#it crosses a line to where its okay to do that to everyone

[ochrearia]

Emptiness of Dreams

Dear god okay there's like a billion bitches in here. No one talks and it's YS POV but there's. A billion

I don't know how to explain this any clearer. Read between the lines. This will make sense for the people that need to I promise. Just things I want to say but can't say directly.

BFs in this one-shot: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine), cs!BF (Beefer, mine), wyd!BF (Beef, Karl's), fc!BF (Boyf, Gold's), Cyborg!BF (Cyber, Gold's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), S2!BF (Bee, Isaac's), ourple!BF (Brooke, Isaac/VS Ourple Guy), idu!BF (BJ, Storm's), mixtape!BF (Bash, Kry's), fightin!BF (Mic, Lunar's), lca!BF (Bunny, Damien's), Yourself (YS)

Blue, Bastion, Baker, and Blake are mentioned but not physically present

He knew he had a problem. Well, that was quite the understatement really. He had a lot of problems. So many to the point where YS really couldn’t understand why any of them were still here. Broken people attracted more broken people, sure. Fine. But even other broken people still had enough logic to understand when someone was too broken, right? When there were things beyond anyone’s help. Tiring aspects that were just too much to keep thinking about. It was easy for others to stop thinking about it when it wasn’t them experiencing it. YS couldn’t stop thinking. Probably never would. Every time something slipped a little bit under the surface of the water he drowned so fast. And it was so shameful that everyone got to witness it. Felt inclined to help when really, at this point, maybe it was just better to let him drown proper.

The space in between dreams was usually empty. The more people tumbling into the space meant more things would pop up, stemming from the day’s thoughts and wishes. It was always nothing but empty whenever YS was here on his own. Nothing but cold fog. Nothing friendly, nothing warm, nothing all that safe. What did that say about his thoughts and wishes, huh?

But the usual emptiness of dreams wasn’t here this time. Not that this wasn’t meant to happen, it just hadn’t happened when YS was around. Mainly because he never really slept at the same time as anyone else aside from… an exception. He’d been going on for a few days without any real, proper sleep, and while he was an Angel, a supernatural being, there was still only so much he could take before his body completely crashed on him. Which was what happened here and now, a lucky outcome that it happened to be at a time where he should’ve been asleep anyway.

So many of his brothers were here. Half of them he suspected didn’t even realize where they were. And with so many selves came a blooming of the space in between dreams. Things, thoughts, safeties and wishes. Taking form as soft wisps of smoke, alien-like grass and flowers, lavender light coming from no visible source at all. The space here never had to make any sense to begin with. It was all just dreams, mashed together in a magic link across realities that wasn’t really supposed to exist. But it did. Might as well make something out of it.

Biff, of course. Biff was almost always here when YS was, and probably the most aware of what this place even was. Not like anyone truly knew its rules. But the longer you visit, the more you get in-tune with how some things work. YS knew some of his brothers had felt him arrive here and changed their paths entirely to cross with his. The others most likely didn’t know what was really happening and were just automatically drawn to a sense of familiarity. All leading back to him. What a nice thought.

Beef and Biff were wordlessly fighting with each other for who got the space in his arms. Idiots. No damn concept of sharing. If they wanted hugs all they ever had to do was ask. They would wake themselves up with this ridiculous tussle if they weren’t careful, but YS could see the playfulness of it in each of their faces. Silent brotherly fighting. Little bastards who cared a lot about each other but refused to admit it.

Boyf and Cyber were here too. Boyf had a secured spot on his left while Cyber lay sprawled rather unceremoniously across his legs. Something akin to the indignancy pile that YS had endured back when his reach only yielded him five brothers. Now, it was so much more. He wasn’t sure if Cyber really knew where he was, but it didn’t seem to matter. There were quiet purrs coming from him anyway. If YS was there, then nothing else mattered. A bit of a terrifying thought for YS- god, when would his brain just pick one? A constant tug-of-war between reveling in the fact he was that much of a safety to someone, and fearing being so damn important.

YS wasn’t really sure where he stood with a lot of his brothers. Which was so… stupid, wasn’t it? Why didn’t he know? They all had expressed some form of deep care for him thus far, from directly saying it to just small but meaningful actions. Choosing to let him stick around in their lives. A stray passing thought. Not looking at him like he was some sort of disgusting freak. Maybe that last one was the bare minimum but it didn’t matter to him. That was still the world in his eyes after everything.

Bash was behind him, asleep. Balancing him while they leaned back to back against each other. Now, YS loved all his brothers. That was true and it would stay true. And it was painfully obvious that he trusted some of them with different things. Was that shitty of him? Maybe. Certainly felt that way to him when he wanted everyone to feel equally important. But there were so many of them now. That wish might be an impossible task now. But maybe YS would burn himself out still trying to reach it. He never wanted to leave anyone on a metaphorical level of less importance somehow.

To his brothers, he felt love and that was clear. And he should stop worrying so much about the differences in each relationship. They were all the same person but they weren’t carbon copies of each other. It would be stupid to try to condense them all down to that. And where other brothers filled holes he desperately needed fixed, Bash sort of… balanced him. He shared similarities with many of them. There was something about his one older brother that was special. YS just wasn’t sure how to convey that. Or really… fairly approach Bash like he deserved for that matter. But for now in between dreams the connection helped dampen his worries. He hoped he could believe he mattered the way he was told he does soon with him.

Peacock was on YS’s right. He was dozing too, but even in that state YS could feel an insistence to stay as close as possible. Two angels taking comfort in each other. It was funny, being a Guardian Angel and having another angel seemingly be guarding him. Beefer was somewhere nearby too. In his dinosaur form, for some reason, but maybe it was because he had no idea what this place was. Walking around. Guarding. Not just him, but everyone here. Even Boyf, despite them never getting along. Truce in the dream space. BJ kept an eye on the dinosaur lumbering around in circles. He seemed very curious about the other versions that obviously weren’t human. That, and well, it didn’t seem like any of them had seen a living dinosaur before who’s also an alien at the same time. Despite the curiosity BJ kept close to YS as much as he could, when everyone else was already crowding him.

Bee and Brooke were here as well. Lying content in the alien-like grass of the dream plains they were all sitting in together. Brooke didn’t seem very content though. Worried, hesitant. YS hadn’t gotten to talk to him a lot, and the first encounter had gone just about as wrong as it possibly could. YS didn’t think Brooke liked him at all. He’d probably prefer to be somewhere else, and that was fair. He was going through a lot as far as the angel could tell. But despite the dislike he was sticking around. Not for his peace of mind, obviously. Probably just because Bash, Bee, and Beef were clearly happy to stay here. It was enough to let Brooke take a hesitant chance.

Mic and Bunny were very new to YS, but they had made it here too. Playing chase for the sake of playing. Joy in a space they didn’t know, but it was okay, nothing could really hurt them here except their own fears. But it was clear no one truly feared where they were. It was funny, Mic was very much a little brother to YS despite him being five years older than him. Somehow. 

Yeah, no. Bash was the only one who was getting away with any semblance of taking care of YS in an older-brother kind of way. And even then YS felt some sort of guilt he was letting anyone be responsible for him.

It was weird. All of them kind of took care of him in their own ways. Just something unique and different about each one. Balance with Bash. Loyalty with Beef. Understanding with Biff. Warmth with Peacock. The list could go on, really. Though in the end they all seemingly wanted him here. Here, amongst people. Wasn’t that weird? Why did they want him here, anyway? YS still couldn’t find an understanding of that. ‘Because they wanted to’? Why? Why choose that with no real benefit?

People were so confusing.

Most of them managed to end up here tonight. That’s never really happened before. YS wondered what was different about this night. Wondered if the ones missing were awake, or just in their own dreams instead of the space in between. Blake, Blue, Baker. Good lord, if Baker was awake he swore to god he better not be creating a kitchen disaster right now. YS wondered how long it would take to get properly through to Bastion as well. Everyone, always on his mind. So many to keep track of, sometimes it made his head spin. But he’d still find room to fit in more. He had a feeling he was going to meet more brothers in the near future anyway.

People, here. With him. For him, some of them might try to say. That couldn’t be true. People shouldn’t be here for him, not when everyone else was around. Felt weird to think he was some sort of priority. But he supposed he was a massive hypocrite too. Prioritizing everyone else as much as he could, trying his hardest to treat everyone equally, make them feel special because they were. But then flinched away if anyone tried to mirror his actions.

How dumb. YS wanted someone to do for him everything he did for others, but couldn’t even be thankful to accept that if someone tried. Nothing was ever good enough, huh? Ridiculous…

Beefer turned suddenly, red eyes boring directly into the angel. Knowing. Right… emotional walls didn’t work on that one. He could tell right away. He’d made a promise to try and think like that less. He was trying. It was just harder on some days than others.

People… here. Could he indulge in saying for him? Did he deserve that, though? Unsure on that part. Whether he said it or not wouldn’t change if it was true or not. A concept there, to sit in the back of his mind, surrounded by all these people. Did he have to keep himself so lonely? YS was so afraid to somehow hurt anyone here, everyone. But would keeping himself lonely make them happy? That might just hurt them too.

He knew one of them was terrified of him leaving. Just from one old conversation. That never really left his head. But there was still a little guilt there, making him even worry so clearly about that. YS was doing his best to keep to his word- that he wouldn’t leave. Even though things kept sliding downhill so fast some days.

Maybe none of them wanted him to leave. It’s not like he wanted to leave either. Sometimes his mind was cruel, though. It was hard to tell properly if anyone cared enough for him to stay some days. Like all the progress went back to zero. Wasn’t that so exhausting? To deal with someone who needed reassurance so often?

YS wouldn’t leave. For as long as they wanted him at all, he would stay.

He had a lot of problems. Maybe he himself was a problem and it might be time to admit that. Needing so much direct reassurance almost every day. That was a problem. And he should try harder to stop doing that because he clearly wasn’t trying hard enough. He would change completely for them, because he loved them.

Maybe that was another problem.

He was just a problem, wasn’t he?

But all of these brothers were here. Loving him. Him and his problems. And YS swore to spend the rest of his time here making up for it all. However short or long that time was allowed to be.

He loved his brothers. Maybe he shouldn’t love them this much when not much time has really passed. But he did anyway. YS loved his brothers. Maybe in another reality entirely, they were all friends. A reality YS could never find, but existed anyway. He hoped so.

Friends… he hoped so. 

[bookie-bookdust]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons

Shitty attempt at headcanons for my morally gray, stubborn Sebby boy in Sebastian Sallow Fucking Sucks. It's long for literally no reason besides I don't know how to shut up.

My Seb has gone through it. He suffers - but he also deserves it for that whole "ignorant" outburst days after what happened in the Restricted Section on the night of the Yule Ball. So yeah, he's begging for forgiveness by the end when he realizes how torn he and MC's relationship has become - not without stubbornly trying to get under her skin first.

This idiot constantly wears tight clothes - not because he knows it drives MC insane, though if he noticed, it would get much much worse for her lol- but it's because he's so damn messy he grabs the first clean thing he can find in the morning (slutty little vests, tight sweaters, button downs with stressing buttons - RIP MC).

Reading glasses - enough said.

He's an extremely adept magic wielder. Not only can he cast multiple Unforgivables with shorter cooldowns, but his spells are obscenely strong. MC has not been able to beat him in a duel since that very first time.

That being said, he can't cast a patronus because he's a sad emo boy.

Fav spell: Confringo. Secret fav spell: Imperio.

It's not with the times, but he would definitely listen to metal music. You can't convince me otherwise.

The morally gray/dark wizard line is sooooo veryyyyyy thinnnnnnnn and will get worse.

He doesn't trust aurors and would NEVER BECOME ONE!!!!!!!! Why do ya’ll want him to be a cop so bad??? (Unless he's a dirty cop lol)

Career-wise, he'd be a curse breaker, healer, or a dark wizard 😌

Irrevocably dedicated to the ones he loves, and if he feels its dire enough, he will hurt them to protect them. Trust me on this - for no reason in particular😇

Not opposed to getting on his knees and begging hehehehe...

A skilled healer due to countless hours in the library studying up on a cure for Anne.

Has burned his fingerprints off with too many fire spells. And speaking of his fingers, it's common to spot him with ink staining his skin from all his note taking.

While he's charming and cocky, he sees himself as lesser, dispensable, and directly blames himself for all of his life tragedies.

Anger issues - duh.

Not sure if I'll even get into this in SSFS, but my Seb comes from a family of the Dark Arts - whether he's aware of it or not. We already know Solomon used them. I'd like to think his parents did as well, which is what led to their deaths. The Sallow line is cursed as fuck. Will be exploring this more in a future Dark Seb project where he has to break this curse.

Will make dick jokes. No one is safe.

While he'd make a great beater in Quidditch, his life just doesn't have space for trivial things. He's too busy with murder.

Speaking of body count LOL, he's charmed quite a few witches, but no one has shorted his brain quite like MC. He's intently studied some interesting books in the Restricted Section fantasizing testing out some things.

Idk when his birthday is lol. I'm just agreeing with everyone else.

Seb's relationship with Ominis is interesting....I'll be perfectly honest, I'm not sure if their friendship is going to survive in my world. Seb crosses too many lines. Obliviating your best friend really drives a wedge between you.

THE manipulator. We don't get to see too much of this in SSFS because we're in MC's pov. Particularly because he uses his wiles differently on her. But one of my favorite examples is even as he's mocking her for her poor attempt at lying in the broom closet, he's actively making her anxious (and hot and bothered lol) with that little thread on her sweater. And eventually she slips up. He's such a mother fucker lol.

Okay this post is way too long. I'm gonna leave now lol. BYEEEEE.

[nicxxx5]

as an outsider looking in (i'm not jewish or palestinian) i think the situation around noah going to israel is complex. should he have gone there with all the issues/genocide going on? no, probably not. but is he wrong for learning about his heritage as a jewish man? i don't really think so either. i think it's difficult to say his actions are either completely in the wrong or not.

however, i'd be incredibly shocked if he claim to have no clue what was going on, so i do think him traveling there now was in very poor judgment and he probably should have waited to go. or at the very least for his own sake kept it private.

i've also seen people having issues with the people he's hanging out with while he's there. i do think noah needs to reevaluate who he hangs out with because i've seen him hang out with people in the past that had me thinking "um...isn't this person not a good person? didn't they do something sleazy?"

now my opinion probably doesn't mean a whole lot because again i'm neither jewish nor palestinian. however, i think most everyone can agree that the given situation is not a green light to say homophobia, antisemitism, anti-palestinianism, zionism, etc is okay.

[evilminji]

You know all those Cults in Gotham?

Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.

Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!

It's sooooo obnoxious!

So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!

And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).

So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!

TAKE THE BAIT!

But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.

Okay.

Okay!

Plan B!

Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?

........OH COME ON! How?!

Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0

Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!

So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.

OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!

A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!

So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?

Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*

Ah HA! Got it!

Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*

And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!

Except??

Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?

You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.

Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.

What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.

And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.

And the baby.

The one... the one YOU made.

Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.

The baby YOU made.

Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?

The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.

He's not an "it".

They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!

How can this be WORTH it?

Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.

Your son is ready.

You do not tell them.

The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.

Why would they doubt?

You are Faithful.

You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.

Past towns.

Past cities.

Out of the state.

Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.

You are afraid.

But you will not let them harm your son.

Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.

Here. It... it has to be here.

You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.

He is just a baby.

He is your son.

You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.

You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.

Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.

You can barely see the road, through your tears.

You take your secrets to the grave.

And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.

Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.

They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!

When there was only ONE of "Him".

Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.

It saves his life.

His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.

And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.

A Watchtower engineer.

Daniel J. Fenton.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[viloxity]

Fluctuating Skies (Part 1 of 2) — Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Female Reader

Part 2

Synopsis: The scenario where the Monarchs rule Earth and the Shadow Monarch finds you in the New World.

A/N: this is one of two parts (he’ll get more unhinged, don’t worry). additionally, this is cross posted on quotev under the same name (viloxity). Any and all feedback or comments are greatly appreciated!!!

You loved the sky.

The sky was beautiful, and perfect. It was never-ending; even when you stared until your eyes burned, you could never find the ending—or the beginning. You would stare, and stare, until you noticed the clouds. The way the clouds explored the skies’ vastness, steadily drifting towards their next unknown journey, gave you hope in this fickle world—a world where you were not sure if a tomorrow was guaranteed.

Each distortion that filled the skies—the skies you have started to despise—spelled an inevitable demise as humanity endured even worse losses. As you took exams at college, there were lines outside of hospitals. The day of your graduation, as you walked the confetti covered balcony, there were bodies lining graves—the A-rank dungeon break nearly flushed out a small city an hour away from you. That day, your supposed ‘celebration’ encompassed hesitant smiles and reluctant whispers that congratulated you on your success.

“At least we are still here.” You recalled a woman saying, scolding the looks on her family’s faces.

You looked at the sky, your tassel gently flowing with the motion of your head. Eventually, the monsters will take over this land. They will overwhelm humanity’s strongest fighters and wipe out the population in clusters. You could feel the anger pooling, then, at your helplessness. Average civilians were so weak, so useless. It hurt that you couldn’t even protect anyone, let alone yourself. Why, why were you born so weak—

Your emotions stilled at a cloud that slowly passed over the sun. Your heart was calm, beating slower.

Even when the world ends, the sky will remain unchanged—unchanged, vast, and still beautiful.

Then, the world ended.

You still remembered the day as if it were just yesterday, when the gates appeared—the roaring sounds oscillating across the entire country and its diameter devouring the peaceful summer sky. The action of itself was unjust—not because it triggered the apocalypse, but because it tied in a pacifist to the unyielding destruction of the entire world. There was a brief intermission between the gate openings and the flow of monsters; realization of the situation propelled Darwin’s theory of natural selection into motion. You were lucky to have broken out of your stupor, yelling out that everyone should run—maybe you saved some lives that day.

The screams were just as loud as the tremors that shook the earth once the rampage began. You could not focus on anything else but the shrieks, and the vile sounds of slicing of innocent faces you would now never get to meet in this lifetime. Once again, you were helpless to the world around you. No awakening, no power, no ability to do anything. The best you could do was silence your whimpers and hope it all stops.

Was your family okay? You thought as another scream fell silent. Where were they?

You looked at the sky for a miracle, but all you could see was that damned gate.

“Thank you.” The stranger’s trembling hands folded over the small bread bun, his eyes full of shame and gratitude.

You nodded, then smiled. “You can pick up water from the well just North of here.”

The man nodded his head, repeatedly murmuring ‘thank you’s’ with his voice growing hoarse as tears dripped down his eyes. He had not moved to start eating yet; you could feel his hesitance even after you gave him the bun. You nodded once more before making a swift exit. From a few meters away, you could distantly make out the sounds of biting and chewing.

Your heart felt content. It was warm, sometimes, but it was hard for the heat to linger long. It was hard to fan the flames in the first place; humanity had dispersed into fragments, with remnants of a sound society lost long ago. You also had not heard of a single word regarding your family, no matter how many villages you crossed or people you asked—you assumed them dead on the day of the Parade.

Yes, the day of the Parade. The day of the nightmare you wished to forget, the crossing of endless monstrosities, and the mark of the end of humanity. By some miracle, despite the constant onslaught of dragons and beasts crossing the gates, you lived. Back then, people agreed how fortunate you and others were to be able to hide—after all, if you didn’t hide, you ran. Yet, all you could feel was turmoil brewing within you.

Was it really something fortunate?

The people you loved; your family, friends, they were all gone. Your accomplishments, career, vanished the moment the gates flooded open. Back then, you were playing a game of ‘pretend’—those serene smiles and unsaid thoughts renounced the oncoming catastrophe as a tale of make-believe. You wanted to shout at the survivors that nothing was ‘fortunate’ anymore, that you all were apart of scrapped pages ripped from a fable that deemed your lives forfeit after its story reached the end. You were dirt on the ground, now; organic matter that existed as sustenance for better life forms.

Then, there was the sky. The sky you had loved and cherished deeply, was an entity that you blamed. It was the sky’s fault; something that symbolized tranquility and freedom was replaced as a symbol of the beginning of the end. Beautiful, were the bright explosions that blinded and wrecked cities. Vast, the lines of gates that it held. Limitless, the rows and rows of monsters it brought from within. No longer a constant variable in your life, it was something that reminded you of the day you lost everything.

At least, that’s what you thought back then.

There was more to life than you realized when you found the first village. You had trekked far from the city, and far from your home. You did not know where you were walking, and it looked fruitless based on the lack of your supplies. By a stroke of luck, a group came across you while you were slumped on the floor. They pitied you, offering to take you to their sanctuary—the last of humanity’s efforts to survive.

Upon arrival, you noticed the structure itself looked flimsy, with a handful of people walking through rubble and around deep holes in the ground. It also looked poorly built; houses were built from logs and leaves, with some looking as if they could fall over any moment. But, that didn’t matter—what mattered were the people. A person stood in the middle of the village; you could only make out his shouts and pointing in different directions to assume he was the leader of the village. You watched as men moved to build another house, the same poorly structured house, as others ran away to seemingly get supplies. The women occupied their time by cooking and playing with the children, and you nearly cried at how carefree the children looked.

Despite everyone’s losses, they still moved on. You all were specks of dirt in the ground, but together—as soil—you could erode even the hardest of rocks.

You stopped momentarily, turning behind a piece of wooden wall that was left from a now-destroyed-shed. You peeked around the corner, seeing the man feast on the tiny bun. Good, he was eating. You originally volunteered to assist outsiders, thus had been handing out bread buns the entire day to lone scavengers roaming the outskirts. Although you could no longer take care of your family like you used to, at least you can try to ensure the nourishment of others.

You sighed, relief sifting down your body. You shifted through your bag, feeling the weight of a singular item. You had one more piece left, meaning your work wasn’t over, but you had exhausted nearly the entire outskirts. Perhaps you should take another lap around again—

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw what looked to be a dark, blackened figure. It reminded you of the black spots you would get when you were dizzy or fatigued, so you turned your head for a better view.

There was… nothing. Everything was dark, covered by a half-broken roof and the rapid growth of moss and vines. You felt as if… something was staring at you. It was like a sharp pinch, as if there was a pair of eyes piercing like a needle into your soul. At the same time, you felt tired; enough so that if you were to close your eyes right now, you were sure the abyss would greet you in response.

Your eyes swept the shed, noticing a faintly drawn outline that was swaying within the void of darkness. You made contact with a pair of dimmed gray hues, its stare so bold and cold that a shiver quaked through your body. It was tempting to conclude that it was just some illusion, some petty trick on your mind so that the pill was easier to swallow. The longer you stared into the gray depths, the more you couldn’t look away.

What was this feeling?

It was not only that you felt your heart pump strenuously, but the surreality of your condition. You felt and heard your heart pump simultaneously with the feeling of adrenaline hitting your bloodstream. Your arms and legs tensed out of instinct, causing you to wince as your muscle fibers moved and pulled across your bones. The several cracks under the soles of your feet trembled slightly, as if matching your fear.

You wanted to look away so badly. You are too entranced now; a rabbit trapped under sharp claws as the wolf stared down its prey.

Please, please, please, look away.

No, this feeling—

You are remembering that day again. God, why even remember now?

It must be a coincidence—but it couldn’t be. It feels so much like…

Like…

Like those beasts.

Those beasts that walked where the sun did not follow.

They appeared in shaky and inky black forms. They would appear, and whatever they would do, would always result in a calamity. You heard the most screams from them, always.

“I’m paralyzed.” You thought, realization sinking in.

Is this the end?

Then, a sigh.

A deep, long, aired out sigh.

In an instant, all the pressure building within your frame vanished. The tension on your sarcomeres lessened, like a weight slowly floating off your shoulders. As the rush dissipated, you are left with trembling hands and shaky legs. Your senses came back to you, one by one.

Your head shot up, fearful eyes meeting wary ones. You see a figure, now—which looked to be a man—but it was odd. His frame was fluctuating between reality and obscurity, like he was struggling to pick the right balance of tenebrosity or to succumb entirely to the veil of night. His stare engraved holes into you; it was lucky that you hadn’t deflated into a balloon, most likely due to the restraint on his aura.

Aura… his sheer presence is powerful enough to knock you unconscious, that much you could tell.

To be truthful, you were clueless as to his actual thoughts. Initially, his presence was concealed—only emitting essence that you now thought was a warning. Maybe you pushed a button or two, seeing as he actually appeared in front of you. If anything, you were slightly grateful to know that you weren’t entirely crazy and that there was an actual person in the shed. However, you couldn’t read his expression at all; firstly because he wasn’t conveying anything, and secondly because you were too scared to try.

Neither of you moved; the shock having knocked the breath out of you and the stranger seemingly studying you.

Then,

“Go home.”

His voice was deep, so low in octave you imagined the sound waves still bouncing around your ear drums. In any other situation, it would’ve soothed you, as you envisioned singing lullabies or the humming of baritone tunes.

But, you also weren’t stupid. The man’s wording was specific—a demand. In a sense, he was a king; a ruler who offers you mercy after finding you in contempt of the sovereign because you tried stepping on his land. Unconsciously, your legs moved, recognizing that the lord gave you permission to leave—words your being waited on with bated breath to live another day.

So, you ran, not realizing that you dropped your bag of items, nor the growing smile on the stranger’s face.

That man, he never left your mind.

Somber gray eyes, and a complexion that rivaled Greek gods. His hair was as dark as the shadows devoured under his silhouette. He was more than ordinary, representative of a being that practices and deals in absolute power. There were only a handful of people who were gifted with abilities like that, back when the very first gates opened.

Right, now you remembered—they were called hunters. Hunters were classified into different rankings, all the way to S-rank and even national level hunters. To be a hunter, you were granted a certain seed of power.

If he were to be like anything else back then, could he have been a hunter? An S-class, even?

It was rare to come across ‘hunters’ anymore, the label long disbanding alongside the association that coined the term. When they appeared, it was considered a bad omen. Either they were chased by the Monarchs of the New World (for the risk they held) or isolated by the unawakened out of fear. Perhaps, the man was the last of the hunters—of the humans who could fight back at all.

Either way, you wanted to see him again. The more reflecting you did, the more you registered his seclusion; he is far, far from the remnants of civilization.

Regardless of the fear you felt, or the possibility of death, he was still human. He was someone who lost everything, just like you and everyone else.

The destination was a long and grueling walk from the current village you stayed at. Passing by outlanders, you gave out food and supplies as normal, while steadily making your way towards the shed.

Would he still be there? It was hard to say. Most remaining hunters were known to be nomads; staying in one place for longer than a day was like shooting fish in a barrel for their next enemy. You were not sure if he was a hunter in the first place, too—it was your latest profound superstition to be proven by whatever little luck you had left. As you treaded further, the familiarity of your surroundings fill you with perpetual dread. You began to second-guess your courage to embark on this trip in the first place, thoughts clouded and eventually drowned out by faint whispers inside decaying wooden walls. The moment your final step reached the broken shelter a hush filled the air, the shed girdling the edge of the forest encompassed by a heavy silence.

“Hello?” You called out to no one in particular.

You nearly surprised yourself with the surge of bravery to make out your greeting. You peeked into the shed, hands waving through vines. There was no one around the entrance, despite you hearing multiple voices.

Odd.

You weaved through a few cracks in the floorboard before being greeted by gray eyes. You jumped, obviously, because you did not expect him to be in such close proximity to you. He was a till a few feet away, but you could have never spotted him if he chose to sit closer to the wall. He was indeed discernible now, sitting under a small stream of light gifted by the sun. His shadow dragged along the box he sat atop of, sinking behind its crevices before pushing itself onto the wall and absorbing its shade. In any other universe, you would’ve described it as strange. In this case, you thought it supported how outlandish—and isolated—he must be.

“You’re back, what a surprise,” The man said, expression clearly detached. “I thought I scared you off.”

This was going to be difficult.

“Right. I was, but I thought it would be better to introduce myself since we got off on the wrong foot—“

A half truth, but you were also cautious.

“—my name is Y/N.”

He was burning holes into you again—the stare wasn’t any less discomforting than the previous time. His silence, too, was deafening. A sudden urge to scream to at least get a reaction out of him rose within you, but you quickly simmered it out.

The stranger’s eyes narrowed slightly as he let out a faint hum.

You winced. “I wanted to give you something that I couldn’t last time.”

You quickly plucked out a wrapped item, hastily tearing through the covering to reveal a bread bun. You weren’t able to catch a glimpse of his face, opting to shift the bread onto an elevated surface so he wouldn’t be incentivized to lunge at you.

“I hope that this helps you, even if it isn’t a whole lot.” You said, nervously picking your cuticles.

The silence was very, VERY heavy, and—can he please say something?

You looked up and caught the man’s wide eyed, dazed state as his eyes lingered on the bread. It reminded you of a skeptical stray cat at a crossroads when offered an open-hand. The man’s eyes met yours, then, and all you could think was how much better he looked without baring his teeth at you.

“You’re funny.” He dryly chuckled, faint smile betraying his nonchalance.

You offered a small smile, blissfully unaware of his next few words.

“I’m Jinwoo.”

And,

“See you tomorrow?”

“Are you a hunter, Jinwoo?” You asked after placing down the wrapped bread.

You wanted to use his name in some way, lest you forget it or say it wrong. It was ironic you carried over some of your social habits after the end of the world, like a puppy you once fed.

“You could say that,” Jinwoo replied simply.

“Could?” You echoed.

He must’ve noticed your frown, adding, “Not like it matters now.”

He had a point; the name lost its meaning awhile ago. Still, you were ruffled by his restrained disposition. Surely, the label still had meaning to him.

…No, that was an unfair presumption. Jinwoo knows his own memories and emotions better than everyone, especially you. Besides, it wasn’t worth arguing the semantics on the basis of mere suspicion.

Thus, you decided to let it go.

Ah, that reminded you—he never told you his last name.

“You don’t have family?”

“I did.”

You perked up. “…You lost them, too?”

Jinwoo closed his eyes, licking his lips. “Because of the Tragedy, yes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Then, he squinted his eyes curiously. “I’m more interested in your story.”

You coughed suddenly, shocked by his gravitation towards you. Maybe it was because all you had to offer was bread and stories, or because you never took the chance to settle with your memories, but you felt compelled to talk.

And talk, you did.

Jinwoo was an excellent listener; he was levelheaded and passive, allowing you to just… talk, and talk, and talk (with a tendency to sigh or huff as remarks). You were spilling your family’s entire life story, grasping this fact in the middle of talking about your sister’s fiancé’s secret affair, but you found that you didn’t care. If you weren’t able to come to terms with your family’s passing before this, perhaps someone else can remember in your stead.

Did he care to remember every single detail, anyway? Probably not.

“Hold on—I lost track of the time. Crap, it’s getting dark.” You said, rushing to readjust your cloak. If you started the walk now, you might make it before it’s fully dark.

“It’s rather late, it wouldn’t be safe for you to leave.” Jinwoo said, rough voice clipping louder than your hurried shuffling.

“Did you like my stories that much?” You joked.

You waited a few beats of silence. “Sorry, bad joke; I wouldn’t have any place to sleep if I stayed, anyway.”

The shed violently shook at the end of your sentence, causing your heart to lurch in your chest. You latched onto the metal pole next to you, clutching tightly as you waited for the shaking to cease. Within seconds, Jinwoo was next to you, gently but firmly holding your arm; in moments, the quaking stopped.

“Must’ve been an earthquake.” Jinwoo noted, tone and expression laced with unconventional serenity.

Your quivering hadn’t stopped after the vibrations ceased. In fact, it increased exponentially because you were still trying to comprehend the glimpse of Jinwoo’s vibrant, deep purple eyes etched with absolute unadulterated fury.

You were deluded, you thought quickly as your breathing hastened. You were tired, surely.

“I should go home.”

His breathing stilled.

“Don’t forget about me tomorrow,” Jinwoo said, sounding strangely hollow as his iron grip slowly released you.

Once again, you ran away from his grasp.

[fleurmiss]

ೃ⁀➷ only you, my girl

- ,, neteyam x fem reader

- ,, you think neteyam is extremely attractive, others do too , its fine! you get it! but what happens when they cross a line ?

- ,, warnings - neteyam is head over heels for u, jealousy and the attitude that comes w it, fluff , all this happens before the events of awotw.

-‘๑’- dark red - steve lacy

Neteyam has always shown so much interest in you, and made his courting so obvious, but why do people still not get the damn hint?

Currently you are walking on a huge tree branch, high above the ground, with Lo’ak, Kiri and Spider. Neteyam isn’t here, much to your dismay, because he has “ Future Olo’eyktan duties” as Lo’ak likes to call it.

“it’s almost eclipse, let’s start heading back” Kiri mentions and for once, Lo’ak and Spider agree and make their way home without causing too much of a fuss

“woah guys, you barely even whined about having to go back home so early today, whatsup?” you question laced with sarcasm as you hear Kiri chuckle and nod in agreement with you.

“we don’t want to keep you away from your boyfriend for too long y/n, we all know how cranky my brother gets without you” Lo’ak adds and Spider cackles, thinking this is so super funny.

You shove Lo’ak and tell him to shut up, and that Neteyam’s not your boyfriend, and he doesn’t get cranky.

Your relationship with Neteyam was quite.. obvious , yet complicated. Both confused teenagers in love yet don’t know how to confess it, nothing was official, but everyone knew you were off limits, you were Neteyam’s girl.

you are clutching your stomach in pain from laughing too hard when you enter the Sully’s cave, wiping a tear from your cheek wondering how on pandora could someone be so stupid as lo’ak and spider.

You hear the laughter die down and your eyes set on a pair sitting together in the gathering room of the cave, Neteyam and Rini.

You eye both of them in confusion, so does Lo’ak, Kiri, and even Spider. You feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach but not in the good way, you don’t like how close Rini is to Neteyam.

“Guys, Rini caught me on the way back to our cave and said she wanted to hang out with everyone, hope no one minds?”

The four of you shake your heads and make your way to the pair to sit down with them. It was odd, Rini wasn’t good friends with any of you, maybe Neteyam? No, you would know. Why does she suddenly wanna hang out with us? Neteyam is often times too nice to say no, maybe he couldn’t deny her? You wonder if the others question the same, and maybe they do, judging by the looks on their faces.

“y/n” you hear your name in neteyam’s voice, he pats the spot next to him, the opposite side of where Rini is sitting, you don’t want to sit next to him, to be petty, but you oblige anyways, oblivious to the female na’vi glaring daggers at you, Neteyam gives you a bright smile, now that you got his attention, you’ll have it the rest of the night.

Neteyam embraces you in a warm hug, his hands sneaking around your waist as he whispers into your ear “missed you, you look good”

you smile shyly and open your mouth to thank him, but someone else beats you to it

“Neteyam! This cut on your arm looks terrible!! Are you okay? How’d you get it?!”

God. Her voice is annoying, why is she yelling? Neteyam is literally next to her?

You eye Kiri and she rolls her eyes at Rini, you stifle a laugh and Neteyam notices, smiling sweetly at your antics, momentarily forgetting Rini was even there, until he is bought back to his senses.

“Oh this? It’s nothing just a scratch”

“Do you want me to patch it up for you?”

Your eye twitches, you try to have a normal conversation with the other three, trying your best to ignore the two sitting right next to you, but Rini makes it unbelievably hard with her screeching voice.

“No I’m g-“

“I insist” Rini touches Neteyams shoulder and gives it a squeeze, you look at Neteyam and he knows it, you’re pissed. You stay quiet and enjoy the show infront of you.

“I’ll have y/n help me later Rini, it’s alright.”

“Oh- Oh yeah okay” she deflates, but you have a feeling deep down, this girl isn’t giving up so easily. You wonder who put her up to this. Her mother? Grandmother? Friends? Toruk Makto’s eldest son’s mate does have a nice ring to it, despite the length, but that title’s yours, she knows it.

You all are laughing at Lo’ak and Kiri arguing about who Spider likes better when Neteyam rests his head on your shoulder. You feel your stomach explode with butterflies again, the good kind.

“Tired?”

“mhm” Neteyam mumbles, you reach your hand up to the braid dangling infront of his face and move it behind his ear. Your romantic little moment is interrupted yet again by the same culprit from last time.

“Neteyammm, it’s so dark! Will you walk me to my cave?” Rini latches onto Neteyam’s arm and gives him a little tug thats powerful enough to have him pulling away from you and get him to stand up.

“Uh-“ Neteyam looks at you for approval, you’re not looking at him, instead opting the floor was a better option. Neteyam is no fool, he knows why you’re upset, he gets it too, if some random man was leeching onto you like Rini is, he’d be upset, hell, he’d be crazy. He doesn’t like that expression on your face, he doesn’t like when you’re sad, because of him too.

Neteyam look’s over to Lo’ak and Lo’ak immediately gets on it. “Bro don’t worry about it, Kiri, Spider and I will walk Rini to her cave, we know you’re tired and wanna be with your girlfriend”. Lo’ak smiles and winks at his older brother.

This throws Rini offguard.

“Thank you guys. Rini, see you around”.

“Awh Neteyam it’s a shame you couldn’t accompany me, y/n keeps snatching you away from me and if i’m correct.. she isn’t even your girlfriend.. you should spend more time with me and my friends!” Rini smiles slyly, her tone innocent but her intentions show clearly. Rini hugs Neteyam and whispers something in his ear, which you’re sure she said loud enough for you to hear on purpose.

“If you ever do need a mate that will actually commit, you know your options” she winks and pulls away from his embrace as the group starts to walk outside, irritated.

You stand up abruptly and walk past Neteyam who stood there dumbfounded.

“Y/n” He grabs your wrist to stop you from walking any further.

“Let go Neteyam, I wanna go home” You hate how wobbly your voice sounds when you speak right now.

“y/n, are you crying?” He sounds so worried it makes you even sadder

“i’m sorry baby, im sorry, i didn’t know she was gonna act like that” he pulls your head into his shoulder and strokes your back comfortingly.

“don’t call me that.. im not your girlfriend, and i don’t care how she acts” you say, though your tone and quivering lip betray your words

“y/n..” he pulls you away and cups your face with his gentle hands, afraid he would break you if he was any less gentle “cmon look at me” you meet his gaze and his eyebrows furrow at the sight of your slightly red but watery eyes

“you know you’re the only girl i ever want right? you’re so special to me y/n..why don’t you see that, i want you to be mine so bad, every morning i wake up and pray to Eywa to finally have let you see how desperate i am for you. why must you let someone like rini ruin your day?”

you sniffle, and Neteyam thinks its so cute he could kiss you right now, but he holds back.

“but i am yours nete” you say, unintentional doe eyes looking up at Neteyam that make him melt, he can’t hold himself back anymore .

Neteyam leans towards your face, held by his hands, and he stops right infront of your lips, asking for permission, waiting for disapproval “kiss me y/n” it sounds like a plead, like he’s almost begging, so you do.

you feel your head explode, his lips are so soft, so perfect against your own and you question why you didn’t do this before.

you pull away but neteyam chases after your lips and captures them again. You finally pull away and rest your forehead against his. Neteyam gives you another kiss that lasts shorter than your previous, “i see you, y/n”

you look up at him through your eyelashes and smile slowly

“say it back” he whispers against your lips and you almost give in.

“are you sure? you don’t wanna explore your other options?”

“you are the only option, ever.” you smile.

“i see you, neteyam” and you kiss him again, he whines into your mouth and you have to stop yourself from giggling at the sight of our future olo’eyktan being putty in your hands.

- you hear a sob from outside and later realize Rini stayed behind cuz she thought Neteyam would leave you and go after her but oh was she wrong

- loak, kiri, and spider dont even realize rini is missing and they start talking shit abt her once they know shes gone

- anytime rini saw u and neteyam after this, she would always have her fists balled up and bottom lip quivering

- she thought she still had a chance with neteyam after her eavesdropping on his confession but everytime yall hung out neteyam would be so clingy that eventually she realized he was too inlove with you

- fuck u rini hah hes mine btch

[revelboo]

You works are awesome, but i also wanna remind you not to overwork yourself! :) Have a nice day/night! ;3

Honestly, considering this blog is only 24 days old, it’s you guys I’m a bit worried about. Y’all good? Cause holy crow…

The Weakends Pt 5

TFP Ratchet x Reader- argument

• Putting a tool away, Ratchet glances over at the empty counter, the medbay quiet around him. Who’d have thought he’d miss your questions and companionable chatter? Need it to work. That silence drives home the fact that you’re avoiding him. Have been for days now and it’s worming under his plating, a disquiet that sparks through him, because you belong here. Your loss making him snap at everyone, because it’d be one thing if you were just skulking about the base, but no. Since you got upset with him, you’ve kept far away. Sulking like a sparkling.

• Setting the little trowel aside, you drag one of the mums you’d bought closer and wiggle it free of its little plastic pot. It’s warmer today, sweat slicking your skin as you work. Really, you’re just keeping busy. Trying to distract yourself, because you’re so frustrated you want to scream. Mostly at a certain white and red moron. And yourself. You know you’re both too proud to bend now. Neither one of you willing to back down no matter how silly the argument actually was. Even if staying away feels like you’re punishing yourself more than him.

• The sound of gravel popping under tires lifts your head and you squint in the sun. Bumblebee and the kids back again to pester you into coming in? Lips pressing into a thin line when you spot the ambulance, you yank off your gloves. Surely, he isn’t going to actually apologize? Blowing out a breath, you stand and stretch the kinks out of your back. Your little house is far enough from town and the main road that Ratchet can transform without worrying about being spotted and he does, walking the rest of the way over with a scowl like he tastes something foul. Cocking a hip, you cross your arms and wait for the apology. “Well, you’re not dead or dying,” he growls, optics narrowing at you.

• “Yeah, doing great,” you say, tone tight with anger as your fingers dig into your upper arms. “So, I don’t need a medic.” The ‘I don’t need you’ coming across loud and clear. That open hostility in your stare ramping up his own irritation that you’re so petty you’d made him drive all the way out to retrieve you. And you turn your back to him, bending to roughly seize a potted plant. Ignoring him. After he came to get you? His servos close around your middle, hearing your startled gasp as he lifts you. And then you whip around, chucking that plant at his head. It bounces off, scattering dirt all over him as you glare at each other. “Put me down. Right now.”

• Your heart’s racing, the adrenaline souring inside you as you realize you just hit him with a mum. And he’s not just going to let that slide. His optics shutter, jaw clenching as he vents angrily and you tense for the yelling. The fury. Instead, one of his servos slides over your torso as he adjusts his grip. That servo settling against your breast where your frantic heart is pounding away. Grabbing that servo, you mean to shove at it, but just hold on. Slowly his venting evens out.

• He can feel your heart thumping against his servo, frantic with fear. Of him. He can’t move, snared by that rhythm, knowing he’s causing it. As he remains still, that too quick beat slows. Calming. Your little hands shift on his servo. “There’s work to do. I need my assistant,” he says. Can’t make himself apologize, but isn’t leaving without you either, even if he has to just take you. You’re coming home. And you whisper okay so low he almost misses it, that tension winding through him just unraveling.

Previous

Next

[hollowblxxd]

[ AU / Speculation for me ] [ I CAN FIX IT .... NOT FOR YOU ]

Okay so because I am a man who hates to see things end badly Im here writing a sort of... fanfiction for myself that cleanse up the mess of Mouthwashing. No disrespect to the whole game but this is my thoughts Some warning for mature subjects and obviously possible spoilers for Mouthwashing!

Basically I thought about the idea of Jimmy being dealt with before he could complete his plan against the crew and it all stems from the idea that there's actually a secret cryopod on the ship. We see only 4 in the main part but there's 5 people on board, which even if you want to argue Pony Express doesn't give a shit, I think its somewhat reasonable to assume that should there be an emergency there would in fact be enough cryopods for everyone to get into so that a potential crew can be saved. This secret cryopod is obviously ONLY used in the case of an emergency and is ONLY known to exist by the captain. Aka Curly. Curly realizes that Jimmy is getting too unhinged and crossing far more lines than hes ever seen him do before. Though Curly fears and cares for his unfortunately stupidly manipulative friend, he realizes he has to take action against Jimmy to ensure no harm comes to the remaining crew. So Curly basically tricks Jimmy into thinking that he's going to be revealing a secret to Jimmy, something only "a captain and his co-pilot can know" before taking Jimmy to this secret cryopod. Since technically having a "potential psychological unsound person" on board DOES class as an emergency and with no "brig" available for holding, Jimmy is put in there. His last moments is Curly's well deserved "betrayal." Thus now Jimmy is a festering sleeping mess inside the cryo-chamber, grinding thru a horrific nightmare where he gets his revenge on Curly, where he gets control of the ship while spiralling further and further into outright INSANITY in some jacob's ladder style purgatory as his mental state is forever stuck "coping" with his anger, his guilt, his fear, his hatred, his selfishness and so on and so forth. Basically everything that happens in the events of Mouthwashing is a already crazy's man nightmare-ish delusion as he awaits judgement day, aka the time when he leaves the pod and has to face the justice he deserves. Meanwhile with Jimmy put away in hold, the crew get a chance to breath. Jimmy overbearing nature eases everyone tension and though it was a hard decision it was a well made one. Its not all perfect however because Anya takes all of this quite hard feeling guilty that it got this far. She does attempt to end her life which she is luckily saved from by Curly and the rest of the crew. Since Anya is now sick, Daisuke has to take over acting as Nurse, following Curly and Anya instructions on how to make this all easier. Anya is safe around Daisuke and his bright optimistic personality is really fitting for a nurse, never once does she feel ashamed or scared and for once feels a sense of relief and freedom. Her commenting that Daisuke would make a good nurse which Daisuke takes to heart since he still obviously struggling to find "what hes good at" Curly temporarily takes up the role of being an engineer with Swansea since, Curly as the lovely captain SHOULD know his ship inside and out too and hey, even as a bonus, he may even show Swansea how to steer a ship. This ends up with Curly and Swansea having a good man to man bond. In the end, Anya recovered free from her abuse and regains her personality and happiness, Daisuke discovers his passion for medical work happily taking college recommendation from Anya, Swansea learns a bit about riding a ship and thinks "hey I could probably do good as a space trucker" and Curly also detached himself from the parasite that is Jimmy who constantly been trying to drag him down! So there, I fixed it. But not for him.

[cheriladycl01]

I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader Part 4

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, you've worked your whole life to become an engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn't want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull Racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as your present father figure.

"Who was that?" Max asks having seen the Mercedes ahead of him, no longer racing.

"I can confirm that is George Russell" you say calmly looking at the on-board seeing that the number 63 had stopped movement on the map.

"What happened?" Max asks.

"Focus on the race Max, Norris is closing that gap" you sigh, checking the tires and the breaks which looked like Max was wearing them out a little more than anticipated.

"If Norris pits, we will pit, if he stays out we stay out. Protect the tires and bring it home" you advise there wasn't many laps left and you were starting to sweat from the sun that had moved so it was now on your back in the box.

"Okay, copy" he says, he took the corners softer while keeping that gap with Norris.

"Okay, it looks like Norris isn't going to pit, Christian is debating to come in for tires" you explain to him, you look over at Christian who is analysisng the data.

"What do you think?" he asks you.

"I advised we stay out if Norris stays out, Norris is on fresher tires by 3 laps, but we are the faster car. The tires will hold until the end" you suggest and he nods.

"Okay, no pit. 12 laps to go, Norris is 2 seconds behind. Push Mode Push" you say, nodding at Horner as you both watch the on-board of Max, he's having an amazing drive today.

12 laps later and Max crosses the checkered flag. You and Christian cheer and hug each other.

"That's P1 Max, P1 in Brazil" you say into the radio, a grin on your face. You hear his cheer and thanks before your running with the rest of the team to go congratulate Max. You get crushed by the Pit Crew as the gather around you and Max squeezing all of you.

The podium was amazing and you were filming the whole thing while talking to Geri next to you. You couldn't be prouder of this moment. You see the cameras on you, making you wave and smile excitedly before frowning and pointing for them to look at Max and his podium rather than film you.

"Well done Max" you smile as he hops down off the stage and towards you both.

"George has been watching you this whole time, just so you know" Max offers leaning in and whispering to you so that no-one else could here. You look over his shoulder, seeing he was in fact right and that George was glaring at the back of his head, watching the interaction between the both of you.

"I'm not ready to talk to him yet, I know i said I'd talk to him here, but its too soon. Is that childish of me?" you ask, not sure if this was right.

"No, after how he acted, he deserves more than the cold shoulder. I have an interview and you have a piece with Netflix I believe. I'll tell him that after Abu Dhabi you'll review your situation, how is that?" Max asks looking at you, you nod pulling him back into a hug before nodding and looking away.

"Thank you Max, really!" You smile turning back round to catch his gaze before finding the Netflix crew and where you'd sit to start your piece.

You walk in, and they make sure you hair and makeup is looking good before they explain to you what they want you to do.

"So you want me to walk in, sit down and smile at you guys before saying something funny?" you ask unsure of how this would even work.

"Yeah, we want this to be as natural as possible. It's going to cut from Max's old engineer walking off... which we filmed last week to you walking in" the director smiles.

You walk into the line of the camera, before turning round and taking your seat, smiling at the camera.

"Get a load of that guy am I right?" you laugh, and everyone in the room joins in laughing.

"Hi, I'm Y/N Wolff and I am Max Verstappen's race engineer for Red Bull Racing" you smile into the camera again.

"So you came into the season quite late... but you haven't disappointed" the interviewer says.

"I guess you could say that"

"And, it's an interesting last name you have there. One that's already known in the F1 media very well..." they push.

"The team principle of Mercedes Amg Petronas is my dad, yes" you say.

"And now you are working for a rival... which came out of the blue may i say"

"Yes"

"And do you have any regrets"

"One"

"And what is that?"

"That I didn't go to Horner sooner" you say with a blank face and they all clap.

You go onto to be questioned about the whole ordeal with George and your dad, you knew the fans would eat all of this up.

They offer you to stay around while Will Buxton comes in to do his first bit about the new Mercedes V Red Bull drama that Netflix were of course eating up.

It was sad really, because you'd genuinely been hurt by George's and your fathers actions and there were people monopolizing off it.

"Y/N has always been a character in the Mercedes garage from when she was really young at age 11 up until she was a teen studying in the garage... and there's something really quite endearing about her when you talk to her" he starts and you smile, Will used to baby sit you around the paddock in his free time when Toto was busy during the races.

"I've known Y/N for 10 years now, as long as her dad's been in the sport and she a bright girl"

"There was no surprise when she came and told me she'd enrolled into university to do engineering. I would also remember Toto shaking his head, asking what she would even use it for"

"I think when she got that degree, she would have asked him for a job and he's declined, which is where Red Bull and Christian Horner come into things"

"Thanks Will, just pause there for a second! Okay so when we edit this, we need Christian Horner straight after nodding and saying Hello" the script writer says and his assistant nods writing it down on the paper she was holding.

You eventually left, seeing what goes into the creativity behind the episodes before getting bored and wanting to go back to the hotel.

Max agreed he'd fly you on his Jett wherever you wanted, and in all honestly you didn't know where to go. It wasn't like you wanted to go home to your dad. And you were fresh out of university so you didn't exactly have your own place.

Lewis, you knew would take you in a heart beat but he was going to LA for the week before the Las Vegas GP and you wanted to go to the UK, your home.

You pick up your phone scrolling through your contacts before finding the one you wanted to call. It rings a few times before a bubbly and energetic voice answers.

"Hello Darling, are you all okay?" Geri says to you, you could practically here her smile through the phone.

"Hi, Geri..." you say a little timidly.

"What's wrong, do you need me and Christian to come get you?" she asks.

"No, no. I just I dont really have anywhere to go until Vegas and I w-" you start but don't need to say anymore before Geri interrupts.

"Oh honey, our home is always open to you. Your a great help around the house too, especially with the kids. Call that garden view rooms yours from now on okay! In fact when we get back I'll have a key made for you, Christian can we do that?" she explains before her voice gets more distant as if she's pulled the phone away from herself.

"Do what?" you hear Christians voice ask muffled from the distance.

"Get Y/N a spare key, when we are back obviously" Geri asks.

"She doesn't have one already. I thought I gave her the spare..." Christian offer's and then mumbles about how he must have forget.

"Anyway darling that room is yours okay. Don't worry" Geri says making tears come into your eyes.

"Thank you Geri, really. I" you say and immediately the older woman can tell that your getting upset.

"Oh no sweetheart, don't get upset. It's okay" she tells you.

"I'm just really thankful"

"I know, hunny. But i've got to go Max is needing an escape route from an interview. But I'm sending him straight to you and he's gonna drive us to the hotel to get our stuff" Geri says and you hang up after thanking her a few more times.

You hung up, sighing happily before looking around you. You lock eyes with someone across the paddock.

George, of course it was George. You braced yourself for him to come up to you, trying to apologize and grovel.

But to your surprise he stayed where he was with Alex and Lando who was talking to the pair of them rather animatedly. He gave you a nod and a small smile, stopping walking making Alex and Lando also stop and continue that conversation stationary.

That told you everything. From the nod to the smile, he finally accepted that you'd come to him when you were ready.

Now you could concentrate on Vegas and Abu Dhabi and getting those points to finalize Max's year.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog

[charmedbystars]

for the plot...? pt 2!!!

pairing: 42-miles x reader

summary: a little meet up after your risky text.

content: no warnings!

a/n: im surprised you guys got me to write a part 2, it's pretty short tho..

part one here!

it was the 2nd of january. just hours after celebrations for the new year and people wishing for the next 366 days (leap year!) to bring them good luck and health. of course on the 1st everything was closed, everyone celebrating new beginnings with their loved ones, but now everyone is back to work a day later. 

so on the 2nd of january, you walked out of your apartment with the motive that you will get your healthy relationship for 2024. you didn’t even have to eat grapes under the table and you’re already on a move. 

walking up to the diner that you both used to eat at 24/7, you could already see him sitting at the booth. you felt a little bit of shivers go down your spine, the feeling that this could potentially work out or not. so pulling the door open and walking right in, shuffling into the booth that you both always sit at, you sit across from him. 

there’s a pause in the air, it was like the whole world was moving in slow motion. you honestly didn’t even know how to look him in the eyes. it was as if there was a big mystery, like where did the person who got all the courage to send that risky text go? because they were gone right now. out of the corner of your eyes, you could see miles lean back into the booth, crossing his arms before sighing out, “i’m here cuz i wanted to talk. don’t think that i jus be responding to texts for nothing.”

“i know, i know… i’m jus kinda nervous,” you fidgeted with your hands.

“you got nothing to worry about ma. you know i’ve always been yours,” and with that little line said, you had to stop yourself from breaking into a full smile. 

“i think i’m just nervous of going into this and it ending it like last time,”

“whatever happened last time was my fault. i didn’t try hard enough to fight for you, for us. i wanna start working on us now. i’ll make the time, mi corazon,” he reached his hand across the table, grabbing your fidgeting fingers and taking a hold of them. 

“miles, i don’t want you to take all the blame. there would be times that i wouldn’t hear you out-”

you got cut off, “i don’ wanna hear that. it wasn’t your fault.”

you just nodded before intertwining your fingers together, “i just want this to work… its been months and i still love you,”

“i love you too, never stopped,” and him saying that felt like a weight was taken off your shoulders. it was as if someone hit pause on a movie and they finally hit play again. 

“okay… then we got a lot we need to catch up on and this time extra dates and hangouts, maybe even sleepovers!” you started rambling off. 

“i’ll make sure to do allat,” 

“you promise?”

“i promise, my love.”

“pinky promise?” you grinned. earning an eye roll from him before he stuck out his pinky finger towards you. interlocking pinkies together was all you needed for that bit of confirmation. 

you two were soon interrupted, looking up to the waiter approaching with a milkshake and two straws, “here you two go,” and dropping it off at the table. 

“you remembered?”

“how could i forget?”

looks like this new year is turning out pretty good for you.

[ferrstappen]

accidentally referencing them as "my" with max please!

what are we doing here? - MV1

The only clear thing between you and Max is that neither of you knew what you were.

Friends? Very close friends? Situationship? Love each other but afraid to make a move?

So many ways to describe it, but still moving between blurred lines, where you snuck out of his hotel room before someone came knocking on the door to wake him up or brief him as he got ready to leave, going out with your friends to a bar where you'd start acting as close friends, but as alcohol started burning your throats and clouding your judgement, his arm found home around your shoulders and your head nuzzled on his neck, loving how he shivered and smiled whenever your lips curled up at something you said or left a quick kiss on his neck.

Everybody knew there was something going on, and no, your friends knew it wasn't just kissing and sneaking around, it was deeper, something that neither you nor Max were willing to accept and act on it.

Months went by and it didn't change. You were exclusive, the thought of looking at someone else didn't cross your mind, but the mere idea of Max sharing time and space with beautiful women from all around the world, it was mind boggling for you.

Unbeknownst to you, Max felt the same rush of blood to his head whenever someone in the paddock started a conversation with you, standing a little too close for his liking, knowing his male equals enough to be sure they wanted to have you to themselves, and he couldn't do anything to stop that.

Well, he could do one thing, but for him it wasn't even a possibility, not wanting to leave the small paradise you had created, with no problems, no labels, no feelings... he'd be damned if he vocalized that it was a problem not having you to himself every day with no excuse, just calling you by your name like he was any other man in your life, and if he expressed his feelings were beyond a simple friendship, he wanted it all.

And so did you, you wanted to walk hand in hand with Max and it being familiar, not getting surprised looks. you wanted for him to claim you just like he had claimed your heart and body. you craved for him to look for you after a race, holding his helmet and symbolically kissing his lips in front of every camera, every screen who was watching.

All those thoughts were wandering as the both of you were talking before the race, with his fireproofs hanging low on his waist and you trying to fix a loose strand of hair, not caring that it was futile since he'd be putting on his helmet in no time.

Then, a woman you had barely crossed paths with came along, giving Max a tight hug and wishing him good luck, telling him to not go too crazy on the track for the sake of her husband.

Huh.

"Oh, i have seen you so many times before and we haven't been introduced! Max what are you waiting for?" Geri Halliwell, beautiful and elegant as ever, asked Max who was caught off guard.

The words left Max's lips without a second thought, a worry, and it felt so natural: "This is (Y/N), she's my girl,"

My girl.

He didn't even flinch, placing his hand on your waist as Geri kept commenting you were such a good looking couple, complemented each other so well, that you must be so proud, and you really were, everyone could see it.

"I'll leave you both, but I'll find you sweetheart on the garage when the race starts and the boys go do their thing, okay?" Geri said to you, leaving you a bit dumbfounded but agreeing to what she said, leaving you and Max.

His hand didn't leave you waist, it only changed its position as you turned to face him.

"I'm your girl?" Your head tilted a bit, trying to read his expression.

His cheeks flushed and he was insecure for the first time, his blue eyes avoiding yours, but lovingly accepting when your hand found its place on his cheek. "I like it, how it sounds,"

In the middle of loud noises, screens full of statistics and people calling for Max, you took his hand in yours and left a chaste kiss on his lips before sending him off to get ready and get in the car.

For the first time, Max wanted the race to be over as soon as possible, adrenaline rushing but not because of the vibrations of the car and crowds cheering, but because of what was waiting for him after the finish line.

his girl.

[upsidedownmvnson]

midnight ideas | eddie munson smut

warnings: sex, unprotected, oral (f receiving), friends to lovers, minimal plot

AN: im so down bad, but its my birthday so happy day to us all

It was midnight when you knocked on the trailer door, but you knew Wayne wasn't home, and you'd never felt bad about waking Eddie up before. He probably wasn't even sleeping. Lights flicked on and off in the windows before Eddie swung the door open, clad only in sweatpants and leaning on the door, looking a little too hot for a best friends' comfort.

But that didn't matter.

You were here to be a freak.

Here to ask something weird from your best friend, that probably crossed a line or two.

"I need a favour," you asked before any greetings were exchange. You'd biked from your house, which was far enough that you thought you looked a bit like a mess, but from Eddie's perspective you were hot as fuck. Your clothes were all unaligned, and your hair was a mess, like you knew he fantasized about threading his hair through it. "I need you to leave hickeys on my chest."

Eddie looked at you, as if waiting for you to say more. "Okay, well come in. But I'm gunna need a little more context."

"You know that guy I was seeing who just stopped calling and stopped coming by, well he's moved on already, it's been like a minute..."

"A month."

"A minute." You waved Eddie off, sitting on his couch casually like you weren't just asking your best friend to put his mouth all over you. "And I didn't even really like him but then he was like 'sure you do' when I said I have a date tonight." You scoffed and crossed your arms, rolling your eyes at the audacity of the man you had lied to.

"Did you have a date tonight?"

"Not the point."

Eddie laughed. "And you need, what? Proof?"

"Something like that."

Out of nowhere you pulled your shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him. You still had a bra on, purple and flattering, but Eddie was stunned into silence. He tried to speak, but all the words got caught in his throat, leaving him to just stare wide eyed at the presentation before him.

"Anyway, I don't want them on my neck because I don't need to broadcast this to everyone but..." you looked at Eddie who was staring at your boobs, not moving a muscle. Both of his hands placed neatly on his lap. "Oh c'mon, don't be a baby."

"I-I'm not, I just..." Eddie's eyes flashed up to your face, meeting you where you were looking at him. "You're beautiful."

You smiled. "Thanks Eds."

When he didn't move again, you swatted his hands off his lap, and you spun around to sit on his lap facing him. Your hands were on his shoulders, holding yourself steady on him. Eddie's voice was lost again, and his hands hovered in the air behind you, unsure of where to touch. Beneath you, Eddie was already rock hard, his wildest fantasies were literally falling right into his lap, but you didn't feel it yet.

"Obviously you don't have to," you said, back arching slightly into him, your bodies kept apart by only your bra. Everywhere skin connected to Eddie made your skin burn. He was warmth. He was comfort and warmth and home, and you were waiting for him to sink his teeth into you.

The threat of losing this closeness to you made him put his hands on your hips, the roughness of his skin was delicious against the softness of yours. Even touching you made his cock twitch in his sweatpants, but he was hidden behind the band.

"Just give me a second to process this baby," he said, he'd never called you that before and it made you clench, but it also made your heart flutter.

The tension of waiting for him made a knot in your abdomen build, and you felt yourself getting wet over the situation you'd put yourself in. You'd never thought about, but looking at Eddie like this, and thinking about him like this, was really making you horny. If he tried, you'd probably let him do more than kiss you.

Eddie's thumbs ran soothingly across your rib cages, looking up at you, his beautiful eyes looking at you like this made things feel different. You weren't thinking about some loser who didn't call you, you were thinking about Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was taking over your senses. And then he did it. He reached forward and kissed a small section of your collarbone, before gently bringing it into his mouth, sucking a sinful little kiss into this skin.

Eddie hands trailed up your back slowly, shivers replaced his heat on your body. His lips were still attached to you, sucking slowly and sweetly on your collarbone. His hands around you kept you close, preventing you from shying away, but you wanted to be close anyway. You want him to keep kissing you like this. You wanted him to kiss you everywhere.

You moved your hands to his hair, practically coddling him and keeping him close to you, tugging at fistfulls everytime he switched to a new location to kiss. You shimmied in his lap, making him bite you lightly, and grip you tighter in his hands. It may have been a warning, but you ignored it and moved again, this time moaning quietly.

"If you don't stop that you're gunna start something you can't finish," he mumbled, hands moved again, gripping your hips just tight enough to hold you still.

"You know what would really piss that guy off?" you mumbled, and Eddie flinched at the words. He didn't really want to be thinking of the other man on your mind right now. "Was if he thought you and I really did it."

"How so?" Eddie replied, but reattached himself to the soft felsh peaking out of your bra. He wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

"I don't know," you mused, but you did. "Maybe I can wear that short little skirt to school, and maybe you can leave hickeys... I don't know, on my thigh?"

Eddie froze.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking up at you.

Your judgement was so clouded with lust for your best friend, it was pathetic.

"Please," you begged, pouting in a way you knew would make him fold.

But you didn't really need to, Eddie nodded softly and quickly, swallowing his nerves. you got off him, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Eddie kept staring, he discovered your lack of panties without warning, and couldn't look away from the prettiest sight he'd ever scene. You unclipped your bra saying, "Guess we might as well take this off too."

"Come here," he said, holding out his hand and gesturing you back over by curling his two middle fingers towards himself. "On the couch."

You laid down, head on the armrest, suddenly a little shy at the prospect of having Eddie kissing you between the legs.

You mean... on the legs...

Eddie was on his knees, in-between your spread legs, leaning on the back of the couch so he could lean over you a little bit. One of your legs was draped over his, and he ran his hand up it, staring at the beautiful sight until it burned into a memory he won't forget.

"Are you really sure?" he asked, "this is intimate."

"You don't have to," you said, embarassed.

"Oh, I want to." His hand stopped trailing on your hip. "But I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me later."

His voice was laced with hints of vulnerability, you could hear it. You could see the way his head hung a little lower when he said that. You leaned up, placing your lips on his for a very soft, tender kiss.

"Eddie, I always feel the most comfortable when I'm with you."

And he couldn't even process the compliment. He kissed you again, casual, as if this wasn't his first and second kiss with his best friend that he's been crushing on forever.

He scooched his knees back so he could lay down a little, lowering his head to fall between your legs. He put a hand under your knee, lifting your leg ever so gently towards his mouth, looking at you like he expected you to pull away. But you said nothing.

He kissed the soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, above your knee. You watched him, the sight of him so close to your heat was unforgettable.

Eddie sucked a little spot, the purple mark left was small and shallow. He wasn't leaving them to be seen anybody else, and you could tell. But it felt so good and you didn't care, you kinda, didn't want to share. Eddie kissed a little higher, and did the same thing. And then moved... one kiss higher. And right when you were about to ask him to kiss you, really kiss you, he switched sides, repeating them same, slow, tantalizing kisses.

Meanwhile, Eddie was going fucking insane. Your leg was in his fucking mouth. Things would never be platonic again. He had to pretend he couldn't smell how aroused, and wet you were. Had to pretend he wasn't trying to rub his dick on the couch cushions just to get an iota of relief. It was his big performance.

"Eddie..." you said, and when he looked up at your big pleading eyes, the lust coming off you in waves, he knew.

This time, he didn't stop going higher, he trailed kissed all the way up your thigh, bit your hip unexpectedly to make you gasp, and then dove into your pussy, kissing where your pussy met your mound. Eddie was kissing you like this and looking up at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You moaned, the anticipation alone making you writhe.

He licked up and down your folds, letting himself taste and explore every inch. You were so wet.

He snuck his hand under his chin, teasing your hole with one proding digit. It slipped in, your walls wet, and warm, and tight, and the sensation around his finger nearly made him blow his load.

His tongue slid perfectly over your clit and you jerked, moaning sharply and bucking your hips into his face, the pleasure of it sending sparks down your thighs. He repeated the same move, using one hand to spread your lips open and take note of where he was touching. He was memorizing you. Memorizing each and every move that made you moan. He wanted to make you cum so bad. Wanted you to cum for him.

"Feels so good, Eddie."

Groaning at the sound of his name, he slipped in another finger, making you moan again. The slight stretching of learning someone knew was always your least favourite part, but turns out, you just needed Eddie. He made you feel good because he wanted to, he was happy to have his head between your legs, eating you out like he was starving, and with no promise of sex.

But you were pretty sure you were going to fuck him. If he wanted you, he could take you.

He sucked your clit again, and your walls tightened. He curled one of the fingers inside you gently, experimenting, and when you gasped, he continued on that spot, hitting it again and again and again while you got impossibly tight around his fingers, moaning and writhing like a fucking pornstar. He was so in love.

"I want to cum," you moaned, "can I? Please?"

You were asking him to cum. Eddie was dizzy. All the sensations, being squeezed, smelling you, tasting you, the delicious pain of you gripping his hair like you were going to fall... it was all too much. Too sweet. Too hot. Eddie bucked his own hips into the couch, desperate to be touched.

He pulled away just enough to growl, "you better cum on my face," and then dive back into his clitoral assault, kissing and licking it like it was the answer to his prayers.

Which really, it was.

And you came, loudly, moaning loud enough for the whole damn park to know what Eddie just did to you. Through every wave of pleaser, you and Eddie had your eyes locked on each other. This was what you really wanted. You didn't care about some prick, you cared about Eddie. It's always been Eddie.

You kept moaning as Eddie continued to massage and suck you through your orgasm, stopping only when you tried tugging him up to you. He held himself above you, letting you pull his face down to kiss him. All tongue and teeth, more desperate than anything. Eddie could love you after he fucked you. The way you looked at him, blissed out and still squirming your hips, he knew it wasn't over.

He thanked god it wasn't over yet.

"Go to my room," he said, kissing you again, taste of your sweet still on his lips. And evidence of your orgasm remained unwiped, glistening on the skin all around his mouth. You did what he said obediently, almost running to the room with him on your tail.

You started crawling onto the bed, putting your knees on the edge, but before you could climb on, a large hand pushed you into between your shoulder blades, making you land doggy style and exposing your ass and pussy to Eddie. He had taken his pants off, but really couldn't wait one more second. The bed dipped behind you, and you felt him pushing the tip of his cock against your unsuspecting cunt. You gasped, waiting patiently for him to do. The suspense of his dick slowly trailing up your folds without penetrating you was going to drive you crazy.

"Can I do it, baby?" he asked, running the tip up and down your sopping wet folds. He felt how tight you were against two fingers, he was going to be fighting not to finish fast, he knew that. "Please, beautiful, let me do it."

His dick hit the divet of your hole, and he groaned, stopping himself to wait for your answer.

"Eddie," you moaned, the feeling of him pressed against your core wasn't enough. You looked over your shoulder, glassy eyes begging for more relief. He could've blown at the sight of your cock-drunk eyes. And he hadn't even fucked you yet. "Please, fuck me."

Not wasting another second he pushed himself in, fighting playfully against the tightness of your walls. You moaned, shocked at how thick he was, but loving every second. You welcomed him in, pussy so tight and wet and fucking warm that he had to take a few deep breaths before he could fully push himself in.

He pulled entirely out, to slowly push entirely in a few times, taking his time to stretch you before doing anything harder. He said another prayer right then, a prayer that this wasn't the only time. He needed you, and you needed him. And you were already a moaning mess in his arms.

Once you were comfortable, he started really thrusting, keeping the pace steady. He had to close his eyes and take deep breaths again. Just looking at you while he hit it from behind? Too much.

Eddie slapped your ass once. And then finally looked down to see what it looks like. He loved watching your ass jiggle as he fucked you, your cheeks slamming against his abdomen.

"M-Maybe he'll see how-"

"Enough!" Eddie couldn't hear you bring up that fucking idiot one more time. "I'm gunna fuck that guy right out of your mind," Eddie grabbed one of your arms making your chest fall into the bed. He grabbed the other and held them both captive in one of his hands, and used his other hands to slap you on the ass, hard. He did it three more times, your moaning egging him on. But when you started moaning his name, repeating it over and over, he knew he had to get you there. He wouldn't last much longer, not with you intentionally squeezing your walls around him. He spanked you twice more more rough than the rest, followed by a smaller gentler tap. A small, good girl, without words.

Eddie squeezed your reddened ass cheek, as he hammered into you, but released to use his hand to grip a fistful of your hair, pushing you down deeper into the mattress. Your ass was up in the air, while Eddie fucked your pussy relentlessly. He was so deep, hitting parts of you that no one had ever touched. You wanted to praise him. You wanted to thank him for fucking you so good, and tell him how good you felt. You wanted to shower him with praises for fucking you better than anyone ever had, but the only thing that came out was a string of moan and unintelligible syllables of unfinished words.

But you didn't need to say it anyway, Eddie knew.

He could tell by the way your cunt squeezed him greedily, or everytime you caught his eye over your shoulder, glossy and pleasured, how he'd like to see you more often.

It was starting to ache how deeply he pounded you, when he suddenly let go of your hair so he could wrap an arm under you, and get his fingers on your clit. His body was pushed against yours even more, his dick staying deeper and repeatedly hitting a spot that was making you stupid. Eddie saw drool puddling at the corner of your mouth at the mattress, and your pussy dripped down both of your legs. He licked his lips at the sight. You unable to speak, drooling, moaning, and letting him have his fucking way with you.

"You're gunna cum," he said, a fact not a question. "All over this cock, fuck baby, you're so hot," Eddie was trying to keep it together but failing. He'd wanted this forever, and now that he had it, he wasn't going to last. "Are you gunna cum, baby?"

You nodded in his grip, but he held your hair tighter. He wanted to hear you. A strangled, "please," was what you managed.

"Good fucking girl, oh my god," Eddie praised, his fingers on your clit were softer in contrast to the deep pounding. The circles the rubbed over it were sensual, and hot, and going to make you explode. "Cum on my cock babe, do it." Eddie let go of your arms, and immediately they fell beside you, hands grabbing at the sheets pathetically. He grabbed one, and brought your own hand to your own clit. "And when you do," Eddie picked his pace up, gripping your hips in both hands now. "you're fucking mine."

It shouldn't have made you orgasm harder than you ever have in your life, but it did. The concept of Eddie owning your pussy all the time made you come all over him like he wanted, squeezing him so tightly that he couldn't help but bury it as deep as possible and coat your walls, holding your hips unwaveringly tight and pushing himself into you impossibly far to coax himself through his climax.

"Oh my fucking god," he mumbled, eyes closed and cock still buried deep inside you, twitching with sensitivity.

When he pulled out, you both moaned. You flipped over slowly, sitting upright on the bed.

"Eddie," you whispered, suddenly overthinking everything you just did. You couldn't lose Eddie, he was too important.

But he knew you. So he sat beside you, cooing and patting your hair. He kissed you on the cheek.

"Hey, listen," he said, scooping up a hand to hold and looking you in the eyes. His eyes were glassy from cumming so hard in you, but also filled with adoration and love. His gooey eyes could calm you from any state. Eddie encouraged you to stand, walking with you to the bathroom, hands locked tightly together. "I say we take a shower, make a snack, throw a movie on, and fall asleep. Hmm? How's that sound, petal?"

"Petal?"

"Pretty right?" He said, turning the shower on. "I figured I want something pretty, but not overdone. Babe is classic, but overdone."

"To call me?"

"To call my girlfriend," he said, you blushed but said nothing. He smiled. "Look, if you really came over here just to make some douche jealous that's fine, but... if you want me to love you, well, you already have that."

"I love you too, Eddie."

"Sorry it wasn't like, nicer." Eddie smiled at you, content to just be here with you. "For our first time, I mean."

You laughed, "no, it was perfect."

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hey,

Could you write an NBC Hannibal One-shot, where fem!reader was a surgeon like him, who worked along side him for a couple of weeks and later meets him after he nearly got crucified in Baltimore. After Hannibal get‘s released from the hospital, they start to get to know each other.Maybe in the end there is some fluff and smut (if you are comfortable)

Hannibal X Reader: Stitches and sweet kisses

Warnings: wounds, brief mentions of death, smut, fluff, penetration (p in v), mentions of oral, pet names, soft sex, rough sex, sub x dom (if you squint), praise kink, breeding kink, female reader, no use of y/n, female anatomy.

Word count: 2,7K

You were used to odd patients. It was a common occurrence in your line of work but you never expected this. He has been rushed in by an FBI officer and immediately taken to a room. He didn’t need any drastic surgery. His wounds were not extreme but he had lost a lot of blood and was having a hard time breathing. You should have handed him over to another doctor but the moment you laid eyes on him you’d recognized.

You only worked with him a week but you’d never forget him. You’d been one of the surgeons in the room when he lost his first patient. A little girl, no older than six. She had a tumor that needed to be removed but there had been complications during surgery. You couldn’t save her. Everyone took the loss hard but it seemed to have hit Hannibal the hardest. A day after the incident you saw him walk into the main office with his resignation. You never saw him again. 

Until today that is.

There were holes in his palms and a large purple bruise around his neck that told you that there had been a rope around it. Your curiosity peaked the more you worked on healing him. He looked awfully vulnerable like this. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity. Once you’d fixed him up as best you could and put on some medication for his pain you made your way to the FBI agent outside his door. You expected they wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to know but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“What happened to him?”

“Someone tried to kill him. Jack Crawford was the one who found him. They say the guy had him positioned like Christ on the cross. I mean what kind of sick fuck does that?”

You turned back to look at Hannibal through the small glass of the door. He was out cold due to his medication but his face held a deep sadness in it.

“What kind of sick bastard indeed.”

The days passed quickly. Whenever you weren't working on healing people or helping around the hospital you found yourself hanging around Hannibal's room. You’d go in to check on his vitals but you’d soon find yourself pulling a chair next to him, your eyes traveling over his face as he slept. He was always unconscious when you were around but you couldn’t help but talk to him. As weird as it sounds it felt easy to be around him. He was the small break in the chaos of your life.

One day when you’d been taking his vitals his eyes fluttered open. You watched him look at you, his eyes traveling around the room before falling back on your face. You gave him a small smile, continuing your work. He watched you take his pressure and jot some things down on his clipboard.

“I bet you don’t remember me.”

“I never forget a face.”

“Some memory you must have.”

“It normally doesn't fail me. Though I do have a hard time with names. I can't seem to recall yours.”

You introduced yourself to him with a smile. 

“Ah yes, how could I forget.”

Hannibal continued to look at you as you moved around the room. A small frown made its way to his face as he began to remember when he’d last seen you. He would never forget that day no matter how hard he tried. His heart rate spiked a bit at the memory causing you to look at him in concerne.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. Remembering is all.”

You seemed to understand what he meant immediately, your own face twisting to match the sadness he felt inside. He didn’t remember much about you but he knew you were a good doctor. He’d walked past you on the day after the surgery and had noticed the tears in your eyes. You’d felt the loss of the girl just as much as he had. But unlike him you’d continued your work.

“How do you do it?”

“Sorry?”

“How do you keep working after…”

He couldn’t even bear to say it.

“It wasn’t easy. I took a month off. Started going to therapy before finally feeling ready to come back.”

You tugged up a chair, taking a seat next to him. Hannibal turned to look at you, his eyes focused on your face. 

“I’ve lost a lot of people but I've saved a lot too. I guess that's just how it is, you know? Do what you can and try your best to keep going. Therapy helps a lot. I still go every week, it helps to talk to someone about your shit you know?”

Hannibal let out a small laugh causing you to look up at him with curiosity.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No it’s just that…well…i’m a psychiatrist.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I became one after I stopped being a surgeon.”

“How is it? I bet it must be hard.”

“It is. Some days are easier than others. But it’s like you said, I help people. That feels good.”

You move closer to his bed, your hand moving to grab his. Hannibal watches you tug his hand into yours. You look down at the bandages that cover his palm, slowly beginning to remove them. He observes the way you trace your finger over his stitches gently.

“You’re healing really well. I’ll probably be able to remove these in a couple days. How does your neck feel?”

The purple had faded but you could still see small marks where the rope had sunk into his skin.

“Is it still tender?”

You leaned over his body, your fingers moving across his throat. Hannibal lifted his head, giving you better access. From this angle he could see very little detail of your face. His breath seemed to give out for a moment, his mind entirely focused on your proximity to him. You turned your focus over to his face, your eyes meeting him. There was a deep gentleness in the way you gazed at him, it made him feel exposed. But not in a bad way. 

“You okay?”

“Yes. I apologize. I’m distracted.”

“It’s alright. I have to go but if you need anything just tell them to call me okay?”

“Alright. Thank you.”

A couple of days later Hannibal was finally released. You’d walked into his room expecting it to be empty but instead you found him standing near the window. You walked over to him, stopping beside him. He turned to look at you, observing as you watched the world outside for a moment before turning to face him.

“I must tell you that as much as I love your company we aren’t a hotel.”

Hannibal smiled at you, causing you to mirror his expression.

“I’m glad to leave this room. I couldn’t take the white walls anymore. Though I must admit I'm sad I will not be seeing you everyday.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You enjoyed your time with Hannibal immensely but you’d always thought that when he was healed your daily chats would come to a bitter end. Never in your wildest imagination would you have thought that he’d want to continue your contact outside of the hospital. 

“Would you join me for dinner? It’s been awhile since i’ve had a proper meal and i would love your company.” 

“I’d be delighted to. What restaurant did you have in mind?”

“Actually I was thinking I could do the cooking. It’s one of my passions you see. I’ve missed it just as I've missed having some real food.”

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you Dr Lecter?”

“You can’t even begin to imagine.”

He had been right about that. After your dinner you and Hannibal continued to keep in touch. With time your relationship grew into a friendship and soon enough you found yourself falling for the doctor. He wasn’t anything like you’d imagined him to be. He had a seemingly unlimited amount of knowledge that he was always eager to share with you. He’d have you over for dinner whenever he could, always enjoying the company and your fascination for his cooking. He’d come to your apartment from time to time, it had become a place where he could have a break from the hard days. You were always more than welcoming to him. And then one day he found himself sitting on your couch one evening, nursing a bottle of wine as the two of you listened to music. 

You were sprawled out on the couch, your legs resting on Hannibals. The only sound that could be heard was  of the music that played from your radio and your voice humming along to the tune. Hannibal took in the sight of you. Your eyes were closed, lips moving to form the lyrics of the song. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to share a home with you. His feeling for you should have startled him, after all he’d only known you for a little while. But there was this sort of connection he seemed to share with you. He often wondered why of all the possible doctors that could have attended him that day at the hospital you had been the one to heal him. Perhaps it was a way of some greater force telling him you were the missing piece he’d been searching for. 

Your eyes opened slowly at the feeling of Hannibal's hand on your thigh. You gave him a lazy smile, shifting your body up.

“What is it?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened, heart hammering inside your chest at Hannibal's blatant confession. Perhaps it was the wine you’d been drinking or maybe it was the adoring way Hannibal was gazing at you but in a flash you crawled over to him placing a soft kiss to his lips. It was a slow kiss, tender and full of emotion. Hannibal cupped your cheek keeping your lips attached to his until he felt like he couldn't’ breath. You break the kiss, panting for air. A giggle escapes your lips as you look at Hannibal watching the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles.

“You’re so beautiful. Did you know?”

You flushed at Hannibal's words, head moving to look down at your legs. Hannibal placed his finger under your chin forcing you to look into his eyes. You gaze up at him through your eyelashes, a blush littering your cheeks.

“No need to be shy, pretty girl. It’s just me.”

You didn’t know what had come over him but this Hannibal wasn’t one you were used to seeing. He seemed much less put together than usual. There was almost a homey quality to him. You lifted your body off the couch. Hannibal watched you stand his eyes gazing up at you curiously. You placed your hand out to him. He looked at your open palm for a moment before giving you his hand. You tugged him off the couch pulling him towards the hall.

“Where are you taking me dove?”

You turned to look at him with a sly grin, legs never stopping their movements.

“To my bedroom. Obviously.”

Hannibal was used to seeing you in a specific sort of light. Whenever you two would go out together you were always soft spoken and quiet, often opting to listen to him talk rather than initiating conversation. In the bedroom however you turned into a whole different person. 

Your pussy fluttered around his dick as he moved into you. Your head fell back on the pillow with a moan.

“Fuck you feel so good Hannibal.”

He moved slowly, trying his hardest to be as gentle as possible. He knew your body was starting to become sensitive after all the hours he’d put into teasing you. He’d made you cum on his tongue and fingers twice before allowing you to take him in your mouth. And after fucking your throat in such a rough pace that he'd managed to make tears well up in your eyes he wanted to show you he could be gentle too. Your legs wrapped around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into the skin of his ass.

“Hannibal deeper please i-ah ugh- want to feel you.”

“Shh dove, take it slow. Can’t have you tiring yourself out.”

Hannibal leaned down, his teeth finding the shell of your ear. You whimpered as he nibbled at the skin. Your fingers clawed at his bare back trying your hardest to make him move closer into you. You were insatiable for him. Completely at his mercy and he knew it. It's why he was taking things slow. Whispering sweet nothings to you and telling you how much of a good girl you were being to him. Every time he praised you he felt your pussy grip onto him like a vice. He enjoyed the feeling just as much as he enjoyed seeing you cum. But there were limits. And you were about to discover Hannibals.

In truth you didn't expect your words to affect him so much. It was more something that turned you on then something you thought he’d enjoy but the moment the words left your lips you knew you’d hit a nerve.

In the best way possible.

He was moving at a glacial pace and you just couldn't take it any longer. You grabbed his face pulling him into a rough kiss. You tugged at his bottom lip a smirk appearing on your features as he gazed at you in hunger.

“Want you to fill me up Hannibal. Want you to put a baby in me.”

That had been the tip of the iceberg. In a flash Hannibal had flipped you around his hand shoving your face into the pillow as he lined himself up with your entrance again. Your body jerked forward as he began to thrust into you. He was going so harshly you couldn’t help but grip at the sheets. Hannibal had, all of a sudden, become more vocal than he had been the entire night. 

“Feel so fucking good dear.”

His groans and grunts followed your screams of pleasure and pretty soon you were feeling your orgasm sneak up on you. Hannibal seemed to feel your need to cum his hand moving to grip at the flesh of your hips in an even harsher manner. He tugged you closer to his body, holding you still for a moment. He took in the feeling of your walls pulsating against him, his eyes closing.

“Hannibal please!”

How could he deny such a sweet thing like you? He couldn’t. So he started moving again, his free hand itching towards your clit. He maneuvered you in a way his tip could hit your g-spot perfectly and in a matter of seconds you were cumming around him. He continued to fuck into your body even as you sagged into the bed. You felt him twitch inside you before he came with a grunt of your name. 

After a while Hannibal pulled out of you, throwing his body next to yours. You lifted your head off the pillow to look at him observing his chest rise and fall rapidly as he tried to regain his breath. You shifted your body so that you were lying on your side, your legs angled in Hannibal's direction. He turned to look at you, giving you a smile before tugging you closer to him. He buried his noise in your hair taking in your scent. The two of you fell into easy slumber, both completely spent.

The next morning you woke up to a sweet smell. You rose for your bed tugging on a robe before making your way to the kitchen. You smiled as you caught sight of Hannibal. He was wearing your apron but his ass was completely on display for you. You walked over to him, giving him a sharp smack on the ass. He jumped at the action, turning to look at you. You simply grinned up at him.

“You cheeky thing.”

“You know you love it.”

He did in fact love it.

Actually, he loved everything about you.

“Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes.”

“Yum. How can I help?”

“Grab the eggs from the fridge for me.”

“Okay.”

The two of you moved in perfect union as if things had always been like this. And perhaps they always would be.

[shellshocklove]

❀ isa’s masterlist

➵ i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit! ➵ if you want to use any of my gifs, that’s okay ONLY WITH credit! ➵ this blog is a sideblog. if you're a minor don't follow me or interact with me! ➵ disclaimer: all characters depicted are 18+. most of my fics have adult themes, and are therefore not suitable for minors!!! ➵ feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 ➵ happy reading! <3

links: ao3 & gifs & fic recs

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

smut = *

❀ JOEL MILLER

✿ SERIES

* does anyone know where the love of god goes? | farm!joel miller (ongoing)

↳ crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

* brat! (36.7k) | brat tamer!joel (finished)

↳ joel is having a brat summer.

✿ ONE SHOTS

* heat lightning (5k) | boss!joel miller

↳ working late one friday night you help you boss joel destress.

* i wanna be your lover (15k) | 70s!pornstar!joel miller

↳ miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?

* wet nights (5.1k) | bfd!joel miller

↳ getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.

* dirty work (4k) | daddy!dom!joel

↳ joel’s work has been a bitch the last few weeks, but it’s nothing you can’t fix.

❀ LOGAN HOWLETT/WOLVERINE

✿ ONE SHOTS

* moanin' & groanin' (4.9k) | lumberjack!logan

↳ working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

* snapshot (8.6k) | old man!logan

↳ short on money for rent, your joke about starting an only fans account, to earn some extra cash, goes over logan's head. but when an accident with charles puts your life in danger, logan takes you up on your offer.

❀ PETER PARKER

✿ SERIES

* thick skull (40k) | mcu!college!peter parker – band AU & post!nwh (finished)

↳ your band, crimson goblins, just booked its first ever gig. there was just one problem. you didn't have a guitarist.

✿ ONE SHOTS

* conversation (4.1k) | college!peter parker

↳ peter parker is in the friendzone. and it sucks. especially when the girl he's in love with is dating his best friend. smack dab in the middle of a bad situation peter struggles to keep his feelings at bay when the girl of his dreams comes to him for advice about her failing relationship.

crush (1.2k) | frat!peter parker

↳ you accidently learn peter parker's secret.

that was the worst christmas ever! (1.6k)

↳ requested: maybe a blurb about peter freaking out on trying to find a gift for reader for christmas cause he waited until the last minute?

© shellshocklove

[wesstars]

can't rely on my heart

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: are people more likely to tell the truth while they’re drunk? wc: 800 tags: all characters involved are 18+. AU, they’re in some big city. wednesday and reader are childhood ‘friends.’ unresolved tension!!! a/n: i miss y’all 😭hope everyone is doing well!! welcome to another wednesday wednesday with the most amazing @evilwednesday. special good morning to @mindyswhore. @melrodrigo told me to hurry up haha. (let’s just ignore how I missed last week okay)

masterlist

1:28 am

come get your bitch.

Wednesday frowned at Yoko’s text. She wondered, briefly, who “your bitch” could ever be—unbidden, your grinning face came to mind, shining bright as a dying star. Wednesday hated it. It was stuff like this, knowing that your friends would ask Wednesday, of all people, to come pick you up, that was intolerable. Always popular yet with a genuine charm, you commanded attention wherever you were, so warm and dazzling that you eclipsed everything around you. You consistently crossed the line with Wednesday, since you really never knew when to stop. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her car keys.

***

You were giggling. It was insufferable: it had already been enough to go to the bar—a place with sticky floors that Wednesday turned her nose up at—and it was excruciating to have dragged you out, catching you from rolling your ankle on the pavement, so your glittering laugh really was the worst torture Wednesday was willing to endure. Yoko had pushed you unceremoniously into Wednesday, while Enid sent her a sympathetic glance and a promise to text. Wednesday was torn between keeping her distance, so you wouldn’t throw up on her shoes, and holding you upright so you wouldn’t cause a scene, but you made her decision for her.

“You’re so—sloppy,” Wednesday hissed, grabbing your elbow to stop you from careening into a pedestrian. You’d always been a lightweight, since your university days, where you’d always show up, drunk as a dog, knocking at Wednesday and Enid’s place. You would claim that you lost your address. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be over there at all, every little quirk you had being memorized by the apartment: your mug, your spare key, your book on how the biggest planets are made of the very same things that humans are. 

“Wednesday,” you said, leaning on her shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. “Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday… 

She scoffed. “Just be quiet.”

“I don’t want to,” you whined, being the absolute child that Wednesday thought you were. She let go of your arm, stalking towards her car without you. While she definitely thought of you as someone she could do without babysitting, she still looked back to make sure you were following. You were tracing your crooked path on the sidewalk, scuffing your shoes as you trailed your fingers on every streetlight and sign pole that you passed. Something licked its way through Wednesday’s veins, destructive like fire.

“You…” Wednesday ignored you. Why had she parked so far? The sooner you crashed on her couch, the sooner you’d leave her alone. 

“You, with that beautiful smile—” gods, just how many drinks did you have?—“Hold on.” 

“I don’t smile.” Wednesday waited, for some reason, as you stumbled forward, catching up to her while the drinks caught up to you.

Ignoring her, you whispered, “I have something to say to you,” showing all your teeth in a dopey smile. When you leaned in, Wednesday saw how the shine of the streetlights caught on your rosy cheeks, glowing.

“You’re even prettier when you’re all the way here, with me, not just in my head.”

Wednesday felt her dead, still heart jolt with an artificial electricity, as if you’d pressed both hands to her chest and yelled clear! It was a startlingly alive experience, being touched by such a startlingly alive person. Every breath was hard to take, as you looked down. The streetlight cast a warm glow, lighting up your outline. You smelled too much like alcohol for such an admission, one where she could feel the cold metal of your arrow, Apollo ablaze, press up against her ribs.

It was weird, how one never really does know the answer to an unspoken question until it was right in front of them, burning. 

“You’re not going to remember this,” Wednesday said quietly. “I’m telling you now, so you can understand why.” She looked into your eyes; they were surprisingly clear for someone so inebriated. 

Your voice was a whisper, nearly drowned out by a car rushing past. “Why what?”

Wednesday looked up at you. You’d stopped right in front of her car, an accuracy unbecoming of how drunk you seemed to be. She placed a hand on you, your shoulder this time, and yanked you down to her height. You were so close, now, your nose brushing hers, and she felt you take a breath. “Why I don’t mind you being this close.” She hoped you could smell the jasmine perfume she wore. “Why I don’t mind when you cross the line.” Your hair fell into your eyes. “Why I’m driving you home.”

She stepped back, opening the car door and shoving you in. You leaned your temple on the seat, head tilted back to meet her eyes.

“I know, Wednesday.”

--

a/n cont'd: something something yearning something something

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[rightpastnowhere]

more thoughts on TLOVM season 3 episode 3. still insane.

PART TWO: that TLOVM perc'ahlia scene, mostly in terms of its TLOVM context, with some campaign 1 comparisons

spoilers below the cut for TLOVM AND campaign one moments that will likely happen this season lol

her initiating this fling is fascinating to me. we all know vex has a fear of commitment and being hurt by relationships right? EXCEPT!! except, i think this is her trying to deal with that. which is insane but it makes sense for her in TLOVM. To Me.

cause like. in the first two episodes we have MULTIPLE close calls with percy, which are technically happening all in the same day?? and you have vex, who's admitted to a creepy fey and herself that her heart is not her own, who takes these, processes these, and says, "thinking i lost him even now was awful; if i start a relationship with him, it will only hurt me 100 times worse in the end. so i'll just fuck him casually and pretend i have no emotions about it whatsoever."

which i think can have TWO possible explanations, yknow beyond the way she's afraid of relationships and considering herself a bad omen - explanations that explain why sex is a line she's willing to cross before emotional confession, almost instead of it, whereas in the campaign she won't cross either.

one: she's trying to convince herself that she can just. make it casual. force it into something different, choke the feelings down until they fade away eventually. i don't have as many thoughts on this idea but it DOES bring me insurmountable pain to think about.

two: she's basically struck a bargain with herself.

after two episodes of multiple close calls with percy, it’s almost like she’s trying to wrestle herself into a deal. she looks at her hungry heart which doesn't belong to her anymore, and is terrified of the decision it wants to make, terrified of the idea of a relationship with percy that will one day crumble, and she says, “okay. one thing. we can have one thing. we can have a casual fling, some friends with benefits, we’ll know what it’s like to kiss him and have sex with him and even wake up next to him but that’s it. we’ll pretend we’re asleep in the morning. we’ll distance ourself from him the next day. we’ll pull back, keep enough of a barrier to not let him any closer, but sex can be casual, right? it doesn’t have to mean anything. it won't mean anything. it's casual.”

and even then it’s only “casual” in the sense that they’ve agreed not to say anything about how they feel. they both know how the other feels, they’ve said it in every way you could without explicitly saying i love you. percy downright admits that he feels something and knows there is something between them and he wants emotional connection. vex says that she cares for him, that she can’t say what he wants to hear, and that everyone she’s ever loved, it ends badly - implying, all but directly saying, that he’s one of those people!! she ends up admitting it even more directly than he does!!!! this is so sad it’s almost hilarious. they’re both admitting and committing to the facade of a casual fling. vex because she’s terrified, and percy because he would do anything for her.

she would rather have a facade of a casual relationship, would rather ask percy to help her lie, help her pretend this means nothing, even as she lies there and admits that it does mean something but she's too scared to let it become anything significant. and even that statement, where she refuses to show vulnerability, is showing so much vulnerability. she's trusting percy with this fear she's kept close to her chest, she's trusting percy with her fear of trust. asking percy to hold that fear and keep it safe, hold it close to his chest, right where his heart sits. where her heart sits, now. the amount of trust it takes to do that. the way those words had to be clawed out of her, only when she was lying down, hurt, and couldn't run anymore. she trusts percy with this thing she's only trusted her brother with, if that - and at the same time, she can't even trust herself with loving and being loved without ruining it all.

it’s like. if she doesn’t get too close, it won’t hurt as much when he eventually, inevitably, leaves. whether he dies or walks away or makes a deal with a demon or a death goddess or whatever, he will leave, because they always leave, and the further she is, the less distance she’ll have to fall from. the softer the landing will be.

and then, if this is going the way i think it is, if we are building up to glintshore and the resurrection, then it won’t be soft at all. percy is going to die, and it is going to hurt vex so fucking horribly, and the distance will have meant nothing. all it will do is give her less memories to hold onto, now that he's gone. she will not hurt for the size of the hole in her heart, but rather for the lack of memory she has to fill it. a hole torn further open by the weight of the breadth of love unspent.

and then they're going to try and bring him back. and she will beg for another chance to do it right this time. she will give him her heart and everything she has, because she tried to do the casual distance, and she's learned that it hadn't done anything but hurt the both of them.

but she's not going to make that same mistake again.