#just kinda thinking aloud do tell me if this makes sense

[vickyvicarious]

Today's entry is another one with strong comparisons to be made between the asylum pair and the castle pair. We start off with Renfield-Dracula comparisons: both his eating other creatures in order to gain life and his cheerful attitude here remind me of the Count. Whenever Dracula had won some new victory over Jonathan (typically by doing something offscreen to foil his latest effort) he tended to get very cheerful and charming. Renfield has circumvented Seward's refusal to give him a cat by eating all his birds and then restarting his experiment, a victory of sorts for him, and is correspondingly quite cheerful.

But it's Seward's response to this behavior which is especially reminiscent of Dracula, and chillingly so: he drugs Renfield to sleep and then goes through his belongings.

I gave Renfield a strong opiate to-night, enough to make even him sleep, and took away his pocket-book to look at it.

While it's never explicitly confirmed, I have a theory that Dracula had been exercising control over Jonathan's sleep throughout his stay in the castle. There are repeated instances where he tells Jonathan to rest well or to sleep soon and Jonathan always follows up with confirmation that direction was followed (when other times there are hints towards unsteady sleep/nightmares). And while it isn't as directly a scene of magical influence, the day Dracula stole Jonathan's papers and other belongings was while also he was locked in a room, sleeping.

That's creepy enough, and it speaks to Seward respecting no boundaries at all with his patient, but the part that sticks out to me most of all is the way this is a direct parallel to a worst-case scenario for Jonathan. Because what is described above is quite simply: the captor, having noticed his captive is keeping notes that he doesn't understand, forces his captive into a vulnerable unconscious state and takes said notes to read and use for his own purposes.

Isn't that exactly what Jonathan lived in such dread of happening, all that time? If Dracula had ever spotted Jonathan writing in his journal, I'm sure it would have happened. And while he wouldn't understand the exact meaning of the shorthand (much the same way Seward doesn't initially understand all Renfield's figures) the gist of the idea would be communicated (he'd realize Jonathan is keeping a secret record and the implications of that, much the same way Seward here is able to finally put together the pieces and figure out Renfield's general ideas). And what comes next? Well, it wouldn't be good for Jonathan, obviously.

Seward doesn't punish Renfield for what he discovers. Not directly. But his reaction is just as terrible because the realization tempts him all the more to indulge his 'mad scientist' instincts. He wants to make a name for himself via Renfield's heretofore unknown madness, and it doesn't really matter how Renfield feels about that or is treated in pursuit of that. Oh, sure, he confines himself here to speculation about whether it might not be worth it to see how far he'd go - tells himself I must not think of this. And yet he's incredibly attracted to the idea (re:dracula did so well with putting voice to how EAGER he is and how reluctantly he pulls himself back - and then only partially before dipping his toes in again), and is already behaving well outside of any appropriate motivation. And so... while Renfield isn't going to suffer in the same way Jonathan would have from the discovery of his diary, he still is worse off. By completing his long-awaited thought and coming up with a name for Renfield ("a zoöphagous (life-eating) maniac") Seward has fully finished shifting him into a mental category entirely separate from all the other patients, and it's definitely not one that has his best interests in mind. He's possessive, too invested, dehumanizing (yesterday's "my friend" has become today's "my homicidal maniac"), and it's all just not good for either one of them.

I think Seward realizes that this isn't good for his own mental health as well, but he can't help longing for it. This is getting more into just me musing aloud here, but... A while ago he spoke about relative dangers of selfish vs. unselfish people, and concluded that people who dedicate themselves to a duty are more dangerous because they throw themselves in fully. And yet that's something he seems to be longing for:

If only there were a sufficient cause! I must not think too much of this, or I may be tempted; a good cause might turn the scale with me, for may not I too be of an exceptional brain, congenitally?

He knows that he is susceptible to that kind of temptation, to ignore all moral qualms for the sake of (making a name for himself with) Science. And he's trying to pull himself back from that brink... but a part of him wants nothing more than to find a cause worthy enough to do it anyway. He wants to dedicate himself fully to something important. He knows that he isn't entirely normal himself, and that once he gave in there would be no turning back. The idea appeals to him, even as it repels him - which in itself is very vampiric, actually. It's like the idea of finding a "sufficient cause" is his own trance which he must try to resist.

And the way he thinks of Lucy right after this seems telling to me. Perhaps he hoped that Lucy would balance him out, would help pull him away from these kinds of impulses, would make him Normal in a way he can't be on his own. But she didn't pick him, in fact she picked a man who is also much more Normal, and they're both wonderful and happy together. And he's happy for them, of course, but it leaves him on the outside. And on the other hand there's Renfield, who seems fully lost (and happy to be so) inside his own mad devotion to his cause. Seward seems to be pining after both Lucy and Renfield in this entry. Not romantically for Renfield, but they represent to him opposite extremes. Lucy is the life he could have if he didn't feel so drawn to odd and amoral ideas; Renfield is the fulfillment he could feel if he didn't feel sufficiently sane to let morals hold him back from indulging those urges. He knows Lucy doesn't love him back (symbolically: that he can't ever be fully normal) and that Renfield isn't someone to imitate (symbolically: that he can't let himself give in fully), so he's just stuck teetering between them at the moment. Of course, with Lucy's rejection leading him to isolate himself in his work (and away from his friends who also pull him back more to better behavior) he keeps tipping more and more towards becoming mad himself in his own way. But he still retains enough control over himself to feel bad about it and refuse to indulge himself fully... even as he fails to notice, or simply doesn't care, just how badly he's already failing to act in Renfield's own interests.

[markiemelon]

hiiiii~~ can i request a scenario where nerd!mark and athlete!reader are on a study date and mark finds reader so cute when they don't understand the material? also bonus points if the reader is shy and doesn't want to ask for help cus they're embarrassed

Thank you!! ur writings make me so happy

focus

genre fluff ﹋֪֢ ♡︩ · no warnings!

pairings nerd!mark x athlete!reader

4:18pm — ♡

“yn,” your math teacher addressed you, “im worried that your training is interfering with your studies.”

that wasn’t the first time you’d heard that, and yet, you still couldn’t think of a good excuse to tell. “look, yn, i’ve made it easier for you by arranging some study sessions with a classmate of yours.”

you actually felt kinda relieved to hear that. surely, some extra studying couldn’t hurt.

“in fact,” he continued, “he’s right here.” he gestured to a familiar boy walking into the room.

it was mark. you knew mark, but you never crossed paths much, considering how different your priorities were…you were all about training, and mark was all about studying…

“so i have to spend the rest of my afternoon with this nerd?” you accidentally said aloud.

“now, yn, we still have to be professional during after-school hours.” your teacher demanded.

mark just chuckled and smiled at you. his round glasses and ruffled hair added a gentlemanly charm to him that made you swoon a little.

“i’ll be off now, but feel free to stay in the classroom.” your teacher said, shuffling together some lose papers. “mark, just lock up the door as usual, i trust you as our class president.”

you widened your eyes. “he’s class president?”

“you didn’t know?” mark raised an eyebrow.

“i—uhh”

“i’ll leave you guys to it then.” your teacher nodded before he exited the room.

you approached mark. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t even know our vice principal until last week… so um, don’t take it personally.”

with that pathetic attempt at explaining yourself, mark sensed you were nervous. he walked up to you, his arms crossed and head nodding ever so slightly. “alright.” he said with a grin. “i won’t.” he looked at you for a second longer before pulling a chair out from the desk. he insisted that you sit, and he sat beside you.

and so the studying began… you handed mark a crumpled up page from the deepest, darkest depths of your backpack, and he looked confused “do you… want me to throw this away for you?”

“no!” you snatched it back. “that’s my calculus homework!”

“oh shoot!” he couldn’t hold in his cackle. “I’m sorry— yn im sorry.” he said it with the biggest smile on his face, weak from the laughter.

“whatever. just tell me how to solve this. or save us both some time and just tell me the answers.” you slumped in your chair.

he scanned the page briefly. “yeah, so it’s simple, really..” mark inched the graph paper closer to your side of the table.

he pointed at some numbers and rambled, of course, you couldn’t keep up. so you did the next best thing, which was letting your mind drift off to somewhere else..

“actually, he’s kinda cute..” you admitted to yourself while observing his side profile.

focus.

“it must be the glasses. he looks good with glasses.” now you were noticing things you hadn’t payed any attention to before.

focus.

“why is he so close to me…” your heart skipped a beat at the realization.

suddenly, mark’s voice became clear at the mention of your name.

“yn… focus” he cooed, not even looking up from the paper. he must have felt you staring, but oddly, you didn’t look away from him.

mark stopped his writing, but he kept his pen to the paper, holding it still as he turned to face you.

almost immediately, your confident demeanor crumbled, and now, head lowered, you depended on mark’s answer to break the silence.

“solve this one. it’s what i just showed you.” he rolled his pen to you.

“oh. okay.” you hesitantly took hold of the pen, and did your best to pretend like you understood, but mark obviously wasn’t buying it. after writing some gibberish, you gave up.

“um, mark?”

“yeah?”

“im a little embarrassed to ask… but.. can you explain it again?”

he didn’t look surprised. he looked at you endearingly. “as expected..” he chuckled, weighing his head side to side to stretch out his neck. his gaze shifted to the clock on the wall behind you. “you know, we should probably head out now.”

“already?” you looked back to see the time for yourself. he didn’t say anything for a second, he just nodded and flashed a gentle smile. “you get too distracted.” he nudged your shoulder. your cheeks burned a little when he did that. “well you’re too distracting.” you nudged him back.

mark grabbed his shoulder where you touched as if he were injured by your strength. “i’m so distracting yet you couldn’t focus on a single thing i said?” he teased you. you didn’t have a witty comeback, so you just stayed silent and stuffed some things wherever they could fit in your bag.

at that point, it was clear to both of you that the next few study sessions you had lined up, would be far more exciting…

a couple weeks of studying with mark went by, and the flirting made its way into your classes. he was getting bolder in his advances. it started with some subtle compliments but now he’s been giving you these corny winks from a across the room, and he makes it really obvious what he’s doing.

once mark started sitting next to you, hell broke loose. one time, the teacher asked the class to solve something, and you miraculously managed to figure it out before mark did. it still backfired tremendously…

“oh my gosh, i got it!” you whispered to mark. “it’s 29!”

he smiled at you for a second, before raising his hand, while simultaneously blurting out, “29! it’s 29!”

your teacher looked pleased. “that was quick, mark. as always, you never disappoint me with your calculating abilities.”

mark threw is head back laughing as quietly as he could, and you kicked his leg underneath the table.. as hard as you could.

later, you would find yourself sitting with mark, side by side, staring down at your math textbook.

“okay, so tell me, what's the answer to number 4?" mark questioned you.

you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you had no idea what was going on. “i don’t know it.”

mark paused and laughed out of disbelief. “yn, it’s a good thing you wanna be an athlete and not a mathematician.”

what he said was true, but it annoyed you regardless, so you snapped back.

“and it’s a good thing you’re cute, ‘cause that’s the only reason i haven’t killed you yet.”

“psh,” he laughed in an exhale. “are you into me or something?” he kept his eyes fixed on the paper in front of him.

you giggled, “i think that’s the first time i’ve actually known the answer to a question you’ve asked me.” you smirked to yourself, feeling proud of your smooth talking.

when he didn’t respond, you continued.

“yknow.. mark, for being top of the class, i thought you’d have a bit more common sense.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he didn’t even bother looking at you.

“yes, mark, i’m into you.”

he still avoided looking your way, but he couldn’t hold back his smile. you stayed staring at your cute math tutor, and you could tell it was making him shy. “yn. focus.” he tapped his pencil on the table.

you tried to pout. “but the math isn’t cute...”

he tapped his pencil more aggressively.

you didn’t try to fight back. you started jotting some things down desperately trying to figure out the equation, until he tapped his pencil again. “yn. i need you to focus.”

annoyed, you jerked your head to face him. “i am focused. im literally doing the math-” your eyes traced his features.

“no, i mean on this.”

“on what?”

he smiled and tapped his pencil to his cheek.

“i need you to focus on me.”

this ended up being longer than intended... but thank you thank you so much for requesting, im so happy to hear that you like my writingggggggggff!!!!! also sorry this took so long, im kinda backed up on requests LOL.

[aliceramblez]

BroZone Brothers With An Insecure S/O 😔💗

Tags: GN! Reader, Self-Deprecating Jokes, Low Self-Esteem, Abandonment Issues, Slight Body Insecurities. Fluff/Comfort.

A/N: Here we go with our first request! I really liked this idea as someone who has low self-esteem, and honestly it goes to all of y'all who think you're not good enough— cause you are! Also sorry it took a bit! I've been sick because the universe hates me 🙃

Feel free to leave a request & hope you enjoy! ^^

John Dory

At first, he doesn't really know what to make of it.

He finds it a bit strange, but doesn't question your odd sense of humor, and will sometimes even join in on the joke by saying stuff about himself, thinking it's some sort of inside thing between the two of you.

“Man, I can't believe I'm so clingy, sorry! Feel free to use me as a bad example, at least that way I won't be totally useless, haha!”

“Ha! You think that's bad? Babe, you haven't even seen me when I'm up at night just staring at the ceiling contemplating my life choices.”

It isn't until getting a good smack from Bruce and Floyd that he realizes you're actually being serious. And the prospect of that kinda puzzles him, not gonna lie.

“Look at you, tiger! Got yourself plenty of groupies already— Not surprising honestly. Don't have to worry about backups when you decide you're ready to move on, either!”

After a performance at the Pop Troll village, everyone is gushing over BroZone because of course they are. JD only barely manages to squeeze past the number of fans to get to you on the other side of the podium.

The oldest sibling looks at you in shock, and has to get closer to make sure he heard you right. “Babe, why would you say that?”

Caught off guard, you manage a nervous chuckle as you play with your hair. “I-I mean... Wow, would you look at the time! We gotta meet with Poppy and the others!”

John Dory stops you on your tracks and demands an explanation, which isn't really good for your poor heart. All you can do is kick the dirt and avoid his gaze, since that makes what you're about to say much easier to voice aloud.

“I mean... You're John Dory. You could date any troll you wanted and yet you're sticking with me. It honestly feels like a dream sometimes... And I'm scared of the day you realize you can do WAY better and decide to leave me.”

After processing this, he immediately holds your face in his hands and gives you the most serious expression you've ever seen on him. “I don't want just any random troll... I want you. You're my number one fan, and I'm yours, so don't even think about stuff like that, okay?”

After the exchange, he's always on the lookout for whenever your bad habit wants to kick in again and is ready to stop it ASAP

Spruce/Bruce

He notices it happens mostly when you're working at the cantina.

Whenever you get an order wrong, trip over your own feet or don't remember how to work one of the machines properly, you'll go into an awkward insecure flight response.

You'll say “Oops! Sorry! Clumsy Twinkle Toes, coming through!” while grinning and laughing along with the customers, but Bruce knows that it's affecting you more than you lead on.

It also happens whenever BroZone is getting ready to perform and you don't know what to do with yourself since you're “standing in the way”, despite being told multiple times that it's okay for you to be backstage with everyone else.

When he talks to you about it, you get really uncomfortable and just say that it's no big deal and that you can handle it.

“I've always been a clumsy person, so I guess that's always making me doubt myself over the smallest of things... Sorry if it's annoying.”

Bruce will then proceed to give you a huge warm hug and a kiss on the forehead as he whispers comforting words into your ear.

“Hey, I can be clumsy too! I've always been the worst out of everyone when it comes to choreography. Don't tell JD though, cause I know he'll throw a fit knowing I don't practice.”

He'll throw in other examples that may seem inconsequential to you, but you appreciate the effort nonetheless and smile and giggle through the embarrassing stories he shares.

He helps you get more confident by being there with you while taking orders at the cantina and praising you whenever you get something right— albeit in private as to not embarrass you.

Same goes with rehearsals, where he WILL drag you into the lounge area to hang with his brothers and/or Poppy and Viva when they decide to visit, too.

Overall he wants what's best for you and will try and push you out of your comfort zone, but only in a safe environment where he knows that if something does go wrong, it won't be as catastrophic as you make it out to be in your head.

You never stop thanking him for being your crutch during these times.

Clay

The moment he hears the words come out of your mouth he's completely flabbergasted.

First of all, who said those things to you? Because he swears he just wants to talk to them—

It's at a sleepover with his brothers and the gals at the Bergen Golf Course, and among the many games, snacks and movies watched, pictures are also taken.

As soon as you take a look at the array of selfies, you let out what sounds like a mix between a laugh and a sigh.

“I mean, at least it stays consistent— in photos, I look ugly. And in real life, I'm also ugly!”

As soon as those words leave your lips, Clay is at your side with an almost unreadable expression, only to snatch one of the photos from your hands. “How DARE you say that about the most attractive troll I've ever met? Shame on you!”

He then starts going around the room waving the picture around to his brothers, saying stuff like “Look how attractive my S/O is! I'm dating them!” while you're just blushing profusely and begging him to stop (even though deep down your kinda giddy about it).

After that day, Clay will do small gestures in which he reminds you how beautiful he thinks you are. Everything to outright saying it each morning, joking about it with his brothers, and even bragging about you to his friends in the Bergen Golf Course.

He's a simp and he's totally okay with that because it's you.

Clay feels like he's the luckiest troll in the world for being able to snatch someone like you since he's “the most boring and uninteresting of the bunch”, so he feels like he's hit the jackpot.

You immediately tell him that he's not boring to you and that he's the best boyfriend ever, which only causes him to smirk.

“Doesn't feel good to know the person you love feels so bad about themselves, does it?”

Finally realizing his reverse psychology, you give in with a laugh. “No, it doesn't. I guess... We can both work on that? Together?”

And so you do, and end up helping each other whenever one is feeling down in the dumps, as a sort of personal cheerleader. You truly couldn't have asked for someone better.

Floyd

You're the kind of person who's very vocal about your interests.

So it's no surprise that you have to catch yourself mid-ramble whenever you're talking about something you're either interested in or knowledgeable about. And with Floyd being such a good listener, it honestly slips your mind more times than you'd prefer.

After realizing you've been talking for too long, you turn pink in the face and start apologizing profusely.

“Sorry! You probably didn't need to hear all of that. They didn't call me ‘Chatter Box’ when I was younger for nothing! Haha...”

But Floyd could care less about any of that. He loves hearing you talk, not just because he's not much of a chatty person, but because he just finds it incredibly endearing.

He'll hold your hands in his own and give you the softest smile ever that just makes you think that it should be illegal to be THIS sweet.

“You're just so cute when you get lost in the moment like that. Besides, I love seeing you happy. By all means, I'm glad you get to do the talking for the both of us, otherwise we wouldn't get anywhere in this relationship.”

You laugh at his attempt to make you feel better and melt under the touch of his lips on your cheek.

After that, whenever you go out either just the two of you or with your group of friends, Floyd will encourage you to express yourself. He does this by either asking you a question directly or subtly incorporating you into the conversation by saying something like. “I think (y/n) knows about this kinda stuff. Don't you, love?”

Obviously this all happens with your consent beforehand, since he doesn't want to put you in a tight spot, either.

Either way, he always values whatever you have to say, since you always bring in new perspectives that maybe others didn't think about before.

He will also encourage you to be yourself and not try and match your topics of conversation with things you think other people will find interesting. You deserve to be happy by sharing what you love with the world.

Poppy and Viva are huge helps in the art of feeling confident by speaking your mind, and Floyd couldn't be happier for you.

You thank him by telling him about your day each night, in which sometimes he'll fall asleep to the soothing sound of your voice, which only warms your heart on so many levels.

“Goodnight, my prince.”

“Goodnight, my little chatter box.”

Branch

Just like Clay, this man is ready to throw hands.

Just give him a name and he'll get the job done before sunrise—

He notices that sometimes you struggle with finding outfits for different occasions, either something casual, dressy, classy, etc.

But it's not because you don't have anything in your wardrobe, on the contrary it's pretty much brimming. It's more the fact that you're not satisfied with any of them because you feel like you don't look good in them.

Branch tries to convince you otherwise, saying that you look great no matter what you wear, but you can't help but feel self-conscious in anything that isn't a good old sweatshirt.

He isn't knowledgeable in fashion (clearly) so he enlists the help of Poppy and The Snack Pack to try and cater outfits to your exact measurements, along with any other nitpicks you've had in the past with either texture or material.

I mean, Branch has backup plans to his backup plans, you think he wouldn't keep notes on what kind of stuff his S/O doesn't like— INCLUDING mundane stuff like their clothing?

He surprises you with these, and you can't help but feel attractive in them since he paid extra attending to the complaints you had from your own designs.

“I personally think you look great no matter what you wear. But if you feel so strongly about it, might as well get some stuff you'll actually enjoy wearing.” He'd said when you asked why he did it, and your heart just melted.

You vow to try and work on your self-imagine regardless, which he gets happy over and says he can't wait for you to see yourself the way he does.

[lacyscabinet]

ellie williams with blind reader

I JUST CANT FIND THIS ANYWHERE AND I THINK ELLIE WOULD BE A SOFTIE WITH THE READER😭😭

A/N: HELLO POOKIE!!! I love love love this request so much and I had so much fun writing it, thank you so much and I wish you a wonderful day!🤍🤍🤍 It was supposed to come out WEEKS ago but I got sick because I have the immune system of a Victorian child and I forgot to post this, I beg on my knees for forgiveness 😔✋🏼

give me feedback, gays 💜

NAVIGATION

okay so where should I start...

First of all can we say that being blind ESPECIALLY in an apocalyptic world is not EXACTLY ideal...

While Ellie may not fully grasp how you experience the world without sight, she knows what it's like to feel isolated and alienated

She’d make it her mission to keep you emotionally safe, always checking in with you, and gently coaxing you to talk when you’re feeling down or scared

BUT I'd like to think that Ellie wouldn't treat you like a little child just because of your condition, she knows you just need some extra help for some tasks

Ellie would totally read books out loud for you, because I don't think braille would be a thing in the apocalypse

She doesn't even mind doing it and she actually loves being able to help you with that

she might sit with you at the end of the day and read aloud from any scraps of books she can find out on patrol. If she doesn't have a book handy, she might make up stories on the spot, trying to paint vivid images in your mind

Sometimes if she doesn't have any ideas she'd just tell you about her adventures on patrol

...and it would be hilarious sometimes-

"Alright, so I was getting chased by this huge group of clickers, right? And they’re all like… trying to get me, but I’m just this...stealthy ninja, dodging left and right— Anyway, I had this crazy plan, and I kinda... tripped but, hey, that’s the story of how I almost died!"

I also believe she would be SO worried whenever she leaves for patrol because she knows you'd have to stay alone for a while.

Ellie would likely become hyper-aware of your other senses. Since you can’t see, she would focus on sounds, smells, and even tactile sensations to keep you informed of your surroundings

she might tap your shoulder lightly to guide you if you're about to bump into something

She would hold your hand to guide you when walking through a dangerous area or wrap her arm around your waist to steer you through crowded spaces in Jackson

Even though you’re blind, Ellie might still try to teach you about things that can be learned through other senses.

She could explain how to recognize different plants or what types of birds are nearby by their calls

Maybe she’ll even take it upon herself to teach you how to identify objects or places by their texture or sound, making you feel more connected to the world around you.

"This one’s a little tricky, but feel the texture of this rock—it's rough, right? Man, I love rocks..."

Ellie might get frustrated at times, but never at you, more at herself: she feels like she can’t do enough to make your life easier.

She might worry about how you experience the world, wanting to fix everything but realizing that some things are beyond her control

This would lead to moments where she becomes fiercely determined to find a way to help, trying to make things better in any way she can

"I just wish I could give you more, you know? I wish I could make you see the things I can see, just so you don’t feel like you’re missing out on things."

Overall she would be such a pookie because she's Ellie and she's a cutie patotie (and she also reduced the population of Seattle by 50%)

[togrowoldinv]

A True Love’s Kiss

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets brainwashed, it’s up to you to bring her back to her formal self. It’s not an easy task, but maybe your love for her is the key to unlocking her memories

Note: Woohoo Natasha. Just a fun (kinda angsty) little idea I came up with today. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

It’s a quiet morning as you run through the park. Memories of the last few years flash through your head, but you shake them away.

It’s been six months since you’ve heard from any of the Avengers. The so called ‘family’ left you out to dry the moment that things ended with you and Natasha.

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea to date the woman you worked with. But you knew you were in love with her and life felt too short to deny that.

You’re on the way back to your car when you sense it. A few moments later, two of your ‘old friends’ walk into your view.

“Y/n,” Steve begins. You don’t look at him.

“Come on, y/n. Look at us,” Clint adds.

“Why should I? I haven’t heard from any of you in months. All you did was side with Natasha,” you say bitterly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve says. You hate that it really seems like he means it. “Things got messy and we weren’t there for you.”

“Understatement of the century,” you remark.

You decide you’ve had enough of this. You move to open the car door but are stopped short by Clint’s next words.

“It’s Natasha,” Clint says. “She’s been compromised and we think the only person she’ll talk to is you.”

You sigh.

“And why do you think that?” You ask.

“We’ve tried everything. It’s our last idea,” Steve says. His tone has a sadness to it. “Will you come with us? Please. For Nat?”

You don’t reply, but you simply grab a bag of clothes from your car and walk closer to Steve and Clint. They’ll take that as a yes.

After walking to the quinjet, Clint takes the reins while Steve explains to you what happened to Natasha.

“She’s not herself. None of us have been able to stop her from these missions she’s been on,” he explains. “It seems like it could be the red room again. Like they’ve brainwashed her.”

“How did this even happen? How did she get that far out of reach in the first place?” You ask.

Steve hesitates to answer.

“Tell her,” Clint says.

“Tell me what?”

“Y/n, when you and Natasha broke up she went into hiding,” Steve says. “You never heard from us because we’ve been busy trying to find her. Now that we have, we have to figure out how to bring her in.”

“We found her in Russia,” Steve continues. “She’s good at what she does, you know that. But her heartbreak made her incredibly vulnerable. Even before she left the Avengers, her focus was somewhere else. Probably on how she broke your heart.”

“So this is my fault?” You wonder aloud. You don’t know if that makes you angry or sad. Maybe both.

“No,” Steve says. “It’s no one’s fault. Nat chose to leave.”

“But she’s not choosing to act like this,” Clint says. “I can tell. I can almost bring her out of it when I mention my family. And since she’s in love with you-“

“Was,” you correct him. “She was. Not anymore.”

“Right,” Clint says noncommittally. “We hope once she sees you, she’ll snap out of it.”

“So all of this is based on a hope?” You ask.

“Well, yeah,” Steve says.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. You stand up and push your way to the back of the jet to sit alone.

Truthfully, you’ve imagined reuniting with Natasha a million times. In your fantasy, she would show up at your door in the pouring rain with flowers and a romcom style apology for how she hurt you.

But this reuniting will be no romcom. You can tell from the way Steve can’t really meet your eyes that it’s bad. He cares for Natasha as deeply as you and Clint do. You can sense his fear. And Clint’s.

“We’re here,” Clint announces, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Where’s here?” You ask. You look out the front and notice the landscape is not the Avengers compound where you thought you were heading.

“There’s no time to prepare,” Steve says. “You can do this, y/n. Approach the house carefully and expect resistance. We’ll back you up but if Nat sees us we’re sure she’ll be quicker to turn against you.”

“Here’s coms,” Clint says, handing you a piece for your ear.

“Okay. Here goes nothing,” you say, taking a deep breath.

You step out of the quinjet and walk over one hundred paces to where Natasha is supposedly staying. As you expected, she doesn’t answer the front door when you knock.

Instead, you’re struck in the back of the knee. She effectively brings you down to the ground. Her legs straddle your waist. Your breath is taken away in more ways than one.

She looks beautiful yet sad. You try to shake off the fact that you’re seeing her for the first time in so long and focus on the way she’s crushing your ribs.

“Natasha,” you say.

“You don’t know me,” Nat says.

“I used to,” you answer. That throws her off briefly and you manage to squirm free. Natasha catches up fast and pins you against the door this time.

“What do you want?” Natasha asks. She feels an odd attraction to you. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help you,” you say.

Natasha punches the wall behind you and wraps her hand around your neck.

“Okay, you don’t like that answer,” you whimper out.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Natasha commands.

You bring your arm up to pull hers away from your throat but she doesn’t stop. You plead with her with your eyes and once again she hesitates long enough for you to slip away.

She pulls her gun on you, but waits to shoot. You hold your hands up in surrender. You try again to make her remember you.

“Natasha, please,” you beg for her to relent. “You know me and I know you. It’s me, y/n.”

She doesn’t appear to have any recollection, so you go deeper.

“You love peanut butter sandwiches,” you say. “And you secretly love M&Ms but only the red ones even though they all taste the same.”

“I-“

“And you get up every morning and go for a run not because you love running but because you like to see the world before it becomes too loud and unsteady,” you continue. “And you love me. Or at least, you used to.”

“I don’t- I’m not who you think I am,” Natasha says.

“Yes you are,” you argue back.

“I’m not,” she says. Her voice breaks. You feel like you’re making progress.

“Natasha, baby, please,” you say.

She’s fighting her internal turmoil. Her objective is to take down anyone in her way.

“Y/n, get out of there,” you hear Steve in your ear.

You don’t dare reply. She’ll shoot if she thinks she’s surrounded.

“You’re an Avenger,” you say. “You’re a friend. You’re a sister. You are an aunt to Clint’s kids. You’re the love of my life.”

Natasha’s hand shakes. She thinks she knows you, but she has a mission.

You look into her eyes as she aims at your chest. Steve and Clint run towards you knowing what’s about to happen but it’s too late.

Natasha fires the weapon and you feel a lot of pain before you feel absolutely nothing. Steve hits Nat with a tranquilizer before she can shoot him and Clint as well.

The next thing you remember is waking up in the medbay at the compound.

“Hey,” Steve greets you. “You’re okay.”

“Where’s Nat?” You ask, sitting up.

“She’s detained,” he says. “And asking for you.”

“What?”

“Welcome to the world again,” Tony interrupts as he enters the room. “Dr. Cho fixed your wound up perfectly as always.”

“Oh,” you say, remembering why you’re here. The ache in your shoulder becomes more noticeable when you try to move it. “I need to see her.”

“No can do, buckaroo,” Tony says. “We’ve got Hill in there talking to her.”

“You mean interrogating her,” you correct him.

“Maybe,” Tony replies. “But we need to know whose side she’s on now.”

“Steve, please you have to let me see her,” you say. “She recognized me. She just- she needed to continue her mission.”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “It’s too dangerous.”

“She already shot me,” you say dryly. “What else could happen?”

Steve relents. After a couple of hours of resting, you get dressed the best you can, putting your arm in a sling.

You approach the detainment area carefully. Natasha is sitting at a table with her hands cuffed to it when you enter.

“Take those off,” you instruct the guard.

“I’m not supposed-“

“Just do it,” you say.

“Ma’am-“

“Take them off,” Steve says over the intercom.

The guard complies and unlocks the cuffs. You frown at the way they’ve rubbed her wrists raw.

“Hey,” you say to Natasha.

“How’s your shoulder?” She asks.

“Fine. Why didn’t you shoot to kill me? I know you could’ve,” you say.

“So we’re jumping right in,” Nat remarks. “You said you know me and you told me facts that no one knows. I needed to talk to you more. I needed you alive.”

“Do you know me?” You ask.

“I don’t,” she says. You can’t help but frown. “But you do feel vaguely familiar.”

“You’ve had your memories of us taken from you,” you say. “Probably by the Red Room.”

“What did you just say?” Natasha asks. She stands up and pushes you against the wall.

“Nat,” you say. Your shoulder is throbbing.

“We’re coming in to help,” Steve says urgently.

“No wait! I can do this,” you shout. “Natasha please, you wouldn’t hurt me. Not again.”

“Stop acting like you know who I am!” She shouts. “How did you get that name? The Red Room? How did you know?”

“Because Natasha we dated for over a year,” you say. “You told me everything.”

“No,” she says. “I would- I would remember if I had loved you.”

“Natasha, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Stop,” she cries out. “Stop. You don’t- stop it.”

“I do. I love you. Please, I love you. Find yourself in me again, Nat,” you beg her.

Natasha’s eyes fill with tears. It’s beginning to click. You think of the last effort you can make to help her remember it all.

You lean toward her and pull her in for a hug. Your good arm goes around her waist and pulls her in. Natasha doesn’t hug you back but she doesn’t pull away either.

“Please, Natasha. I need you to come back to me,” you whimper into her neck.

It feels so familiar to her. Holding you in her arms as you bury your face into her neck, but she still can’t figure out who you are to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling away from your embrace. “I just don’t remember you.”

You nod in understanding. She doesn’t know why but she doesn’t flinch when you place your hands on the sides of her face. Her cheeks feel hot under your touch.

“Can I try?” You ask her. She gets what you mean.

“Okay,” she says.

You lean in and kiss her lips softly. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make Natasha’s heart flutter. And yours too. Under different circumstances, it would be an amazing reunion kiss.

“Y/n?” She asks when you pull away. There’s a light of recognition in her eyes.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Detka,” she begins. You could cry at the pet name. “I don’t- are you okay? Shit, this is my fault.”

She tries to inspect your wound, but you just hug her again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so so sorry that I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I did when I broke your heart,” she says regretfully.

“Natasha-“

“Let me just,” she interrupts. “Let me apologize. I’m so sorry, y/n. I love you. I haven’t stopped. It’s just I got so protective of you that I couldn’t let you go on missions. I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t holding me back, Nat. I understand that you’re protective over me, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” she says. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Let’s go home, Natasha. We can talk about this over a cup of hot chocolate,” you suggest.

“Yeah. Let’s go home,” Nat says.

You both ignore the other Avenger’s requests that you stay at the compound and they evaluate Nat’s situation and your injury.

The hope of a true love’s kiss curing Natasha seems to be really true. Maybe fairytales are real. Maybe they’re not. But you both love each other and you were always meant to end up together again.

[kteezy997]

my best friend's sister//t.c.

Warnings: smut, losing virginity, male receiving explicit oral sex, secret sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk

y/n had called Timothee, saying that there was an emergency and she needed him to come to her apartment right away. Naturally, he was quite worried. On the drive to her place, he hoped that she wasn't seriously hurt, as she was the younger sister of his best friend. He'd known her for years, even when she was still a teenager, and he cared for her deeply.

He arrived at her place just moments after the phone call, hurried to her apartment and knocked on the door.

"Hey, thank you so much for coming." she said upon opening the door and gesturing for him to come in.

She didn't seem to be hurt or even in any sort of panic, which did relieve him some.

"Are you okay? What's the emergency?" Timmy asked as he stepped into the apartment.

"Here, let's go to the living room to talk." she said, leading the way and sitting on the couch.

Timmy opted for a chair across from her, wondering why they were getting comfortable if there was something the matter. "So what's going on, y/n? You've got me worried over here."

Y/n had her hands on her lap, she sighed, "Okay, so there really is no emergency. But I did want to ask you something."

He frowned at her, "You wanted to ask me something? You couldn't just text me or tell me over the phone? You had me rush over here like you'd been stabbed." he shook his head slightly in disbelief.

She could sense the tiny bit of annoyance in his tone, and she genuinely felt bad. "I know, I'm sorry. I just didn't know of another way of getting you over here without Trent finding out.” She fiddled idly with her fingers, nervousness began to overwhelm her. "Okay, I'm just gonna say it: I want you to help me lose my virginity."

Timmy was stunned, didn't expect any part of that equation. She's a virgin? And she wants me to be the first? He couldn't believe it. Y/n had always been a cute, smart, and sweet girl. Surely, guys her age were nuts about her. And why on earth would she pick her brother's best friend to deflower her?

"I never would have guess that you hadn't had sex yet." was the first thought he said aloud.

"I know, and my friends won't stop giving me crap for it, they say I just need to do it, to just get it over with." she shrugged. "And I trust you, Timmy. I know that you care about me, and you’re really sweet and you’re protective of me, so I know that I'd feel safe."

She knew it was the nerves that were making her ramble, but she blushed as she thought of the next thing she would say to him, "I've kinda always had a little crush on you." she tucked a piece of her long hair behind her ear, "I want to do it with you."

"Me?” Timmy touched his chest, “Out of everyone you know, you picked your brother's best friend? Do you want Trent to kill me?"

She giggled, "No, of course not. The only way that he would ever find out would be if you told him. Because I'm not going to tell him. I wouldn’t tell anyone it was you. I'd just tell my friends it was some random guy." she waved her hand nonchalantly.

Timmy sighed, putting his chin in his hand, thinking the whole thing over and eventually saying, "I don't know, y/n. I like you, I do. I always did think you were cute, but don’t you think you're a little too young for me?”

"I'm twenty-two and you're twenty-eight, so you're really not that much older. We’re both adults here. Besides, I'm not asking you to marry me, or to even date me." She looked at him, then with a smirk she took her top off.

Timmy's eyes widened as he felt tension rise in his body. He cleared his throat, feeling hot as he took in the sight of her bareness in front of him.

"Look, I bought lingerie for the occasion." she announced, setting her shoulders back, showing her black, mesh bra off to him. Her nipples nearly popped out the top of the see through bra. "I think the bra is a little small, but do you like it?" she looked down at her bra, then up at Timmy who seemed to be at loss for words.

He swallowed hard, "Y-yes."

Y/n got up off the couch, kneeling down in front of him. She put her hands on his thighs, "May I kiss you?"

Timmy, hesitant to disrespect his friend, but so turned on by y/n, responded, "Do your worst."

She leaned forward, narrowing in on his lips with her eyes, she licked her own lips to moisten them.

Timmy felt a sense of excitement as he felt her lips meeting his. She kept her mouth closed and the kiss chaste for a moment, then her hand was on his jaw, and she parted her lips. He let his tongue slip in her mouth, and she opened wider for him. She moaned and they were fighting for dominance in the kiss.

He gave her a peck and lingered on her wet lips as he pulled away. As he looked at her after, he could see that her skin was flush, and her lips swollen.

She wasn't just Trent's little sister anymore. She was a beautiful, desirable woman before him. His eyes scanned down her face, her neck, down to her plump breasts, barely covered with the black mesh material. It was just then that he noticed mini embroidered black stars on her bra. The black material did little to conceal the color and hardness of her nipples.

"Can I... suck you off?" her eyes wandered down to the tent forming in his pants. "Please?"

Fuck, no girl had ever asked to suck my dick before. He nodded insistently, "Mm-hmm." he hummed his response.

Her fingers unzipped his jeans, and she pulled his boxers down to allow his cock to plop out. She giggled, "You're hard. And it's so big, Timmy." she carefully put her hand around the base, "Wow. So pretty." She kitten licked his thick, red tip before moaning softly as she took him in her mouth.

Timmy closed his eyes for a second, just trying to process what was happening. Was he really going to fuck Trent’s little sister? Damn, how was she so good at this?

He looked down at y/n, working her mouth on his cock like it was her job. Soft, sloppy sounds left her lips as she sucked him, bobbing her head like she really knew what she was doing. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Timmy asked with a chuckle and his hand caressing her hair.

She let her lips pop off his cock, “I just watch a lot of porn.” she admitted with a grin. She licked her fingers, then let the saliva coat his length before she started to pump him with her hand.

Timmy relaxed, letting her jerk his cock.

She would gently squeeze his tip in her palm with each thrust, and she looked up at his face to watch him as he started to moan. “Am I doing a good job?” she asked, knowing the answer already.

“Yes, s’good.” he shuddered, biting his lip.

She smiled, then licked a strip on the underside of his cock. She kissed the tip, gently massaging his balls with her fingers as she put her lips around his cock once more. She suckled his cock, placing her hands on his lower stomach, letting them slide up under his shirt.

Timmy put his hands on her arms as she explored underneath his shirt. Somehow, she kept his dick in her mouth, still sucking. “You’re so amazing already, y/n.” he praised in a huffy breath.

“Mm.” she hummed around his cock, taking it in her hand as she took her mouth away, “So you’ll do it?!” she blurted. She bit her lip, waiting for his reply.

“Yes. Just pinky swear we won’t tell anybody.” Timmy declared, holding his pinky out to her.

Y/n grinned, and locked her pinky finger around his. “Do you wanna fuck me in my bed?” she asked, her brows raised.

“Fuck yeah.” he breathed out, letting her take him by the hand and lead the way.

Y/n took her pants off upon entering her bedroom, revealing the matching panties to her bra, the see through material leaving nothing to Timmy's imagination.

He wanted to ruin her. He wanted to take her innocence and own it. The best part was that no one outside the two of them would ever know a thing.

As if she read his mind, she said, "You can be as rough with me as you want to. I'll let you know if it's too much."

"Noted." he answered, shoving her on the bed.

Y/n gasped as her body hit the bed in a rush. She grinned, eager to take him.

Timmy out his hands on either side of her ass, then tucked his fingers into the sides of her panties to pull them down.

She wiggled her butt in anticipation. She felt his fingers between her folds, and she shuddered.

"So wet. You knew I would do this for you, didn't you? You've been planning this." he said, plainly.

Then, before she could even reply, she heard his jeans hit the floor. She inhaled a sharp breath as he grabbed her hips. He climbed onto the bed, she felt his weight on her legs as he straddled them, then the tip of his cock was at her hole. She exhaled as he pushed his length into her.

"Fuck." Timmy muttered under his breath, taking his cock out just to put it right back in again.

He bottomed out, and she yelped softly in pain.

"You good?" he asked, his hands resting on her lower back, "Want me to stop?"

"No! The pain will subside, I know it will. Just please, don't stop." y/n begged.

Timmy went on thrusting his cock into her unbelievably tight pussy, gently kneading her ass to relieve some tension within her body.

She whimpered and moaned, but soon, there were cries of pleasure.

He took her pleasant sounds as a sign to work his hips faster, and seep deeper into her. He felt as if his cock was in a vice grip, he groaned, shook his head, and held y/n down so he could fuck her hard.

It was all she could do to lay there and take him. She gripped the sheets and whined as his cock carved into her pussy. It was everything she had wished for when it came to her first time, and even more.

"Yes, I'm yours to destroy, Timothee!" she cried as he rocked into her roughly.

Timmy grabbed her hair, pulling her upward onto all fours, he leaned forward, putting his cheek to hers as she gasped in surprise. "You're all mine, that's right. No man gets to feel this perfect, tight pussy but me. And it's our secret." With that, he kissed her on the cheek.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter eight: questions & theories

previous chapter ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ chapter nine

summary: after edward had mysteriously rescues her, she finally gets some answers.

warnings: violence, harassment

words: 4.6k (unedited)

All that could be heard was the shudder of my quickened breaths, not even a word coming from Edward’s mouth or even the drunken men who just stared in what was perhaps confusion? Maybe fear? Just moments ago, I could read them almost instantly. Hunger was what I felt from them. The absolute need for control. It sickened me.

I wasn’t sure what Edward had done, but the boys backed up and Edward made his way back into the car. I hurried and put my seatbelt on before he revved the engine and pulled forward. I couldn’t help but gasp as the men fell over as they backed away. Then he backed up swiftly, making the sharpest turn around that swished my insides. Even then, I still felt the safest I’ve ever been.

He raced down past the building and pulled onto the street, not even stopping at the sign or even waiting for someone to let him in. Honks blared past him, but not one flinch. As he raced down the street, I took the time to study him. His jaw was clenched, his hands gripped the wheel, his expression was full of fury; it looked as if he wasn’t even breathing at all.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice squeaked. I winced hearing my voice coming out so frail. 

“No.” He was fuming.

I was surprised when he’d made a complete stop at the side of the road. I didn’t realize I’d been looking at him the whole time when he finally stopped to look towards me, not even reaching my eye.

“Y/N?” he asked as softly as he could, although I could still hear the strains of anger.

“Yeah?”

“Are you all right?” His eyes met mine for a split second.

“I–I think so…” I don’t think I was. I was too shocked by it all.

“Do you think you can distract me?” he just about pleaded.

From just looking at him, I didn’t need to question his need for a diversion. But, what was there to say? The days without him had left me in a heap of depression and utter sense of boredom at school. I racked my brain of anything that seemed amusing, scratching out my search for vampires and the constant dreams I had of him that left me a sweating mess on my sheets.

“Tyler Crowley–he–um kept telling everyone he was taking me to prom? I think? I don’t really remember, I kinda tuned it out…” I admitted. I should’ve been more angry about it, but the absence of Edward had hit me a lot harder.

“I heard about that.” He seemed to be controlling his breaths.

“Really? Was I the last one to hear about this?” I tried to lighten the mood, it seemed to work when I was rewarded a slight chuckle. “If he thinks taking me to prom is making up for almost killing me, then I’ll just run him over with my car and make it even.”

I saw his mouth twitch a bit with my remark, almost forcing itself not to crack a smile. I decided to speak up again. “What’s wrong?”

“My temper. Sometimes it gets out of control.” He was whispering, ashamed of what he couldn’t control. “It’s taking everything in me not to turn around and hunt those animals. The vile, repulsive things they were thinking…” 

I know. I didn’t dare speak that aloud. I felt like I was losing my mind. Could he too hear their thoughts or were they as clear as day?

“It wouldn’t help to turn around and do it… or even run them over… At least that’s what I’m trying to  convince myself.”

A part of me wished that he would… hunt them down. The part of me that was completely exposed. The one that was forced to hear their thoughts. Unless I’d imagined it… but it wouldn’t have been too far off from reality.

“Jessica and Angela,” I broke the brief silence, realizing that it had been at least 20 minutes since I’d last contacted them. “I was supposed to meet them, they’re probably worried...”

Without another word, he started the engine. Yet again, racing through the streets in a blur. He parallel parked in a spot with ease, right in front of La Bella Italia. My eyebrows furrowed. From the time I’d told him about meeting the girls to our arrival at the restaurant, I never mentioned the location once.

In my swift time of thought, he’d already been opening my door.

 “What’re you doing?” I asked him.

“I’m taking you to dinner,” he said as if it was so plainly obvious. 

I fumbled with my seatbelt as my mind raced about as fast as Edward’s driving. Finally, I stepped out.

Just as we were entering, Jessica and Angela walked out, the both of them sighing with relief. Right as they were about to speak, they noticed the brooding, tall man beside me and their worried looks had faded, instead replaced with a red tint in their cheeks.

“Sorry I kept Y/N from dinner. We ran into each other and got talking.” Edward was the one to speak first. I was grateful. I couldn’t even bear to tell them what happened, at least not yet, I didn’t want to worry them. 

“We understand, yeah!” Jessica was completely flustered along with Angela.

“Would it be all right if I joined you?” he asked. He had a way with people, one that left them absolutely breathless. The girls were left in stutters.

“Um! Y-yeah sure!” Jessica breathed. Edward smirked.

“Um, actually, Y/N, we already ate while we were waiting — sorry," Angela confessed. 

“That’s okay! I’m not really that hungry anyways.” I shrugged. With all the nerves with Edward here, I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to stomach anything.

“I really think you should eat something,” Edward said in a low voice, leaning down to speak into my ear. I looked up at him, trying to cover up the fact that I was in complete awe. I simply nodded back at him as if I was in a trance.

“Sure, yeah.” I tried to say as composed as possible. 

He looked back to the two girls, then spoke, “Do you mind if I drive Y/N home tonight? That way the two of you aren’t left waiting.”

Jessica and Angela looked to me for an answer. I gave them a nod with a smile. This was exactly what I needed. A night to finally ask all of my unanswered questions from my brooding savior.

“Yeah! Not a problem! See you tomorrow, Y/N/N,” Jessica chirped.

“Bye Y/N,” Angela leaned in for a hug. “And Edward, thanks for staying and taking her home.” She smiled at him. He responded back with a tight, but genuine smile.

Once they left, Edward guided me towards the entrance,holding the door open for me. My heart skipped a beat. I walked through the door, immediately being greeted by a host. Actually, only Edward was greeted by the host. Just from the look in her eyes, I knew she was instantly enamored by his presence, a feeling that was all too familiar with practically anyone that laid their eyes on him. 

As she spoke, she never broke eye contact with him, not once looking towards me. I hated that it bothered me. The way she smiled at him, giggling at him once he spoke — it made me feel small.

“A table for two?” Her eye contact was still left unbroken, but when I looked towards Edward, his eyes were only on me. My breath trembled.

When she led us to a larger table, one that was meant for four, Edward spoke up, “Perhaps something more private?” He asked the host with a quick glance towards her before slyly pulling out a tip for her. Then his eyes were back on me. 

“Sure,” she said alluringly, still trying to catch Edward’s undivided attention. She led us over to the quieter area of the restaurant, with a ring of small booths lined up. “How’s this?” 

“Perfect.” He flashed a smile at her, one that had absolutely left her awed.

”Um-” she stuttered, “your server will be right out.” She walked away, still making glances back towards Edward.

“Wow.” That was all that I could possibly utter after that interaction.

“What?”

“You really shouldn’t do that to people.” I finally found my voice. “It’s hardly fair.”

“Do what?”

”Dazzle them like that.” I couldn’t possibly think of a word more fitting. “She’s probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now.”

His eyebrows furrowed, which surprised me. Did he really not notice this effect he has on people?

“I dazzle people?” His head tilted to one side, his eyes full of curiosity.

“Oh, come on.” I giggled. “Do you really think everyone gets their way so easily?”

He ignored my question completely. “Do I dazzle you?”

I froze for a moment before asking, “What do you think?”

“Now that’s the real question…” He mumbled. He looked frustrated.

Thankfully, before I could even form a response, our server arrived, her eyes gleaming. Once again, another woman dazzled by just the mere presence of Edward Cullen.

“Hi. My name’s Amber and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?” She only looked at Edward and I noticed that his eyes, again, were on me.

“A Coke.” I said rather bland to the server.

“Two Cokes,” he said.

“I’ll be right back with that.” She shot him another smile, one that was completely unnecessary as his eyes still remained on me.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine?” I’d completely forgotten about the reason why he was here with me in the first place. I hated that. The way that every thought bolted out of my mind when it came to him, it was quite frustrating.

“You’re not a little shaken up? Dizzy, sick, cold…?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I’ve always been pretty good at repressing unpleasant things.” And he was far from that.

He nodded. “Well, I’ll feel better once you have something in your system.”

Just after that, the server came back with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. To make him feel better, I grabbed one to nibble on.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked Edward, her back facing me.

“Y/N?” he asked. She looked back at me uninterested. I tried my hardest to swallow my tongue.

I glanced at the menu, picking the first thing that my eyes fell to. “I’ll have the Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“And you?” She turned back to him with a smile.

“Nothing for me.” I knew it.

The server gave him a coy smile. “Just let me know if you change your mind.”

He pushed my drink towards me, nodding at it for me to drink. The waiter left disappointed.

Once the glass was in front of me, I sipped on it, forgetting how dehydrated I actually was. In under a minute, the soda was gone and embarrassingly enough, I was still thirsty.

I saw him push the other coke towards me. I gave him a smile, deciding to take small sips from it.

“Cold?” He asked. 

I felt a shiver down my spine and this time it wasn’t from Edward, but from the Coke that I’d chugged and the one that I was currently sipping on. 

Before I could even nod, he shrugged off his gray coat, one that looked a little too nice for a teenage boy. Underneath, he wore a casual dark blue button down with the two buttons loose to reveal a dark gray undershirt.

Once he handed me his coat, I was broken from my trance. I slid my arm into his coat, oddly, it was cold, almost as if I’d left it in my car that was drowning in snow from the night before. But in just seconds, the coat had warmed to my touch. Once it was on, I pushed back the sleeves as they were far too long on me…

“You sure you're alright? Normally a person would’ve gone into shock.” He pushed the breadsticks in front of me and I gladly served myself another.

Why was that? I couldn’t really make out a sane answer as to why my reaction didn’t amount to one of a normal person. There was truly only one answer. Him.

“I feel safe with you,” I confessed. 

His head went down, his eyes to the floor with a furrowed brow.

“I’m not… good for you.” He shook his head, his eyes still facing the ground.

“Your eyes are black again.” I saw his expression change, he looked back up at me, his eyebrows furrowed yet again, but this time in a state of confusion rather than disappointment. “I noticed your moods change according to your eye color, it’s quite interesting actually. One of my new theories.”

“So there’s more theories?” He had a faint smile and I could sense that he was a bit intrigued.

“Well I’m not gonna force it out of you. Just makes me feel a bit more sane.” He nodded at my response, his smile peeking a bit more in the corners of his mouth. 

“And what are these new theories?”

When the waitress came over, we both realized how close we were sitting and immediately straightened out. She set the dish in front of me and then turned to Edward.

“Did you change your mind? Isn’t there anything I can get you?” she asked him. 

“No, thank you.” Then gestured towards me. 

I looked around at the table, realizing I’d already finished the second coke. “Maybe just some water.” I gave her a tight smile.

She nodded, only smiling at Edward, then took the empty glasses off the table and walked off.

“So, those theories?” He moved closer to me.

“I’ll tell you later in the car. Only if I can ask you a few questions.”

“Done,” he said immediately, I was a bit surprised.

“Why are you here?” I started.

“To have dinner with you,” he said as if it were obvious.

“No, I mean Port Angeles. It’s an hour drive – you knew I was here.”

“Next.”

“C’mon, I gotta have at least some answers if you won’t tell me the big one.”

“Next,” he repeated.

I tried hard to not look as frustrated as I actually was. I shouldn’t have. I should feel grateful and not poke my head in where it didn’t belong. But I couldn’t help the pull I felt towards him, the need to know him. Instead, I pulled my focus towards the steaming food in front of me, twisting the noodles on my fork and sticking them in my mouth. It was actually delicious.

The waitress came back with two waters without another word.

“Okay.” I took a sip of my water before speaking up again. “So… let’s say, hypothetically, someone could know what people are thinking. Read minds, you know?” I wasn’t even sure if this question was regarding me or him, but I was intrigued either way.

“Hypothetically?” He asked, amused.

“Mhm.” I nodded. “So, how does it work? How is it that someone could find another person at the right time and just know that they’re in trouble?”

“Well, hypothetically, it shouldn’t take that someone any mind reading at all to know just how much trouble you get into in a town with absolutely no trouble.” He chuckled.

I only just looked at him, waiting for him to tell me the truth or not. Just from my look, he seemed frustrated, as if he was battling a war in his mind of whether or not he should tell me the truth.

“You can trust me, you know?” Without a second thought I reached my hands towards his, but he pulled them away. My face was tinted red. I was glad his eyes were still to the floor.

“I was wrong about you.” He admitted. “You're much more observant than I gave you credit for.”

“Thought you were always right.”

“I used to be.” He finally looked at me. “But, you proved me wrong.”

He spoke up again before I could respond. “I was wrong about something else, too.”

“You’re not a magnet for accidents. No… that’s not a broad enough classification. You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will inevitably find you.”

“And you think that’s you?” I guessed. 

Just from his expression, I knew I was right. His face turned cold, in another effort to shut me out completely. 

“Unequivocally,” he said.

My hands stretched across the table again as they had a mind of its own. Even as he pulled away, my hands persisted, shadowing over the back of his hand, feeling his skin with my fingertips. It was cold, like stone. Familiar. Like in my dream. Once the cold started to dissipate from my fingertips, I slowly inched my hand back…

I wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Edward looked down at where my fingertips once laid, a bewildered look on his face. To break his focus, I cleared my throat, muttering, “Thank you,” I started. He looked up at me, trying hard to not glance back down at his hand. I continued “For saving me… again…”

“Let’s hope there isn’t a third.” He said, his usual condescending self resurfacing. He placed both of his hands under the table, pulling himself back into our conversation.

“I followed you to Port Angeles,” he admitted. “I feel protective over you.” His expression seemed like he didn’t know why himself, but he continued on, “I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes.”

It should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t. Instead, I felt content over the fact that this connection wasn’t imaginary. He felt it to the point where he felt the need to protect me. Nothing about this was normal, but I seemed to not be fazed by it at all. So, why should I fight it? The only thing I was determined to fight was the smile that threatened to curve on my lips. 

“Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time, with the van, and that you've been interfering with fate?" I speculated, distracting myself.

“That wasn't the first time," he murmured. “Your number was up the first time I met you." 

My breath hitched. But somehow, the memory didn’t bother me anymore, not when I felt the safety I felt with him right now. Not when he’d gone beyond faith and saved me twice.

"You remember?" he asked.

"Yes." I was as calm as ever. 

“And yet here you sit." There was a trace of disbelief in his voice; he raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, here I sit… because of you." I paused. “Because somehow you always manage to find me?”

He studied me, his expression guarded. His eyes flashed down to my plate, then returned to mine.

“You eat, I'll talk," he bargained. 

I looked down at my now, lukewarm food, realizing how long it’s been since I’d taken a bite. I filled up my fork and ate in return for his explanation.

“It's harder than it should be — keeping track of you. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before…" He glanced at me with anxiety, and I noticed I had tensed up. I forced myself to swallow, then piled up my fork again for another bite.

“I kept loose tabs on Jessica, knowing only you could find trouble in Port Angeles. At first I didn’t notice when you roamed off on your own – her thoughts were quite scrambled. Then, when I realized you’d left them, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. I could tell you hadn’t gone in yet – you’d gone south. I searched through the thoughts of people on the street just to see if anyone saw you. I was strangely anxious…”  He trailed off, lost in thought, his gaze distant.

“I drove in circles, still… listening. The sun was setting, and I was considering following you on foot. But then—" He paused, teeth clenched in sudden fury, making an effort to regain composure.

“Then what?" I whispered. He continued to stare towards the floor. 

“I heard what they were thinking," he growled, his upper lip curling slightly back over his teeth. So could I, even if it was just for a moment. “I saw your face in their minds." He was struggling to compose his anger as his entire face twitched up.

His hands were now in his face to contain his fury. “It was very… hard — you can't imagine how hard it was for me to simply take you away, and leave them… alive." I was holding in a gasp. But, still… somehow… I wasn’t afraid of him. 

“I could have let you go with Jessica and Angela, but I was afraid if you left me alone, I would go looking for them," he admitted in a whisper. I sat quietly, dazed, my thoughts incoherent. My hands were folded in my lap, and I was leaning weakly against the back of the seat. He still had his face in his hand, and he was as still as if he'd been carved from the stone his skin resembled. 

Finally he looked up, his eyes seeking mine, full of his own questions. 

“Are you ready to go home?" he asked. The waitress had come over almost immediately after Edward muttered the words.

I nodded, satisfied that I’d be the one spending an hour long drive with him, one that would further my answers to my long-awaited questions.

“How are we doing?" she asked Edward. 

“We're ready for the check, thank you." He was a lot more reserved than earlier. His charming smirk had been replaced with a brooding expression, still reflecting the strain of our conversation. The waitress seemed to notice the change and looked a bit disoriented from it.

“S-sure," she stuttered. “Here you go." Before she even pulled out the check, a bill was already in his hand. He slipped it into the folder and handed it right back to her. 

“No change." He gave her a tight smile, then stood up. Meanwhile, I scrambled awkwardly up to my feet. 

She smiled invitingly at him again. “You have a nice evening." He didn't look away from me as he thanked her. I didn’t even bother to smile. Walking out, he was close beside me, but still careful not to touch me.

He opened the passenger door, holding it for me as I stepped in, shutting it softly behind me. I should’ve been used to this. But as I watched him circle around the car, so effortless and graceful, I couldn’t help but think of how I was so utterly astonished by him.

Once inside the car, he started the engine and turned the heater on high. I was grateful, because even in the warmth of his coat, the temporary chill of the car had left me in shivers and a cold breath. I didn’t even notice Edward weaving through traffic, as I usually did, but we were now on the freeway. That’s when he finally slowed down to a normal pace, for now…

“Now, about those theories…" he said, his usual smirk and smugness creeping its way back.

“I still have more questions,” I revealed. “Just one.”

He only nodded, staring me down, not even paying attention to the road.

“What am I thinking right now?”

He sighed. “Now that. That’s the most frustrating thing of all.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I waited for an answer.

“I can read every mind… apart from yours.”

My breath hitched. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“I hear voices in my mind and you think there’s something wrong with you?” So, I’m a double freak. I should’ve told him that I heard them too, even if it was only for a few moments… But if he could have secrets, so could I.

“How does it work?”

“Mostly, it’s like being in a huge hall filled with everyone speaking at once. It's just a hum — a buzzing of voices in the background. It’s not until I focus on one voice and that’s when their thoughts are clear.” He paused for a moment. “Most of the time I tune it all out — it can be very distracting. And then it's easier to seem normal.” It seemed agonizing.

“Why do you think you can’t hear me?”  I asked 

curiously.

“The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM." He grinned at 

me, suddenly amused.

“So you’re telling me that my mind doesn’t work right?” I chuckled, but really, his words unsettled me. It hit a nerve, tapping into a fear I’d always dreaded might be true. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just a theory… which brings us back to yours.”

I froze. Suddenly, saying it out loud made me feel foolish. Despite all my research and seemingly reliable conversations – I still felt like I was losing my mind.

He noticed my silence. “I won’t laugh,” he said, scrunching his grin into a line. 

I took a deep breath before I started. “So, I ran into an old friend – Jacob Black, an old family friend of mine… His dad is one of the Quileute elders.” I noticed his expression change, his jaw clenching.

“At La Push, he told me a few old legends – I think he was trying to scare me. But, he told me one…” I was distracted by the Forks welcome sign as Edward slowed down – I should’ve known that the hour-long car ride would be cut short from Edward’s driving habits. 

Right as I was about to continue onto my theory, my attention shifted to the flashing police lights and sirens as we were nearing the police station. Then, my dad’s cruiser parked right in front.

“My dad’s still here… Can you pull in?” I asked.

“That’s my father’s car in the end. What’s he doing here?”

Once he pulled in, we both exited the car, meeting Carisle as he walked down the steps of the police station.

“Carlisle. What happened?”

“Waylon Forge was found in a boat out near his place. I just examined the body.” 

Flashes of images consumed me. The boat. Red. So much red. In a blur, the flash of crimson red was surrounded by pale bodies devouring the deceased Waylon Forge.

“Y/N?” A voice interrupted the images, a shake and then a cold hand on my face is what I felt before I opened my eyes.

I squinted from the flashes of the red and blue police lights. With each blink, my vision cleared and in front of me was Edward – wearing an expression I’d never quite seen from him before: fear. 

And I felt it too, more than ever.

His once cold hand warmed on my face, almost tingling. But this time, he didn’t move it. 

“Y/N?” Carlisle interrupted over Edward’s shoulder. “Are you feeling faint?”

“No.” I cleared my throat. Edward had finally let go, but that warmth of his touch lingered severely. “I’m fine, thank you. Just… just shock… H-he died?” I stuttered. “How?”

I knew exactly how. The images from just seconds ago flickered. My heart pounded and my breath picked up from just the memory of it. The blood. Waymond’s blood. His lifeless body being torn apart by those three figures… Vampires.

Carlisle sighed. “Animal attack.”

next chapter

a/n: i'm so sorry i haven't updated in forever ..........

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire @nephilimsss @itszzmoon @astrovampie @cryingoverfictionalmen @boxofbadsenses @ttnaanj @iheartprettygurls @aoi-targaryen @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mystifiedgrace @ladybirdbeetle7 @celi-xxmoon @quinnieloves @valeriegraham @renesmeviolets @justicexjustice @bubs-world @eir964 @turnintoclown @tiniewife

(if ur username is here and u didn't get a notif just dm me and i'll dm u when there's an update <3)

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[lovebeatriceplz]

can you make travis phelps headcanons if you haven't already? you can do any kind, thank you

Sure <3

Travis Phelps Hcs (GN!)

General and Dating ( fanart is by @ridulra on Instagram).

- Having a strongly opinionated friend is not for the weak, so you have to be a certain type of person to put up with get along with him.

- But once you do get past the wall he's put up around himself, he's and extremely loyal friend/ partner.

- if you're dating expect him to bring you to his church occasionally.

- His father does not like you💀 at all.

- I feel like he is rlly strict about virginity and is waiting for marriage (lowkey same).

- Absolutely NO pda. I think he'd rather die first than😭 don't take it personal though.

- if you're lucky you'll get to stand beside him at school.

- But when you guys happen to be alone he's itching to have any contact with you, like his fingers actually twitch.

- Hold his hand him a kiss on the cheek, all the blood comes rushing to his face.

- He'd cover your mouth with his hand after and tell you to fuck off (awww🥰). He desperately needs it though.

- Emotionally constipated

- Only people who pay close attention to him (like Sal) would know that you guys are together.

- The reason why he chomps down the school lunch is because he's not fed properly. His father looks like the type of man to use starvation as punishment (when i catch you ricky-).

- His favorite pass time is to just sit and listen to you talk, even when you don't think that he's listening, he is <3.

- Avoidant attachment style??

- doesn't feel like he's good enough for anyone, especially you (over thinks a lot).

- I feel like he's a nerd, like the d & d, lego, stars wars kinda nerd.

Platonically speaking, he would express his appreciation for you occasionally, but it's like rlly awkward. "I guess you're not that bad-" or "sometimes you make me want to cry, but in a good way-".

- or he'd just buy something you like and drop it into your bag idk.

- He'd be a bit more physical with his s/o because he struggles to express himself verbally.

- Traces your face when you sleep

- As much as he values alone time, a feeling of loneliness normally overwhelms him, especially at home.

- Doesn't know how to say 'i love you', not aloud atleast ( I felt really angsty today lol).

- He has no sense of fashion. HE DOESN'T OK, skinny jeans + polo shirts.

[samfkiszka]

Paper Bag: Chapter Two

Vampire!Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Hunger Hurts, and I want him so bad, oh, it kills...

★・・・・・・★

Forced to move back to your father's hometown the summer before your first year at college, you had resided yourself to the fact that the next few months were going to suck.

But that was before you were reacquainted with Danny next door. And before you got a brand new job at a dusty old bookstore run by an eccentric old woman. And before Jake walked into said bookstore, poised to turn your entire world upside down.

Word count: 4,347

Warnings (for this chapter): Light cursing, cheesy writing, dialogue heavy, half naked danny (deserves a warning…), kinda mildly angsty, maybe some slight spelling errors... (that's literally it)

Chapter 1

Master list

taglist form if you're interested <3

★・・・・・・★

If you had told a single soul back home that you were currently sitting in the passenger seat of a man’s car– much less a man you had only met a week ago– headed to an unknown location, they would have lost their minds. Not that you would blame them, this behavior was beyond anything you would ever dream of doing. The fact that it was Jake made it feel slightly different. Maybe the fact that no one in this town knew you well enough to judge you helped too. Well… no one but Danny.

When Jake had pulled into your driveway you were already standing behind your door, anxiously running over every possible scenario in your head. You had let him lead you to his car– shiny, black, almost too gaudy for a town where most people opted to drive beaters– and open the door for you. Of course, you had pretended like you hadn’t noticed Danny peering through his window, his face conveying an emotion you couldn’t quite read. You had pushed all worries out of your brain, instead turning the entirety of your attention back to Jake. The interior was just as clean as the outside, which made sense for him. The speakers played a quiet tune, but it wasn’t a song you recognized. Nevertheless, the beautiful acoustic melody made you feel even more relaxed as he slid out of the driveway and onto the road. In your haze you didn’t even think to ask where he was taking you. 

Instead, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, letting the music fill the gaps that your words couldn’t. 

The trees sped past as he drove on, and you suddenly didn’t recognize the area. Granted, it had been years since you had last actually seen this town in full, and you were never one to explore it anyway. But as he slowed to a stop in front of a heavily wooded area, you wondered that maybe Danny was right to worry. 

“You’re not going to kill me out here, right?” You break the silence, half teasingly, as he opens your door and offers you his hand. 

“Would I really tell you if I was?” He poised. 

“Touché, Kiszka.”

He pulled you towards a clearing in the woods, denoted by a worn down footpath. 

“You trust me?” His brow furrowed as he stopped to turn towards you, carefully holding both of your hands as he spoke. 

“Probably more than I should.” 

“Definitely more than you should.” 

“You do realize that makes it seem like you really are going to kill me.” 

He laughed, the earlier worry that painted his face melting away. He fixed his position so that he was facing the path once again. 

“I just wanted to show you there’s more to this town than what you’ve seen. I can tell you aren’t enjoying it as much as you should,” He whispers gently, leading you onto the beaten down dirt that wove through the heavily crowded trees. He hummed softly as you walked, and you were almost too scared to breathe– you were worried he would stop if he remembered you were there. 

“Is it really that obvious?” You wonder aloud after a moment. 

“No, not that obvious. I’m just… really good at reading people,” He muses, slowing down as he speaks. 

The two of you had come into a clearing that opened up much farther than you would have expected. At first glance that’s all it was: an opening in the woods that was just as dark and dreary as the rest of the town. Jake stared at you expectedly, studying your face with such intensity you wondered if he could actually see the inner workings on your brain. But then the initial emotions settled, and you were able to take it in as a whole. The large douglas firs that bordered the perimeter, the wide array of colorful flowers spattered about the grass. An ode to resilience in the face of an unshining sun. Birds chirped, bees buzzed, you even saw a butterfly flit pass in the corner of your eye. It all seemed entirely too wrong for the climate of the town. 

“How did you even find this?” You whisper in awe, staring at the vast scenery and trying to absorb it all as quickly as possible. 

He shrugs, a pleased smirk gracing his delicate features, “I have a lot of free time on my hands.” 

“Clearly,” you scoff, “Seriously, Jake, this is–.” 

His cold palm gently squeezed your hand three times in short succession, and a bubble of warmth erupted in your chest. 

“I had a feeling you’d enjoy it. I know it can be… kind of depressing. Never being able to fully see the sun.” He sounded far off as he spoke, his eyes scanning the opening much like yours had been for the past few moments. “You don’t really hate it here, though.” 

It sounded more definitive than a question. 

“No. I guess not. I like Danny, and I like working at the bookstore. And…” 

“I like you too,” He interjected as you trailed off. “You’re… interesting.” 

“Me? Interesting?” You couldn’t think of a single thing about yourself that anyone would find interesting. 

“Different. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met.” 

“What, none of the girls in this town want to discuss French literature with you?”

He rolled his eyes but his smile stayed the same, “It’s not a bad thing to be different, you know. Most people value that. You know, you’re very confusing to me.” 

“Confusing?” 

“Confusing. You really should be scared of me.” 

“Okay, you really aren’t helping your case with the whole serial killer schtick.”

“I’m being serious. Why do you think Daniel acts so odd around me?” 

“Danny,” you corrected reflexively, “And… I don’t know. I assumed he was jealous.” 

“Well, yes for the most part,” his voice took on a cocky tone, “but he’s also scared.” 

You thought back to your first night Danny walked you home, and how he was constantly looking over his shoulder as he spoke about Jake. He had a point: Danny did seem frightened. 

Jake leads the two of you over to a flat rock, sitting down as you thought. Danny had in fact acted scared. You even pointed it out to him. 

But why? 

“See, that’s why you’re so confusing. You should know why. You’re smart. It should be obvious. Or, at least your instincts should be screaming at you to be scared. But, you’re not.” 

“Why would I be scared of you?” You whisper softly, more confused than ever. You were sure you hadn’t spoken aloud, and yet he answered your question anyway. Despite this, despite his odd behavior, despite everything you simply couldn’t bring yourself to feel any negative emotion about him. You scoot closer, your hand still clasped in his and he stiffens at the sudden contact. 

He studies your face for a moment, and his mouth quirks up in an odd smile. You couldn’t begin to think of anything else but how the pale pink of his lips contrasted his equally pale skin. How could you be afraid of someone so beautiful? 

“What exactly has Danny told you?” He asks, still smiling a halfhearted smile. 

“Well,” you thought back to every previous night, everytime Danny brought up Jake and his family. You felt bad at the prospect of hurting Jake’s feelings. Surely he knew about the rumors, but repeating them felt unnecessarily cruel. 

“You won’t hurt me by telling me. I know you don’t believe what he said,” He urged you to continue. 

“He really didn’t tell me that much. Just told me about your brothers, that you guys prefer to keep to yourselves. Really Jake, it was nothing bad,” you conveniently leave out everything beyond that, hoping he would drop the subject. 

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

It wasn’t technically a lie. Most of what Danny had told you was purely based on feeling, not objective fact. It didn’t feel right to reinforce this ideology that you should be scared of someone who seems utterly fine to you. 

“I know you’re lying. You don’t need to protect me… or him.”

“Seriously, what is the beef between you two?” You let go of Jake’s hand in a moment of exasperation. 

Jake laughs, an honest-to-god laugh, one that had him doubling over where he sat. For a brief moment all the annoyance over this ridiculous conversation faded away. 

“I have no issues with him. He has several issues with me, however. You don’t have to tell me anything you know, I’m already pretty aware that everyone in this town thinks I’m-” 

“Freaky?” 

“I was going to say odd, maybe even creepy, but freaky works too I guess,” he chuckled again. 

“I know you think I’m confusing, but have you met yourself?” You were seriously getting whiplash from his mood swings. 

He rose up from beside you with a sigh, staring off at the opening the two of you had walked through earlier. 

“I don’t mean to get all macabre. I just wish you’d look a little past the surface before we continue anything. I really tried not to… get too attached to you. I don’t-” he hesitated before stopping completely. 

You wished you had his innate sense for reading people. It seemed like he lived in the depths of your mind, reading each thought before they even came to surface. 

“I suppose I should be getting you home.” He glanced at the darkening sky with a grimace, before reaching his hand back out to you. 

You took it, of course, yet you still felt strange. Nothing about this conversation had enlightened you in the slightest. In fact, you felt entirely more confused than ever before. Still not frightened. No, nothing about him had ever frightened you. Confused you, sure. Gave you butterflies, definitely. But scared you?

The walk back was wordless once again, but this time the silence held a different meaning. 

Look beyond the surface. 

What did he even mean by that? You felt like you had already glimpsed past his mysterious exterior, past the front he put on. Sure, Danny’s insight helped. Not the emotional tangents that painted a picture of a weird creep that the entire town hated. But a boy who lost his family, who grew up with his just brothers, who supported them the best he could. A guy who was into classic music, old French philosophers, and even the odd book on pirates that he tried to sneak into stacks of more profound literature. You simply didn’t understand what he had meant by anything. And it’s not like you had anyone to talk to about the situation. Danny was only going to confirm everything Jake said. In fact, you were sure he would jump at the opportunity to make you hate the guy. 

Even the drive back lacked the beautiful music from before. Sure, he still opened your door for you, still graced you with a smile that displayed all of his entirely too perfect teeth. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel like you had done something wrong. You analyzed your early conversation over and over again, picking apart every word, every shift in tone. You were so lost in thought it took you until you had reached your driveway that his cold palm was resting on your thigh. The silence felt even heavier, all the comfort from early gone, as he rushed to let you out of the passenger side once more. His hand felt unnaturally freezing against your anxiously sweaty once as he led you to your front door before pausing. 

“I’d really like to see you again. I honestly don’t have the willpower to stay away at this point,” he began, his hand snaking up to rest against your blushing cheek, “But I suppose I’d rather make this a quick goodbye before the wolves descend.” He nods his head in a direction behind you, and you turn to see Danny standing on his porch eyeing the two of you looking perturbed. 

You roll your eyes, leaning back to Jake begging him to get closer, to close the distance, to just kiss you. 

But it was too late. He was already walking down the steps, giving you one last look over the shoulder before sliding into his car and peeling out. You didn’t even have a moment to process the weirdness of the night before Danny appeared beside you. 

“Holy fuck!” You jumped, clutching a hand to your now racing heart. “You scared the fuck out of me Danny,” you breathe out, smacking him lightly. 

“So, how’d it go? Glad to see you back alive.” 

“Seriously, Danny, you have to stop with this whole thing. You’re both so dramatic,” you groan, pushing the heavy oak door open with a huff. Of course, Danny was right on your heel, begging for more information. 

“Was he as creepy as I told you he was?” He continued. 

“Danny, I’m really going to stop telling you anything if this is how you’re going to act.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. For real, how’d it go?” 

“It went…” you pause, searching for the right words. 

“Awful? Horrible? He tried to bite you and you freaked out and told him you never wanted to see him again?” 

“Bite me? What are you, twelve? It went fine, and he wants to see me again.” 

Danny grimaced, plopping down on a chair at the kitchen table. 

“Try not to look so upset.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m not upset. I just thought you were smarter than this.” 

“Okay, am I just the stupidest person in the world because there’s no way you’re the second person to question my intelligence today,” you grumble as you grab a water bottle out of the fridge, sliding one to Danny despite your annoyance towards him. 

“No! Not stupid. I just find it hard to believe that you don’t see him for what he really is.” 

“God, quit with all the cryptic ‘look deeper’ shit.” You sit down across from him with a groan, dropping your head on the table in frustration. 

“It’s hard not to be cryptic when I can’t actually tell you anything specific.” 

“That. Doesn’t. Help.” You emphasize each word by banging your head against the wooden table. 

“Hey, hey, hey, stop that.” He jolts up and grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Just promise me you’ll think about everything. It’s all laid out in front of you.” 

“Absolutely nothing is laid out in front of me,” you whine, sounding more like an annoyed toddler than anything. 

“Yes, it is. I know it is,” He sighs, letting you go, walking slowly out of the kitchen, and opening the front door– the one you always struggled with– with ease. “You’ll figure it out.” 

Figure what out? Your brain screamed as Danny left you sitting in the kitchen alone. You wished for someone to just tell you what everyone else was dancing around. It was exhausting trying to read everyone else’s mind all the time. 

What was laid out in front of you? What were you supposed to figure out? What was the big secret that everyone was so desperate to find out, yet refused to tell you outright? 

“All I wanted was to go on a date with a hot guy,” you whisper aloud to no one but yourself. It didn’t even feel like a date. He never even kissed you. 

You realized you sounded absolutely ridiculous, complaining over something so small. But everyone was driving you up the wall with their refusal to tell you the truth. Unfortunately, you were once again left with no alone time to think before your Dad waltzed in the door. 

He tossed his work bag on the kitchen table, ignoring your slumped form. 

“Rough day?” He asked, leaning against the edge of the counter facing you. 

You groan in response, rubbing your temples exaggeratedly, “Dad, do you know anything about the Kiszkas?”  

“The Kiszkas?” His brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Yeah, um, Jake, Josh, Sam. Danny said they live kind of on the outskirts of town.”

“I believe I know Josh. He’s around town a good bit.” He scratches his chin as he thinks, “He’s a great guy. Never met anyone nicer to be honest. Why do you ask?” 

“No real reason.” 

“Yeah? Not because you went out on a date with that Jake boy?” 

“How do you know about that?” 

“Danny is very persistent.” 

“Goddamn it.” 

“So, do you- do you like him?” He cringed as he spoke. 

“Are we really going to talk about boys dad?” 

“I guess not.” 

“Anyways, why are you home so late?” 

“Work emergency,’ he sighed. “So if you’re going out with boys… do you really hate this town as much as you thought you would?” He asked, his voice hopeful.

“I’m not going out with boys, I went out with one boy. And I thought we weren’t talking about this.” 

“We’re not talking about boys. We’re talking about you. Are you at least slightly happier than you expected?” 

“Yes, dad, I’m slightly happier. I’m still leaving at the end of summer.” 

“I know,” he sighed, “I just want whatever’s best for you. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah Dad, I know.” 

“Good. Alright, get some sleep. Goodnight, I- I love you.” He cleared his throat in an attempt to cover up the end of his sentence. 

“Night, dad, love you too,” you sigh as you get up from the table and trudge up the stairs. 

Your head was spinning. The first nice thing you had ever heard about the Kiszkas and it wasn’t even about Jake. You weren’t even sure it counted, since it came from your father of all people. 

Dig deeper. 

You weren’t even sure what that meant. Dig into what? No one had given you any bit of helpful information, not since you had moved here. Nothing anyone had told you had enlightened you in the slightest. 

You flop down in your bed with a huff, ignoring the disarray of clothes from early that lay around you. 

DIG DEEPER. 

You scream into your pillow, racking your brain, turning over everything that had happened today in your mind. Why couldn’t anyone just tell you the truth? What was stopping everyone from simply telling you what you were supposed to be so frightened of? Why did it have to be some big mystery that you were supposed to figure out yourself? 

You thought about Jake, how he stood out against everyone in this town. How his hands flexed when he held yours. How his skin was so cold that every touch gave you goosebumps. How his perfect smile flashed perfect, blindingly white teeth at you. 

You thought about how pale his skin was, nearly the same color of the book pages he’d flip through when he thought you weren’t looking. 

You thought about how he seemed to know everything you were thinking even before you did.

You should be scared of me. 

Scared of what? 

Your instincts should be screaming at you to run. 

Run from what?

Your thoughts became even more muddled. If anything, everything was just as frustratingly confusing as before. 

What were you supposed to think? Pale, cold skin? Vampire? 

You felt absolutely ridiculous. Vampires weren’t real. Next they were going to be telling you that Danny was a werewolf. 

You laughed at how ludicrous the thought was. 

Vampires.

Vampires. 

‘Glad to see you back alive.’ 

‘He tried to bite you and you freaked out and told him you never wanted to see him again?’ 

VAMPIRES.

Maybe you really were losing it. This wasn’t some cheesy horror movie. You weren’t some helpless girl. Vampires didn’t exist. God, the thought was so crazy you actually laughed at yourself. 

Jake wasn’t a vampire. He was just a guy. You felt stupid for even considering the thought in the first place. 

Vampires.

No way. 

Vampires. 

Nope. You were acting like a moron. Maybe you really weren’t as smart as everyone thought you were. Maybe they were right to question your intelligence. 

But… maybe not. Unless Jake really was a serial killer, that honestly made the most sense. 

No, no that made no sense. None at all. 

Vampires. Aren’t. Real. 

You were so consumed by fairytales and idiotic beliefs that you hadn’t realized the storm that had picked up outside until a jolt of thunder woke you from your stupor. The only way to know if you were right… was to ask. You couldn’t ask Jake. If you were wrong you would ruin any chance you still had left with him. You only had one person to ask. 

Danny. 

You ran down the stairs and tore the door open, for once not struggling with the weight of it. Adrenaline pounded through your body, your heart beating so hard you could feel it in your throat. The rain was falling down in blinding sleets as you ran through your muddy yard towards Danny’s. You banged on the door, knowing the only person who would ever answer at a time like this was him. 

The door ripped open in a flash, and he stood in front of you in nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants. 

“A vampire?” You yelled over the clap of thunder that roared above you. 

“What? Get inside, are you insane?” He shouted, pulling you into his entirely too warm body and closing the door quickly behind him. Rain water dripped down your face and you shuddered at the feeling of your wet clothes clinging to your now freezing skin. 

“Is Jake a vampire?” You pant out, leaning into Danny’s warm embrace. 

“W-what?” 

“Don’t call me stupid, or… or crazy, just tell me the truth. I know I sound absolutely ridiculous but is- is Jake a vampire?” 

“I- I can’t… What?” He pulls back to stare down and you, a nervous smile etched onto his face. 

“Danny, please.” 

“I can’t answer that.” 

“Why not?” 

“I just can’t.” 

“Danny, you are driving me fucking insane! I feel like I’m going psycho, can someone for once just tell me the tru-” You begin to shout before he clamps his hand over your mouth, effectively silencing you. 

“Shut up. I’m sorry, just be quiet for like two seconds, okay?” 

You nod from behind his hand.

“I can’t actually tell you anything. I want to tell you, I swear. But I physically can’t tell you.” 

“What does that even mean?” You mumble from behind his hand, but you hope he understands despite how muffled you sound. 

“It means… I can’t tell you what it means. But, if you were wrong I would laugh at you, call you an idiot, and then we’d be fine. But if- if you were right then I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything at all,” he speaks slowly, watching the gears turn in your head. It takes you a minute to understand his roundabout way of confirming your once ridiculously held belief. 

“Are you gonna yell at me again?” He whispered cautiously. 

You shake your head adamantly, allowing him to remove his hand from where it rested over your mouth. 

“So, Jake’s a…” 

He nods once. 

“How do you even know that?” 

“I-” 

“You can’t tell me. Okay. Can you tell me why you can’t tell me?” 

He shook his head no. 

“Fuck. Okay. W-what do I do?” 

“Stay away from him. He’s not safe.” 

“I’m not scared of him, Danny.” 

He sighs exasperatedly, turning away from you and running a hand through his ragged hair. He had droplets of rain clinging to his bare skin from where you had latched onto him earlier. 

“You really are extremely confusing.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“Just… go home. Change into dry clothes. Think things over.” 

“Danny, there’s nothing to think about. I still don’t even think this is true,” you laugh once again at how comical the situation seemed. 

“I know it sounds crazy, and I know I can’t control you, I’ve said it before. You’re your own person. But… you’re really on your own here.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that… if you keep seeing him I can’t protect you.” 

“Protect me? I’m perfectly capable of making sane decisions. You barely know me, Danny.” 

“Sane decisions? Hanging out with that- thing is a sane decision?” Now he was yelling, loud enough that you were worried he’d wake up the entire neighborhood, much less his parents. 

“Thing? He’s a person. And if you really cared about me, why wouldn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“Because I couldn’t!” 

“Why not?!” 

You were both screaming at this point. Screaming at each other, screaming over the downpour outside, screaming out frustrations that had been building for over a week. 

“I just can’t.” 

“That’s it?” 

He shrugged, his face red with rage. 

You storm away, throwing his door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. If his parents hadn’t woken up before they were definitely up now. You didn’t even bother to shut the door behind you as you trudged through the flood that had built up in the grass. You could barely see through the torrential rain as you stomped up your porch and into your house, dripping the entire way up the stairs. 

How had everything gotten so crazy when you had only been here a week? It was like you had entered a completely different universe the second you stepped into this town. Danny was no help and you didn’t know anyone else well enough to talk to. God forbid everyone in this town found out you thought one of their citizens was a… 

Well, the word sounded even crazier now. Maybe Danny only told you that so you’d stop hanging out with Jake. Like you’d stop seeing him now. Surely if he was a… Well, surely he wouldn’t have kept you alive this long. 

You sounded insane. Maybe you really had snapped. 

There was no way in hell that Jake Kiszka was a vampire. 

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Jizz Fingers║ ⓞⓝⓔⓢⓗⓞⓣⓢ

|| ��ꍏꀤꈤ ꂵꍏꌗ꓄ꍟꋪ꒒ꀤꌗ꓄ || | PAIRING(s): alien!Joel x reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 3.2k | CONTENT: This is a crackfic. Joel is not Joel. He’s an alien that can shapeshift and isn’t into the splorgimums on their own planet. He wants to nut in you with his creampie fingers. It’s not supposed to make sense. It’s not supposed to be anything but fun and sexy and silly. It’s meta. It’s tongue-in-cheek. It’s self-indulgent. If you’re not into that kinda thing then idk what to tell ya, bud. 

| SYNOPSIS: u get creampied by a dick finger alien Joel Miller.

The sonorous silver ship glided above you before descending gently into a large clearing in the field ahead. Bright light flooded your vision as a hidden door pushed away from the spacecraft and revealed an occupant.

It appeared to have an amorphous, fluid corporeal form, but no matter the shape it always remained an off-white greenish gray color. Six large onyx orbs were situated near the top of the form. You assumed they must be eyes or some other sort of organ. When the greenish grey flaps snapped together and apart a few times in quick succession, you realized they were in fact lidded eyes.

A warbled voice sounded inside your mind. “Do not be afraid. I come in peace, and I stand before you with no intention of harming you.”

You realize the creature is speaking to you through your own mind.

You should be afraid, but instead you’re just fascinated and exhilarated. You aren’t sure why they’d say the same thing twice, though, just in a slightly different way. You also aren’t sure if you should respond in your head, out loud, or at all.

“That’s kinda a weird thing to say. Like, you said it twice,” you point out, speaking loudly and clearly enough that the creature can hear you.

At least, you think they can hear you. You don’t see any ears. Then again, they possess the capability of telepathic speech, and there must be some equivalent to hearing for that. You try to think what that is called or what that might be called when the creature shifts back and forth but still doesn’t approach.

“Those were two separate statements,” the voice in your mind contends firmly.

“Huh?” you ask. You’re sure you sound dumb, but you were never really going to be a match for a higher level intelligent being anyways.

“When I bust, it is peaceful for every being involved. I also greet you with good intentions,” the voice patiently clarifies.

Suddenly you are standing no more than arm’s length away from the being. “I saved your achilles the trouble,” the voice in your mind said, as if it was some huge favor.

“My achilles is fine,” you grumble awkwardly. “I know I should hit leg day more, but sometimes it’s just so–”

“Our sex organs are complimentary,” the voice interrupts. “We could perform the Divine Dance, if you’d like.”

You wanted to ask why they had to come all the way to Earth just to get laid, but you think better of it.

“The splorgimums on my planet just don’t get me,” the voice explains. You realize you said your thought aloud.

“Oh. Uh, okay. S-Sorry about that. I, uh, didn’t mean to offen–”

The creature waves a gelatinous blob arm dismissively. “No offense taken. You’re not like other splorgimums. I can tell. You’re different,” it assures you.

You feel a blush creep onto your cheeks. “Oh. Well, uh–” an awkward giggle “—thank you. But I’m not really that special, here on Earth I mean. There are other women who are wayyyyyy more attractive. Oh! I know! You should try driving by Doja Cat’s house because oh my god she is so. fucking. fine. Like, if I had her in that I’m A Cow Bitch Moo costume for 5 minutes I’d—”

“No. No Doja Kitties. Only you.”

You shrug and accept their obsession with you.

“Okay. So now what? I don’t know where your Divine Dance hole is, and your floating blobs are sort of freaking me out,” you admit.

You keep tabs on the hovering goops that orbit the creature. They remind you of the time you tried to make Key Lime Jello Shots for your uncle’s cousin’s dog’s recital but added too much vodka.

“I can take the form of something pleasing to you. An earth male, perhaps? The female of your species is more difficult to capture as they are far superior.”

“So fuckin’ true,” you agree. “But, hhmmmm, a male specimen? I mean, I hate all men, but Pedro Pascal seems pretty decent. Maybe you could turn into Joel Miller? You know, from The Last of Us?”

The creature nods — you think it’s a nod — and transforms into Joel. Game Joel.

“Oh, uh, look, Pixel Daddy is fine as hell, especially in part 2, but I meant the HBO adaptation of the game. Please,” you correct.

“How’s this?” Pedro’s version of Joel’s voice asks aloud.

Your pussy bottoms out. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

You disrobe completely as you enter the spacecraft.

“I set it to 72º Fahrenheit. Is that a suitable climate for your meat suit?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Mr. Alien, could you, like, put more of the twang into his voice? And use words like he does?  Like, how he sounds on the show? You know what, let’s watch a few clips to get it right.”

You pull up your account on your phone, but it takes you a minute to find it because you forgot they changed it from HBO Max Go to just Max. “So fuckin’ stupid. Purple is a better color than blue anyway,” you mumble to yourself as you pull up an episode.

The galactic creature uses some magical time skip thing to binge the entire series and gets a yucky smudge of goop on your phone screen when it attempts to find season 2.

“There’s just one season? Please tell me there’s another one,” Joel implores.

“Yeah, there’s a second season, but it’s not out yet,” you inform him.

“Damn. But you said there’s two games already? So what happens in the second game?” he asks.

“You know what, we super don’t need to get into that right now. Let’s see what you’re working with,” you quickly change the subject and grab at his crotch.

He grunts in approval. “Needy lil thing, aren’t’cha? You want my cock, baby?”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Did you use a time jump thing to read a whole bunch of Joel Miller smutfic on Tumblr?”

Joel blushes and scratches the back of his neck. “Eh, mighta read a few.”

“Oh my god, you’re gonna be super nasty and dominant, aren’t you?” you sigh.

“Only if that’s what you want, baby. I’m a consent king,” he assures you.

“Well, alright then. I want you to rawdog me and slap my ass, okay?”

He smirks and pulls you close. “I’ll give ya what I give ya, and you just gotta take it,” he grunts into your neck as he nibbles and sucks downward.

You gasp at the sensation and grind your hips into him. “Oh fuck, Joel,” you whine. “I want you to wreck me, please!”

“Gonna fill that cunt up,” he says gruffly as he gropes your ass and breasts.

“Yes, Daddy, please!” you beg.

He pauses for a moment and looks confused.

“Oh, uh, you must not have got to those kind of fics–” you cough awkwardly “–uh, anyway. Sorry. Joel. Yes, Joel, please.”

“I can sense the vibrations of your inner sex organ when you call me that. If it is sexually gratifying to you, I wholly welcome the use of it,” the original voice says inside your mind.

“Oh wow. I love that you’re not kink shaming me. Glad you didn’t make it to that side of Tumblr,” you huff in a laugh.

Joel suddenly pins you against the wall and presses his hard, clothed cock against your bare skin. Even through the denim you can tell he’s huge. Apparently all those fic writers were right all along.

“Who’s gonna fill up that pretty cunt uh’yours, huh?” he demands as he grabs the back of your neck for leverage.

“Y-You, Daddy,” you say in an aroused tremble.

“That’s fuckin’ right. When my fat cock is inside you, I better hear you singin’ some thank you’s to Daddy for fillin’ you up so good,” he warns.

“Yes, Daddy, I’ll be your good girl,” you promise. 

He flips you around without warning and pushes your chest flush against the wall. 

“Even good girls need to be reminded every once in a while what happens if they don’t listen to Daddy,” he says in a low gruff.

His clothes have magically disappeared with the help of his alien outerspace boi powers. You feel him firm against your backside before a harsh slap of his palm replaces it. You jump and yelp in pain at the surprise spanking.

“Mmmm, pretendin’ you don’t want it, but I feel you pushin’ your ass back for more,” he taunts. 

You whine because he’s right. You can only imagine the derisive comments he’d make if he felt how wet you are. 

He lands another three harsh swats on the same patch of skin. Tears prickle up in your eyes. “D-Daddy,” you moan. 

“You gonna thank Daddy for keepin’ you in line, baby?” Another swat. It stings so much you know there must be an imprint of his hand clearly outlined by your welting red flesh.

“Thank you, Daddy!” you choke out. “Th-Thank you for k-keeping me your good girl and not letting me b-be bad, Daddy. I only wanna be good for you, Daddy!” you wail.

“That’s what I like’tuh hear, baby,” he grunts into your ear. “Ask Daddy to make you into his own little cocksleeve. Ask Daddy to give you this big, fat cock.”

You whimper as he slips his length between your folds and rubs back and forth in teasing passes. 

“Daddy, I want you to use my pussy. I need it so bad. Please. I just wanna be your cocksleeve. Use my holes, Daddy,” you whimper.

You barely finish your sentence when he flips you around again and lines himself up with your entrance. Apparently the alien creature was just as into this as you are because their altered form reverted back to the amorphous gray green blob. You’re way too horny to be picky about it right now, so you squeeze your eyes shut. You forgot to charge your vibrator, anyway.

Their penis was more like fingers that kinda moved around randomly. You don’t know. You’re not an astrophysicist or whoever it is that would best be knowledgeable about alien wieners.   

Its spongy gray appendage felt firm and slimy as it entered you. There was some sort of phantom connection to your mouth and throat as well, the sensation of its finger-penis dragging back and forth, able to be felt in both your pussy and your mouth. It was weird, but you knew if it was Joel Miller doing it then it would somehow become totally fine and very hot. 

“You’re getting too lost in the sauce,” you whine. “You’re in your true form again. Change back.”

“Mmmmm, sorry, baby,” came the familiar gravelly voice once more.

When you felt brave enough to open your eyes again, you saw those familiar Wreck-It-Ralph sausage fingers and sighed in relief. The alien had changed back to your preferred form of Joel Miller as portrayed  by José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal.

As much as you wanted to stare at his face, you also wanted him to dick you down through the floorboards of the ship. You wiggle to sink down onto your hands and knees. “Wanna be wide open for you, Daddy,” you pout.

He makes an approving growling noise and scrambles behind you, shoving you downward between your shoulder blades until your face is smushed into the floor. He makes no effort to warn you before slamming his entire length into you. The impact of his wide tip against your cervix is so forceful it punches the air out of your lungs. You let out a panicked, strangled moan, suddenly unsure if you were going to be able to take this dick like a champ.

Joel grabs your hips for leverage and starts pistoning rough, deep strokes into your drenched pussy. “Gaahh–Goddamn! Fuckin’ chokin’ it, honey,” he rasps in a labored voice. “Feel so fuckin’ tight for me.”

“It’s s-so big, Daddy. I dunno if I can take it,” you cry.

“You can take it. You can take it for Daddy. Be a good girl or m'gonna hafta punish you,” he cautions. As a reminder of what that might entail, he strikes your backside so hard your entire body jerks as you let out a sob.

A high pitched moan gathers in Joel’s throat as you start to accommodate his size. “Yeah, fuckin’ like that, huh? Like when Daddy spanks you? Makes ya listen?”

“You’re so good to me, Daddy!” you sob. Your arousal is practically dripping down your thighs. You listen to the hum of the engines mixing with the sounds of your drooling cunt being fed Joel’s massive cock over and over again. He grabs your wrists and pulls you upward, using your limbs like reins on a horse. You have no control over the depth of penetration in these positions, and Joel is opting for nothing less than utterly devastating your pussy.

“M’gonna give you these fingers, too, baby. Know you can take it,” he pants.

He releases your arms and lets you scramble to catch yourself before faceplanting.

“Hey! You could’ve at least–”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth and take what Daddy gives you,” he snarls.

You whine and clench around him. You feel a boogery churro type object prodding at your asshole. You turn your head quickly enough to see the creature has let Joel’s arm halfway revert back into the wiggly blobby thing.

“Did I say you could turn around?” he barks. He spanks you again with his 100% Joel hand, hard enough that you know there are pinpricks of blood beginning to seep through.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” you scream.

You feel him now inside both holes. It’s overwhelming and amazing. The phantom throat thing is back again, and you like how you gag even with an “empty” mouth.

“Got enough for every hole you got and then some, sweetheart,” he practically slurs. He sounds completely wrecked.

You feel your lower belly heating up and quickly tightening.

“Oh my fucking god, Joel. I’m getting so close,” you gasp.

“THAT AIN’T MY FUCKIN’ NAME WHEN I’M STUFFIN’ YOU WITH MY COCK, SWEETHEART,” he grits out as he wraps his hand around the front of your throat and squeezes.

When your breaths quickly become hard to take, you know you’re going to come soon.

“I want your space juice inside me, Daddy!” you cry out, not caring if you’re breaking the illusion. You still needed to be clear and consensual in your approach to this intimate exchange, and you needed to address the weird topic of whether or not your birth control could do effective hand to hand combat with spaceboi cum. 

“Our sexual organs are compatible, but our reproductive hormones and liquids are not,” the voice explained in your mind.

The Jim Carrey baby grinch was kinda cute, but you still felt better knowing you weren’t going to birth a little green gremlin alien baby. (Although you did think Victor or Clementine would be nice names.)

“Put a baby in me, Daddy! Fuck your baby into me!” you beg now that you know you can’t actually get pregnant. 

“Uh, I mean, there’s just so much pregnancy fic out there,” Joel hedges carefully, still maintaining his merciless thrusts. “You don’t really wanna make this into a whole thing do you? Ya know, with the pregnancy storyline and stuff? Some users have actually said they prefer—”

“No, Joel, I’m not actually—” you interrupt in a huff “—I’m just saying it to be sexy. It sounds sexy. Besides, there’s some fic writers who basically only write creampies but none of their characters ever seem to get pregnant. It’s kinda wild. There’s a fic writer I can think  of right now, actually. She loves creampies so much.”

“So she’s just really into pussy gettin’ drenched but nobody’s gotta deal with babies? Sounds like a pretty sweet deal if ya ask me,” he approves.

“Yeah, I think the only pregnancy fic she has is, like, this really nasty oneshot where the reader is already pregnant and she gets double teamed by Tommy and you at the same time. Oh and she lactates. I wasn’t into it at first, but it was kinda hot. Maybe you’ve read it? The author calls herself Puddles?”

“Oh, her? That Gasoline Rainbow lady? I thought she just made memes?” He sounds surprised and impressed. He’s hitting your cervix repeatedly with such force that you feel like your vagina is going to look like somebody dropped a tray of lasagna on a pubic hair linoleum floor.

“No, she actually has, like, legit fic on there, too. She’s, like, really talented. I can’t believe she doesn’t have more followers,” you laugh incredulously. 

You’re glad he doesn’t ask how you would know how many followers she has since that isn’t publicly available information. You hate it when plot holes have to be smoothed out nicely and still fit in with the story. It’s so boring and way too much work sometimes.

“Maybe stuff like alien jizz fingers is a little too much for people to–”

“Okay, this is getting too meta. Let’s just get back to you fucking me so rough I can’t walk right for an entire week, okay?”

“Hnngg, fuck yeah. Daddy’s gonna wreck this cunt,” he hisses as his thrusts pick up pace.

“DADDY, I’M GONNA COME,” you cry as you start clenching and seizing around the massive circumference of his cock.

Joel lets out a guttural, choked moan as he empties inside you. You can feel it from his weird creampie fingertips, too — even the invisible one in your mouth and throat. You’re trembling, trying to keep yourself upright as Joel fucks into you through his orgasm. You lick your lips. There’s a flavor there. Is that….?

“You like Daddy’s brisket cum, sweetheart?” he grunts as his thrusts slow to a sloppy grind.

“I thought I tasted barbecue,” you muse. It was bewildering, but mostly satisfying.

“Yeah, tastes just like those Fourth of July backyard get-togethers you love in that Texas heat,” he breathes. "You runnin' around in barely anything, makin' me hafta adjust myself so your dad don't catch his best friend ogling his precious daughter."

“I’m starting to think you read more fic than you admitted to earlier,” you assert.

“I like it, darlin’,” he shrugs.

“Are you gonna follow Puddles now? Oh! Can you do a mind link thing with her and see what she’s working on next?” you implore.

Joel appears to zone out for a minute, and you take the opportunity to stare at his naked body. He looked perfect. His eyes focused again as he looked at you.

“Her waveforms are erratic and very concerning, but once I subdued a Brain Goblin inside her mind I was able to discern she is likely to be releasing some Ezra from Prospect centered fictional stories,” the voice inside your head revealed. "They are very sexually aggressive."

“Nice,” you say under your breath.

“So you gonna let me have that sweet pussy again, sweetheart?” Joel drawls.

“Yes. But I’m going to need you to familiarize yourself with Pedro’s extensive works. I’m thinking we could do some really great Mando roleplay in this spaceship,” you say with a big smile as you gesture around.

Joel smirks at you. “Don’t matter what form I take. You’re still gonna be callin’ me Daddy.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you agree with a big grin.

I hope those splorgimums understand what they lost bc that's our man now! Special thanks to Multiversed Daydreamer (Fuzz) for inspiring part of the title and @xdaddysprincessxx for the shared derangement over That Old Man™.

Undying thanks to @psychedelic-ink and @bonezone44 for writing some of my fave ~aLtErNaTiVe KiNk CoNtEnT~ and inspiring me to let my brain run wild with this crackfic.

Art in graphic includes transformed works of the Mucinex booger man.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

P.S. - I counted how many times "Daddy" appears in this, and it's 29.

tagging: @wannab-urs, @gracieispunk, @milla-frenchy, @patti7dc. @lumoverheaven, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, @toxicanonymity, @rubyfruitjungle, @huffle-punk, @jupiter-soups, @swiftispunk, @theywhowriteandknowthings

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you (Pt. 2)

Prologue (Pt. 1) | On AO3 here: i'm outta my head over you | the playlist

Pt 2 to my @steddie-week 2023 entry! this is really the 'first day' entry, but pt. 1 is the prologue :P

today's prompt is: pining

Eddie takes his time after Robin leaves. Finishing the cigarette she made him put out and doing his best to focus on the tune he was expirimenting with on his acoustic before he was interrupted. The curiosity gets the best of him though (of course) and he sets his guitar back down, picking up the papers Robin had handed to him.

He starts to read what he had (correctly) thought was a tracklist.

'Heartbeat? Okay, so it's a sappy love playlist.' He thinks to himself. "The hell's that got to do with me?" he asks aloud to no one.

There's a slightly lighter colored scrawl of "Dustin doctor FRIDAY at 3" written into the top margin of this scanned page, like someone had used a different color pen than the rest of the book, and continuing on--

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Eddie reads the first sentence, and he suddenly feels like he's going into cardiac arrest.

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

Looking back, Steve counts himself insanely lucky that it was Nancy he was dating when he first really noticed Eddie Munson.

Of course, he’d noticed the older boy before, it was hard not to, but the first time he really looked at him, really saw him…he wanted to throw up.

He was actually really pretty. Wait, can a guy be pretty? It doesn’t matter. Eddie is. 

His hair is dark and curly, some curls licking down his face and swirling over his cheekbones, some curling up behind his ears. If it was straight, his hair would definitely look like an overgrown bowlcut. Fuck, it looked soft.

Eddie’s a year above him, a Senior, so it kind of makes sense that he’s a bit broader than Steve is..wait, is he? Or is it just that vest he’s wearing, making him look bigger…

His eyes are dark, brows furrowed, lips yanked back in a snarl–oh yeah, he was in the middle of telling someone off. That’s what called Steve’s attention to him.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

He wrenches his eyes from the side of Eddie’s face to look down at Nancy. He locks eyes with her and was when he noticed how hard his heart was beating.

That, and the fact her eyes were the wrong color.

‘Wrong color?? The hell? They’re blue, they’ve always been blue.’

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Nance.” Steve looks back up at Eddie. “He’s kinda scary isn’t he. Should I do something?”

“Steve–”

He doesn’t wait for her answer, and approaches Eddie and whoever it is that earned his tirade.

Steve pushes through the gathered crowd, right next to Eddie’s victim. “What’s happening here, guys?” Steve’s snarky ‘King Steve’ smile appears easily on his face, then he notices who he came in next to. “Tommy? What’re you doing man?”

“Oh you know, the usual.” Tommy’s grin makes Steve sick to his stomach. He looks away, down to the empty plastic fountain pop in his hand.

“The usual, huh?” Steve scoffs, turning to Eddie.

Mistake. Mistake! 

Eddie’s dark eyes lock with his and Steve feels weak in the knees ‘ What the hell?? ’

“Welcome to the show, my liege!” Eddie bows low, and Steve sees the short kid that was hiding behind him. Must be a freshman, huge, panicked eyes stare at him under a mass of poofy curly hair (lighter than Eddie’s). An oversized red plaid flannel is resting on his shoulders, and a large dark stain coats his shirt beneath. Ah.

Eddie straightens, and the little freshman is obscured again. That’s when he realizes the denim vest Eddie is wearing is all he’s wearing above the waist. Steve’s stomach twists pleasantly at the sight of Eddie’s pale skin. ‘ What. The. Fuck. Don’t turn red, look away, look away!! ’

Steve locks eyes with Eddie once again, and it’s not much better. Fuck, those eyes…

What the hell is happening to him?? His heart’s beating like crazy. He glances over, and Nancy and her ginger friend with the glasses are watching, twin looks of panic and disgust on their faces.

“Munson here was just introducing me to one of our new little friends!” Tommy’s tone makes Steve’s stomach twist unpleasantly.

“Really Tommy, a freshman? How cliché can you get? Leave the kid alone, man.”

“Really Dude?” Tommy mocks, “What’s it to you? That girl’s making you slip, man.”

It’s not entirely false; it is true that Nancy’s made it easier to get out from behind his King Steve self more often than not, but there was always a part of him that wanted to be better.

Steve just shrugs. “No more messing with the freshmen, Tommy. Show’s over, assholes, get out of here!” he yells over the crowd as he turns his back on his friend’s(?) sputtering face. Facing Eddie again, he asks, “Sorry, Munson, your friend okay?”

Ugh. Even he cringes inwardly at how insincere that sounded. How’d that come out so wrong?

Eddie just gives him a look, and shakes his head, “C’mon Gareth,” he wraps a long arm around the kid behind him while still shielding him from view. “Our benevolent ruler has allowed us to leave unharmed; let’s abscond before he changes his mind.” Eddie shoots Steve another glare over his shoulder and disappears into the dispersing crowd of students.

Nancy and her friend stay behind. Barb. Her name is Barb. 

Barb says something to Nancy, and when she nods in return, Barb leaves for her next class.

Nancy moves to step up to his side again, but he’s whirled around and Tommy’s in his face.

“What the fuck is your deal, Harrington?”

Steve shoves him back, “I already fuckin’ told you. Leave the freshmen alone.”

It’s not a lot, he knows Tommy’s going to over-correct and start berating the sophomore class relentlessly, but that kid looked so scared.. Fuck, he’s a coward. 

“You’re going soft, Harrington.” Tommy shoulder checks him as he walks past him and past Nancy, who gives him a wide berth.

“Sorry, Nance.” he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

She levels him with a look. “What was with you and that senior?”

“Nothing, nothing!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

The look on her face says she doesn’t believe him.

Not that much longer after that, she knows he wasn’t telling the truth. After getting beaten up by Jonathan Byers, Barb going missing from his backyard, almost dying…his whole world being turned upside-down (hah), he deserves to tell someone the truth about his not crush on Eddie Munson…

He asks her “Munson’s pretty right? I mean, for a guy.”

“Do you think he’s pretty, Steve?” she asks in lieu of a response, soft tone and smile letting him know he’s okay to talk to her about it.

His stomach twists, he wants to throw up. He still really likes Nancy, still likes girls, why does he feel all gooey about a guy ? About Eddie ?

“I don’t know, Steve.” She says. Oh shit, he said that out loud. “But it’s okay that you do, you know. I won’t see you any differently.”

The knot in his stomach loosens slightly.

She looks down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap. “It’d be hypocritical of me if I did.”

Steve hugs her then. They stay together, they’re just fine…until they’re not.

They drift apart after that. They hang on for a while, they do care for each other afterall, but everything falls apart at that damn Halloween party.

Steve doesn’t blame her, not fully. Especially when he’s been not so subtly mooning after someone else (Nancy smiles knowingly at him every time she catches him staring at Eddie across the hall or across the cafeteria), and especially not after as much as she’s had to drink.

She’s right to call their relationship bullshit, even if it stings, because it kinda was. Him pining hopelessly after some guy, but still desperately trying to hold onto what he thinks he needs to do while doing so.

Trying to hold onto the future that he’s expected to have. A wife, a house with a picket fence, two kids. All that.

Nancy starts dating Jonathan, and Steve’s happy for them, really, but even he doesn’t know how okay he actually is until he’s jumped in Reefer Rick’s boathouse.

There’s a forearm across his chest, an elbow digging into his right shoulder, a hip pressed to his own, another face only inches away, and he’s head over fucking heels.

Those dark eyes that haunted him in the halls of Hawkins High are suddenly so close he can see just how rich a brown they really are, even around the sheer panic in their forefront. 

The dark curls that Steve wanted to wrap around his fingers three years ago are longer, more full, down to Eddie’s shoulders now, though dirty and matted in some places from his time on the run.

If there wasn’t a broken glass bottle pressed to his neck right now, he’d be fully tempted to just plant one on the other man. Instead, Steve stays perfectly still, echoing anything Dustin says that might get the sharp glass away from his jugular.

Eddie’s eventually convinced to let Steve go, but somehow keeps hold of his heart. Metaphorically wrenching it from Steve’s chest and tucking it away into an inner pocket of his leather jacket.

‘This is the literal worst time for this shit, Harrington, pull yourself together.’ Steve chides himself as he catches his breath. ‘Save him. Get him out of this first, THEN you can worry about your feelings for him.’

Awesome, great plan.

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

Ok.

Yep.

This is a thing that is happening to him today.

The tape in his hand, the messy scrawled notes that were so lovingly delivered to him, were made by Steve "The Hair" Harrington about him, Eddie "The Freak" Munson. 

He must've died back there in the upside down. This is not real. 

How has Steve been pining for him for that long? Especially if that first entry is true, all the way back when now-about-to-go-into-Senior-year Gareth had just started at Hawkins High??

Eddie stops himself from reading the rest of Steve's (Steve's!!) handwriting to dash inside to the phone. The rest of this deserves to be read with the tape playing anyway.

First things first: "Robin! Birdie, Buckley, best woman in the world!" he yells, vibrating where he stands with the phone against his ear.

"Munson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, infuriatingly nonchalant.

"You know damn well why I'm calling. This is Steve's tape?" He's only slightly embarrassed by the anxious squeak that comes out of him when he says Steve's name.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robin says, then promptly hangs up on him.

Part 3!

yes, i did in fact use my own handwriting as steve's :o)

[ijustwantogohomehogwarts]

The Colors of the Rainbow

Timothée asks y/n what color he reminds her of, and she puts a lot more effort into an answer than he could ever imagine.

Warnings and such: it's. so. fluffy. also like one swear word? illusions to "adult situations" but nothing bad! not proofread!

A/N : i'm backkkk!! not gonna lie, i didn't expect to be gone nearly a month, but life sucks lately and it just kinda happened...im sorry!!! thanks for the continued love and support! also- i get my cast off in like 10 days! yay!

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

"what color do you associate me with?"

His voice drew my attention away from the book in hand, the first words spoken aloud in hours. it was thought provoking; a color?

"what do you mean?"

"when you hear my name, what color do you think of?"

I had never thought of that before, but now seemed a good a time as any. I allowed my eyes to wonder over him as I thought about the best answer.

Red: bold and beautiful. a bright color, attention grabbing and hard to look away from. the color of our bedroom lights after too many nights spent apart. the color of his eyes after he smokes too much and giggles on the couch. The color of our lips when we finally pull away, gasping quietly for breath. Red. The metaphor of blood shed that went into making us, and making us work. red, bold and beautiful.

Orange: autumn. obviously. the color of pumpkins, of crazy sunsets and sunrises, worthy of photographs we'll never look at again but in the moment, it's important. the color of comfort, warmth and a cool breeze. orange, deep like fire, the burning desire for him, for me, for each other. the color that paints my insides when i look at him and remember that he is mine.

Yellow: not the neon yellow, but the soft yellow. the yellows the paint the sky for a brief moment in the early hours of the day, when the world is waking up again and the day is starting. the color that floods our bedroom and allows dust to dance in the air around us. the last color we see as we fall asleep together. the color night owls are always chasing. for him, it's the color he radiates when he walks into the room, bright and happy, a glow that follows him and intoxicates everyone in his path.

Green: earthy and holy. natural beauty, like the nature we crave amidst the bustle of the new york city. not a color i see him on often, but the color of his eyes. the color i get lost in when he talks, drunk on the sound of his voice. the color behind his entire world. it's calming and comforting. it's him. a color i would happily see every day for the rest of my life. a color i plan to see for eternity.

Blue: the color of water and cleanliness. he loves his showers, his pools, and the rare trips on boat rides for secret swimming holes. a water bug through and through. the color for which he starts every morning, a fresh start. the color of winter, cool and quiet. for nights spent close together under heavy blankets, skin on skin. the color that accompanies him to premieres and interviews, a color that demands attention in the softest tone.

Purple: both the softest and deepest versions. a child-like representation of each, a playful color. a color which adorns his body on quiet days spent shopping, or nights gallivanting around for basketball games and bars with his friends. a color i often associate with nights home without him, the undeniable fact that he'll stumble through the front door in the early hours of the morning, the smell of alcohol lingering on his breath as he tells me he loves me.

White: innocent, clean, wholesome. a stereotypical color, but there's truth to it. sure, he's not pure in the sense of what the color stands for traditionally (can you blame a girl?) except he is. through all of life's changes, the good, the bad, and everything in between, he's stayed true to who he is. he's happy, ready for life's adventures. he wants to be the person his generation can look up to, someone who defies the odds and makes a name for himself on his own. he doesn't need, or want, poor publicity or the lingering story of being a hollywood fuckup. he won't be- he can't be.

Pink: a color typically labeled for feminism, but golly doesn't he look beautiful in pink! it's bold and impossible to look away from. the lightest shades for the purest and most innocent, the darkest shades for the most demanding and defiant. why not break stereotypes?! the clothes make the man, so they say...but for him? no. he makes the clothes. he's what pulls the outfit together, the one who makes the color beautiful. beautiful, like the color that paints his cheeks when his heart flutters in his chest.

Gray: a color for balance. there's never light without the dark. with good days, comes bad. we get tired, sick and worn down but it reminds us we are human. a color reserved for coffee runs on lazy sundays, after sleeping away the stress of the previous week and preparing ourselves for the next. a comforting color, one that reminds us we are allowed to be sad, but the feeling will pass and the sun will shine again. be patient, good things take time.

***

"Black." I settled on the answer with a smile.

"Black?!"

"Yes!"

"Why?! That's the most basic color!" He chuckled softly, nudging me with his foot.

"No, it's the most important color."

"Important?"

"Well, it's a perfect combination of all the colors, and all their qualities. You've got the best of them all, love."

"How so?" There was no hiding the color pink on his cheeks.

Black: the perfect combination of all the colors that exist. the best qualities mashed into one, leaving ample opportunity to add more of the color that's most needed. black, the color of the room which we share in the middle of the night, where the only sounds are soft snoring or heavy moaning. sometimes both. it's in this color where we find solace in one another, an indescribable feeling of peace, a place which we call home. in the arms of the man i love. all the colors in the world, every combination of letters in every language- it'll never be enough to express the gratitude i have for the stars above that lead me to him.

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Jackets

Keith knows his jacket is bound to get ruined at some point during this chaotic war.

But hurts seeing the red material that has provided him comfort for so many years in tatters. All he can think of is blurry images of his dad wearing it, telling a younger version of Keith that someday he'll be as cool as his dad and wear cropped jackets.

It's all Keith really has left of his dad, so he can't help it when a tear slips down his cheek.

It's almost funny, really. All his hard work trying to seem emotionless to the other paladins only to flee the room in tears because of a stupid jacket.

He's hiding in the observatory, nestled against the wall in a dark corner. He spends a lot of time in here, so there's a few pillows and blankets already piled around him.

He's shaken from his thoughts by a soft knock on the door.

Well, there isn't really a door to the observatory, but there's a knock on the metal archway that serves as the entrance.

He stays absolutely silent (apart from the occasional sniffle) and hopes that it's just Shiro, and that he'll leave Keith alone.

"Um, hey, Keith? Bud? Are you... in here? You kinda ran out of there and... are you alright? Should I leave? Oh, dang it, this is stupid, I should leave. But can you at least confirm your existence so that I can tell Shiro that you're not missing?"

Keith inwardly groans. There's only one paladin who rambles like that, and he knows that Lance isn't likely to just leave once he hears the teary crack in Keith's voice.

So he quiet until Lance walks over to his pity nest (yes, that's what Keith is officially calling it, It's literally a nest that he built, he blames that on his Galra instincts) and sits down next to him.

"So... I knew that you have horrible fashion sense, but it's clearly worse than I thought if you're this upset about the jacket. If you want, we can go to the space mall and get you a jacket that will actually.. you know, keep you warm?"

Keith can feel the next wave of tears coming on. Desperately fighting them back, he whispers, "No. You can't r-replace it. It was my dad's. He's not here anymore."

He winces when he hears the wet crackle in his voice, it's clear that he's been sobbing.

Lance looks over at him with something in his eyes that Keith doesn't recognise.

"Oh. He's dead then?"

The way Lance says it is so matter-of-fact that Keith wants to scream.

"Yes! He's gone, and I'm alone! Are you happy now? Just go away. You clearly don't care about me, and you're right, the jacket is dumb. Do me a favor and throw it out while you go."

The guilt that flashes on Lance's face is almost enough for Keith to apologize, but he doesn't. Lance already knows what he's like, and if you mess with fire, you get burned.

Wordlessly, Lance starts to shrug of his own olivey green-brown jacket. Once it's off, he holds it out to Keith with a sheepish frown and diverted eyes.

"That was insensitive. I shouldn't have acted like that about your dad or the jacket. You can have mine, though. It used to be my older sister's, but once we get back to Earth I can just ask her for another."

Lance sounds so sure, so certain that they will make it back. Keith wishes he had even a fraction of that blind confidence. But then again, even if they do make it back, he has nothing waiting for him on his home planet. Nothing but a whole lot of pain.

Keith stares into Lance's steady blue eyes. Why the sudden show of empathy? All they ever do is argue, Keith knows that he's hardly Lance's favorite paladin. They're barely even friends.

"That's not true. We are friends. Or at least... we could be. "

Dammit. Keith must have said that aloud.

He reaches out hesitantly and takes the jacket. When he slides it on, the sleeves flop over his hands, and it swallows him whole. He glares at Lance when he hears a small snicker.

However, despite the size, it's comfortable and warm, and it kind of maybe smells nice. (And it's possible that he likes the bigness.)

He glances over at Lance to see the other boy blushing.

"Thank you. I... words are weird, but... I- thanks."

Keith flushes red across his cheeks and at the tips of his ears and looks down at the ground quickly.

"It's warmer than my old one."

Lance smiles warmly, and to Keith's surprise, shifts closer to wrap an arm around him. Keith doesn't know how, but they've maneuvered to that he's very slightly on Lance's lap, and annoyingly enough, it's quite comfortable.

He leans his head back onto Lance's chest and feels the other paladin chuckle softly, making his chest rumble a bit.

They don't talk after that, they don't have to. They just sit together and stare up at the stars visible through the observatory's glass roof, feeling tiny and so, so huge at the same time.

Keith is attached to that jacket now and wears it absolutely everywhere, but that doesn't mean anything! It's a nice jacket! (That still smells like Lance...)

[thefandomenchantress]

Why Does Ace Hate Levi Now?

This is a little random, but I was thinking about Despair Time (as always) and I kinda went down the rabbit hole of why exactly Ace refuses to forgive Levi now. This is just my interpretation, so I could be completely wrong, but here’s what I’m thinking:

One thing I noticed about Ace’s newfound hatred of Levi is that the reason for it he always states aloud is that Levi threatened to kill him. So originally, my line of thinking was just that Ace was scared Levi would go through with that threat, since Ace’s main reason for being friends with Levi was because he felt safe around him.

And maybe that is part of the reason he dislikes Levi now. But then it got me thinking: Why hasn’t Ace ever really brought up how Levi called him a coward? I mean, he kinda alluded to it when he was doing that villain speech in the cafeteria, but besides that he’s never really mentioned it.

Which is weird??? Ace makes a big point during his villain speech that everyone thinks he’s a useless, cowardly idiot (And to be fair, some of his classmates have said to his face that they do indeed think that), so you’d think every time Levi tried to apologize he’d bring it up. And yet, he’s always fixated on Levi’s death threat.

Obviously, a death threat is very serious. But the fact Ace never seems to guilt trip Levi over his insult as well is a bit strange. Which brings me to my main point.

Maybe, that comment about him being a coward is what is ACTUALLY stopping Ace from forgiving Levi?

I’m not saying the death threat doesn’t play a part at all, I’m sure it does, but the fact that unless he’s totally freaking out Ace never really brings up Levi’s negative comment makes me think that it really does play a major role here.

I’m sure most people in the killing game didn’t really like Ace in chapter 1, and some of them even told him how much of an unlikeable idiot he was to his face. So I’d imagine he probably believed that Levi was the one person in the class who DIDN’T think he was an idiotic coward, since Levi was willing to be his friend.

And then…

That belief was shattered. And now Ace doesn’t want to believe Levi is his friend anymore, because I’m sure that having the one person that he’d formed a bond with say that hurt. And he doesn’t want to take the chance of that happening again.

It’s no secret that Ace is probably one of the most insecure characters in DRDT. So no matter how many times Levi apologizes, Ace can’t let it go. Because he thinks that Levi believes he’s a stupid, useless idiot just like everyone else does.

Honestly, this would explain the ‘I do not need your pity’ line from after Levi tries to take Ace to the infirmary.

Ace thinks that Levi doesn’t actually want to be his friend. He thinks Levi’s just pitying him, because no one else will be his friend. He thinks Levi is silently thinking he’s a pathetic coward and is just pretending to care, and as soon as Ace steps too far out of line Levi’s ‘true colors’ will show, as Ace puts it.

Ace thinks the Levi who called him a coward is the true Levi. And anything Levi says to contradict this is obviously a lie so that Ace will trust him again.

But telling Levi how much the insult bothered him would mean admitting he actually cared about Levi’s opinion, as well as Levi himself at one point, and Ace is unwilling to admit that. So he says the reason he won’t be friends with Levi is because of the death threat, and nothing else.

…Or maybe I’m overthinking everything again…I don’t know it’s 2am as I’m writing this so hopefully this all makes sense. Thanks for sticking around to read this to the end. :)

[keplercryptids]

i often refer my friends to your blog when they need help with alt text and have some questions abt it so i figured youre someone good to ask about it :")

when i look up resources on google it always tells me to keep its as breif as possible and a couple sentences max and when i look on tumblr everyone seems to guide people into writing way more wordy alt text and im just kinda confused on what to do 🫠 i often feel like my descriptions on my art are too long and would be annoying to listen to with a screen reader

something else thats been bugging me to hell and back too and ties into the what articles say vs what tumblr says is how to write alt text for images with a lot of information, if i were to post like a doodle sheet or anything else with several different drawings in one image should i describe every single one of them or just write something like "several doodles of character doing different things"?

i understand alt text and image description are two different concepts, guides on google guide me more towards alt text and guides on tumblr guide me towards image descriptions i feel like i should find a balance but i dont know where that balance would be TT

hi!

alt text and image descriptions are not necessarily distinct things: alt text = image descriptions that show up in the alt text of an image, to be automatically read aloud by screen readers. alt text is often brief, but i think the way a lot of articles talk about alt text is to appeal to a certain audience - businesses and web developers, etc - and so the stress on brevity makes sense. you don't want to bog people down in a lot of detail if you're trying to sell them stuff, etc.

IMO, describing art is different. i don't think blind and low vision folks should be universally excluded from detailed descriptions of art. that's kind of a massive bummer to think about, actually.

and that's not to say that image descriptions shouldn't be brief. it depends. i always hesitate to give hard and fast rules for descriptions, because 1. blind and low vision folks have individual preferences just like everybody else, and 2. CONTEXT is the most important thing when it comes to image descriptions. rules on what should always be included in a description sometimes fall flat because the context is what matters most.

you should strive for a certain amount of brevity while making sure you include the proper context. by that i mean, for example, sometimes the colors in a piece are there to invoke a certain mood, and so you can sum up the mood of a piece (cheerful, cold, dark, dreamy etc) without listing every color. sometimes the poses of a doodle sheet are relevant, contextually, to whatever the image/post is about, and sometimes they're not.

image descriptions are a judgment call, and there isn't (and can't be!) one universally "correct" way to write them. just do your best and focus on what is contextually important, without getting bogged down in excess irrelevant detail, and you'll probably be in a good spot.

[cup1dxzs]

Darling Little Puppet

Wally Darling X Reader

Chapter 7- Sleepover!

Feeling Wally finally loosen his death grip on your wrist you’d sigh in relief, feeling blood circulating back into your hand.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, I have some clothes Julie left when we were playing dress up.” Wally spoke as he looked off in thought, beginning to drag you along to the entrance of his living home, you’d stay silent as you just complied. ‘Is this what it feels like to be some kids pet? It’s an absolute hell.’ You pondered, feeling bad for every animal you’ve pet too hard or simply suffocated with your love, but of course they had it worse since they couldn’t speak at all, you’d think that you were kinda on the same boat because you were sure that even if you did speak your words would get ignored.

Once inside the house Wally urged you to have a seat on the couch, telling you to wait there as he disappeared into a random hallway, finally alone you’d allow yourself to wind down and that included you whispering to yourself “What the actual fuck, there’s no fucking way this is real…” a loud slam was heard behind you, causing you to scream in surprise and jump out of your seat falling to the floor in a dramatic sense, accidentally knocking over the bowl of apples from the coffee table and to the floor along with you, frantically looking to see who or what caused the noise as you popped right back up to look around for a better measure that it wasn’t that yellow fucker being a dick.

“Home doesn’t enjoy when people use naughty words, if you’re gonna stay here you have to be nice, can you do that?” Wally seemingly appeared right behind you, making you have another mini heart attack as you jumped away from him causing you to trip on an astray Apple and end up falling on your ass, not bothering to get back up this time.

“Yea whatever, maybe next time don’t just teleport behind me, it’s creepy.” You snarled at him, mentally face palming yourself for losing your cool so easily, especially in front of a stranger, that you somehow knew from watching a Tv show made for kids? It didn’t help to see him brush off your words like nothing and instead stick out his felted hand to help you up, it actually made you feel worse for being mean.

‘I need to cool it, he’s only trying to help me and I’m over here with a sour attitude.’ You’d sigh as you took his hand without another word, it was soft and warm which made you question if puppets had internal organs, or were they filled with stuffing? Even if they were filled to the max with fluff it wouldn’t explain how his hand was warm, but then again you did run into a caterpillar and a giant red bird so it probably was just as unexplainable as that.

“I brought you a blanket this one is my favorite, isn’t just the most? I would let you sleep in the guest room but it’s not exactly…ready.” Wally softly rambled on as he shoved the blanket into your arms, not being a complete ass you’d mutter a low “Thanks…but is there anything I can do to clean my face, and brush my hair?” You’d turn your head a little bit to tend to your hair as you’d pluck out a twig and leaf, making a face of distaste you’d turn your head back, meeting eyes with Wally caused you to involuntarily shiver, seeing his pupils just blown so wide as he smirked at you made you feel unsettled. It didn’t help to see him just stand there completely motionless, staring dead at you, he’d continue that look for another few seconds before he seemingly snapped out of it.

“I supposed I could go look for something of the sorts.” Wally pondered aloud as he turned around and went to go look for the things you’d had requested for, leaving you there while you stood awkwardly holding the plush blanket.

Finally easing up you’d sigh in relief as you felt much better to get rid of your tense shoulders, you hadn’t even realize you’d develop due to this very stressful day. Gently setting down your blanket on the couch that would soon be your bed tonight, you’d slowly bent down and began to pick up the apples you’d knocked over, taking a notice of how perfect they looked it was almost unreal.

By the time you’d finish by placing the last apple in the bowl and setting it atop the table, there wasn’t anything that could cure your burning curiosity and there wasn’t anything to stop you as you picked up one of the apples, you’d raise it to your face as you prepare to take a bite not long before you’d hear Wally panicking as he spoke, “Wait! Those aren’t-“ Too late. You’d already had taken the bite, looking down you’d be met with a very white inside, “-real apples, they’re just for display..” He’d finish his sentence as he cringed at you, watching you realize that you’d actually take a bite out of a styrofoam apple, your face burning up in embarrassment as you spat out the piece you’d bitten off, no wonder it looked so perfect.

“If you wanted some food you should’ve told me, it wouldn’t be very neighborly of me to keep my guest hungry.” Wally spoke as he set down a basket of what you assumed were the items you had requested beforehand. “No I just- The apples looked too good to be true…I guess they were too good to be true.” You’d dejectedly sigh as you sat down on the couch, hearing Wally snicker at your pain while he slowly slid the basket of items towards you encouraging you to look inside.

“Most of the stuff is things Julie leaves behind when we have sleepovers, I’m sure you’ll know what to do with them. If you need me I’ll be in the kitchen.” He left without another word, leaving you alone on the couch as you’d sort through the basket, you’d grab the essentials which included a hair brush and some make up wipes to clean your face, praying that they would get the job done, you’d ask him later if he had any clothes like he had mentioned earlier.

You were in for a night, a long one at that.

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So sorry for the late post guys something came up and I just couldn’t edit it in time!! But now it’s here hope u enjoy!! :D

-ChillyKitty