.” You responded before you giggled and he said with a sure nod, “I will! Randy fuckin’ Meeks is totally fucking brain dead for doing this and you should be pissed up at him.”

“Yeah?” You ask, fingers circling the rim of your cup and he said loudly, arms outstretched, “Yes! I mean Christ! What, you don’t think he deserves just a little bit of your ire for pulling this stunt?”

He makes a compelling argument. 

He had you smiling, had you laughing and more importantly, he validated your feelings. The more you both talked, the more he decried Randy’s actions and backed you up as your second drink was finished, you felt it. The annoyance, the anger, the unfairness, you ended up telling him a few more things, disagreements and issues minor in nature that Randy had done to upset you, things you think you would be over but when a bit tipsy and upset, venting, it all comes bubbling up to the surface. 

It really couldn’t have gone better, you giving him those few more insights gave him more chances to plant further unrest between you and him. 

You felt insanely heard and listened to, and maybe it was your overall mood, maybe it was a bit of the drink, but everything he was saying made sense, perhaps Randy wasn’t that great a boyfriend, this movie thing might be indicative of a bigger problem in your whole relationship. Your head felt confused but that was lessening, the longer you chat, the more he insists Randy’s behavior is fucked up, you find it harder and harder to deny that it held weight and made sense.

All and all the conversation was around a half hour before he was encouraging you to get up, saying, “Enough about that asshole, it’s Friday night and look around, it’s a party! He’s out having fun and you should be too.”

He was right again and you told him as such, feeling less burdened, lighter and overall excited to have fun and put those awful feelings aside for the time being. “Yeah! No more moping, fuck him, it’s his loss.”

“Hell yeah it is.” You get up and the pair of you end up marching back into the party. Another drink, talking about not as heavy topics, snacks, sitting in on a card game or two, watching part of a movie that was playing on the tv, and a few hours later you were sitting almost shoulder to shoulder watching a very spirited game of beer pong. 

You’d switched to water for a reprieve and during a small lull you said to him, “Hey Mickey?”

A questioning hum that had him turning his head to look at you, “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say thanks for this. I was feeling really fucked up earlier and if you hadn’t stepped in I woulda had a totally shit time tonight but you completely salvaged it. So uhm, thanks.” 

He smiles, a shrug before he says, “Least I can do, I sure as shit wasn’t about to let you sit around all dramatic and morose.” 

You laugh before trying to defend yourself, “Dramatic and morose, huh? I don’t know if it was that bad.”

His silence speaks volumes. 

You speak his name in a questioning and warning tone and he holds up his hand, a wishy washy and wavering hand motion as he said, “Ehhh-” 

A scoff of mock offence bracketed with a laugh and you playfully punch him in the shoulder, “You dick! I thought you were saving me from my shitty boyfriend for the night! I didn’t know I was just trading one asshole for another.” 

He plays up the impact, rubbing his shoulder as if it actually hurt and he says, “I’m just being honest, I thought you liked me when I was honest.”

“Honest or mean?” You fire back with a grin and he says, “There’s a difference?” 

“For the average person, yes.” 

All the back and forth was very fond and fun. You were feeling much better than you had been earlier by now and you suggested, “Wanna get out of here? Go for a walk?”

“Sounds good to me.” 

You had no destination in mind. Just fresh night air and more conversation. As you meander about the topic, unsurprisingly considering you were talking with Mickey, the talking turns to movies. 

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Stab?” He asked dramatically aghast, way too loud and head up towards the sky as if God themself would have the answer he seeked and you laughed, “I just haven’t!”

“Well we can fix that, no, we should fix that.” He insisted, a wave of his hand encouraging you to follow as he changed course, you turn to follow, a small jog to catch up to him, “What is it that good?”

“God no! It’s garbage.” He said with a look over his shoulder towards you as if you were nuts for even suggesting it was good. You laughed, “Right, so it’s garbage and so I have to see it?”

“Naturally.” He said with a confident nod, hands sliding into his pockets as you fell in step beside him and you say, “Isn’t it not out of theatres yet? I doubt a show is gonna be happening past midnight.”

“No worries about that, I got a bootleg.” He assured and you asked incredulously, “A bootleg of this garbage movie that you don’t like?” 

“Do you not own bootlegs of movies you hate?” He asks and you say, “No because I’m not a fucking psycho unlike my present company apparently.” 

He laughs the comment off and soon you are at his place, you had never actually been here before. It was late but you weren’t in a rush to go back to your own abode alone, leading you to step into the door he was holding wide open. Wasn’t a bad place at all and you had it to yourselves, it was slightly cluttered but clean and no off putting smells or gross dishes or garbage so hey, a big win and a leg up on many other college living spaces you’d seen in your time here. 

Your eyes wander over the space, posters littering the walls, books scattered around and other items as he puts the tape in before coming to flop down beside you with a smile, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” 

The couch wasn't half bad, there was more than enough room on it for you and him and yet you didn’t stay far apart for long. As you watched and talked, Mickey pointing out flaws and inaccuracies, jokes and riffing you and he scooted nearer, until this moment right there, where you were just about shoulder to shoulder. One of his hands was on his own knee, the other one gesturing to the tv screen as he said, “I mean have you ever seen organs look faker? The colour is totally off, the blood spray should have been bigger and this is supposed to be outside! Where’s the steam?! The inside of a freshly ripped into body should be hot.”

It wasn’t like horror was your favourite genre and you are sure it isn’t his but you could appreciate the passion he held for the craft, for authenticity of film making, you keep the mood light tease, “Oh yeah because you know just what a murder scene looks like, right?”

He laughs, hardly managing to stifle it before he says, “You don’t know everything I’ve done, I could have all sorts of life experiences you are unaware of but besides that it doesn’t take a killer to know that based off the body's internal temperature if sliced into like that-” Another point to the screen, the mangled torso with the mess of red and innards on display, “-it would steam up in the fall evening air.” 

You hum with a nod and then a line read on screen was so bad he started up again with another joke that had you laughing in a way that made it hard to breathe. He was piling on, you leaning into him fully now and then that is when his hand makes contact, again only after you touch him first. 

A simple move from his own knee to yours, both cracking up and as you come down his hand doesn’t move, instead a simple squeeze as his gaze shifts from screen to you and back again. He is wearing that sideways grin that before tonight sure made your own stare linger a bit longer than it should for a person with a boyfriend, but now? It was having a different effect. 

You’d thought about it, mostly before you got with Randy, but Mickey was a really attractive guy, you got along absurdly well and tonight he treated you amazingly, was here for you in a big way when you needed him. You weren’t even tipsy any longer, you can’t blame the feelings he was giving you on the alcohol. You were only human and him encouraging you to feel your emotions, validating them, the close proximity and clear chemistry you both had wasn’t helping this either. You were positive he was into you. 

Were you seriously considering this?

He interrupted your thoughts, “You having a good time?”

The question startled you. Not just because he spoke but what he said, Mickey was a pretty self assured guy, the question might sound insecure in nature but it wasn’t spoken in a tone that lended to that. You play along and respond, “Yeah, yeah I am. Why do you ask?”

“Oh just know that what we got up to tonight probably wasn’t what you were initially planning to.” He responded with ease, not insecure, just concerned and you sighed, he was a really good guy wasn’t he? 

“Yeah it wasn’t but that isn’t your fault it’s Randy’s for ditching, besides what we did almost all of what he and I would have anyway plus some extra stuff.”

You gesture to the screen and the movie you certainly wouldn’t have seen were it not for him. He asks next, “Well glad I could help give you a good Friday night but that almost all has me curious, what exactly did you miss out on?”

You were painfully aware of the fact that his hand was still on your knee, your eyes drew down slightly at the maintained contact, your shoulders still pressed together, your thighs touching, you leaning into him has created multiple points of contact that you were only just paying attention to now. His body was warm, he smelt good and the question he asked made your mind run back to your intentions at the start of the night, of that semi public risky fuck you wanted to have with Randy. 

A subdued shrug, so small that if his eyes weren’t locked onto you and your shoulder on his he might have missed it, “Nothing two college kids in a relationship wouldn’t normally get up to post-party.”

“Ahhh.” 

The silence that followed was heavy and tension filled and he said, his eyes moving over you in a way that could be read as more than just ‘friendly’, “Shame I can’t help you out with that.”

Fuck it.

“Couldn’t you?” The question was spoken with your gaze raised, gaging his reaction, the slight raise of his eyebrows and confusion on his features meets the small uptick of the sides of his mouth, “What about Randy?”

“What about him?”  You bite back with a casual shrug.

This was too perfect for him but he still had to play this right. An amused exhale before he reminds you, “He’s your boyfriend?” 

“And yet I am here with you, alone in your place and on your couch with him nowhere in sight.” And any remaining gap was closed by you, leaning that last bit, one hand meeting his cheek and you tugging him closer to kiss him. As soon as you made that final move, as soon as your lips met his all bets were off, this was happening, patience and hard work pays off and he can take.

The response you draw from him is immediate, a soft groan, his hands moving, finding your waist, shifting his body and adjusting his posture to better return your sudden affection. You move with him, allowing him to do what he wants, take more of the lead, something he seemed to do with a startling amount of ease, as if he expected you to not only bend but to be into it.  

You were very much into it. 

It wasn’t like what you had with Randy was bad but he was relatively inexperienced when you got together and still wasn’t the most confident without some major prompting and praise. He was a good kisser but more than that you had a great rhythm off the hop, found a solid groove with a natural give and take that seemed to feed into one another beautifully. His hands feel good on your waist, they are grounding and it drives you to want to touch him further. The thumb on your hand still cupping his face swipes over his cheekbone and you tilt his face to be closer still, a move he permits along with your other hand starting on his side before wandering up the expanse of his chest through his shirt. 

His hands slip lower, you feel a rough press of him over your hips and then his hands on your outer thighs and he tugs, a further adjustment so you are underneath him, he is leaning further forward, his body starting to cover yours as the make out hastily progressed. The need overwhelms you first, he breaks the kiss and his lips drags down your jaw and further still, kissing over your neck and you arch, squirming your hips, grinding against him and he smiles against your throat from how well this is going so quickly. 

Your fingers hook in the neck of his shirt, tangling, twisting, you pull, desperate for more contact as you grind again, he nips lightly at your pulse and you moan again, softer and so sweet, addicting for him to hear. Another few passes of tongue and of teeth that have your thighs hugging his hips and the next grind that happens is mutual, as is the breath that is caught in your respective throats. “Fuck, you’re better at this than I imagined.”

The smile on his face shifts to a grin that is outright cocky, one of his hands on your hip he pulls, makes you grind on him in a way that has your head falling back with a sigh and he asks, “Have you imagined me like this a lot?”

Your hands don’t stop wandering his body, feeling him and when you don’t respond right away, more concerned with the next move of your hips and the subtle rush of pleasure, he continues, “Thought about me being the one doing this when you’re with your shitty little boyfriend?” 

A shake of your head,  but you don’t stop, you start to tug, a silent plea for him to take off his shirt and one he gives into as you say, “He’s not that bad.” 

He is sitting up on his knees, the lack of contact makes you want to complain but the fabric is peeled away and thrown to the side and any possible complaining is forgotten about. A scoff, “Sure, yeah, he’s a real great guy, hence why you were just grinding yourself all over me with your tongue down my throat.” 

A laugh that is too light all things considered, “Shut up.” 

He listens. Your hands on his shoulders yanking him until he is against you once more, your mouth crashing into his. Your body was warm and soft, you were talking about this being better than you imagined but he was stuck with the same realisation, you were a good kisser, had amazing give and take and of course the mental aspect, you were in a relationship but ready and willing, touching him, kissing him, it had him aching in his jeans. He started to tug on the bottom of your top and you broke the kiss in a hurry to free yourself of the constraining material. The sight of you in your bottoms and the pretty lace framing you up top turns him on so much more.

It progresses quickly after that. You spread below him on your back, your tongue parting his lips allowing his into your mouth, an action he completes with a small groan his wandering hands choosing to settle, particularly one finding its home between your thighs and you arched into his touch with a hushed, “Fuck yes.” 

He lets out a pleased hum, your hands work with his, removing the remaining clothing to give him better access and when there is the last layer between you and his touch he asks in a tone that is as humorous as it is sickeningly sweet, “Am I allowed to speak?” 

A hurried nod as you squirm, his fingers brush over you more firmly and he says, “You’re fucking drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever felt someone get this wet from just a little making out, how hard up for it are you?”

“Very.” Your breath hitches and he knows he’s found the right spot to focus on, fingers swirling over your straining clit through your damp panties. “Is he not doing what he should be?”

Your brain feels foggy, you are far more concerned with the sensation starting to wash over you, limbs feeling heavier, eyes half lidded and rocking your hips with the movement of his hand, “Who?”

He laughs, “Who? You already forgot all about him? That tells me everything I need to know that poor ol Meeks isn’t satisfying you.” Before any protest or defending of your boyfriend could leave your mouth he is tugging the crotch of your panties aside and feeling the bare heat of his fingers against you makes you gasp, head falling back against the arm of the couch. 

You try to push out what you wanted to say, try to tell him, “I-I didn’t forget M’ just, ugh, distracted, you-you’re distracting.”

“Awe yeah, I’m a really big distraction, do I make it hard to think?” He asks as his fingers pick up the pace, pressing more firmly you moan and nod, “Yes! You do.”

“I could make it worse.” He teases and he moves quickly. Still shirtless, in just his jeans he is on his knees and tugging you further down the length of the couch, underwear half on, your legs over his shoulders his head dips down and his strong but soft tongue licking that first stripe over your clit has you crying out with an arch of your back. 

He did make it worse. You couldn’t think properly as soon as the make out started, your mind was far too busy with him and the taste, feeling, the pleasure, it stole all logic and sense. With his lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, cradling your clit and sucking indulgently, pretty mouth latched on and tongue lathing over you between his lips, fingers digging into your hips and ass as he held you where he needed, you felt like you were threatening to fall apart in less than five fucking minutes. 

Panting out his name, heels digging into his well toned back, fingers scrambling against the corduroy like material of the couch cushions as the feeling built, if he kept this up you’d be cumming against his talented tongue in about two more minutes. Thighs squeezing his head as well as your erratic breathing clues him into how close your end is and he pulls back, the wet strand of spit, the leash connecting his mouth and your clit breaks as he moves back, his fingers take over, messy circles drawn and you whine as the edge backs off from the change in pressure and technique, “How are you doing up there?”

His own voice sounded rough with arousal, the knowledge that he is into this, getting off on eating you out makes another wash of arousal soak into your brain, heart still pounding as you tell him, “Good, so good, please Mickey, keep going.”

“Keep going?” He asks, his head resting on your inner thigh as his fingers continue to dance over your pulsing clit, your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, a nod as your eyebrows draw together, “Yeah, please? I was getting close, an-and your mouth is, fuck, amazing.”

He preens under the praise, “Oh is it?” He is playing dumb as his thumb comes down and he pulls your clitoral hood up, nerve dense tissue exposed and vulnerable, he blows gently and you shiver, body tensing, Christ, how were you so sensitive that even air passing through his lips felt this good? 

“Ye-yeah, I wanna cum, please, please-” And he decided to tease you further still, he leaned in, tongue out and your eyes are wide, teeth tugging on your bottom lip, desperate to feel him again, for him to keep going, to push you over the edge. Less than an inch from contact he pulls back with a sigh, “I dunno-”

Your head tips back with a loud groan as you roll your eyes, “Fuuuuck, Mickey, c’mon, I’m dying over here!” 

“Yeah? Does it hurt, yet?” He asks and you do notice a distinct ache along your swollen walls, a throbbing pain of denial in your clit steadily building and how awfully empty you feel at this moment. 

“Starting to, yes.” You bite out and he says, “Maybe I should be nice and help you out.”

“Yes, please, please be nice to me.” You beg and with your head still back, staring up at the ceiling you are unprepared when he licks over you again, the yelp that leaves you makes him snicker before he says, “Sure, I’ll be nice, I’ll get you off.”

You ramble, babble out your thanks and his mouth is back where it should be, lips locked over your clit, licking, sucking, one of his hands sliding between your thighs and two fingers delve inside to aid further, you clench around them with a stuttered moan of his name. It takes about three minutes for you to be on the edge between him working your clit and his fingers fucking in and out of you, curling just so in and out again and again. “God, Mickey, don’t stop, don’t stop, M’ almost there-”

And then he does just that.

He stops, his fingers stay lodged inside of you, fingers pressed to that sweet spot he’d found with ease but no longer moving and you want to cry, you ask in completely frustration, “Mickey what the fuck?” 

“I know, I know, I told you I’d help you out and M’ gonna, soon as you give me something.” You are looking down the length of your body to him between your spread thighs and are just about ready to agree to anything so long as he’d make you cum. “What is it?”

The grin on his face is positively wolfish, he licks again over your clit and you inhale sharply, “Nothing big.” 

“No?” You ask and another lazy lick combined with a rock of his fingers he says, “No. I just want you to tell me I’m better than Randy is and I’ll make you cum your brains out.”

Your heart drops, you shake your head, for some reason, that wakes you up, makes the heat inside you cool, you feel like that is the line, that is too far, you say, “No, I-I can’t do that.”

He tsk’s, “Shit, guess you don’t want to cum that bad then.” He didn’t stop though. He didn’t pull away, far from it, he goes back to eating you out and fingering you he just kept fucking stopping before you could cum and he kept on posing that question, your juice painting his chin. 

“You wanna admit it yet?” And you kept on telling him, “No-no, I-I don’t ha-have anything to admit.” 

It made him laugh. He had two fingers three knuckles deep inside you, right now and felt your clit pulsing in pure frustrated need in his mouth less than two seconds ago but sure, you had nothing to admit. “I can feel how hot and worked up you are, how many times have I edged you already? You are a really, really bad fucking liar.” 

“M’ not lying!” You attempt to assert but your voice wavers, “No? So I’m not better than Randy? He makes you sweat and tremble like this before he’s ever even made you cum once?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and refuse to meet his gaze. You want to thread your fingers in that stupid sexy messy hair and grind on his tongue until he makes you cum, not have this stupid battle of wills.

“Mmm, yeah that is why you aren’t able to look at me, because I am so far off base.” He sounds unbearably smug and he slides his fingers out of you and you almost break, you want to sob and plead for him to continue but he is sucking the mess that had coated his fingers and you again feel your mind going blank at the visual. 

He is getting up and his erection pressed against the denim looks like it has to hurt, he was starting to undo his pants and said once he was standing at full height, “How about you return the favour though and see if your tune changes?”

That sounds way too appealing to you especially because you could pay him back with some torture of your own and torture you do. After taking in the sight of him bare, your mouth is practically watering, he looks frankly delicious and you intend to dine happily. Your hand locks around the base and you lean in, eyes staring up at his face as your tongue makes the first pass, intent on taking in his expression and how he reacts to the movement. It is positive to say the least, the slight inhale, the tensing of his muscles, and the small curse that spills out. Your tongue flicks over his flushed tip, tasting the ample pre-cum that he had been leaking, your lips close, a chaste kiss before you begin to move down one side of his shaft, he is impossibly hot and throbbing in your grip. 

This is going to be too easy. 

Is what you initially thought but you would also be very wrong, because even as you let him breach your mouth, even as you begin to suck and take more of him in, you don’t feel in control or empowered. You feel weaker and hotter, he made you feel so fucking good with seemingly such little effort that you being able to do the same, to pull such reactions out of him makes you want consider his previous offer more seriously. 

You try to push those thoughts away as you blow him.

You gag yourself, choke on him and it makes him groan your name, his hips buck, he fucks in and out of your lips stretched around him and drool slips out, slides down your neck as you hold his hip with one hand, the other around the base of him still, hand working him in tandem with your mouth. You look up again, his eyes are still on you, on the length of him sliding between your slick lips, his neck and chest blooming red, flush from pleasure painted over his features as he pants and you squeeze your thighs together. 

All in all you used your mouth on him for around five minutes before you break, pulling him out you ask, out of breath and needy, “Fuck me?”

Randy is coming inside after going to get himself some breakfast, it’s around ten AM, sun shining and he is carrying a stack of mail and thinking about giving you a call soon to make up for him bailing last night. The movie was a good time but he missed you, he didn’t do much after the movie, came back here and went to bed basically, he thinks you will probably be up soon. He is about to sit down on the couch when something catches his eye, namely, a tape half in half out of the VCR. He comes forward, he pulls the tape out and there are no markings whatsoever on it, odd. 

He is curious enough that he thinks why not, he shrugs and pops the tape in, he walks back around the coffee table and is flipping through the mail again but what he hears gives him pause, makes him stop. 

Hearing a very familiar modulated voice greeting him, “Hello Randy. Been a while. Seems like some stuff has changed for you, like the cute girlfriend, she’s new. I like what I have seen of her, how much I have seen of her, thought you’d be interested to see what she was up to last night that I managed to catch on video.”

And the voice over cuts out and instead he is hearing your voice, gasping out, “Mickey oh my fucking God-”

He pauses flipping through and looks up and what he sees playing out on the screen makes him gasp.

The video shows a well lit apartment, the main focus of the shot is a couch, the view is from the side and bent over the arm of the couch pointing at the lens is you, not a stitch of clothing on, fingers digging into blue fabric, open mouthed and moaning, with who the fuck else but Mickey Altieri behind you. He was fucking you and seemingly you were loving every second of it, your face twisted in bliss and rocking back onto him, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good?” He asked with a laugh and your head pitches forward, a shaky nod and you hum the affirmative, “Mmhm!” 

“Yeah it is, fuck you’re tight.”  His hand reaches out, he grabs your hair, wraps the handful around his fist and he tugs hard, you cry out and clench down on him making him suck his own teeth from the sharp jolt of pleasure, he is pulling your hair so your head snaps back up, making sure he is showing off your gorgeous expressions for the camera. 

Little did you know that when he passed by the camera set on the counter earlier to grab his bootleg he turned it on, that it had been running this whole time. It didn’t take much to edit it, or to add the voice over or for him to sneak it into Randy’s apartment either, honestly it was too easy if anything. 

Randy had dropped the mail and was slowly sitting down, he can’t stop watching as you rock yourself back, helping impale yourself on Mickey and moaning the whole way. His hand that wasn’t pulling your hair is sliding down and the cry that tears from your throat makes what he is doing obvious, fucking you doggy style and toying with your clit at the same time has you telling him in a few more thrusts, “Shit, oh, ohh Mickey, fuck, I-I’m close again, fuck-” 

“You gonna give it up? You gonna say what we both know is true?” He prompts and you shake your head, “I-I cah-can’t, Mickey, just, let me cum, please-”

“Not till you say it.” His hand is out of your hair and laying a hard hit onto your ass that makes your back arch and finally you can’t take it any longer, your confession pours out, “You’re better than him okay?! Fuck, fuck! You’re so, so much better tha-than Randy, make me feel so good, he-he’s a joke next to you, God, don’t stop!” 

“Oh there you go, see? Doesn’t being honest feel so, fucking, good?” Those last three words are bookended by a brutal thrust, another strong move of his fingers and finally you break, nodding along, agreeing as you cum chanting his name over and over like some broken and fucked up prayer, trembling the entire time as the pleasure tears through you and threatens to make you collapse. 

“What the fuck…” Randy asks quietly as he continues to watch the scene unfold, watch as Mickey keeps railing you totally dumb and you agree with all the fucked up things he asks, drooling and telling him, “You’re so good, so much better, keep, ah, keep fucking me, please!”

“You think I’m able to stop now? Not a fucking chance.” 

He can’t bring himself to turn it off. Even as you continue to insult him, even as Mickey makes you parrot back that Randy is quote, “A shit fuck-ing boyfriend who doesn’t deserve you.” 

When you say it though it sounds a lot more broken and pathetic, "He-he's a shit fu-fuck-ing boyfriend who-who doesn't deserve meeee-"

Randy gets shamefully, embarrassingly, painfully hard as Mickey fucks you harder and harder, fucks you through another two more orgasms and a few more good position changes. Watching you ride him while he has a hand locked around your throat is hard to take, but the worst has to be when Mickey has his arms wrapped around you, fucking up into you and you are just trying to take it, legs shaking and too weak to do anything else but cling to and kiss him as he has you, as he holds you. That sloppy kiss is broken, your eyes squeezed shut as you are telling him for the fourth time since the tape started, “Mickey, I’m close again, God, yes!”

And not only do you cum, not only do you sob out his name as Mickey’s hard dick slips in and out of your well fucked hole, no, you end up squirting too, something Randy didn’t even know your body was capable of. Your moan bleeds, cracks at the edges and the man fucking you laughs, a blissed out joyful sound of disbelief, “Holy shit!” 

The amount that comes out of you is impressive, he watches as the camera picks up the rivulets of liquid as they race down Mickey’s shaft and his sac and the quickly darkening stain under the pair of you as he doesn’t relent even for a moment. Mickey kisses you, deeply, sloppy and to add further insult to injury, after you are coming down from your orgasm, he breaks that same kiss he initiated and asked, “Randy ever make you squirt like that?”

And you laugh, eyes rolling back and a shake of your head as you breathlessly admit, dumb and cock drunk as you tell him, “No way, not once.” 

The tape doesn’t even stop there, it goes on until Mickey is the one warning you minutes later of his impending orgasm and it is like you become possessed, your hands lock behind his neck, a burst of energy, motivated, you ride with abandon and Mickey doesn’t even have to ask, you are too far gone, you are the one who begs, “Cum inside, don’t pull out!”

He should get up.

He should turn off the tv.

He should take out the tape and smash it to bits but no, he does none of those things. He watches helplessly as Mickey’s hands grip your hips so hard Randy bet’s they will bruise as he holds deep and unloads inside of you. Mickey let out a groan of your name and you shiver and Randy is sure you can feel every pulse of him as he fills you. 

The come down is sickeningly and stomach turningly intimate, he feels as if he is intruding on a private moment even though you are his girlfriend. He watches the kisses passed back and forth, the soft touches and he is about to wonder when the tape WILL finally cut when he hears that mocking voice of Ghostface again, “Pretty hot, huh? I think they make a good couple, what about you Meeks? You enjoy the sequel?”

And the screen goes black.

He sits there staring at the tv set for all of thirty seconds before he gets up and goes over. He doesn’t hesitate to hit rewind. He should talk to you, confront you about what happened, what this means, what you did but when the tape finishes rewinding he doesn’t do that. 

He takes his original seat and frees himself from his pants and guilty enjoys the second of what is sure to be many viewings with his dick hard and hot in his palm.

[changeling-ash]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: QSMP | Quackity SMP Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ángel Missael Castañeda Vega | MissaSinfonia/Phil Watson | Philza, Iván Buhajeruk | Spreen/FitMC Characters: Phil Watson | Philza, Ángel Missael Castañeda Vega | MissaSinfonia, Chayanne (QSMP), Tallulah (QSMP), Cucurucho (QSMP), Iván Buhajeruk | Spreen, FitMC (Video Blogging RPF), Roier (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: OKAY SO EVERYONE but the two that shall not be named is gonna be here, Canon Rewrite, spreen suffering is my drug, A lover letter to Qsmp as whole!, Retelling, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, gonna start funny and enter angst-land, especially since the Angst Queen will be surveying, Pining, Mutual Pining, Winged Phil Watson | Philza, Reaper Ángel Missael Castañeda Vega | MissaSinfonia, Grim Reaper Darryl Noveschosch | BadBoyHalo, Slime Charlie Dalgleish | Slimecicle, Romance, Death Family, There will be other relationships but I don't want to clutter the tags with background ships, Other characters too but in the background, Slow Burn, slowish burn, Adding ships as they become majorly present, Mild Blood, Imprisonment, (but thats just the qsmp for you), Animal Death, Child Death, Character Death, people die, if you see us add some tags ahead of time no you didn't, Kissing, First Kiss, a little suggestive?, Blood and Injury, Violence, A little gore, Eldritch, Body Horror, Slightly - Freeform Summary:

What if we could turn back the clock? See the story again? What if it went differently? What if it didn't have to end?

A retelling of the whole QSMP story, originally made up of 68 pages and 256 paragraph length bullet points, now made into a full fic. It centers mostly around the death family with delightful encounters with many other favorite characters (Ash demands as much Fred as possible...).

Removing the restrictions of streamer schedules to accentuate many friendships and dynamics, expanding on abandoned storylines or plot points that didn't work out.

So. Let's tell this story one more time.

MY BABY HAS BEEN POSTED!!

Look at my baby.

[dib-thing-wannabe]

Happy Father's Day to all the father's that celebrate!

Fun Fact!: Did you know that Three most likely views himself as a failure of a father towards Terrance for letting him die, and probably even more so due to it being at his hands?

[cryptocism]

there is something so visceral about the six focused chapters you’ve written. like from the get-go his POV is just completely defined by loneliness. and also i had my suspicions but i can’t believe six actually was the one to take out his own eyes…

GOD YEAH. Six got a lot more spotlight in this story than originally planned, but its tough NOT to write a million words about a character who can access all of time and space but only if he Never Interacts with it in any meaningful way. the implications... i didnt think about the implications....

also i just love a time traveller character they are my kryptonite

in the original outline i had some flashback sequences with Six and his technological devices: the myriad ways he originally tried to shield himself from Three, eventually building Seven, giving himself cybernetics, then the addition of the visor, but it ended up pulling focus from his interactions with the kids and his non-interactions with Three.

also i think there's something more unsettling in one offhanded sentence about a single surgery that he experienced multiple times from all possible perspectives rather than describing the process in detail

[lizardkingeliot]

Taking an enormous amount of psychic damage in the Meijer produce department as the entire second half of my current loustat wip comes to me all at once

[doodlepet]

Heheheheh guess who’s back in that lotr mindset >:3

But first and most importantly... Can I remember how to draw my boys??

[doom-dreaming]

I know he's supposed to be pretty intimidating given his status but idkk John is kind of adorable. His small tooth gap he's had since he was a kid. The freckles on his face and possibly shoulders. How could I be even slightly scared of him. Look At Him. He's cute. Do you think at one point he smiled barely showing his teeth but enough for cortana to see his gap and do you think she felt just a little warmer at her core

Maybe that's why he's so reluctant to take the helmet off. The "human battering ram" reputation gets shot to pieces once everyone gets a look at those freckles and beautiful baby blues.

Jokes aside, I do like artistic interpretations of him that keep these features. I can understand how, realistically, the tooth gap may have disappeared once his baby teeth fell out or he lost the freckles he had as a kid, but I think keeping them into his adulthood is more fun. (And don't even get me started on shoulder freckles. Oh my god. Yes please.)

Also. Please accept this humble reimagining of that part in The Fall of Reach where Cortana finds out the truth about the S-II program. Now with 80% more (subtle) Johntana (because let's be honest, it was already kind of there. Thank you Eric Nylund.)

**********

Most of her processing attention is focused on the Pillar of Autumn. She doesn't need much to look at the Master Chief's full CSV - though she does mull over it more slowly than she'd downloaded it. Everything was the same as the public, polished version up until...oh. Interesting. She'd known the Master Chief, and the other Spartans, had been enhanced to perform far beyond the normal scope of human capability, but this...

Ever-curious but starting to feel a peculiar tightening within her code - some sort of...apprehension, maybe? - she pores over the grisly details of the operation. Growth hormones, muscle injections, bone reinforcements, literal brain surgery...and all at just fourteen years of age.

She pauses and turns this fraction of her attention away from the file, to the Autumn's C-deck. Twenty-five Spartans busy themselves with weapon maintenance, unpacking supplies, sparring. She scans the room, studying the details of each Mjolnir-clad superhuman body, near-identical apart from their mannerisms and the numbers on their chestplates. There he is. 117. She watches for a moment while he takes apart his rifle, inspects it, and reassembles it - all with confident, practiced motions.

She wants to be in tandem with him again, in that liminal space between the protective shell of his Mjolnir and his quick mind. Easy, Cortana, she chides herself. Yesterday's training exercise, as nerve-wracking and exhilarating as it'd been, had taken a toll on him. He needed the rest. And she had a file to finish.

Before the augmentations, they'd spent years training and studying, often under brutal conditions. Especially for... Her attention drifts to the next section of the file, where a picture is attached - a simple headshot of a young boy. His brown hair is tousled, as if he'd been forced to stop playing specifically to look at the camera. Sharp, intelligent blue eyes stare back at her. A scatter of freckles adorn his cheekbones like small constellations. He's smiling, but there's something rambunctious about the expression, a barely-contained mischief hiding in the quirk of his lips and the small gap between his front teeth. He looked...happy. Like a six-year-old should.

If her avatar had been visible, she would've frowned. He'd been kidnapped, taken from his family, and replaced with a flash clone. They, none the wiser, must've assumed their little boy died some weeks or months later, as flash clones inevitably did. She wasn't sure if the truth was any kinder a reality.

And Halsey had authorized every bit of it. Her processing drifts aimlessly for several cycles as she tries to comprehend the dissonance. Halsey cared so much for them, how could she have...? It was necessary, Cortana reasons. The fate of humanity rests on their shoulders. But a quieter part of her suggests that maybe the doctor's concern for her Spartans came from a place of guilt.

Snapping the wandering threads of her consciousness back to her core, she deletes the stolen files and turns her attention once more to C-deck. The Master Chief, immersed in a conversation with a few of the other Spartans, had taken off his helmet and set it on the bench beside him. Someone cracks a joke and the Chief flashes a quick smile. He's a fully-grown man now, obviously, but for a second, Cortana can see a six-year-old boy; in the gap that had stayed between his front teeth, in the freckles splashed over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, in the way his eyes - even sharper now - glint with mischief.

"Whatever the Master Chief had been through in the past...it was done. He was in her care now. She would do everything in her power - short of compromising the mission - to make sure nothing ever happened to him again."

[compacflt]

uhhh i don’t know how this works, but, in case i haven’t specified, my writing requests are open! idk, send me an ask, idk, i literally don’t know, and it DOES NOT have to be in my specific AU, im down for anything!!! I have some more free time now & this is a good exercise!! if u want me to write stuff, 🫡 here i am!*

* no promises i get to ur ask. But I will try my best.

[blackknight-kai]

SW x reader (fluff)

Where reader is kinda a homebody?, enjoys doing the chores and cooking Kinda like a stay at home wife type dynamic! (P.S. I love your writing!!! You feed the fandom I swear, you deserve more recognition!, and if you take this request thank you a million times over!)

Forgive me this isn’t a full fic but I have thoughts on this scenario.

First off, you being home all the time? Yeah Wukong is down with that. I think it would feed a sense of “protection” and “provide” thing for him. He’d bring you stuff all the time be it food to cook or things he finds that you might like.

He would also like knowing exactly where you are at all times. No chance of you getting into trouble or hurt while he’s off doing Wukong shenanigans. Although he might drag your ass along with him sometimes because he does like having you with him.

Coming home to a clean house, clean laundry, and fresh cooked meals? OH BOY IS THIS KING LIVING! He loves that! It makes him feel the King he is, not that you HAVE to do those things he’d have someone do it in a heartbeat if you said you didn’t want to anymore. But to have you providing things for him?? Hoooo! That tickles his fur. Especially after long days of beating up bad guys, causing chaos wherever he goes, and protecting what is his/who needs it.

Essentially you are home. Comfort. Warmth. And so him coming home from the never ending needy world to you just being THERE, thinking about making him dinner to make sure he eats before bed or making sure his clothes aren’t matted with dirt and blood, it really really soothes some ache deep inside him he didn’t know he had, someone taking care of him (although good luck getting him to admit that).

When he steps into your shared home all he has to do is be Wukong, not anyone else, just him. And if he’s tired? Or if he’s playful? Or if he’s quiet? You’re there right where he knows you’ll be.

He loves the little things you tell him about your day, what you did or saw. Or if you’d picked up a new hobby or discovered something. Being with you is like a relaxant, a balm for his soul, and he’s happy to share in your daily routine.

The thing that really gets him is you feel safe enough thanks to him to live your life as you want. No longer worrying about possible dangers or when you might eat next. Now you can feel the true comforts of home and enjoy the quiet (mostly because it’s Wukong…) life. And it’s because of HIM. He gets to see you be happy and he will continue to make is so, especially if he can snuggle into clean bed sheets and eat your tasty food all day every day for the rest of eternity and never stop smiling at him as soon as he walks in the door.

[keferon]

Howdy!

I think your Monster Hunter AU is really cool and I wanted to know if you’d be cool if I tried to write something in the universe? (Specifically about Prowl haha, I saw him once and thought 👀 “man i wonder if tarantulas was in this au how spooky he’d be given he’s spooky enough in canon”)

Would also love to know your thoughts/if you had any of what Prowl could be up to, I know the au is Lost Light focused so I totally get it if you don’t have any/etc.

Hope you have a good day! Love your art!

Hoooo boy okay okay. Prowl.

He's a Golem created by Orion.

In mythology, Golems are essentially living statues made of clay mixed with blood and animated by magic. They are stupid and exist for primitive manual labor.

In my universe, a Golem is basically the same thing, but made of metal.

Orion assembled his golem from empty armor, parts stolen from the medbay, and his own energon. And then he went and got a Wisdom artifact and put it in the golem's head, because the rules strictly forbid giving golems internal organs like sparks or processors.

As a result, the golem was very light because it was essentially empty inside, so even when it moved it did so very quietly for a mech its size. Orion had been startled the first fifteen times the golem would appear completely silent beside him. On the sixteenth time, he called the golem Prowl.

Prowl is basically not a real mech. He has no spark, he has no need to eat or sleep. His only and primary task is to serve Orion. Thanks to the artifact, he is freakishly intelligent, not only compared to normal golems, but to normal mechs as well.

Orion keeps his origin a secret from everyone except Ratchet and Shockwave (because Shockwave was the one who taught him how to create golems), so all the mechs in the Order are convinced that Prowl is just Orion's very tedious assistant, not...you know...a walking puppet who has incredible intellectual abilities, but almost no emotions or conscience:)

[flower-boi16]

Why Stolitz is Helluva Boss's Worst Plotline

I don't know how to start this post so I'll just get to the point; Stolitz sucks complete ass and is the worst part of the show. It used to be interesting in season 1 but no longer in season 2, here's why.

1. Stolitz in season 1 (and why it worked)

Let's establish the reason why Stolitz worked in season 1. As we all know, Stolitz is a toxic relationship, it always has been. Stolas only wanted to sleep with Blitz and nothing else, to get all sexual with him and stuff....

And that's why it worked, Stolitz was in an intentionally toxic relationship, and the show treated it as such as seen in Ozzie's, where Blitz tells Stolas he doesn't want to sleep with him anymore. This was an interesting conflict and a lot of people were excited to see where season 2 would take Stolitz going forward after this. How was it going to resolve this conflict? There was a lot of potential...that season 2 has completely destroyed.

2. The Circus Ruins Everything (and here's why)

Now we move onto the season 2 premiere, The Circus, and hooo boy this is where the problems with this relationship begin to show themselves, as we encounter the first problem with Stolitz; Viv trying to retcon her way out of making Stolitz not toxic. The Circus makes the bizarre writing choice of making Blitz and Stolas childhood friends...

This writing decision sucks ass, here's why. Ok, first of all, let's get this out of the way first; this is a retcon. Stolas and Blitz being childhood friends and Stolas loving Blitz all along does not at all line up with any of their interactions throughout season 1, the point of their relationship in season 1 was that Stolas was the only part of Blitzo that Stolas was interested in was his dick and nothing else, this ignores that in favor of painting Blitz and Stolas as UwU childhood friends while forgetting all of their interactions in season 1.

Second of all, it's entirely unnecessary. Nothing about Blitz and Stolas's dynamic changes if you remove this and just have them fall in love as adults. Third, as a previous anon had already pointed out, making Blitz and Stolas childhood friends actually makes Stolas look worse because he's treating his childhood friend like a sex toy rather than a person. We'll get to this later but a major problem with Stolitz is the fact that the show tries to portray Stolas as the UwU sad soft boy victim and ignore how he treats Blitz in favor of making him and UwU soft boy.

The Circus is merely the beginning of that; the show is now starting to try and retcon its way out of making Stolitz not toxic by portraying as a UwU sweet childhood friendship all the while forgetting the actual point of the relationship to begin with. Don't worry, because hoooo boy let's talk about the next problem with Stolitz in season 2 that being...

3. The Feud in Ozzies (and its resolution)

So y'all would know that Stolas and Blitz had a fight at the end of Ozzies, right? Well this is where we enter the second problem with Stolitz; the events of Ozzie's go completely ignored. The next time Blitz and Stolas have an onscreen interaction is the second episode of season 2, Seeing Stars (Aka the only decent episode in this whole season). The two interact and...they just go along like nothing happened. As if they didn't have an argument at the end of season 1. People clearly noticed this and were confused as to why these two were just playing along as if the events of Ozzie's never happened...

Well guess what, episode 4, Western Energy, actually resolves the conflict the two had... off-screen...with a blink and you'll miss it text message. This was the moment I had officially lost my patience with this stupid season. It's just SO damn insulting. So you wanted to see where they could take this plotline after Ozzie's? How could Blitz and Stolas develop and resolve their conflict? Hehe well too fucking bad how about we just pretend that didn't happen and then resolve it with a fucking text message.

This is such a lazy and underwhelming way to resolve a conflict, it feels like Viv didn't know where to take Stolitz after season 1 so she just decided to give their feud an underwhelming resolution that unless you directly pause you would miss. So, the feud Blitz and Stolas had at the end of Ozzie's is completely forgotten about and then resolved off-screen, so fuck you to anybody who was excited to see where they went with this plot line I guess. Now that we have that out of the way...let's talk about the next problem with Stolitz;

4. Blitz's demonization

So season 1 ended with Blitz making it crystal clear to Stolas that he is deeply upset about their relationship only being about having sex with each other, so it's very clear that given how Stolas has been acting towards Blitz, he is the victim and Stolas is the abuser, so, therefore, Blitz is in the right for not loving Stolas given their interactions with each other throughout the whole season...

Ya well watch as season 2 just completely ignores that and tries to paint Blitz as the one in the wrong for not loving Stolas. This is where we enter the next problem with Stolas; treating Blitz as if he is in the wrong for not loving Stolas (or not believing that Stolas does genuinely love him). Stolas has been treating Blitz as nothing but a sex toy throughout all of season 1 and yet the show wants us to believe that BLITZ is in the wrong here??

Episode 6 Oops is where this problem really shows itself. I already ranted about this episode before, however the cage scene where Blitz and Fizz talk about their sex life is indicative of Viv trying to make Blitz look like the bad guy because Stolas did some nice things for him... off-screen. Talk about telling instead of showing. Like I said in that post, it feels like a retcon; we never saw Stolas do any of these nice things for Blitz and that doesn't even line up with his behavior in season 1.

It's also just...lazy. Viv couldn't be bothered to actually SHOW Stolas doing these nice things for Blitz so she just TELLS us that Stolas did all of these things for him so Blitz could look bad. However, it falls flat because once again, it's told to us, not shown. AND EVEN IF we accept that Stolas did do all of these nice things for Blitz, THAT STILL DOESN'T EXCUSE HIS TREATMENT OF HIM!!!

So the show wants us to see Blitz as the bad guy for the crime of not loving Stolas because he treated him like a toy rather than a person, but Blitz is NOT in the wrong for acting this way at all yet the show paints him as the bad guy anyway. The show is basically saying that a victim is in the wrong for getting mad at their abuser for abusing them.

"But Blitz took advantage of his childhood friend!" Yes, Blitz was an asshole, but so was Stolas, yet the show acts as if Blitz is 100% the bad guy and Stolas is 100% an innocent soft boy. Speaking of Stolas...

5. Stolas is terrible

So Stolas is terrible, plain and simple. He is very toxic and abusive to Blitz as I've already gone over. However, for some reason, rather than framing Stolas as the abuser he is, Season 2 opts to instead frame him as an UwU soft boy who supposedly did nothing wrong. This is less of a problem with Stolitz and more with Stolas's character as a whole; the show portrays Stolas as an UwU sad Owl boy and we're supposed to sympathize with him despite him not being a great person.

And Stolitz is where this issue shows itself the most. Season 2 never portrays Stolas as in the wrong for how he treated Blitz in Season 1, instead trying woobify him and simply turning around and saying "oh Stolas just wants a friend! He genuinely does love Blitz! Why doesn't Blitz love him back?!". We clearly are not supposed to see Stolas as the abuser here, however, no matter how you slice it Stolas IS the abuser in this relationship.

And so far the show has never made him apologize to Blitz for how he treated him nor has it tried to make him better himself for Blitz. And it seems like Viv has tried to make Stolas look better in episode 6 with the scene where Blitz says that Stolas did all these nice things for him, but once again it's ineffective because it was off-screen. And once again the decision to make him and Blitz childhood friends ties directly back into this because as I've already said, it makes Stolas look far worse because he's treating his own childhood friend like a sex toy, despite how much the show wants to convince us that Stolas is just an UwU soft boy who did nothing wrong and just wants a friend, and no matter how much the show will demonize Blitz, I can not feel bad for Stolas because he's the abuser, not Blitz.

Stolas is just incredibly unlikeable and hard to sympathize with, especially when it comes to this relationship. "But Stolas genuinely loves Blitz!"- putting aside the fact that was also a retcon, even if Stolas genuinely loves Blitz, that doesn't somehow mean that how Stolas treats Blitz is ok. Despite how much the show wants us to convince us that Blitz is the bad guy here and Stolas is just a victim, Stolas is an abuser, there is absolutely NO denying it.

But what if I told you there is a piece of HB content that exemplifies this issue the most? Well...I promised y'all I'd analyze this video so...without further ado...

6. Let's Tear Apart the "Just Look My Way" music video

The second I finished watching this music video, I KNEW that I had to talk about it in this post. Why exactly? Well aside from it being the worst piece of HB content I have ever seen, it's also...a stolitz song. It shows off the issue of Stolas being woobified in season 2 greatly. In this section, I'm going to analyze the lyrics in the song while explaining why this song is the culmination of my biggest issues with this stupid ship. This entire song is about Stolas singing about how sad he is that Blitzy doesn't love him 🥺, and it is SO telling that this is the message the song is going for given the lyrics like this:

"Let me hold you, keep you close to me I long to hear your voice"

"I don't care that you're of lower station Or primed to sate my dark temptations Why can't you understand? Let me explain!"

These lyrics scream "Blitzy why don't you love me!!!". But that's contrasted by lyrics like...this;

"But dearest, I know better now I must give you this choice"

"I will try to make amends For making you means to an end So, look my way, please, look my way"

This actually sounds like Stolas apologizing to Blitz for how he treated him, which is exactly what I wanted...but the rest of the lyrics are just Stolas saying "Blitzy why don't you love me!!!". It's once again choosing to victimize Stolas rather than actually framing him as the abuser he is. This entire song is the most melodramatic emotionally manipulative shit I've ever seen, it once again portrays Stolas as an UwU soft boy who did nothing wrong and just wants someone to love him.

"But Viv didn't write the lyrics!" For those who don't know, Just Look My Way was a fan song that Viv and her team decided to animate as well as make Stolas's voice actor sing. And yes, Viv did not write this song, a fan did, however my issue is that within the context of the rest of the show up until this point, these lyrics do not do any favors for this ship. And I feel like Viv chose this specific song just so she could make Stolas look like a UwU soft boy again. There's also the fact that Viv changed some of the lyrics as well, removing the little impish plaything line and the one talking about Octavia.

This could be done to make the song closer to canon...but there's also a possibility that Viv did this so she could NOT acknowledge Stolas's actual faults and make the song entirely about Stolitz. This post summed it up pretty well.

So conclusion; Just Look My Way is an awful music video that is horrifically bad when It comes to the context of this relationship and once again tries to make Stolas look sympathetic when he really isn't. This is not how you make a sympathetic character guys. Now let's talk about the final issue with Stolitz...

7. It's Just Plain Toxic

This is the biggest reason why I (and many other critics) dislike Stolitz; it's just plain toxic. It's a toxic ass ship where the abuser is portrayed as the victim while the victim is framed as the abuser, and where the abuser has never gone to better himself for the victim, yet the show wants us to root for this couple to get together for some reason despite that. The show constantly paints this an UwU cute childhood friendship when it's anything BUT that in reality. It's toxic, plain and simple.

8. Conclusion

Look, if you like or ship Stolitz, that's fine, I didn't make this post because I wanted people to stop shipping it. I made this post because I believe Stolitz is easily the worst part of the show, it's a horribly written toxic and abusive romance that we are supposed to root for and the fact that people DEFEND this ship despite it being OBJECTIVELY toxic and unhealthy is baffling to me.

So ya, that's why I hate Stolitz...bye.

[tofics]

Broken - Chapter 5

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: A year has passed since Joel and Ellie have returned to Jackson when he finds you on patrol, half frozen and half burning up. Jackson takes you in and nurses you back to health, welcoming you as the newest member of their community. The more time passes, Joel realizes that you and him have more in common than he likes… Until one day, everything changes and you get a gift that he’ll never get.

Word Count: 6472 words

Warnings: feelings of shame, mention of child death, developing feelings and the uncertainty that comes with that, crying, cuddling, and, at long last, fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

A/N: Brace yourselves, for this is the quiet that comes before the storm. This was so hard to write because the pain of the reader and Joel stands so much at the forefront and going into lighter, happier feelings beyond that requires such a drastic mindset change 😮‍💨 I'm pretty satisfied with the outcome though. I hope you enjoy! And, remember, come Friday, Aug. 16th, we're back on a regular posting schedule! 😊

Chapter 5 - New Leafs and Old Foes

"Hoooo, eaaaasy there girl, easy." The mare neighs nervously and raises on its hindlegs. You stop your movement, but don't retreat, instead digging your heels deeper into the mud. Opposite of you, Savannah, the stable's keeper, is mirroring your moves, struggling to stay upright in the slick mud as she tugs on the mare's reins. The animal comes down with a thump and sprays the both of you with specks of sludge as she neighs again, her panicked eyes flicking back and forth between you and your helper.

"Easy now, girl, easy." The calmness of your voice finally seems to register with the panicked animal when her eyes flit back to you and lock on you. Her nostrils flare and she shifts on her legs uneasily, but her hoofs remain on the ground. You gonna work with me, girl? You convey the question with your eyes, a silent exchange between the two of you. It takes a moment, but eventually you notice the horse's body language shift - the 'yes' you were waiting for.

The animal is still panting, but she allows your touch when you run your flat hand over her strong neck. "Atta girl." She snorts in response to your whispered soothing appraisals and you can't help but smile.

"What are you, the horse whisperer or something?" Savannah carefully slips the reins into your hand with a big grin.

"Call me Robert Redford, sweetheart." You tip your imaginary cowboy hat in her direction with a wink.

"Phew, she ain't half bad, hu?" Tommy whistles through his teeth and you turn at the sound, giving the two brothers a small smile and wave in response.

Joel just grunts, but smiles back at you with a nod of his head.

"Don't think I don't saw that." Tommys voice matches the foolish grin on his face.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about. Ain't nothing to see." Joel clicks his tongue and leads his horse into the stable, away from the paddock where your little show took place. Once they're inside his stallion's box, he takes off the saddle and the halter, placing both on their respective mounts in the stable.

"Hey, no shame in fallin' in love, brother." Tommy's voice drifts over from the box next to Joel's. "After all," - his head pops up over the barrier, plastered with the same silly grin as before - "wouldn't dream of judgin' you when I'm guilty of the same crime." He sticks his left hand in the air and pointedly twirls the golden band on his ring finger.

Joel snorts but doesn't shoot back. Instead he heads back outside into the fresh spring air. It's one of those days that make it look like summer, all sparkling blue sky dotted with fleecy clouds and warm sunshine, but set one foot into a shadowy area and you're back in winter, with wind that's still got a sharp bite to it and temperatures that'll have your teeth chattering.

Joel tugs his on the collar of his jacket as he approaches the paddock's fencing, trying to shield himself from the chilly breeze that blows past the stable's shadowy entrance. It won't take more than an hour, but for now, only one half of the paddock is glistening in the sun, the trampled mud and sludge sparkling in the warm rays where the rain water has collected in little pools.

"C'mon, baby, c'mon. That's it. Atta girl." Your voice dances through the air and Joel watches the latest addition to the stable trot alongside you with ease, the panic of just a few minutes ago seemingly forgotten. It doesn't surprise him in the least. Your lures are so sweet, not only by word but by sound, delivered in a soft and light trill that could fit right in with the chirps of the birds that are coming out more and more each day. 'Talk to me like that, and I'd follow you anywhere too,' he thinks and feels the immediate internal backlash.

For fuck's sake. Get it together.

Of course Joel knows what Tommy's talking about. He's caught himself in moments like these one too many times not to know. That doesn't mean he has to admit it, though. Nor does he have to like it.

It's been a long time since anyone stirred something inside of him the way you do. There was Tess - she and him had been partners, both in business and in bed, but there had been nothing romantic about it. What he had with her was different, more down-to-the-point oriented. In business terms, it was a perfect match. She was the social baseline to their partnership, yet no less ruthless than Joel. He sometimes admired her for it, how she held on to that part of herself that made her more human. He lost touch with that side of him for years and had no interest in rebuilding it, not until he met Ellie anyway. She's softened him and brought him back to life in ways he didn't think were possible anymore.

So perhaps it shouldn't be that big of a surprise that you do something to him. And you have, from the start. Joel's not one to care for other people's business unless it's somehow related to him, and yet, he has found himself wondering about you time and time again. You mostly keep to yourself, but you're amazing with Ellie. You seem to share his love for silence, but you can easily talk his ear off if he gets you going on the right topic.

But more than that - and perhaps, most importantly so - he sees something in you that reminds him of himself, in the most painful way. He can see you trying to hide it around Ellie, but your occasional shut-downs never go undetected by him. Thankfully, you haven't had any meltdowns since that one time, but there are smaller signs of when you retreat somewhere into the back of your mind. The smile on your face becomes less genuine, like a cheap knock-off version of the real deal. Your eyes cloud over and lose the vibrancy they usually shine with. And sometimes, your arm wanders over your chest and digs into your other arm, like you're trying with all your might to hold yourself together.

Those moments are the worst for you, as far as he can tell. He's found himself wanting to reach over and gently losen the grip you have on your arm, to hold your hand and let it squeeze him instead, but of course he doesn't. Joel doesn't think it's his place, or if you'd even want him to. He never asks. He doesn't know how. And it's pissing him off.

He feels like a goddamn teenager all over again, and those years are well behind him. Hell, he's currently got a teenager at home, he's got no business acting the way he does. But it's just like it was back then, all those years ago. You come into his proximity and boom. It's like he's on fire. His palms break out into a sweat and his heart is hammering in his chest. It's pathetic, the way your sheer presence sometimes reduces him to a sixteen year old hormonal boy, when his real age is twice that and then some.

Worse than that, despite being thrice the age of a teenager, he's apparently about as good at hiding his crush as he was back then. Thankfully, Ellie hasn't caught on to it - yet, she likely wouldn't let him hear the end of it - and as far as he can tell, neither have you, but Maria keeps looking at him funny and this isn't Tommy's first comment regarding you either. Leave it to his brother to rat him out to his wife.

Flipping his collar back down, Joel exposes his neck to the chilled air around him in hopes of it having the same effect as a cold shower. Lord knows he could need one.

You feel Joel‘s gaze on you before you spot him leaning against the fence, looking better than he should be allowed to. A faint memory of some women’s magazine’s article pops up in the back of your head, something about how the entirety of an outfit should never consist of just jeans, and yet you couldn’t disagree more. Dressed in a lined denim jacket and a pair of pants made of the same fabric, he looks more like a catalogue model than a failed fashion ensemble. The cowboy hat he's been wearing lately sits on his salt and pepper hair, rounding off the ensemble like a cherry on top.

"Howdy, partner," you call out and watch with satisfaction as a small smile plays out on Joel's face. He tries to hide it in the same way he often pretends not to be amused by Ellie's jokes, pushing his bottom lip out and biting down on it from the inside. Clearly he's unaware of how little it's working, or how terribly adorable he looks doing it.

"Mornin'," he replies when you've almost reached the fence, the remnants of his hidden smile still visible in the twitching corners of his mouth.

The mare behind you snorts uneasily and you take a step back to softly pat her neck, but your eyes stay on Joel. "Patrol all done?"

"Mh-hmm. Haven't seen you on patrol in a while." The way he says it, it sounds like an unspoken question, and you understand why.

When you had begged Maria to take you off patrol, she had agreed instantly, probably persuaded (and somewhat concerned) by the cascade of tears running down your face. "Did something happen?," she had asked, the question loaded with the unspoken add-on of 'with Joel' and you just shook your head no, a wordless workaround for the very lengthy real answer you didn't have the strength to give, nor had the right words for. After all, how could you explain that what had brought you to her doorstep wasn't a miss-step on Joel's side, but a melt-down on yours and the subsequent overwhelming shame of Joel not only having been a witness, but the one to have helped you through it? A 'no' was just so much easier, and even though Maria didn't look like she fully believed you, she took you off patrol and gave you the day off, with the reminder that you could come talk to her about anything, anytime.

The next morning, you were back on Tommy and Maria's doorstep, asking if you could be placed with livestock care instead. You were nowhere nearly fully-recovered, but shame and worry had driven you out of your house and back to theirs. You weren't gonna be a leech, living off of other people's hard work. No matter how low you felt, you were determined to contribute to this community - preferably somewhere that wasn't right next to Joel. Tommy was eyeing you suspiciously, concern written all over his face, and a vague memory of him showing up behind Joel's house while you were 'chopping firewood' popped into the back of your head. The blood rushed to your head and painted you a deep shade of red, but you withstood his gaze regardless. Not a day later, you started at the stables. You haven't been back to patrol since.

"Remember how you said you thought I would be working with the animals, given my background on a farm? Well, turns out you were on to something. I didn't know how much I missed it until I was right back in it." You smile at him and try to ignore the feeling of guilt that's trying to take hold in your stomach. Even though you know you don't 'owe' Joel an explanation, the last thing you want is for him to be thinking you're avoiding him.

Especially if the opposite is true.

You're thriving in your new job placement, there's no denying that. You can't even really take credit for the idea either - it was simply the first thing you could think of in the heat of the moment, a fluke, really, but in a weird, cosmical-fate-kind-of-way, it looks like your abrupt change of profession has landed you exactly where you need to be. The work has a sense of familiarity about it that - for once (miraculously) - doesn't bring about pain. Instead, the smell of hay and manure takes you back to your childhood farm's stables, and so many of your daily tasks come naturally to you, your hands seemingly moving on their own accord through muscle memory. Sure, it's far more labor-intensive than any of your patrols have been and a lot smellier - most days, you come home covered in tiny flakes of straw and various spots of god-knows-what on your clothing, reeking of manure, wool and hay, but you don't mind. Somehow, feeling the day's work in your bones and carrying the evidence of your labor on your clothes helps you feel a sense of achievement at the end of a day, something that you didn't have on your patrols. On top of that, the body-intensive work seems to be a tremendous help with your insomnia: more often now than not, it takes you a lot less time to fall asleep. From all of your job's perks, this might just be your personal favorite.

There is only one downside to your new work arrangement, and ironically, it's the very reason you ditched patrols in the first place:

You don't get to see Joel as much as you did before.

You only managed to avoid him for a couple of days after the 'incident' before he tracked you down and set you right. It hadn't been enough time to properly work through the aftermath of your meltdown, so even though he made a point of saying you had nothing to be embarrassed about, shame and guilt stayed glued to you for days, despite your various tries to rid yourself of them. They were most present when he was present, a walking and talking reminder of who you'd bared your insides to in one of your weakest moments, and you found it easier to work through your feelings when Joel wasn't around. Your new job came in quite handy that way.

And then of course, there was that kiss on your forehead that you kept and keep thinking about, no matter how much you try not to. It added to the pile of feelings you had to sort through, spicing up the mix by adding very conflicting emotions.

On one hand, thinking back to the gentle gesture makes something tiny flutter in your belly, a sensation you're not sure you've ever truly felt before. Sure, there have been men in your life, but most of these arrangements were just that, arrangements, a means-to-an-end, an offering of yourself in exchange for safety or food. By some miracle, your life in Jackson has no need for arrangements like that. You still have your doubts about your safety, although that's more of a general concern that applies to the safety of Jackson as a whole, rather than concerns in regards to specific members of Jackson. Men are no longer a double-edged sword that can provide safety or be what you need protecting from, they're suddenly an option. It's a concept that is entirely new to you and that you weren't thinking about in the least, until that goddamn kiss on your forehead.

That kiss has opened up a world of possibilities you never previously had the luxury of even thinking about, and now, you can't stop thinking about it. It's come to a point where you only have to be in Joel's proximity to feel that tiny flutter in your belly. It's both delightful and entirely terrifying, so much so that you find yourself in a constant, sometimes overlapping loop of wanting to be close to Joel and wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

"Yeah well, I get it. Might've won against one horse, but an entire farm's worth of livestock? I can't compete with that." There's a glint in Joel's eyes, a small playful twinkle that creases the corners of his eyes and tugs on his lips and you can't help but laugh.

"Oh, don't sell yourself short now. You could've taken on two horses easily, maybe even three. It's the cows that are my weak-spot. You never stood a chance against those."

Joel's hand dramatically clutches at his chest as if you just delivered a blow to it. "Oof. Did what I could, though. Gotta know when to quit."

There it is again, that little flutter in your belly as you giggle and hit his arm playfully. It warms your belly and sends warmth up into your nose, your cheeks and your ears, even your hands and fingers. The skin that touched his jacket on impact is tingling and you suddenly have the strange urge to lay a hand on the jeans material again, though this time more softly and not in a rushed smack.

The impulse is so bizarre to you that you quickly withdraw your hand and tighten your clutch on the reins again. "Better get this lady inside her box. She's had quite the eventful morning."

The town hall is already bustling when you arrive. Although town meetings are open to everyone in Jackson, attendance isn't required unless you've been summoned, so the audience usually consists of Jackson's adults, with just a few of the kids and teens here and there.

Tonight is no different. As expected, quite a few seats are already occupied, but some of the backrows still have some free spots. Just when you choose one - close to the aisle, and, conveniently, close to the back exit - Evelyn claps her hands together. "Okay, let's get started, everyone." Just like any good classroom back in the day, everyone quiets down quickly until you can only hear the occasional foot shuffle or coughing.

"Thank you. I hereby declare this town meeting open. Gary, it's your turn." Evelyn takes her seat in the half-circle that's positioned so it faces the crowd and motions towards one of her neighbors.

Town meetings always follow the same structure. Someone on the council opens the meeting by giving an overview of the last month. This includes all kinds of stats: how that month's harvest went, animal count, town incidents (if any took place) or patrol reports about infected sightings or run-ins with raiders. Presumably, this is also the segment in which they provided updates about your health, back when you first arrived in Jackson. As far as journalism goes, this is the closest to a news source that Jackson has.

The news segment is followed by the 'open floor'. For this part, people can bring forward their nuisances that they were unable to resolve on their own. Just like the town meeting itself, this segment is open to every inhabitant of the town, council members included. You have yet to see a serious issue be brought up for this segment, but that speaks for the town's conflict management. Most people hash it out between themselves, and if anything does land in front of the council, it's typically something small or petty, like a drunken dispute or a missed shift.

The last item on the agenda tends to be the most interesting one: pending tasks, jobs and missions.

As with any town, small tasks and jobs can come up that are out-of-the-ordinary or temporary, yet no less urgent or to be overlooked. According to Joel, this is where they sometimes offer special rewards, depending on the appeal of the task. So far, there has been nothing in this segment that's caught your attention, but this part always has you on high alert.

You lean forward in anticipation as Tommy reads out a few smaller tasks that need to be taken care of, waiting for a good catch for yourself.

Surprisingly, you don't have to wait very long.

Joel's not a huge fan of town meetings. They tend to bore him, but he attends them anyway, mostly for Tommy and Maria and because it's good to get updates about the town once in a while. For today's meeting, there might have been the additional motivational factor of you being there, but he tries not to think about that too much.

Joel comes in as one of the last people. Most seats are already taken, but he doesn't mind, preferring to stand anyway.

Although you sit with your back to him, he spots you almost instantly, the backside of you standing out to him as if someone's casting a spotlight on you.

The meeting drones on, and Joel only half listens as he's leaning against one of the wooden pillars. His eyes wander across the room periodically, taking in Jackson's people as they react to news and chatter amongst themselves occasionally. It's a good way to get a read of the room, a habit he picked up in Boston and hasn't been able to shake yet. Despite Jackson being relatively safe, he still feels the need to get a feel for the current mood of Jackson's inhabitants. Never know when things might turn sour.

There's no denial about where his eyes wander most frequently. Every time he catches himself, he averts his gaze and hopes you don't feel him staring holes into the back of your head, just to repeat the process a couple of minutes later. You seem pretty relaxed, judging by your body language, until it's Tommy's turn to announce upcoming tasks and missions. He might have missed if you weren't secretly the center of his attention, but he immediately catches the way you lean forward when Tommy begins to speak.

"As Gary mentioned, one of our cows passed away at the start of the month. We knew it was coming and we hoped she'd pull through the winter, and bless that girl, she did. Still, we're one cow short now, and that just won't do. We'd like to put together a crew of at least two people to scour the nearby towns and places we last knew to hold some cows, see if any of them are still there. Any takers?"

To Joel's surprise, your hand flies up almost instantly.

Adding to his surprise, he feels his own hand raising before he even knows what he's doing.

Tommy's mouth twitches as his eyes land on his big brother. "And it looks like we got two volunteers!" You turn around in your seat, following Tommy's gaze to somewhere behind yourself before your eyes lock with Joel's. Joel can see the surprise on your face and something else that he can't quite place, and for a second, he's worried he's overstepped. "Perfect. We'll hash the details out later in person." Tommy nods to you and then to Joel, still clearly trying to hide a smirk behind quivering lips. "Okay, moving on. Angelo's caught a cold, so we need someone to take over his shift at the school..."

Tommy's voice fades into the background. Your eyes are still locked on Joel's, the same unreadable expression on your face.

Done messed up now, Joel thinks and has the urge to bang his head against the wooden pillar he's leaning on.

But just then - miraculously - you smile.

Tommy keeps his instructions brief: checkout all last known cow-locations and only bring one back if the circumstances allow for it. You are not to risk your life for that of a cow.

He spends more time repeating that last clause than he does going over the initial plan.

"Do you have a history of saving cows or something?," you ask Joel on your way to the supplies shelter. He responds with something of a chuckle and a scoff.

"Just saying, sounded like he was particularly worried about you risking your life for a cow, of all things."

"Yeah? Who says that wasn't directed at you? Ain't me that's workin' in livestock after all." Joel looks at you with half a smile and you feel that little tingle in your belly respond immediately.

How am I going to survive an entire mission next to this man?, you think and feel the slightest pink seeping into your cheeks.

"Maybe, but he was looking at you the entire time. Am I gonna have to drag you out of there if we see a cow being attacked by infected? I'm just asking so I know what to expect, you know. To prepare."

His snort is paired with a slight eye-roll and you giggle like the little school-girl he makes you feel like.

Betsy gets the two of you sorted with all the supplies you could need. An assortment of ropes, fire-starting-kits, cans of food and a health-kit is already littered on the large table in the middle as she adds two small sleeping bags.

"Now Joel, I know you've been on runs before, so you know how this goes. Y'all can go over to the weapon's den and get whatever y'all fancy. This right here is to cover the survival aspect of it all." Betsy chatters along while she continues to pile supplies onto the table. "Y'all don't gotta take everythin' we hand out, but it's highly recommended that you do. I don't think I gotta say this, but whatever you use up is gone, so make sure you find spares unless you wanna be fresh out of somethin'. Wouldn't complain if you bring back a few extras of whatever I give you either, but it's not a must. I know what it's like out there. I'll just be glad when you two come home safe."

You nod along while you examine everything she puts out on to the table. This is worth gold. Everything you could think of is accounted for, and then some.

You can't help but think that some people out there would kill for a set-up like this. If people knew about Jackson...

"Okay, one more thing." Betsy walks into the adjoining room and returns with a packed up tent in her arms. "It ain't big, but I expect y'all won't mind that, 'specially with temperatures still droppin' below freezin' at night. I reckon y'all might wanna snuggle up, for warmth and all."

You feel the tips of your ears burning while the rest of your face hurries to catch on, coloring you a deep shade of red. Snuggle with Joel. Betsy might as well have suggested you could kiss for warmth with the way you feel about the suggestion. Awkward, definitely, but worse: excited.

Crap crap crap.

You discreetly glance sideways at Joel who appears to be looking anywhere at you, then becomes intensely interested in one of the backpacks Betsy is offering. It might be your imagination, but you could swear that Joel's ears look a lot more flushed than normally.

You start off into your mission early the next morning while it's still dark out. Tommy sees you off at the gate.

"Y'all got everything you need?"

The two of you nod.

"Good. Be back safe. Watch out for each other." Tommy gives a sign to the men manning the door and they crack it open just enough so you and Joel can slip through on your horses.

It's a misty morning and the damp cold seems to find every little hole in your clothing to seep through. Your breath comes out in puffy little white clouds and you thank yourself for having remembered your gloves.

Joel leads the way. Tommy had the route all mapped out for you already, although he agreed to alterations where needed. "The two of you have been out there long enough to know when to trust your gut. If anything feels off, feel free to adjust the route accordingly. Ain't no sense in sticking to a plan if it gets y'all killed," he'd said.

For now, you stick to his pre-planned route and head south-west. The first stop on your map, an old ranch called 'Spring Creek' is just two hours out.

Neither of you speak much during your ride there.

But instead of the awkward silence you were worried about, there's a mutual understanding of enjoyed silence between the two of you that you developed on your patrols together.

Spring Creek turns out to be a bust, which surprises neither of you. 'Lucky' is not really something that's in the cards anymore in this world, as you're both well aware of.

The next stop on the map is less than half an hour away, located not far of the bridge that leads over the Snake River. It's a gorgeous place, once a park and now entirely reclaimed by nature, with the first signs of game here and there, but not a cow in sight.

By the time evening rolls around, you've made it across the river and into what used to be Wilson. Supposedly, there's an old farm a little further out of town if you head west.

When Joel suggests that you save the ranch for the next day, you have no trouble agreeing considering how little daylight you have left. You let your horses trot along the highway until you reach the outskirts of town that's framed nicely by a small forest. Joel leads his horse off the road and onto the open field to where the grass meets the trees.

"Looks like pretty thick foliage. Ain't no getting through with these horses. I'd say we make camp out here. Foliage should have our backs covered nicely, and we got a clear view into each direction over the field. Whaddaya say?"

The light of your small fire dances across your face in the dark, flames leaping over your eyebrows and then cowering beneath your cheekbones, only to lick up the side of your skull in the next second.

Joel watches the fiery dance on your features and finds himself wishing he could be the one to caress your face instead of the flames, trailing your skin with the pads of his fingers the same way the light does.

Although the day's journey was uneventful, all of his senses are on high-alert. Your presence is like a steady hum in the back of his mind. It started out fine this morning, just the spark of excitement he's now used to getting when you come into his proximity. But it has progressed throughout the day, steadily gaining in size and momentum during the shared hours together. Whatever you do to him, it's pulling him towards you like a moth is drawn to the light. If you were a candle in the morning, by now, you shine as bright as the sun.

"Tell me somethin' about yourself," he hears himself say. You look up from the fire and meet his gaze, a lazy smile on your lips. "Like what?"

"Anythin'." Joel wants to know it all. You're the puzzle he can't piece together but can't put on a shelf either. He's tried, and not just once. He tried it after your first patrol together. He tried it after you became a steady guest in his house, bringing warmth and humor with you anytime you came. Joel stepped out of the fuzzy feeling you ignited in him every night, neatly folded it and put it on the shelf in the back of his mind where things go to be forgotten, only to find himself wearing it again the next time he saw you at the dining hall or at his kitchen table.

He can fool himself all he wants, but your presence brings out the truth in him regardless, no matter what he tells himself.

"That's a broad frame."

"I have a broad interest." In you. Joel doesn't add the words, but they hang in the air regardless, almost as bright and shiny as the fire between the two of you. Joel wonders whether you can see them as clearly as he can.

You smile again and fiddle with the zipper of your jacket while you think. "You already know most of it," you finally say and Joel almost calls out bullshit, because he doesn't, not by a longshot. His knowledge on you is filled with gaps, a cloze he desperately wants to fill.

"Then tell me something I don't know yet," he says instead. Questions are piling up on his tongue, but he's biting them down.

What is that sadness that fills you on some days?

and

Do you, God forbid, know the same loss I do?

He sees it mirrored in you, the desperation and soul-wrecking-pain that comes with the loss of a child. It leaves a special kind of imprint that never really goes away, just grows over a little bit, if you're lucky, but it's always still there. Joel's sure he sees it in you, that he recognizes your pain as his own and his heart breaks at the thought of it, of what he thinks you lost, of what he lost himself.

How can I ease your pain?

Will you let me ease your pain?

Joel watches you think again, trying hard to come up with something to tell him that won't reveal too much. He knows the look. He wore it himself for years, not letting anybody close enough to read between the lines.

"You know I had a kid?" Your head perks up and he can see your eyes growing wide in surprise, pupils large and dark.

"A daughter. Name's Sarah." He feels the sting in his chest that always comes out when he talks about her for the first time. It pierces his heart with the same relentless white hot pain, but his flesh is used to it and has adapted over the years. A thick lining of tissue has grown around the spot where the dagger pierces through his skin every time he opens his wound anew. It never truly heals, never hurts any less. It does, however, take less time for the pain to subside now.

Joel takes a few deep breaths as he waits for the pain in his chest to die down. He feels your eyes still trained on him and watching him closely.

"She died the day of the outbreak. A soldier... shot her." He has to press the words out so they don't get stuck in his throat and suffocate him.

A twig snaps and bursts and sends up a shower of sparks into the cold dark air. Joel stares into the fire and waits for the pain to subside as another dagger pierces his chest.

It takes a while for his words to sink in. They bob around of the surface of your consciousness, like paper ships freshly put on water. You watch as they slowly grow heavier and begin to sink, the full weight of his words hitting you more with each word that fills up and eventually sinks to the ground of your mind where you finally grasp their meaning.

He lost a child.

Suddenly it all makes sense.

The way he sometimes looks at you with a sense of understanding that you've never been able to place before.

The way he took care of you on the day of your outburst, no questions asked.

You and her, you got the same kind of twitchy. Tommy's voice echoes in your skull and your vision blurs.

You realize you're crying.

The tears spill out of your eyes before you can stop them, a testament of your own pain, understood in the most horrible way.

You cross the fire in two big strides and fall to your knees in front of Joel where you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his shoulder.

You hold him tight, hands digging into his jacket in an effort to pull him as close as possible, while your tears soak into his shoulder. And then his arms wrap around you in return, holding you with the same feverish intensity that you're holding him with.

"I am so, so sorry," you whisper against his jacket when your tears have dried up enough for you to speak. His answer comes in the form of a kiss on the top of your head, and despite the situation, a shower of warmth rains down your spine from where his lips met your hair.

"I wish I could've met her."

"I wish you could've met her too."

The longer you keep holding on to each other, the more the tenseness leaves your body. The pain lingers, a dull throbbing sensation in your chest that is just all too familiar, but your muscles slowly loosen and you begin to melt into his embrace.

It feels almost shameful, finding pleasure in something that was born out of something so gruesome.

Joel detects the way you slowly wind down and allows himself to run a thumb over your back in small circles.

He holds you and is held back in the dancing light of the fire under the stars until the fire burns down and wishes this would never end.

Maybe he's been through enough. Maybe he's finally endured enough pain for a lifetime, because for once, the universe grants him his wish, and it doesn't end.

When he feels you snaking out of his embrace, his heart drops, his body already missing your touch where it pressed against him, but before he can mourn the moment, you're extending a hand to him.

You lead him into the tent, and his head is spinning, swimming with possibilities that seem too faint and outrageous to even reach before you open up one of the sleeping bags and slip inside, motioning for him to join you.

It takes a moment, but eventually, your sleeping bags are joined up into one large one. Joel's a broad man and sleeping bags are a tight fit on him as is, but with you pressed against his side, he could be getting strangled to death for all he cares.

You settle against him with your head on his shoulder and one arm wrapped around his belly and Joel feels like he's dreaming. He has half a mind to voice his concerns - "What about taking watch?" - but then your finger touches his lips and he ascends to heaven, the first man to be alive and knocking on heaven's door at the same time. "Not a single soul around all day. We're good," you whisper and lay your hand against Joel's cheek, where you draw the same slow circles he drew on your back earlier.

Maybe Tommy's right, is the last thing Joel thinks before he falls asleep. Maybe there's no shame in falling in love.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

Tag list: @eternallyvenus @frogsdeservelovetoo @akisfoxdevil @southernbe @nutterbitter

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @orcasoul @foomoosworld @lilmizmoz @ashleyfilm

@casa-boiardi @sunandmuun @noisynightmarepoetry @puduvallee @aryaharmon

No pressure tags, just thought you'd maybe enjoy the update: @strawberymilktea @bensonispunk @hauntedpoetsdepartment @ellenmunn

[avelera]

OFMD S2 Meta - Stede's Garbage Self-Worth with regards to Ed is still unresolved

(And I'm so hyped for this plotline)

H'ok! So of all the scenes in episodes 1-3 of OFMD S2, this is the one I've been most hyped to discuss but I've been putting it off a few days so people had at least a little time to watch the new eps.

Gifs are courtesy of @ratchet from this gifset:

Hoooo BOY this is such an interesting scene to unpack! Because to me there's at least 3 levels going on here.

What Lucius hears

What the audience "hears"

What Stede literally said

Thing is, I believe when Stede says, "I'm not ready to believe that," the tone that Lucius hears and that the audience is at least 50/50 expected to hear based on the sort of cadence of the scene is, "I'm not ready to believe that Ed's best days are behind him. I'm going to change that."

But I'm not convinced that's what Stede is saying, what Rhys Darby is portraying, or what is literally on the page.

Literally, on the page, Stede says he's not ready to believe that. And given that Stede is very neurodivergent coded, Rhys is self-confessed autistic, and I believe Rhys is bringing that to his portrayal of Stede, I think we really should look at literal words as written and not just run with they're implied to say. This could be read as a declaration that Stede refuses to accept a reality where Ed's best days are behind him or the literal reading: he still can't process that Ed Teach's time with Stede Bonnet was the best Ed's life is ever going to get.

I believe this is for multiple reasons:

Stede isn't going to throw off a lifetime of low self-esteem and bullying overnight just because he's realized he's in love. Especially when the manner of realizing it (end of S1) was hurting the person he loves pretty badly by abandoning him without a word. He's determined to fix his mistakes but each step of the journey is revealing just how big of a mistake it actually was. Not exactly the stuff of sudden self-confidence and positive self-image change.

It requires a full re-write in Stede's brain of every single assumption he had about his relationship with Ed before their separation. Stede in S1, to my eyes, very much saw himself as the junior partner in the relationship. He saw Ed as taking pity on him, to some extent. He felt blessed to have Ed there. It informed so much of their relationship and it especially informed him taking off when he thought his presence was an active burden on Ed. Basically, what Lucius is saying here attacks the very foundations of Stede's understanding of the happiest part of his life so far. To learn that Ed wasn't just the happiest part of his life, but that he, Stede Bonnet, was the happiest part of Ed's life? Whew. Fuck. Not good. Very not good.

Because it's really not good if he was the happiest part of Ed's life, that he so fundamentally misunderstood their dynamic because of his low self-esteem, that he ended the happiest period of Ed's life without warning, without a note, prematurely, and left Ed with the inescapable conclusion that Stede doesn't care about him.

I think worse, even worse, is that Stede has evidence that Lucius is right that he was the best part of Ed's life. But in S1, we're heavily in Stede's POV and Stede's POV of himself is that he's a joke, pathetic, garbage, lucky to have someone like Ed in his life. But Ed's literal actions, louder than words, are that he chose Stede. He gave up piracy for him. He stayed by him. He offered his life for Stede's. Stede wasn't ready to hear that then, he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own low self-esteem whispering poison in his ear, externalized by the Badmintons (both real and imagined). He took their words as fact, rather than Ed's actions as fact. Reexamining Ed's actions shows just how wrong they were. Just how wrong Stede was. And just how badly he hurt Ed because he didn't listen to Ed, the person he loves, over the voices of his own trauma, self-doubt, or of the Badmintons, people who literally hated Stede.

It's a lot. It's a lot for Stede to take in. He's not there yet. But I love that we've had it said aloud: this is a major plot point still. Stede's end-of-S1 glow-up didn't signal that he's self-confident now enough to realize he might be as good for Ed as Ed is for him. He's still grappling with that. It shatters him to even begin to realize this. They have to work through that still. Stede is ready to start listening but he still doesn't, can't literally can't, believe it just yet. It's just too big.

And I am absolutely salivating to see how the rest of the season deals with this thread.

[hp-hcs]

yandere! mother! narcissa malfoy & gn! malfoy! reader

just some quick lil headcanons for you guys since i’m jetlagged as fuck 🥲👍

(also, anon, yes i do have your request! dw, tumblr did not eat it :D )

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

let’s say the darling is younger than draco, by a fairly significant amount. maybe three or four years

as the baby of the family, you get all of the malfoys’ overprotective behaviors

lucius is definitely overprotective, yes, but he’s always just sort of distant in nature, so it never comes off as oppressive as narcissa’s

but if you got your heart broken hoooo boy, the poor sap better start writing their last will and testament

(that is, assuming narcissa or your brother didn’t already get to them first 😬)

((although let’s be honest, you wouldn’t be allowed to pursue any romantic relationships. a partner might try to take narcissa’s darling away from her, and we can’t have that))

from the time you were born, you had always been narcissa’s darling

she wouldn’t let anyone else hold you, because what if her darling started liking lucius or auntie bella more than her? no no, we can’t have that

you two were practically attached at the hip. so much so, that she rarely even let you play with your brother

if you were hanging out with draco, then you weren’t hanging out with her, and that was An Issue™

up until you were maybe… five or so, your bed was in narcissa’s room

(which wasn’t a problem. look at that dysfunctional family and tell me lucius and narcissa don’t have a sleep-in-different-beds situation going on)

narcissa was having a tea party? you were in her lap or playing with your toys on the floor at her feet.

narcissa went shopping? no no, lucius. really, it isn’t a problem. y/n loves going shopping with me, isn’t that right dear?

narcissa was seeing draco off as he boarded the express for his first year? well, first he was going to have to hug his little sibling goodbye. but not for too long, narcissa hates when other people touch her darling.

narcissa saw her toddler darling wave to another wizard child across the street? she’ll buy you everything: candy, toys, books, whatever she perceives you as needing in order to stay by her side. just don’t expect to be allowed outdoors for a while.

some of narcissa’s friends come to visit? oh yes, this is y/n, say hi, dear. no, they’re very sick right now and must stay in their room, the poor thing.

she definitely dresses you up in outfits that are matching or complimentary to hers

you’re really just like a possession, in her mind. you’re a thing to be owned, something to sit still and look cute, rather than a living breathing human child

now, hogwarts. hogwarts is tough.

given you and your brother’s age difference, you should be entering your first year at about the same time as the dark lord returns.

this is great news for your mother

she now has a plausible excuse for homeschooling you. oh, no, my husband and i are just so worried, given the state of things.

(if anyone asks why they don’t homeschool both of their children, narcissa’s lips will thin into a straight line, and her top lip will curl back into a sneer. it’s so unsettling to see that people just drop the question.)

she has the house elves make you your favorites every day for meals, all while sighing about how the house elves at hogwarts won’t ever make you these, it’s such a shame.

by the time the next year rolls around and you can go to school, your mother only does so because of the dark lord’s newfound residence inside malfoy manor.

she is Not Happy™.

draco is overjoyed. now he has a chance to be around his darling little sibling without his pesky mother in the way

as a prefect, he has his own private dorm room. he pulls a few heartstrings, really, professor mcgonagall, i’m just worried about my sibling leaving my sight, especially in these uncertain times, and convinces the staff to let you move in.

draco’s friends try to sit with you both on the train, but that does not go well

“hey, little malfoy. i don’t think we’ve officially met yet.”

“nott, if you don’t stop looking at my y/n, i’ll rip out your eyes myself.”

so basically, you’re fucked! 👍😆👍🌈✨💖