#short as the chapter may be i feel it has some good stuff in it

[redo-rewind-if]

Just a quick heads up: For any who haven't seen it, Chapter 4 released yesterday!! Yay!! 🎉🎉🎉

Given its release, I won't be doing the usual progress report today (possibly not next week either since I like to take breaks between updates, but I do have something I plan to post about then).

If you missed the update post and would like to see it, you can find it here: [Link]

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!�� He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ���Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

[lovesodakid]

shadows of the dark

matt sturniolo x reader

1 3 4 5

summary : growing up in the ‘middle of nowhere’ small town in lochcliff, colorado, stories were heard of multiple strange disappearances, murders, animal attacks, and more. when you were younger, you never paid attention to that stuff. now at the age of 17 it’s all you ever hear about. what happens when you realize those ‘stories’ you heard growing up, may not just be scary fairytales people tell their kids.

warning ⚠️ : contains mature themes, smut, gore (nothing insane), angst, etc. this warning is for all chapters.

(this does take some inspiration from tvd !)

chapter 2 : history & new kids

the sound of loud clapping causing the commotion of the students to quiet down as the assuming new teacher strides into the classroom. her black heels clicking across the white tiled floor below her.

“good morning everyone! i’m mrs. johnson, im so excited to work with you guys this year and welcome to your junior year of high school!” she exclaims enthusiastically.

“now why don’t we start with-”

she’s cut off by the sound of the classroom door opening, the hinges making an ear-raping scream cutting through the silence of the enclosed room.

“is this the language arts room?” the husky voice questions.

my eyes trail from mrs. johnson over towards the mysterious man in the doorway. starting at his pants, which are a pair of blue denim baggy jeans, his black shirt being halfway covered by the black leather jacket he’s paired it with.

until i catch a glimpse of his face. the same face we passed earlier this morning in the car. it’s almost as if he can sense me looking at him when that very second, his eyes snap over to mine. his blue piercing irises gazing into mine. his stare so distinct, i feel as though he can read every thought in my brain. i swear i even see his lips curving into a small smirk.

“yes! welcome! take a seat wherever you want, what’s your name first?” mrs. johnson’s voice interrupting whatever hypnotic state i was just in.

my eyes immediately shooting down to my desk in front of me, nervously picking at the wood.

“matthew. matthew sturniolo.” i hear his biker boots clatter against the floor, coming right beside me until he comes to a short lived halt. my body recognizing the feeling of his stare on the top of my head, until he continues his stride to a few seats behind me to my right.

“sturniolo?” she questions. “sturniolo as in…carmilla sturniolo?”

the sound of rough chuckles coming from behind me, causing my nerves to shiver. i’m not quite sure what kind of effect he has over myself, but i don’t know if i like it either. “yes ma’am.”

the town of lochcliff has its ‘respected’ family names. the blackwell’s, the whitlocks, steven’s, and more. they’re known to have helped in the founding of the town around 150 years ago. the sturniolo’s being one of those family’s. although, it has been rumored that 20 years ago, the last of the sturniolo bloodline was brutally murdered on his way to work one morning. but his body was never found, hence - rumors.

carmilla sturniolo was the first woman to ever be apart of the city hall’s council. back then, it wasn’t as easily as it is today for a woman to get a job like that. carmilla’s name has been passed around from mouth to mouth for years. her, going down in the towns historical records.

she was also rumored to have been murdered. or attacked by animals some say. no one really knows the full truth on what happened to carmilla sturniolo on that fateful night of october 21st 1898.

“well, it is so lovely to meet you matthew. i hope you will enjoy my class.” mrs. johnson says as she gives him a warm smile. “okay now, back to what you can expect this year.”

-

“have you seen that christopher sturniolo guy?” jayde’s enthusiasm laced voice asks from beside me.

the rest of first period, and then the whole of my second and third periods went by in a blur. as jayde and i now sit in our free period in her car in the schools parking lot, debriefing on how our days have been so far.

“no, his name is matthew.” i correct her as i take a handful of cheez itz i got out of the vending machine.

she quickly shakes her head back and forth. “no his name is christopher. he’s new. he’s a total babe and snack. dark brown hair, bright blue eyes. literally the epitome of my type.” she exhales.

my eyebrows crease i stare at her, clear confusion taking over my features.

“there’s a guy who looks exactly the way you described in my first period. and his last name is sturniolo, but his name is matthew.”

she begins…giggling?

“oh my god! what if they’re twins!” she shoots up excitedly.

“don’t you think it’s a little strange that these two guys - whom have the same last name that no one has even heard of anyone having in years, just..come out of nowhere?” i question her.

i watch her shrug, a strand of her black hair falling off of her shoulder as she does so. “not really. probably just moved away forever ago and just decided not to tell anyone, then move back.”

i slowly nod my head in agreement. “yeah maybe.” i grab another handful of the cheesy and salty snack, throwing them into my mouth.

“oh my god! look! there he is!” she shouts as she points to the entrance of the building.

i watch as a guy who looks eerily similar to matthew walking out. but instead of wearing blue jeans with a leather jacket - he’s wearing a plain white shirt with grey sweatpants and a beanie on.

i squint my eyes trying to get a better look at him, same facial features and all. minuscule differences here and there but overall, they look exactly alike.

i continue my staring at the strange man until i see the big blue doors open again behind him, this time, 2 more boys joining him on the sidewalk right outside the building.

matthew.

and another guy who looks like them?

“y/n! what the fuck? there’s three of them!” jayde’s voice screaming happily as she watches the same scene in front of us.

three?

a/n : sorry this is kind of short! i wanted to hurry and write the second part for funsies and cause im bored. hope this is okay😭 lmk if you like it !!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 3: Link

[redrose10]

I’m going to be working on chapter 3 of Cold Brewed Love. I was really sick last week and then my toddler got really sick and we’ve just been a mess. But hopefully that should be out sometime soon.

…Last night I had a horrible panic attack. It came out of nowhere and was one of the worst ones I’ve had in a long time. I thought I was getting passed this but I guess not. So to get my mind off of it I wrote this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but just never wrote out. It’s just fluffy and funny and cute. I hope everyone likes it and maybe it’ll help someone else feel better.

I don’t have a title so if anyone has any good ideas let me know!!

*******************************************************

Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, kind of suggestive, anxiety, depression, jealous Yoongi, little angst, maybe bad judgements against foreigners but not in a hateful way (when writing this I did it from the view of an American who speaks English because that’s me so I apologize to others who read that may not fit that role), also fluffy dorky Yoongi

Word count: 3,702

(I included one of my all time favorite Yoongi photos because why not)

When Yoongi first got his military assignment he was less than thrilled about it to say the least. How do you go from writing hit songs while traveling the world performing for thousands of people and collecting records and awards like no one else to sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a computer for eight hours a day? But he understands the why behind the reasons he has to do this, along with knowing that it is his duty so he is committed to completing his service to the best of his ability. He gets up early in the morning pouring himself a cup of coffee before he puts on his uniform and makes the short drive to the office location.

Whether it was pure luck or a carefully calculated choice by someone in charge he was thankful to be working in a quiet building just outside of Seoul. His department was on the top floor. His desk in a back corner, by himself, somewhat hidden away from view. He could show up, do his job, and leave like nothing happened. He was content with keeping to himself, minding his own business, and not going out of his way to make friends. Of course he was polite and friendly if approached, but he was never the approacher.

And then he met you…

When his senior manager told him that he would be getting a desk partner he nodded and politely accepted the change but internally he was irritated. That irritation only grew when he found out that his new partner was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean. His mind immediately conjured up this idea that you were probably some kpop obsessed fan who moved here on a whim. The only saving grace he thought would be that due to the lack of mutual language you both would probably not be speaking much.

He got to work a few minutes earlier than usual on the day you were arriving to work with him. For some reason he wanted to beat you there feeling like he had to lay claim to his portion of the rather large desk. Your computer was already set up next to him. He sighed as he unpacked his bag and began logging in for the day.

Then you arrived. Your work uniform similar to his. You smiled and introduced yourself and then sat down and got right to work. You didn’t freak out and tell him how big of a fan you were. You didn’t even make small talk. You put in your ear buds and turned on some music and got right to work. You brought in a heavenly smell with you of vanilla and sugar. He’s sure it would be called something like Fluffy Cloud Sweet Sugar Oasis and Grandma’s Cookies or something like that if they sold it at Bath & Body works. And he was ready to buy every bottle.

When work was over for the day you told him to have a good night and packed your stuff and left. Yoongi realized this new seating arrangement wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

The days went by much similar to that first day. You introduced him to your best friend Joon-Sung who worked in a different department on the second floor. The first time he met him Yoongi felt what he told himself was just some indigestion from his lunch because there was no way he was jealous of the handsome man that you so freely talked to and joked with until he heard you mention something about Joon-Sung and his new boyfriend and the indigestion somehow magically went away.

Then Yoongi noticed that he found himself feeling a little more excited each day for you to walk through that door. He also started changing his routine bit by bit. He styled his hair a little more, at least the little bit of hair that was slowly growing back after having to get it shaved. He started wearing cologne again, even buying the one he heard you mention you liked after someone walked by wearing it. His nights were spent brushing up on his English so he could better converse with you and in the mornings he started bringing you cups of hot chocolate or herbal tea after he heard you tell Joon-Sung that you were trying to lower your caffeine intake because your anxiety was getting worse.

Then his world came spiraling out of control at the realization that he might like you…like a lot. The last thing he needs right now is any kind of relationship especially with a foreigner. Like sure you were really pretty and very nice and you both communicated well even with the language barrier and you were taking Korean lessons so you were getting better. You had acclimated to living in Korea just fine. Joon-Sung often joked that you acted more Korean than most Koreans and that you were a Korean Ajumma in a young woman’s body.

Your best friend other than Joon-Sung was your 80 year old neighbor Mr.Park and his cat Mittens which lead Yoongi into remembering a story about how you and Mr. Park spent all day hand making cat toys to take to the animal shelter which made Yoongi’s heart swell with affection before he quickly shook that feeling away.

The more he thought about it the more Yoongi realized how much of your life he had grown to know and how much he looked forward to seeing you and talking to you.

And how much he talked about you outside of work.

“I don’t know man, sounds like you like her.”, Hoseok said while having a couple drinks at Yoongi’s on his day off from the military.

“I do not. She’s just nice. We have to work together. That’s all.”

“Mmmhmm sure, that’s why you haven’t stopped talking about her all night. Jimin mentioned that you even told him about her over the phone. And your ears are doing that thing.”

“What thing?,” Yoongi questioned already knowing the answer.

“You know…that thing where you ears get all red when you’re lying or embarrassed. And by how red they are I’m thinking it’s a little of both.”, Hoseok chuckled before taking a sip of beer.

Yoongi couldn’t like you. He’s only known you for a few months. He doesn’t fall that easily for anyone. He knew his last partner for three years before asking them out. He hasn’t even hung out with you outside of work yet. He had your number, but that was because you asked him for it to send over a work file you were going to complete at home. He’s never texted you outside of a thanks once he’s received it. Sure he’s opened up a blank message and attempted to text you something almost every night. That’s normal though. Right? He’s just awkward and you’re just a friend.

Then he saw you walk in for the day. You were carrying two bags of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. One bag had Joon-Sungs name on it and the other had Yoongi’s. You made him cookies. He thought his heart was going to explode.

When Joon-Sung walked in to collect his package from you he started complaining about how he was going on a date with some guy who loved basketball so now he was trying to cram full of info to try and impress him. He showed you his phone,

“Who is this?”

“That’s Lebron James.”

“Is he any good?”

“Well he’s the highest scoring player in NBA history, he’s top 10 in steals and assists, and has four championships so yeah you could say he’s pretty good.”

“Okay and what team does he play for?”

You sighed, “He was drafted by the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2003 then he went to the Miami Heat for a while and then back to Cleveland and now he’s with the Lakers.”

Yoongi listened as you rattled off basketball facts like nothing with his eyes wide.

Fuck I think I love her, he thought to himself.

Yoongi tried his best to push any thoughts he was having about you far out of his mind. But you were all he thought about. How good you smelled next to him. How sweet your voice sounded saying his name. How you would feel underneath him with his body pressed against yours…

Realizing he was about to really embarrass himself at work he quickly started thinking about that time he accidentally saw his mom in her underwear instead hoping to change the direction of his thoughts but because his brain seemed to hate him his thoughts wandered back to what you would look like in this black lace number he saw was being released by some high end lingerie brand. Maybe he could buy it for you as a gift. Or would that be weird? Quickly he excused himself needing to get up and get a distraction.

When he returned to his desk Joon-Sung was gone and you were typing away at your computer.

“Hey can I ask you a question?”, you said, “I hope I’m not going to make things weird between us.”

Yoongi froze. Did you notice? Could you read minds? Oh my God Yoongi that’s so stupid, people can’t read minds. He was so in his thoughts he forgot that you had asked him a question until he saw you staring back at him.

“Of course, go ahead.”, he managed to squeak out.

“So Joon—Sung is having a party this weekend. He wanted me to ask you to come. It’s nothing big. He does them every few weeks. He’s just social like that.”

Yoongi’s not sure if he’s relieved that you’re not some mind reader or if he’s hurt that you’re only asking him to come because someone else told you to and not that you actually want him there.

But he agrees to go regardless because he wants to spend time with you.

Yoongi doesn’t like to judge people but he’s a little shocked to find out that Joon-Sung lives in one of the fanciest most elite apartment complexes in Seoul. Something about having family money so he works mostly to give himself something to do. Yoongi admits he’s a little impressed and also a little jealous.

He came prepared with topics to talk about. He researched the bands he always sees you listening to even though most really weren’t his style. He looked into your home city so he could ask you questions. And if all else fails he can rely on basketball as a speaking point. He can’t remember the last time he put this much effort into getting to know someone.

He takes off his shoes and walks into the main living area and immediately starts scanning the room for you. He spots you right away.

He takes a moment to look you over. The dress you’re wearing is much shorter and tighter than your normal work outfit. It accentuates every one of your curves perfectly. He sees what he thinks is a thigh tattoo poking out the bottom. He wants to see more of it. You look so good and he can feel his temperature rising. Fuck Yoongi get it together. You’ve been acting like some deprived horny teenager he thinks while making a mental note to call his doctor. Maybe his hormones are out of whack or something. This isn’t normal for him to feel like this around someone.

He watches as you’re happily talking to some guy. Some guy who’s like ten feet tall and made of pure muscle and looks like he was ripped out of beauty magazine. Maybe that is your type. Maybe he should introduce you to Jungkook. At least then he’d still get to see you after his service is up because you’d clearly not be interested in someone like him.

You’re laughing at something the guy said while placing your hand on his bicep.

Well this is something Yoongi never thought about. He was so consumed in his feelings for you that he never stopped to think about whether or not you liked him too or if you were even available. What if you’re already seeing someone? What if you’re happily married with two kids? He never asked you about your relationships since it felt too personal at the time. He feels like the room is spinning as he is trying to find another route when he hears you calling his name.

You walk over and wrap your arms around him in a hug, “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

He smiles feeling some relief as you lead him to the kitchen to get a drink and something to eat.

You’re both eating a piece of pizza when you ask him a question.

“This is random but do you have a nickname? I mean besides Suga or Agust D of course.”

He shakes his head.

“You look like a Yoongles. Has anyone ever called you that?”

“A few fans have online but that’s it.”, he chuckles.

“Well I think it suits you. Or maybe Yoongily Boongily Bear.”

“Okay” he snorts trying to fake indifference but in that moment he realized that he’d let you call him Captain Dumbass if you wanted to just so he could see your smile and hear your giggle again.

Yoongi had gone to talk to one of your other co workers for a while to give you a break from him since you’d been attached at the hip. He was coming back from the bathroom when he noticed you were nowhere to be found.

Did you leave already? And without even saying goodbye. That hurt a little more than he wanted it to. He didn’t get the chance to ask you about your hometown. Now he’s stuck with all these useless facts about some city he’s never even been to.

Just as he was about to give up and head home someone moved the large curtain hanging against the window and he recognized your figure leaning against the balcony outside. Slowly he made his way there.

“I thought you left.”, he said when you turned to look at him after hearing the door open.

“No it was just getting to people-ish in there, I needed a break.”

Yoongi felt bad for intruding on your space.

“Oh I’m sorry. I’ll go back inside.”

He felt electricity shoot through his body after you grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the railing, “No stay. I like spending time with you.”

He felt his heart skip.

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments while staring down at the vast city below.

“I like to look out at the city when I’m overwhelmed or when my anxiety gets too much.”, you suddenly spoke, “I like watching the lights, seeing all the people move around. Some going to work, some coming home. Couples going on dates. Some people are down there having the best day of their life while others are having the worst. It’s comforting in a weird way.”, you chuckled, “To know you’re not alone out here in the world.”

Yoongi looked you over quietly. He didn’t know you struggled so much with anxiety and feelings like that. He knew you had anxiety which is why he never got you anything with a lot of caffeine, but he thought it would just make your heart race or something. He didn’t know you suffered so harshly from it. You always seemed to calm and put together. He felt a strong urge to just wrap you in a big fluffy blanket and give you a kitten to hold as he cuddled you close while telling you it’ll all be okay.

“It’s funny actually. I never really listened to your music before I met you.”

Yoongi gasped dramatically acting extremely hurt.

You giggled, “I know. I mean I knew of you guys and such but it wasn’t really my thing. But when I found out I was going to be working with you I wanted to know about your music and having something to talk about with you. Honestly I went into it not having high expectations.”

Now Yoongi was genuinely a little hurt but he knew everyone was entitled to their own opinions and feelings and that’s why music was so great.

You continued, “I was taken back by how real your music was. How full of emotion and the raw feelings you conveyed. Your song The Last, man I cried after hearing that. To see someone struggle as much as you did with mental health issues and still come out on top even though you had to fight for it. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I’ll be okay too.”

Yoongi thought about every funny scenario he could. That time Jin shoved an entire donut in his mouth and then accidentally coughed it all over Namjoon’s face or that time his brother slipped on some ice and conveniently landed right in a giant puddle of dirty water like he was in a cartoon. Anything to stop himself from crying in front of you.

“Then I listened to Snooze. And that song has become like my anthem. Any time I feel the walls closing in on me or I think I can’t do it any more I play that one and I can feel the gray clouds being pulled away and the sun shining down.”, you chuckled, “You have got to introduce me to WooSung by the way.”

Yoongi laughed with you but deep down he knew he was NEVER introducing you to WooSung unless it was at your wedding after you’d already exchanged vows and kissed and you were officially Mrs. Min Yoongi. Then MAYBE he might let you meet him…from across the room…over video chat.

“I’m glad my music could help you so much. Any time I hear something like that it gives me the motivation to keep going too.”, he said not really sure how to comfort you in that moment.

“How did you do it?”

He look at you confused.

“How did you heal yourself?”

Yoongi found himself chuckling. Not because he thought it was a funny question or anything but he never thought he’d be answering questions like that.

“I mean I don’t know if I’ll every be fully healed. At first I used alcohol. I’d drink until I wasn’t coherent enough to feel. Then I switched to working myself until I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to worry. But now I go to therapy and take medicine when it gets really bad. I use music as an escape without overworking myself. I also surround myself with people who I know are good for me. I think that’s really important.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Thank you Yoongi. For helping not only myself but also yourself and the millions of fans around the world.”

Fuck he wanted to kiss you so bad and and hold you and make sure you never felt another ounce of sadness ever again.

This conversation kind of killed the mood admittedly though. You just opened up to him about something that must’ve been difficult and he can’t just be like oh hey by the way I want to date you and hopefully do unspeakable things to you one day so do you want to go out with me? That would be really insensitive.

Instead he was going to simply invite you to hang out as friends, offer to be your support and see where it goes from there.

“Hey Y/N…”

Just then the door swung open and a very drunk Joon-Sung came stumbling out.

“There you are. I looked everywhere for you guys. I figured you were blowing him in the bathroom already.”

Yoongi choked on his spit and felt his entire body heat up at that statement.

“Did you tell him how you love him and you think he has the prettiest eyes and the nicest smile and the cutest little butt?”

“Go.to.bed.Joon-Sung.”, you hissed.

“Alright alright, but if you two are gonna fuck use the spare bedroom. I paid too much for my couch for there to be naked ass cheeks on it.”, he slurred before stumbling back inside.

You turned back around and continued to stare out at the city below. Yoongi thought you were handling this well. If it was him he would’ve already jumped over the railing from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.”, you whispered when he came up next to you, “I didn’t want you to find out like that. It’s gonna be weird between us now. Monday morning I’ll ask for them to reassign me to a new department.”

“Y/N”

“Hell I’ll even move out of the city.”

“Y/N”

“I’ve heard Busan is nice.”

“Y/N”

“Just please don’t write a song about me. I don’t think I can recover knowing my most embarrassing moment is being retold on stage as seven guys do some extreme choreography while wearing coordinating outfits.”

Y/N!”

Finally he got your attention. He couldn’t help but smile at how flushed you were.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

He used the new boost in confidence from knowing that you liked him too to take a step closer to you. So close he could feel the warmth of his breath bouncing back off of your skin.

“Y/N…Can…I…Kiss…You?”

You didn’t say anything but nodded which was all he needed to lean in placing his lips on yours. It’s cheesy but he felt like fireworks were going off. His senses were overloaded with you. That familiar sweet vanilla perfume you always wear. The softness of your lips. The taste of the pizza and hard cider you had earlier. It made him feel like he could fly.

“So you think I have a cute butt huh?”, he smirked against your lips.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to remember?”

He stepped back putting his hands up in defense, “Hey listen, you don’t even want to know the things I’ve thought about your butt over the last couple months.”

“Yeah well maybe you can show me instead then huh.”, you smiled pulling him in for another kiss.

“I would be happy to”

[555aturn]

Whispers of Zaun⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

chapter two

chapter one if you haven’t read it

summary- Sevika leaves before dawn, offering no explanation, leaving the shopkeeper to puzzle over her own expectations before seeking distraction in the rhythms of her daily work. But when Silco appears with unexpected gratitude and Sevika later returns under his orders, an unspoken tension begins to form—one that lingers even as a late-night tarot reading hints at a future bound by choices she may not be ready to make.

warnings-talks of death (again nothing graphic) mentions illness and grief and I think that's it!

words- 2.14k

a/n- yay! I committed and wrote another one. jk I love writing this lol. HELLA SEVIKA in this chapter annnnnd smut in the next one (unfortunately not sevika x reader...yet this is gonna be a slow burn y'all) but I'm thinking witchy!reader brothel scene for chapter 3 anyone?? okay enjoy pls comment if u like it or dislike.

minors don’t enter!!!

I wanted to wake up extra early so I could assist Sevika this morning, but when I walked through the beaded curtain…She was gone. I scoffed to myself. Of course she left. I don't know why I thought she would stay. Or accept my help. I know people have mixed feelings on my beliefs and what I do here in my shop, but she came to me. 

So naturally I am confused. But nonetheless, it’s less stuff on my hands, so I put some food and water into Hex’s bowls and go back to my room to get dressed.

I decided on a black corset top—very Zaun chic and one of my flowy skirts. Of course, all of my rings and at least two necklaces. I throw salt over my shoulder and walk out of my shop to get some breakfast. Since I’m up.

I make the short walk to Jericho’s. “Hey big man, how are you this fine morning?” I asked Jericho. He grumbled, “Good.” I nodded. “That’s wonderful. Are you serving breakfast?” He nodded with a smile. “Awesome, may I have your breakfast burrito bowl, please? Thank you!” I handed him the change and sat on one of his stools.

After a marvelous breakfast, I walked back to the shop and started lighting my candles. 

An hour has gone by since opening. I resorted to reading one of my novels on my sofa. Until the bell rang, I got up and dusted myself off and froze. It was Silco himself. He never came to the shop. Only that very first day he took charge and marked me down as one of his allies—not by choice.

“Silco, what can I do for you this morning?”

I say obviously on edge as I lace my fingers behind my back. 

“Dear, is it true Sevika came by last night?” He said in his usual smooth tone.

“Yes, she did, and she was bleeding pretty badly. I patched her up and let her sleep on my sofa, but she got up and left before I woke up.” I said quickly. He nodded. 

“I deeply appreciate you taking her in; she’s recovering well because of you. Thank you.” It felt odd hearing Silco, one of the most feared men of Zaun, thanking me for something. “Well, it is what you signed me up for.” I said, and he chuckled.

“Would you like some tea?” I asked. He nodded no. “Sorry dear, I have something to take care of… I just wanted to thank you for your services because they did not go unnoticed. Have a good one.” And with that, he left.

By midday, the shop is alive with visitors. A factory worker limps in, knuckles split. "Damn pipes snapped again." I tut at him, already reaching for a salve. "You should quit." He snorts. "You paying my bills, then?" I chuckled. 

A few coins clatter on the counter. I shook my head but handed him the remedy anyway.

Later, an old woman stops by, speaking in hushed tones about how her grandson has been coughing since the last factory fire. I listen closely. Zaun breathes poison, and its people have learned to live with it—but that doesn't mean I will let it go unanswered.

I prepared a mixture, pressing the bottle into the woman's hands. "One drop in his tea."

The old woman nods, tucking it away. “Thank you, dear.” And with that, she left.

By the afternoon, the shop had seen its usual mix of visitors. I sell a few poisons, read two tarot spreads, and get the full rundown from Seraphine about her date.

Apparently, it went perfectly, which means I'll be hearing about this man every time she visits—until he inevitably disappoints her. 

As the shop quiets down, I take a moment to tidy the shelves, rearranging bottles and bundles of dried herbs. The scent of lavender and citrus lingers in the air, a fleeting comfort against the ever-present weight of Zaun.

Hex watches from her perch, tail flicking lazily, as if amused by the steady rhythm of my work. The quiet never lasts long, though.

The bell above the door jingles, and I expect another regular—or maybe Seraphine again, already overanalyzing her date. But when I step out from behind the counter, I find myself face-to-face with Sevika.

She stands in the doorway, towering over me, with the same guarded expression I’ve come to expect from her. Her usual confidence is slightly muted, as if something about this visit makes her uncomfortable.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” I remark, raising an eyebrow as I wipe my hands on my skirt.

Sevika grunts, shifting on her feet. “Silco sent me. He thinks I should thank you properly for patching me up last night.” She crosses her arms, clearly not thrilled by the idea.

I nod, stepping forward and giving her a once-over. “You don’t look like you need another round of bandages, so what does ‘thank you’ look like in your world?”

She looks at me, unamused. “I don’t know, lady, but I’m here. What else do you want me to do?”

I chuckle under my breath. “Sit down. Tea, maybe? Or would you rather just stand here in silence and watch me acknowledge your shitty ‘thank you’?" I said with a light, bitter tone. But to my surprise, Sevika sat down on my sofa and just mumbled something. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that. What is it?” I said, leaning over her, my necklaces dangling slightly. “I said you better not poison me, and I ain’t stayin long.” Sevika said with an equally bitter attitude. Except I think she really means hers. 

“What would you like? I have many herbs and flowers I can brew into tea for you.” I said, stepping back now and looking at her, waiting for an answer. 

“I don’t want any flowery shit; get me something normal… please.” Sevika grumbled. It took all of my being not to let out a quiet gasp; I can’t believe Sevika of all people had any manners. I thought it was just Ran. 

“I got just the thing.” And with that I went behind my counter to rummage through my bags of herbs. I had the perfect combination of herbs. It’s a lemon balm and ginger pack. The vibes just give Sevika to me. 

I go behind my beaded curtain to boil the kettle of water. I decided to go back out there with her while I waited. 

To my complete utter surprise, Hex was purring at Sevika’s boots, some very dirty boots at that. “Wow, Hex seems to like you; she usually hisses at every customer that walks in here. I am shocked.”

Sevika just scoffs. “Am I supposed to care?” She rolled her gray eyes at me. “No, but you can pretend since this is you coming here to ‘properly thank me.” I bit back. Before Sevika could respond, the kettle started to whistle, and I rushed back behind the curtain. 

I came back out with two steaming mugs and hesitantly sat on the sofa next to her, at a distance, of course. But it isn’t the biggest piece of furniture considering I got it from a small business in Zaun, and now that I look at her, Sevika is a whole fucking unit; she took up almost half the whole couch.

“Here you go, careful it’s hot.” I handed her the mug. Sevika just sat there holding the mug while manspreading an insane amount. How can one person spread their legs so wide? Not that it matters…Of course.

I brought my own mug up to my lips and blew into it, hoping to cool off the liquid so I could drink it. The silence was so thick and awkward it started to make my mind race. Seeing Sevika here is so odd for a number of reasons. First off, she never comes here. I think the other night when she was bleeding might have been her third time altogether. And she is a complete traitor to Vander, and she knew I was one of his good friends, and she just shows up here in the middle of the damn night expecting me to patch her up. Well, that is the end of the deal I have with Silco, but still. 

A small slurp from beside me takes me out of my thoughts. Sevika was drinking the tea. 

“Do you like it?” I ask as I take a sip from my own mug. Sevika nodded. “I actually do.” Pride swells in my tummy, dancing with the flavors of the herbs from my tea. “Good.” I said simply. After another minute or two, Sevika chugs the remaining liquid, sets the mug on my side table, and stands up. 

“Thank you.” She said, dusting her flesh hand and mechanic hand on her leather pants, and left, walking out the door, bell jingling as she did so. 

I just sat there and stared at the mug she left on the table, stained with the black lipstick that adorned her lips. I stare at the mug for a moment longer, tracing the shape of the smudged lipstick with my eyes. Strange, how something as simple as a stain could make Sevika feel more... real. Less like Silco's enforcer, more like someone who sat in my shop, drank my tea, and however begrudgingly thanked me for it.

Hex leaps onto the table, sniffing at the mug before promptly knocking it over with a flick of her paw. I sigh, shaking my head as I stand to clean up the mess.

The shop is quiet again, but the air feels different, like something has shifted.

Whether that's a good thing or a dangerous one, I haven't decided yet.

Before I can dwell on it, the bell jingles again—another customer, another distraction.

Business never stops in Zaun, and neither do I.

The day went by slowly after that. But it has finally come to its end. After I close up the shop and clean, I decide to do a tarot reading on myself.

The shop is quiet again. Just me, Hex curled up on the counter, and the weight of lingering thoughts pressing against my chest. I exhale and shuffle my tarot deck. It's been a while since I pulled for myself. Maybe it's the quiet, but something makes me feel like I need clarity.

I drew three cards. Past. Present. Future.

The Past: The Five of Pentacles

A card of loss. Of struggle. I swallow hard.

I know what this is about before I even let my eyes fully rest on it. Zaun is a city of ghosts, and I’ve lost my fair share to it. Vander, Powder, Vi. Pieces of my life were taken by fire and smoke, leaving me with nothing but empty space. Even now, I feel the cold weight of it—absence, grief, the quiet echo of what used to be.

I move on.

The Present: Strength (Reversed)

Not a bad card. Not exactly a good one, either. Strength reversed speaks of inner battles, of restraint turned to self-doubt. It whispers that I’ve been holding something back—whether it's my emotions, my instincts, or something deeper, I don’t know.

I think of Sevika, of the way she grumbled through her tea and left without much fuss. A simple ‘thank you,’ nothing more. But the way she lingered, the way her hands rested on her thighs before she stood—it wasn’t hesitation, not exactly. But it wasn’t nothing either.

I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and flip the last card.

The Future: The Lovers (Reversed)

I pause.

The Lovers is a card of connection, choices, and bonds that tangle together whether you want them to or not. But reversed, it carries a different weight—uncertainty, imbalance, something forming that neither side is ready for. It isn’t doom, but it isn’t simple either.

I frown, running my thumb over the edge of the card.

A forced connection, a choice that wasn’t truly mine to make—Silco’s influence looms over me more than I like to admit. Could this be about him? Or is it about something else? Something… someone.

I push the thought aside.

Hex stretches, tail flicking lazily as she watches me with her sharp yellow eyes. “What do you think, little terror?” I ask her, holding up the reversed Lovers card. She meows, unimpressed, and promptly knocks it off the table.

I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

Still, as I gather the cards and shuffle them back into the deck, the image lingers in my mind.

A bond that shouldn’t make sense. A choice I might not be ready for.

And the feeling that, somehow, it’s already been set in motion.

[judesmoonbeauty]

IkeVil Act 2 Prologue Thoughts & Theories

This will contain spoilers, and some 18+ remarks at the end, so MDNI. Please see under the cut. As usual, these are just my thoughts and feelings.This is a word salad. And not that this is important or anything, but I was totally listening to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake while writing this.

My first thought is: That's it?! With the Act 1 prologue being as long as it is, and even with other IkeSeries games like Pri, I felt it was too short. I was expecting and wanting more. Perhaps, Cybird will release more later, but I doubt it. Seems that they are keeping Vogel underwraps as much as they can. Less is more, maybe that's what they were thinking?

Next: The spotlight is on Vogel (as it should be), since they're apparently debuting with Roger's route. We're excited to meet them, still I didn't like that other than Victor and Harry (with his two lines of actual dialogue), no other Crown members had any lines. Their sprites just pop up (sans William because he's away per Victor), to show that they were present. Where is that amazing stare-off that went down in Roger's PV?

Tell me this wasn't it! Hopefully, we get more of their first meeting within the first chapter of each of their main stories. Which leads me to......

When Act 2 Takes Place: It takes place a week after Kate's tenure of being the Fairytale Keeper begins, and honestly, I LOVE that. We need a change of pace. Now, don’t get me twisted, there's nothing wrong with seeing her start her journey from the very beginning, but consider:

Act 2 is supposed to delve deeper into the topic of the Curse itself from what I understand. If that's the case, we need to move things along. It would make storytelling easier (I feel), if Kate has already spent a week with the villains and isn't completely ignorant about curses.

Also, we're moving further along in the routes, which tend to become progressively darker with each route passing (my opinion), not starting from the day after she arrives at the Castle will allow the writers to delve deeper into things, and give us more chapters for - hopefully - more lore.

I mean when Roger's route finally releases, I'd expect maybe some flashbacks in chapter one of the night after Kate bumps into them on their mission, and then she agrees to be his assistant. I don't personally want an entire chapter or three of that, and I would love to see Kate already with a week's worth of experience of working with Jude & Ellis (when Jude's route releases). I want her to be someone who is already capable, not stumbling around with (How do I prove myself?), we already know how she needs to do this, as she's demonstrated in their events. Let's skip that and get to the good stuff. Now about the new meat on the market.....

Darius: Well, we all know that we can't trust him, and he's super interested in William for some reason. I'd love to see that meeting happen. His disappointed face made me chuckle when he was told that William was away, and you can clearly tell that he isn't a fan of Victor. WHY?? Is it the scones? Is it because Victor keeps his precious Cursed babies safe from those who may try to destroy his family? Can't wait for the explanation, because as Victor has said in the past, he doesn't want his time with Crown to end, and Darius seems like the one who is going to end it. I know Darius hasn't done anything yet, but I feel like I need to say this: Don't be mean to Vivi!

He seems to be focused on recruiting other cursed members into his "family", and his vision of the cursed and non-cursed joing hands together and work alongside each other (so he says).

He seems to be the big-bad (Gilbert tragic backstory vibes from this one?), I could be wrong, but that's what my gut tells me. I mean they all have one, but I feel like his is going to be twisted. A type that I am weak for.....so I am trying not to look at him at all.

Anyways....He's certainly angelic looking, and because he's wearing such an obviously painted smile, I would like to see him irked (not that I hate his character or anything), I just think it'd be funny as hell to see a blood vessel pop up on his forehead.

Nica: Right, Nica is gorgeous and he is the one I look forward to the most out of the three. His sprite has teeth when it's a full smile (congrats, my man), and a part from him making a comment that he's happy that Kate is present because he doesn't want to be stuck with a bunch of guys, he's very sharp.

He discerned by himself the real reason why she was at the castle. Also, he seems to love money and power....my other weaknesses are men who enjoy those things (stares at Jude & Silvio).....he doesn't seem to have a tyrant attitude, but I look forward to learning more about him.

Also, I have a theory I believe he may be involved with Roger's betrayal of Ellis' cursed predecessor. In Roger's main route preview:

Roger: Oh, me and…..this person……We aren’t friends. This person and I are strangers.

Mysterious Youth: ….Thank you. - “That’s enough”. (screen shakes)

Now, this could be Ring, but I think it's Nica also because of the relationship chart. I re-read the relationship chart. .

So, it'll be interesting to see how this plays out and how off I am. On to our darling......

Ring: Beloved, sweet, cold, blunt and Disney Princess Ring. He is the next villain I look forward to the most. I mean, a shared cursed ability with your twin? Moody emo vibes? Adorably quiet and strong? Please, I love him and want to cuddle him. Not to mention that skin-tight, black turtle neck....yummy. A part from this, Ring doesn't seem to like making speculations based on limited information, and I appreciate that about him. I think it's also notable that is very upfront with everyone at Crown, that if they try to harm Vogel, he won't sit quietly. Love a man of action. My question is: Why is he Darius' puppet, but not Nica? Ok, last but not least......

Sprite Designs: As usual, Nana-sensei has incorporated symbolism of their fairytale group into their clothing with lots of sharp edges. Personally, I love her art style over all, I think it's beautiful. Of note, Darius has a feather as his belt buckle and I quite like that. His brooch on his neck is the recognizable symbol of Vogel (seems like a swan's head with feathers to me), and the brooch on his floofy coat looks like the face of a swan staring at me. *Ahem* And I think his little neck window could be bigger....just saying.

Nica & Ring both have identical tassels, although they are different colors. One of their tassels likewise feature the symbol of Vogel, but the other looks like cross-hatch marks(?) Feathers(?). They apparently share the same curse, perhaps it represents their shared cursed since they are connected as twins??

They also share swan-faced holster clasps. The one on Nica holds his gun holster, and Ring's holds a book holster (?).....it looks like a book holster. Is it a book about flowers? I mean, it could be a snack pouch, but really it looks like a book holster to me. Just saying.....

Last, but not least, Nica's rings. My first thought: That's hot as hell. Next thought: Shit it's going to hurt like hell when he fingers Kate. This entire time I've been worried over William's and Jude's long ass fingernails cutting Kate up when they enter her, but this this amount of rings (assuming he doesn't remove them), that's going to scrape her so much inside. They're like a toture device.....wait.....maybe he's a sadist too? Oohh, yay if he is! Either way, he is a fan a jewelry.

Well, that's it. There's a ton more that I could write about, but I'm sleepy and I'm rambling.

[Master Lists]

[nyxyxx]

Godly Desires - Part 5

Disappeared for a while for holidays and stuff. Happy New Year folks. This chapter is quite short but the good parts come next so that's exciting. (Also with a little bit of lore hehe). I. II. III. IV. V. Warning: This series will contain yandere content and religious themes.

"The City of Wind"

-

In the woods, stirring from its ancient slumber was a darkness so wicked and vicious, the very life that surrounded it began to wither and decay, rotting away from its presence alone. This darkness, it had a mind of its own, yet had no name to accompany it. Perhaps it once had a name, but said name has been long lost in the archaic oceans of time. Sunk deep within the waters of the world, lived a name so egregious, that uttering it would only bring about misfortune.

There was a prophecy to be told about this darkness. An ancient prophecy, one that was older than the gods themself. A legend told from within the land, an old story that was soon to be unearthed. Though this story would very soon present itself, discovered in the depths of the sea, now is not the time.

"It is the calm before the storm, my love."

-

"Stop right there!" A young girl emerged from the trees and promptly ran towards you. Dressed in red, white and brown, alongside the pyro vision at her hip, it was the ever-so recognizable Outrider Amber. She stood in front of you, with an air of justice and gentleness. "May the anemo God protect you, stranger!" She announced, suspiciously gazing over your strangely dressed self. "I am Outrider Amber, of the knights of favonius, and who are you?"

"Oh uh...I'm [___]"

Amber simply stared at you in silence, looking a lot different than her typical self. Almost like she was thinking really hard about something, but also staring at you. Noticing how weird she was being, she kinda just turned away from you, her ears tinted a little pinkish.

...

There was somewhat of an awkward silence following. You gave her a fake name, as Diluc had mentioned it may be a good idea to do so, though you found it to be quite strange. Still, this was just way too awkward. Why wasn't she responding? Did you already do something wrong?

"Oh um...right. Where was I..." Amber snapped back into her usual persona, and thus you carefully explained your situation to her, keeping a few things hidden, but otherwise being truthful. She seemed to relax after a while of talking to her, even opening up a little bit.

"If you'd like, I can take you to the city, there have been lots of monsters in the area recently." She said, a little bit shy. It was uncalled for, but since she was offering you her company, you accepted happily.

Reaching the gates of the city, you glanced up at the sky. Though you had seen Mondstadt many times it looked so much more beautiful in person. Maybe your dream just had such great detail to it. Amber hastily showed you around, though it was mostly unneeded, as the entire city felt so familiar, to you. She quickly mentioned that she had to get back to work, and hoped that you had a good time while you remained in Mondstadt.

You couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was something that you were missing. Some important reason that you had to come here. Like you had been sent here for some purpose that you can't quite remember. You tried really hard to think of what that could've been, but attempting to do only led to your head hurting.

Well, you were here anyways. You might as well try and find something fun to do. So, swallowing those strange feelings, you decided to try someplace that might be interesting. The local tavern, perhaps.

-

Taglist: @justyoureader; @mmeatt; @iamapotatoe; @clavichordcleffa; @yu-ulda; @c3rtifiedsimp; @eravariety; @vianitry; @dulcedelechenginamo; @reveihehe; @liansh3ng; @angelofdarkness2; @yarabutterfly;

[fumifooms]

Did you notice that in the anime chilchuck blushes when he sees marcille in the red dress? I skimmed through the marchil crumbs master post and from what I saw you didn't mention it

Also its not from the ale since he wasn't blushing right before that

Ah yeah, don’t worry it’s because part 8 of the crumbs masterpost isn’t out yet, I’ve been lazy with it but it’s been overdue ever since the second half of season 2 started, and it does have a buncha stuff don’t you even worry lol my god… I just need to get out some stuff for it first. Ahh good times

On this though: I personally don’t give it much weight but it’s valid to read into it.

What we know:

Against: - Kui does make characters blush both when they’re drunk AND when they laugh. - Chil is confirmed drunk/tipsy in that scene because in the picture above his little mood chibi is drunk lol. - The point of the scene is that he laughs at her, the joke is that he laughs at her. If there’s subtext it’s still very much secondary and easy to miss and ‘besides the point’ anyways, buut does this subtext exist? Well…

For: - In the dating sim cover, the other option was "tell her she looks pretty". None of the choices seem outrageous for his character so it’s not random throwaway lines, though of course the reasoning behind it may be as simple as ‘it’s formality’. In the chapter cover, Marcille’s section is the one on top of every other one at center stage, which makes sense since it’s for bicorn chapter and bicorn chapter is THE Marcille & Chil chapter. In all of the choice dialogue bubbles on the cover, out of the 7 ones the hand is always over the choice he picks except for Marcille’s and Falin’s, indicating he might have hesitated. - Short of being a half-foot with a sultry face, Marcille is Chilchuck’s type. - The face he’s making in his little mood emoji in the dating sim picture lol? You may be drunk but pull yourself together omg - Chilchuck does deflect his more compromising feelings so this would be in character. Marcille is the only character he teases so much so often and it’s implied to be because he finds her reaction fun, full with shojo filter and sparkles all around her with his mind. Do with this what you will… Schoolboy pulling on the pigtails of the girl he like’s pigtails.

Neutral: - we don’t see the milisecond of realization on Chil’s face in the manga. - we don’t see his face after spitting out all his ale in the anime lol. - what could be "canon" in the manga may not be in the anime and vice versa.

Also whatever the hell this is. We all know not to give too much weight to VA’s takes but also what!! I always thought in the manga that Chilchuck wasn’t the one calling frogsuit Marcille cute so that was already a steel chair to me but lol the point of him saying that in the scene was still very much to follow through on the bait she took lmaoo. I don’t thiiink Chilchuck would think the frog suit genuinely makes Marcille look cute idk. Kigurumi enjoyer Chilchuck confirmed… And I feel like if this is true then Chilchuck wouldn’t have much problem giving her a casual compliment over her looks in the golden kingdom scene either. But also?!! 👁👁

Chil’s jp VA has also said that Marcille is cute (Marcille’s jp va said Chilchuck is cute too but that’s besides the point. 16:05 here). And got into some trouble for acting overly familiar with Marcille’s VA, somewhere in this haven’t looked myself yet. So there might be a whole unrelated thing there?? I’ll cover it more fully in the crumbs masterpost hopefully, after some more investigation. Gdbdg so yeah several layers of putting crumbs under magnifiers like they could be fake gemstones to appraise their authenticity and thus value

Stare. Play it cool.

I love it when he does this it’s so cute. Cheers, raising my cup to you

[gordonradiotv]

A (Long Overdue) Celebration

Ah, hello, Readers!

It's Jox again! Some of you probably knew me as "Toony" back in the day, but it's been a looong while since I used that name. And it's been a long while since this blog ended!

On May 23rd, 2020 I started this little ask blog not expecting it to become much. But because of all of you, it blew up into something absolutely incredible! I wish I had the words to describe how this blog changed my life. I met my fiance because of this blog. I met lifelong friends. I gained the confidence to pursue independent passion projects like my webcomic Tip The Ferrymen and others. It's kinda insane to think a tumblr ask blog based on the haha funny HL youtube series would've had such an impact on my life.

So, I wanted to do something to celebrate the blogs 4 anniversary! Unfortunately we are a bit late to the mark due to some wild stuff that happened earlier this year, but better late than never! But finally it is done and finally Tumblr let me actually upload these lmfao. Without further ado, I want to announce:

GordonRadioTV's Soundtrack has been FULLY remastered!

With help from my lovely creative partner and fiance @stygiuscantus , the soundtrack for this blog has been fully remastered! Now, you can experience the whole story again with a fresh coat of paint. The tracks are also available on Selene's bandcamp, they're "pay what you want" as well! If you want to support Selene's work, here's a good place to do it!

I am also aware that some of you may be disappointed that the old tracks are gone, but for extremely private reasons that I will not be disclosing I no longer feel comfortable having those tracks up on this blog. To me, this is a fresh start to a project I hold dear to my heart and allows me to experience it all over again. I have loved every moment of working with Selene and she has put so much heart and effort into this, so cheers to new beginnings!

Selene herself also wanted to say a few words, which are included here:

"Four years ago, a friend of mine linked a little blog called GordonRadioTV in one of our Discord servers. Being fixated on HLVRAI at the time, I quickly checked it out, only for it to genuinely, actually make me laugh. I think I read all of the chapters up to that point (up to 3, I think?) in one go, because it was such a novel storytelling medium to me, and I was immediately enraptured. Little did I know that this little funny Half-Life blog would quite literally change my life, introducing me to new friends, inspiring me to experiment with my own art forms, and helped me find the love of my life, to whom I now life with together and am engaged to. Whenever Jox needed a new composer, I jumped in to help on short-notice, giving myself a brief crash-course on music theory to do so. I started this project months ago in the hopes that I would get it done in time for the anniversary, but, well, making 20 tracks takes a long time. I tried to put a lot of thought and love into each track, with each character having their own instrumental motif, and even some melodic motifs (namely for Gordon and Benrey). I truly hope that all of you like it; I am honored to be a part of the legacy of something that's so important to me."

-Selene Highchurch

Thank you all for everything. I have said it a million times, and I wish I had a new way to phrase it, but this blog means so much to me. This project means so much. Your support means so much to me. These stories are mine as much as they are yours, so much of this story wouldn't have existed without your participation. Thank you for being here. Thank you for playing.

And to alter the words of a certain scientist...

You've changed my life, everyone. I'd like to think it was for the better.

I don't know whats going to happen to us once this blog is done for good, but I know I'll never forget you. I hope you won't forget me.

Well...This is where I get off.

Goodbye, Readers!

[rando-d]

Ultrakill Review: Turn Back Now

"Better late than never ammiright chat"

Ultrakill is one of the best shooter games I've ever played. I'm am no expert on shooters, I've played a good amount. I hate "tatical" shooters, which is why shooters like Valorant have repulsed me, whereas games like Fortnite and Team Fortress 2 have been my addiction. Heck, even in 2016, I liked Overwatch (obviously not anymore), but there was a time. Because "tactical" shooters just equate to camping around in one place waiting for someone to fight you, and doing anything energetic or running around the place is severely discouraged and games like those actively avoid rewarding players for risky play.

Tactical Shooters Suck, Ultrakill isn't one

Games like Team Fortress 2 and Fortnite are so insanely fun to me because those are shooters that ENCOURAGE you to fight people and have a risky playstyle, while giving players the option to camp, it moreso discourages it and grinding through entire lobbies feels just so satisfying. That being said, you can probably guess that Ultrakill would easily be something I would fall in love with, and you'd be perfectly correct on that. Ultrakill is everything I love about shooters, with 0 of the problems. Heck, this may be even my favorite shooter. While I'm not particularly good at the game, it is so insanely fun, and dying in the game always feels like my fun and not some sort of unbalanced enemy or really weird game design choice.

Combat

Of course, the game isn't finished and has 2 more chapters out of its 9 chapters, but those last 2 chapters could be awful, and I still would love the game. I have most of the game here. I could just ignore those last 2 chapters (again, assuming it's bad, which is highly unlikely). One of the reasons that it's unlikely is due to the games great combat system, I criticize games for cheap combat a lot, if you're making an action game, you need some good combat, and it takes a lot to impress me on that department. Ultrakill did just that. Impress me. It has a wide variety of weapons to choose from, and every level of the game's somehow feels designed around those weapons. There are so many different enemies, each with their own unique weaknesses, good play and risky movement where you utilize all the tools at your desposal is rewarded with style points, just seeing that "ULTRAKILL" combo sign hits different.

Movement

Ultrakill, while simple in terms of how you can move around the map, is really fun and gets the job well. In the beauty of its simplicity, you can perform lots of cool tricks that made me feel like an edgy teen all over again. Again, the style point system works well and constantly dashing to the goal in a short period of time while making sure to kill all the enemies and doing it all in a style is a pretty daunting and time consuming yet fun goal to achieve for all levels. Not a single level in Ultrakill kept me bored aside from the secret missions. And yes, the movement is somewhat simple in Ultrakill, and while I have seen that there is cool stuff you can do, I can't help but feel that I wish there's a bit more that could be done to improve the game's movement and add more to it while not taking away from its simplicity.

Presentation

We're in an era where people yield nostolgia to things like the N64, and PS1, but honestly, I'd compare this games graphics to Doom, that's despite the fact that the game goes out of its way to tell you that it's inspired by PS1 graphics. The game also goes out of its way to make its creatures disgusting and egregious to look it, really conveying hell's warfare to you well. The game does a great job at conveying some of the story through its environment. enviormental storytelling is always a great way of helping to tell a game story. The music is also great, the chaotic nature of the game just blended perfectly with the music style of Breakcore, I would not pick any other genre of music for a game of the kind, especially the boss themes, that's when the game really locks in. But, I will say, while all the enviorments do a great job of distinguishing each other while keeping the games disturbing feel, that can't be said for gluttony. It honestly was a bit too gross to look at, but apparently, the games developer stated that won't be of concern since he's planning on redesigning it, which I'm looking forward to.

Verdict

Ultrakill is one of, if not the best, shooter video games that I have ever played and pushes the genre of indie shooters to major new heights. I'm excited to see the game's story end, and I'll continue to replay the hell out of it for the future, it's one of the most addicting experiences I've ever had the pleasure of, you should turn back now because this game will throw you into a loop which you won't be able to escape, trying to break through that mess is crazy.

[detectivestucks2]

Escape with the Cursed King IV

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Sukuna x F!Reader

Summary: Your arrival in the veil of Sukuna's home has him excited to finally have you to himself but it leaves your mind spiraling with questions. You make a new friend who puts your mind at ease before you join Sukuna for bed.

Warnings: NSFW, Rough Penetration, Creampie

Word Count: 3.3k

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14

Several minutes into the blissful moment with your King you hear quiet footsteps approach. Both of you raise your heads in simultaneously to look at who they belonged to. It was none other than Uraume.

“Good Evening Master.” They say with a bow, “May I interrupt?”

Sukuna gives you a look to which you nod. He perches your chin on his pointer and thumb before kissing your forehead. “Tonight. My chambers.”

You feel bashful and look down before mustering the strength to look him in the eye, “Yes, my King.”

You dismiss yourself to continue your exploration of the grounds but your mind, once calm and still by Sukuna’s presence, is now reeling. 

Could tonight be the night that…you know…it happens? 

He has been gentle and loving so far, keeping things slow but Yuji did say that he thinks ‘messed up’ things about you. Plus if what just happened in the hall is any indication, he’s definitely wanting to take the next step.

Are you ready though? It’s not like you’re a virgin or anything but this is a curse you’re talking about. A powerful curse at that. Would intimacy hurt you? Like how eating Sukuna’s finger would kill most, would allowing him inside of you do something similar? What if you fell pregnant? What would a half curse-half human baby be like? Furthermore, what about Yuji? It’s his body afterall. You can’t just do something like this without his permission. Thoughts swirl through your mind and the dizziness from it all causes you to stagger in the garden, almost falling into the Koi pond. 

“M’lady!”

You hear the voice from behind you as a strong pair of arms grab a hold of your waist.

“Kazuo?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I umm-I got a little overwhelmed is all”

He guides you over to a bench and has you sit down. “Overwhelmed?”

“It’s uh, it’s personal.” You say, feeling embarrassed and looking to the ground.

“Ah.” He says realizing this might be a conversation for a female counterpart.

“Girl stuff?”

“Yeah”

“I, I can go get my wife if you need someone to talk to.”

You look up from your feet, “Would it be too much trouble?”

“Not at all.”

Kazuo gets up and walks off into the house. You’re left on the bench staring at the door through which he entered. A short while later he reemerges with a petite woman by his side. She has extremely long black hair all the way down to her behind and stood at just one and a half meters. 

Kazuo gives you a small wave as his wife glides forward, giving you a small bow before sitting down next to you.

“Nice to meet you m’lady”

You bow your head, “Nice to meet you.” You give her your name and ask for her’s.

“My name is Ainu”

“Hi Ainu. How long have you served here?”

“Since I was a child m’lady.”

“Since you were a child?”

“Yes, most of us grew up within the veil. Only some of us have come from the nearby town.”

“So you’ve known Kazuo your whole life?”

“That I have. We played together as kids”

“I can only imagine. Did you like growing up here?”

“I did. It’s peaceful here though I imagine things will be more lively now that our master is back. Neither of us ever thought we’d see him in the flesh.”

“Well, I guess he’s not completely in the flesh. He is inside his vessel, not his body.”

“True, but still.”

A comfortable silence exists between you two for a minute before she speaks again.

“So my husband says you are feeling overwhelmed.”

“I am. It’s just…this is a lot.”

“Hm?”

“The whole, leaving my life behind and running away with a cursed spirit. A highly hunted and wanted cursed spirit.”

“I can only imagine what that must be like.”

“I’ve heard so much about Sukuna but I’ve never seen him be the man they’ve described him to be. Even his vessel is weary of him but I can’t imagine it.”

“Men, in my experience, can change when they find someone worth changing for.”

“Do you think he is as bad as they say?”

“Maybe he once was. When he was lost and drunk on power. But he has had a millenia to grow and mature.”

“What if I grow attached to him and he changes back?”

“Then you wouldn’t be doing your job as his partner.”

“What if he doesn’t want a partner.”

“I’ve never heard of a story where Sukuna has saved a life. I believe you to be an exception.”

You fall once more into silence before you push through your embarrassment. “I believe tonight he wants to…” you squeeze your eyes shut before opening one of them to look at her. “Be intimate?”

“Do you want to?”

“I do… but I feel conflicted.”

“How so?”

You explain to her your questions and she reminds you that Sukuna was once a man. You already knew this but it reassured you that a potential child would likely be viable. And him being in a vessel most likely meant your bodies would be compatible. You felt a lot better about the situation but you still didn’t like the idea of just ignoring Yuji.

“Maybe you could ask to speak with him.”

“I don’t know if he’d go for that.”

“But at least Yuji will know that you care for him and want to respect him.”

“True…I’ll try. I just hope Sukuna doesn’t get mad.”

She smiles at you and lightly places her hand on your knee. “Something tells me that if he does, he won’t be mad for long.”

You take a deep breath and look off into the bushes of the garden. “Okay. I feel ready. Would you mind staying with me till it’s time?”

“Of course. My cousin can take over my responsibilities.”

“Will she be mad?” You scrunch your face up in guilt realizing how selfish your request was.

“Not at all. Things are more lively than before but I do not do much in the evenings anyways.”

The two of you stand up and head inside with her to your right. You begin to chatter about childhood stories and young love, giggling about embarrassing memories and suddenly you felt at home.

Inside your room she helped you do your hair and you did your bedtime routine before standing up to go to Sukuna’s room. 

“Enjoy yourself tonight m’lady.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“Cause this time it’s meaningful.”

“True. and it’s not like we’re talking about some ordinary guy.”

“No we are not.” She giggles, “I’ll stop by tomorrow before noon to see how it went.” she says with a wink.

You smile and push open the door. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

Ainu departs and heads towards the other end of the house while you gingerly knock on Sukuna’s door before opening it.

“My King?”

You look around the gigantic room before you spot his pink hair and tattooed body striding over to you. He grabs both of your hands to pull you close.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, my King”

He kisses your forehead before steering you towards the bed.

“Sukuna?”

He stops in his tracks. “Yes?”

You bite your lip and stare at the ground. “Before we move forward, could I talk to Yuji?”

“What did you just say?” his voice became raspy and deep as he spoke the question.

You feel fear flood your veins and your body treacherously trembles as you explain yourself. 

“It’s just that this isn’t your body and it doesn’t feel right to do this without his consent.”

“That’s funny cause I don’t recall him asking for my consent when he ate my finger. I didn’t ask to be trapped in this body or be locked away inside a vessel.”

Your jitters increase but you stand your ground.

“Please? I can’t ignore the fact that he’s in there.”

You see the frustration build on his face as he barks at you.“Stop shaking.”

You try to get your nerves under control but you know you’ve ruined the mood and disappointed him. Your eyes begin to mist. 

“Look at me.” he says with a short temper.

Your eyes snap up to meet his and you mutter an apology. “I’m sorry.” 

Sukuna doesn’t understand your distress as you shrink before him and it frustrates him further. 

“I don’t mean to disappoint you but we’ve never gone this far and…”

“Fine, talk to the brat.” He doesn’t understand it but he hates to see you look at him with so much fear. 

Tears leak out of your eyes and your rapid breathing begins to turn to normal. “You mean it?”

“Make it quick.”

You swing your arms around him and squeeze before you notice a shift in his stance.

“Yuji?”

“Hey professor.”

You release your arms and step back. “Hey”

“So…you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, I uh, Sukuna, well we, tonight, we want to be intima-”

“-have sex. Yes, I know. He’s been thinking about it all day.”

Your face turns bright red. “Well, how do you feel about it?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks over at a phantom speck of dust on the floor as he responds, “does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.”

“Look professor, I don’t mind. He cares for you and those feelings keep him under control. If it means he’s not gonna murder people, I’m not gonna stand in your way.”

“You sure?”

He blushes and you start to realize that maybe Yuji is starting to share Sukuna’s sentiments for you. “If that’s what you both want, then yes.”

“Yuji, thank you.” you smile ear to ear and feel relief wash over you.

“Talk to you later Professor.”

“Talk to you later Yuji”

As Yuji retreats and Sukuna reemerges, you notice how his features age slightly and his muscles expand all at the same time the ink bleeds onto his skin. Unlike Yuji, Sukuna stands taller and is more bulky. You take note of these slight differences while he strides closer.

“Happy?”

You melt into his arms and fully relax, “Much better.”

“Do you always think about other men right before fucking?”

You snort. “No, only when they’re possessed by a curse.”

He scoffs as he tosses you onto the bed. “You’re lucky this is our first time cause later you will pay for your insolence.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and rub your foot along the back of your shin. A playful smile graces your face, your gaze lifting up to look at him. “Oh? You’re going to make me pay?”

“Later, yes.” he says as he drops to his hands leaning over you and moving his face close to yours. “For now, I need my princess to take care of something.”

“You do, do you?”

“Yes” he breathes into the shell of your ear, making you hot all over. “And she better not keep me waiting.”

You place your slender fingers on his collarbone and gently push to signal for him to roll onto his back. As he settles his head against the silk covered pillow you crawl over him and remove your top. Bending forward, you place a gentle kiss to his lips before pressing harder. 

Strong hands run up your spine as your delicate digits cradle his face. He snaps his fingers against your bra clasp and you feel the band release. Slippng your arms out of the loops and tossing the item aside, you allow it to be forgotten in some unknown corner of the room. 

Bare chest against bare chest, you press against him feeling happiness wrap around you like a thick blanket. 

Your fingers slide from his face to the back of his neck, digging into his skin slightly as your greed for him grew. Your lids lower and your eyes drop to Sukuna’s lips. A  glance back up to his eyes, they’re already focused on your pillowy soft smile. You blink and give in, falling against him and inhaling as you move your lips with his. You can’t help the way your hands run down his arms and wander to his back where you feel his muscles tense as he begins pushing his pelvis up into you where you straddle him.

You feel him hardening between your legs and you can’t accept the amount of clothing between you and him. You break apart the kiss to rip off your pajama bottoms. However, as you bend over to pull your foot out of the hole, you feel pressure around your hips and hear the sound of stitches ripping.

“Sukuna!”

“You can get new ones.” he says under his breath as he tosses the tattered fabric to the side and pulls you back on top of him.

Though you were slightly annoyed about him quite literally ripping off your underwear, you climb back over him and feel the satisfying friction of his manhood rubbing between your folds while his black robe falls open. 

You lay on top of him, grinding your hips against his as you litter his neck in kisses. It takes every ounce of restraint for Sukuna to not take you the way he wanted to. He needs to be kind to you tonight. He needs to be patient but patience is not what he is known for. It isn’t exactly his strongest quality. But for you he’ll try. 

Your lips find every crevice of his jaw and neck. You reach just behind his ear before you hear a change in his breathing. Knowing you found a sensitive patch, you focus your efforts on it. 

“Woman, you're asking for trouble.”

“Sorry, did I find a weak spot?” you taunt. 

“Ah, so you really are asking for trouble then.” he says as his hands harshly grip around your thighs and he pushes up into your center with his hips.

You exhale into his neck and he knows he’s driving you just as wild as you are him.

“Maybe” you whisper before returning to sucking on his neck. 

The man groans and tilts his hips in such a way that your sopping wet core is able to slide over his length and bury it deep within your walls. You gasp as you feel him enter you and Sukuna nearly loses his composure.

His hands run up your thighs to your hips and he pins you down as he grinds up into you. A high pitched gasp and a small moan slip out. “Ah, she likes that, huh.”

You refuse to answer and continue to work your mouth over the expanse of his chest to which he grabs a firm fistful of your fleshy hips and begins to guide you up and down along his length. 

You fall into him face first, feeling the pleasure steal away your power. You lift your hips in time with his hands and his pelvis matches the pace. But soon you are unable to keep up with him as he increases the rate at which he’s pumping up into you. 

You yield to his tempo and he flips you onto your back, driving into you relentlessly. He had waited for this moment since the day he saw you. To bring you here, to his bed, and have you under him moaning like one of his whores from a thousand years ago. 

“Su-sukuna, feels s’good” your eyes shoot open as he hits a squishy spot deep in your walls, causing your heels to dig into the mattress. A loud moan makes him pull his head away from your soft neck and stare at your cross eyed face. He smirks so handsomely and continues his blissful pounding with you screaming away under him. 

“K-kuna! Oh my gods!” a slurry of curse words fill the air as he snaps at an unrelenting pace. 

“Kuna?” he questions

“S-or-ry, my Ki-ing-g” you gasp between strokes. 

Your pathetic little noises humor him as he watches you unravel from beneath. If this is what he can do to you now, just what will you be like when he does what he really wants with you? His thoughts grew wild with lust and he drove you right up against the head of the bed, your body folding in half from his force. 

“Normally I don’t allow my toys to address me so informally. Lucky for you, I happen to think it’s cute.”

He punctuates the last word with a harsh thrust that makes you yelp, followed by a roll of your eyes. “You think you’re something special, don’t you. Tell me how much you love your king.”

“I lovem’ myking.” You slur, feeling the blood to your brain draining to between your legs.

“And how much do you love servicing your king?”

“S’much” you gasp, feeling your body crumple into a ball against the headboard. 

“Ah, my pretty girl having trouble speaking?”

You pathetically nod at him, eyes starting to close. 

“No need to talk, Love, just let me make you feel good.”

His hips continue to push you up into the headboard until he can no longer see your face. Upon seeing you disappear, he grabs your hair and pulls you up just to throw you back down on the mattress, facing away from the headboard. You try to catch your fall with your hands but you fail and land with your cheek and nose crashing into the covers. 

Sukuna props up your hips and kneels behind you, easily slipping in and grinding in. Drool is pooling on the sheets below your mouth which saturate further with each forceful stroke. 

At first it’s your face fucked into the mattress but slowly your entire body begins to be pushed down. Your knees slide out and give way to his enthusiasm and soon you’re suffocating on silk. 

“Kuna…k-kuna…” you find the strength to waive your hand behind you. 

“Not now Princess, I’m almost there.”

“I can’t…can’t…breathe.”

“Sorry baby.”

Sukuna lifts you up by a fistful of hair, yet again, and brings you to standing on your knees. He lets go and supports your upper body by cradling your chest as he leans you forward to keep ramming himself inside of you. 

You’re left speechless as he knocks the wind out of you with each thrust. Nothing but the sounds of impact filling the room. Sukuna grunts and changes his grip, threading his arms under your armpits and grabbing you by the tops of your shoulders, pulling you back into him with each stroke and watching you bounce off his cock upon every impact. 

“Fuckin’ perfect.” He moans, watching how the fat of your ass jiggles for him. 

His speed increases and you know he’s about to blow, you feel it too. You are already completely undone by what feels like a thirty minute long constant orgasm. You have no energy left to spend. As the hot ropes shoot into your hole you can barely make a sound. Your eyes simply cross before you pass out. 

Sukuna lets out a loud groan before he collapses on top of you, rolling onto his side and laughing at your lifeless body. 

“Can’t handle me, can she.”

Though this wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked a girl lifeless. Some of his favorite concubines centuries ago were the same. 

Unlike back then though, he wiped the fluid between your legs and dressed you in your pajamas. He laid you down next to him and held you in his arms as he fell asleep. You are perfect to him. Everything he didn’t know he wanted. Staring at your soft and peaceful features, he stroked your cheek with the back of his finger before resting his head behind your own and drifting off to sleep, joining you in the land of dreams.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14

Masterlist

[helle-bored]

A non-exhaustive list of weilan fics I’ve loved, for a truly diverse variety of reasons, in no particular order!

State of Matter by naye (~13k, T)

I am a simple soul who loves a) Shen Wei whump and b) hurt/comfort and c) hypothermia/huddling for warmth tropes and d) survival stories where characters get out of pants-shittingly bad situations via putting one foot in front of the other for way longer than they want to be doing that. This is a great fic for all of those things.

–

All-Consuming by ratbones (~119k, E)

Zombie AU! Everything about this fic is exquisite – the pacing, dialogue, descriptions, characterization – everything. Having already loved both the novel and drama versions of Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei before reading this, I think this fic is my favorite version of them. Also, I know a bunch of us like to good-naturedly poke fun at how baby!Shen Wei’s crush plays out in the drama, but this is a fic that absolutely sells the idea that Shen Wei would fall in love with Zhao Yunlan in basically one night. Fuck, I’d love him too! I kind of do! Feels like watching a very good zombie movie. Has A+ humor, interesting science, a wrenching penultimate chapter. Please read this and come yell at me about it! You can read it fandom-blind. 

–

The Unexpected Legacy by FayJay (~84k, E)

Regency AU! Gorgeously written. One of the most scorching, horniest weilan fics I’ve read in terms of pent-up yearning, and that is a full compliment. I’m also a big fan of the climactic confrontation, which shows how much Zhao Yunlan cares about Shen Wei in a pretty visceral and unpleasant, typical fairytale way, something I enjoy because I am a sadist for that kind of horrifying devotion. One of my favorite Ye Zuns – he’s such a fantastic, complex, loveable brat. No twincest in the main fic, but if that’s your flavor you can also check out the sequels.

–

Not All Those Who Wander by Xparrot (~23k, T) 

This one is a bit hard to describe. It’s like a… post-apocalyptic fairytale AU fix-it?, and the writing is beautiful. I love how it plays with the novel versions of Kunlun and a young Shen Wei. Kind of desolate and bittersweet, but hopeful too. 

–

Day After Day | 日复一日 by hideyseek (~24k, T)

What do you say about a fic where the middle-aged original characters are still in your mind months later? Great timeloop casefic with a slowly unwinding mystery.

– 

Ghost Story by clevermanka (~90k, E)

Haunted house AU! I’m kind of a baby about haunted house stuff, and some parts of it toe the line of being too creepy for me – the slowly building malevolence has great atmosphere and is genuinely unpleasant in parts. Also really enjoyed the bizarre, earnest, kinky ghost sex, which by all accounts really shouldn’t work as well as it does. (Enthusiasm goes a long way when one of you is a ghost.) Has a proper gothic story arc that’s fitting for the fic as a whole. Also features a fantastic Zhu Hong who is saddled with way more bullshit than she deserves. I think about this fic a lot; it has a really strong sense of presence.

–

Rapture by ratbones (~104k, M)

Cyberpunk AU! ratbones does it AGAIN with this fic. damn. This one feels a little less serious than All-Consuming and moves along at a faster pace that suits the glittering cyberpunk theme, but it still manages to cram in body horror and existential angst and just a lot of really lovely ways of looking at what it means to be human, without any of it ever dragging down the plot. I read it all on a 6-hour flight and may or may not have teared up over a robot – not that anything’s new about me crying about robots, but all the robots I’ve ever cried over have also been people, and so is Kunlun. Anyway. This is a fun romp that will probably NOT make anyone cry except for me, and it is another fic with an excellent Ye Zun. 

–

Better, Safe (~5k, E) and Whipped (~3k, E) by clevermanka

I’m listing these together because they go together in my head – clevermanka has a handful of lovely short fics that are either outright kink or kink-leaning, and these two are my faves. I love reading stuff that digs into the easy give and take between the boys as they’re passing the baton of who’s in control back and forth, and what control looks like for both of them, and what ceding it looks like, and how they enjoy each other’s differences, and how courteous and careful they are with each other without it being awkward, like it’s just a built-in part of sex for them. Joyful and hot.

–

Spiders Crawling by tinypinkmouse (~38k, E)

…Spider… AU... Look. Shen Wei is spiders. I have to include this because I have never ever in my life read anything else where the main love interest is spiders, and the mental image of Shen Wei getting so flustered about questions he doesn’t want to answer that he just spontaneously bursts into spiders feels perfectly in-character (and also weirdly adorable). I would not be able to stand this in real life, but Zhao Yunlan has a remarkable ability (canonical) to be cheerfully into some weird shit. Worth clicking on for the what-the-fuck factor, and then reading because you get unironically sucked into the concept of Shen Wei being spiders.

–

The Coherence of Light by Xparrot (~3k, E)

Sometimes (all the time) I just want to read porn that's hot and funny and in-character. I could happily read a hundred fics just like this.

–

Scorched Earth, Deep Ocean by margrave (~35k, E)

Omegaverse palace drama AU! Emperor Kunlun, secretly an omega, performs a series of political maneuvers to cement his position as an omega Emperor – as well as to recognize his new concubine Shen Wei, former general of the enemy kingdom of Dixing and war prize given away by the Dixing Emperor during peace negotiations, as a consort accepted by the court and father of any future legitimate heirs to the throne. I was pleasantly surprised at how much fun I had reading this one, considering the action primarily focuses around court politics. Bonus: Zhu Hong is GREAT. Absolutely love her. 

–

unmoored by nanimono_da (~43k, M)

Post-canon fix-it! If you want something that dives really really deeply into the bodily experience of living through heavy grief, I actually think this does an uncomfortably good job of showing what than can be like. Reading it feels like treading water in the ocean when it’s raining and you can’t see the shore. Cathartic; draining. HURT/comfort. Has a happy ending. The illustrations are so, so pretty.

–

Echo by Absolutelytrash (~26k, T)

Post-canon AU! Technically unfinished, but it leaves off at a pretty satisfying spot imo. Zhao Yunlan is taken hostage in exchange for the Hallows. I find the psychology around the perpetrator to be absurdly fascinating and very well done. I also enjoyed(?) watching Zhao Yunlan’s disintegration as he’s tortured under circumstances he does not believe he will survive, and the impact that this experience has on him later on.

[vasito-de-leche]

A short (or not) ramble of scenarios and questions for reverse: 1999 self aware. (sorry if this bothers you, I just don’t have enough confidence to post it on my own blog (plus I love your content))

- Okay so first of all, in the main page of the game, when you click on the upper left corner with your level and username, you go to a screen with Vertin looking fly as ever along with some user information.

So if Vertin can see the game’s ui, then she can see the year in which the player has joined the game (2023-2024). I haven’t dived deep into Vertin’s character so I can’t portray her reaction to much, but I feel like she would tell this info to someone close like Sonetto.

Also our motto: I put “When in a rush, say ‘runs in high heels cutely.’”. I’d be so embarrassed if anyone (even fictional sentient characters) saw that. Like im dead.

On that topic, when you mentioned in your Sonetto self aware post that she can sometimes see us, and honestly, I’d be even more embarrassed. Cause like, if any of the characters from games I played, were sentient and could see me, id pray they didn’t see my bad angle. Like imagine looking up to the sky to see, just for a second, the chin of a head as the hands go to scratch their nose. Like the first impressions I would make.

- P2p players. Imagine the player spending money on the game (at the risk of Vertin possibly seeing their credit card number) to help level up or get costumes for their fave characters.

(Some misc. questions)

-what would happen if player didn’t log in the game for a while (a week to a month as best) cause I would ditch some games to spend more time on others

- What does Vertin think of the mail messages that the player gets? Like the latest mail I got was the discord event invitation. Upon closer inspection and critical thinking, it would hint that there would be more players other than us because it says the winners get 60 clear drops (oh and money too)

- If I remember correctly, I think you mentioned about Vertin hearing the player sometimes. So imagine her hearing us trash talk certain character *cough* Constantine *cough*.

(Anyways, I love your content ❤️ especially your fmn headcanons, can’t wait to see more posts!!)

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU (2)

Answering some questions and discussing the Self-Aware AU. A follow up of this post.

not a bother at all, you bring up really good questions and details that are fun to explore! I'm glad you like my stuff, have a nice day o7!

On the subject of Vertin seeing the player's profile.

With the way I intended to portray Vertin within the AU, I don't think she would be affected by the date on the Player's profile!

This is the date you came into contact with her from your perspective, whatever time and space that flows within your world, not hers─the world behind the fourth barrier that she cannot see nor hear nor even fathom, let alone try to make sense of. In a way, it's like expecting ants to care about concepts we made up, such as time. They understand night and day, they do not understand 3PM nor 8AM.

Is it truly proof that time can go beyond 1999, when this is something that only she can see? When it doesn't affect a single thing within her universe by being part of a game menu meant for your eyes only? There's also the fact that she finds out the proper time of the world in the 1.4 update, in Chapter 05.

Her dynamic with the Player is something I like to keep vague, so that everyone can fill in the blanks, but ultimately it is something so complex and private for Vertin─who sees it as a one-sided relationship, since she cannot hear nor see you, unlike other arcanists who may reach the 100% bond─that I don't think she would talk about it with anyone, not even Sonetto! The name on your profile and whatever message you've written there are secrets she will take to her grave. The idea of Vertin being the eyes and hands of the Player, but having no way to truly see or hear them makes for a really fun concept to explore!

And on the subject of messages, let's be honest, if you've written something funny or some modern shitpost, chances are she won't understand it LMFAO so it's okay! I literally just have my socials and "men enjoyer" listed there.

Oh! But since you brought it up, the message section could be a fun, little way to communicate with Vertin, since she can read what's on there!

As for P2P players, Vertin wouldn't see any information from the Player's credit card since that's something that happens outside the app lolol. Like, to me, it directly opens to google play transaction stuff.

On the subject of the player dropping the game for long periods of time.

Hmm, in the first post I said that there might be characters ouside Vertin and her suitcase who may be self-aware, with their own goals and such. But nothing truly "matters" unless the Player is there to witness it. So to keep including these possibilities and details, I feel like there's two options, pick whichever you like the most!

One, time continues as usual within the game─but once it reaches an important date where the plot is meant to kick in with some important event, it simply resets back to where you left it. This is a world that exists outside of your perception, but cannot continue without you.

Two, time freezes entirely within the game─but only for those who are not self-aware. Keep in mind we're talking about long periods of time, this wouldn't happen if you log in every day, or every few days. This is what happens when your phone picks up the fact that Reverse: 1999 is one of the unused apps taking up space in your phone. This is a world that stops existing once you stop looking at it.

In both options, the Wilderness would remain unaffected as it seems to be entirely disconnected from the flow of time and space outside of it.

On the subject of the game's mail.

Since the messages auto-delete and all, I can't check but I'm pretty sure Vertin receives mail too? There were a few ones from a few characters a while back like Druvis III or An-an Lee, and I think the implication is that they were vaguely addressing Vertin?

If someone has screenshots and can confirm this, please let me know!

Either way, the easy answer is that yeah, she knows this is a game, so she could make the assumption that there's more players. She has access to your friend list, after all! And even if you don't have anyone added, the fact that it exists is enough for her to start connecting the dots.

I don't remember saying that Vertin can hear the Player, though! I think I was pretty consistent with her not being able to see nor hear you, to have the Player as some sort of eldritch, unknowable entity. But I also write so much stuff in this blog that it's hard to keep up sometimes lolol, if I've mentioned somewhere that Vertin can hear the player, it was a mistake!

[taradactyls]

Progress Update for Trying to Tread Water

Welp, we all got better, and then sick again within a week. So I didn't write enough to feel ready to post the chapter before illness got me. Pretty mildly, but fatigue is a big factor and when you combine that with caring for two toddlers... yeah.

So, below is a (largely unedited) sneak peak for you, of the chapter which has unintentionally turned into a little bit of a tour guide of the route from London to Derby.

I thought I would do a paragraph or two of the journey, but then I wanted to know a few villages I could name drop (the same way Jane Austen does with Oxford, Warwick, Kenilworth, etc in Pride and Prejudice) but that required research. Which led me into the research black hole. I ended up stitching together my own maps, comparing that to two or three other antique maps which focused on different information, plotting alternate routes, excessive use of the measuring tool in google maps, google street view, Wikipedia searches (why do so many villages list the amount of Indian restaurants they have??), and finally a four page document I made of each village they would pass through, with their distance, special features, etc. Most of it isn't relevant, but I needed to know it to feel that my writing had a solid foundation, and there was too much good stuff and potential scenes for me to be able to resist including some.

Here's the first glimpse of one of those locations I 'found' as I was doing this research. Dunstable Priory (with an image of it at the bottom).

They passed two more villages before the Dunstable Downs came into view, somewhat low as the road was, but Elizabeth did indeed reckon the walk to the top would be worth it. They resolved to undertake the climb, and explore Dunstable, the adjacent market town, for a considerable time. There was unlikely to be anything more enticing awaiting them in their final two stops for the day, so they had plenty of hours to spare.

At the inn where they were changing the horses, Elizabeth asked a maid within what might be seen around the village, and whether the downs were worth the exertion.

“There is the priory, if it please you ma’am. And the view from the hills is very fine. I have heard tell it is the highest point in this part of England, and indeed you can see farther in fine weather than I have ever travelled.”

Elizabeth settled it with Mr Darcy to climb the escarpment after their meal. While that was being prepared, they walked over to explore the church, which was considerably closer by and could be managed in a short time. It was far statelier than Elizabeth expected, with a very ancient façade which only grew more imposing the closer they got. Until, standing on the path sloping down from the doors and feeling entirely dwarfed by the ornate columns and pillars stretching many stories up to crenelations and yet a higher tower, she had to laugh. “I was expecting a country church,” said she. “I feel this place once might once have been of considerable importance.”

His brow furrowed slightly in thought, Mr Darcy mused “Yet there are many grand remnants of abbeys and priories about, after falling into ruin following the dissolution of the monasteries. Perhaps it was common for places of worship to be so impressive, and the only uncommon aspect is that it survived.”

“I will concede perhaps it once had more peers, and many larger, before so many other grand religious houses were lost. But I think it must have always been uncommon in its size and ornamentation. The sheer number of tiny country churches whose simple Norman bell towers cannot rival this surely show that.”

“They show this may never been considered modest, that is true,” Mr Darcy conceded. “But it does not necessarily follow that this particular priory had any great significance. It might have been rather average, or slightly above, for most of its life, until its fellows lost their roofs in the looting following Henry VIII’s decrees and his appropriation of the income which funded such splendour.”

Elizabeth turned to him with a smile. “I suppose I have not the knowledge to counter that fully” said she, “as we would need to compare it to a comprehensive list of everything that existed alongside it. But I cannot imagine something so impressive in appearance and preservation is irrelevant.”

“Luck, and relevance to the local people might be all that was needed to preserve it. Plenty of places of undisputed national importance have been lost,” countered Mr Darcy. “If there is anything significant about this particular priory, we might expect it to be an abbey, or have heard more about it.”

“If whole palaces and abbeys have been lost to ruin, I think it not unusual if we also lost the history of a place. It might still be important despite us knowing very little of it,” said Elizabeth empathically.

“One could claim the same of almost any hill in England – there have been ancient kingdoms and barrows enough to justify it.”

“Perhaps one would be right to do so! Maybe every mundane piece of earth we tread was once unfathomably important in a time immemorable.”

A faint smile came to the gentleman’s face. “You have a romantic’s heart, Mrs Darcy.”

“And just enough a mind for history to feel I can credibly support my claim,” rejoined Elizabeth.

“Not without leaning heavily on presumptions.”

“Do not forget, Mr Darcy,” she replied archly, “I have the liberty of being able to assert that a lack of evidence does not disprove my claim, since it hinges on such knowledge being lost. All the while being safe in the awareness that it is impossible to disapprove that a place has never been sacred in all the long years of the world.”

His smile seemed fonder, as he said “Ah, you are taking an unassailable and yet unprovable position.”

“Which is the cleverest stance to take” said Elizabeth, with sparkling eyes belying her serious tone, “if one never wishes to listen to anyone who disagrees with them.”

“And if they do not particularly care about being academic.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I cannot say being academic does matter to me; but listening to differing opinions and being open to changing my mind does. I should not seriously want to adopt such stances regularly.” Without her earlier jesting, she added “Truly though, there must be many locations forgotten. Between the Normans and the Saxons and Danes and Romans and all the Picts and the like who came before, if we overlaid all of their most important places atop one another I feel the isle would be fairly fully coloured.”

“Perhaps. But I think many of the sites would overlap,” said Mr Darcy thoughtfully. “Certain rivers and hills have attracted people for as long as people have existed to observe them. We cannot say the same for any random patch of dirt.”

“No, there may not be anything special about the dirt which draws people. But it only needs once to have been a hall, or a grave, or have been the location of a sacred tree, and then it has been important. Farmers in unremarkable fields are always finding old coins and shards of mosaic. Who is to say great things did not once happen on any random bit of soil?”

“No one living,” confirmed Mr Darcy. “But we have strayed far from the original premise of our conversation – and regardless of whether the soil its foundations descend into was once significant in ages past, that not does dictate whether this priory itself was ever particularly important beyond the local populace.”

“But we have established that it might have been, even though we have heard nothing of this priory before now,” replied she.

“Yes, which is to say that we established only that we know nothing at all and have no metrics by which to make fair assumptions.”

Apparently quite delighted by this ignorance, Elizabeth smiled, and leant against Mr Darcy. The familiar ground of their back-and-forth had done much for her in dispelling the anxiety treading the unfamiliar grounds a partiality for her husband had created. But before they could settle into their ignorance, one came along with the power to dispel it. The residing clergyman had perceived them from within, and, easily deducing them to be people of some importance on their way through, was eager to make their acquaintance and offer them a view of the interior.

They gratefully accepted, and as they were walking in Elizabeth said “Our first tour of a local church – we are proper travellers now, Mr Darcy.”

The gentleman made a slight noise of agreement. “In a place I have passed through dozens of times yet never truly explored. I have climbed the downs, but never investigated this priory.”

“Well, there you have it – something new for both of us on this journey.”

(To Be Continued in Chapter Forty)

The view Elizabeth and Darcy had of the priory:

A Wikipedia page for it here

[mrdixon]

A Rugged Muse | Chapter 4

pairing: eventual daryl dixon x f!reader

wc: 3.8k

warnings: SMALL TIMESKIP (it’s like a few weeks), reader has feelings, daryls short tempered, i love lori idc, lots of filler plot till we can get to the juicy stuff 😇

summary: going out with daryl.

A/N: sorry this chapter took so long and ended bad. cant even promise a better next chapter. but i at least hope you arent bored :/

a rugged muse masterlist | regular masterlist

The faint sound of crickets filled your ears as you stared out at the dark mass of water in front of you. You had taken solace in the lake behind the camp, finding yourself here late at night when you couldn’t sleep.

Glenn worried about you when you did this. Though there weren’t any walkers in the area he still didn’t trust leaving you alone in the forest at night, then again he didn’t like leaving you alone anywhere. You were so happy to have your older brother back, but not happy that he was nagging you so much. You may be a grown woman but he still saw you as his baby sister.

A rustle from behind you startled you, your body turned quickly and reached for the dagger by your side. You relaxed and turned back to the lake at the sight of Daryl. You heard his soft sigh as he stepped out from behind the bush and moved over to where you sat on a huge rock. His crossbow was placed next to you as a sort of partition while he sat next to you.

You leaned back on your hands, turning your head to look at him again. His eyes were set dead ahead while his arms rested atop his knees. It became a thing where you two would follow each other around but not say anything, just keeping the other company. At least that’s what it felt like.

You liked it to be completely honest, it was nice having someone else who kept you at ease instead of just Glenn. Even though Daryl didn’t say much, he still made an effort… of something.

“Did Glenn send you out to watch out for me?” You snorted, watching his eyes flicker as if coming to. He grunted in response, lifting his thumb to his mouth. You sighed, turning back to the lake. He still wasn’t much of a conversational person. The silence was comforting nevertheless and you couldn’t help but look at him from your peripheral.

You’d been noticing Daryl a lot more recently. You’ve pretty much established the fact that he was attractive to you, even if he didn’t speak much. He seemed to care about you at least a little bit seeing as how he’s been pretty much following you around camp. You at least considered him a friend, and hoped he thought the same of you.

You were starting to get tired so you stood up and stretched, yawning a little. Daryl’s head tilted upwards to look at you and started to get up as well.

“Tired?” He mumbled to which you nodded and grabbed your dagger.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head in. Should get some sleep and make sure Glenn isn’t stressing his ass off.” You chuckled and swore there was a smirk on his face at your comment. He bent down to grab his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder before turning to you.

“I’ll walk ya back, wouldn’ wan’ ya gettin’ bit.” Daryl tapped your shoulder gently before walking ahead and into the forest. You followed quickly after him, watching your step and making sure to be quiet so you didn’t awaken anyone, or anything.

You noticed he huffed a little when he walked and he grabbed the strap of his crossbow to keep it secure. His muscles flexed a little when he did this and the artist in you tried to keep that in your mind to draw later, after all your art block had lifted. As creepy as it sounded, Daryl was one of your most drawn subjects right now. You couldn’t help it, he was just such a fun thing to draw.

Your face hit his back and he looked over his shoulder at you, stifling a snort.

“Ya good? We’re ‘ere,” he stepped out of the way and watched you as you bowed your head in embarrassment. You hoped he didn’t just see you gawking at his arms.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and walked in front of him to get to your tent. You felt a hand touch your elbow and looked back to see him pull away.

“Ya wanna go huntin’ tomorrow? If ya got nothin’ ta do I dun’ mind teachin’ ya.” Daryl shrugged as he fiddled with the strap of his crossbow, his eyes darting around anxiously.

Your heart fluttered a little. You had told him a couple days ago about how much you wanted to go hunting and “do something useful.” He remembered.

“Yeah,” you nodded and smiled softly. He squinted at you and nibbled the inside of his bottom lip, shifting his stance side to side. “Yeah sure, you want me to meet you?”

“Mm,” he shook his head and started to turn away. “I’ll come getcha,” he waved his hand dismissively, not giving you a moment to respond.

The moonlight shone down on him through the trees as he stalked off. Your eyes were drawn to his back, his muscles rippled as he walked. Those broad shoulders always caught your eye. It was admirable how quiet he was, you could barely hear his feet hit the ground when he walked. You caught yourself staring at him again, sighing deeply as the older man disappeared into the night. You placed a hand on your chest in an attempt to slow down your heart rate which was racing for some reason.

You had just known Daryl for just a few weeks yet your heart raced every time you saw him. You didn’t want to think much about it though, at one point you just assumed he didn’t like you. You honestly didn’t care much either way, the friendship was nice… if you could classify what ever your relationship was as a friendship.

Shaking your head, you turned to your shared tent with Glenn, opening the flap as quiet as you could before slipping in. Glenn was laying on his side, curled up in his sleeping bag. You tried not to disturb him as you moved over to your side of the tent and slowly moved into your sleeping bag.

“What’s going on with you and Daryl?” Glenn mumbled sleepily and you jumped a little. You sighed as you lay on your back and stared up at the ceiling.

“Nothing is going on,” you murmured but it kind of sounded like a question. “Really, nothing.”

Glenn shifted in his spot as he let out a huff and faced you, his eyes were closed but you could tell he was awake and wanted to keep the conversation going.

“You two are going out?” The way he worded the question felt like he was asking if you two were going out. That’s what you assumed at least.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you coughed, shaking your head. “What? No… no I barely know him.”

“Not what I meant,” he shook his head, “tomorrow?” You froze as you caught your misinterpretation, biting your lip.

“I…” you mumbled, rolling over to face him. He looked back at you sleepily and tucked an arm under his head, waiting for your response. “Yeah, we’re going hunting.”

Glenn snorted, rubbing his eyes while you glared at him for laughing. “Oh god, you like him.” He tried to hide his grin from you, catching the pillow you threw at him.

“I do not,” you hissed quietly. “I barely know the guy, plus it hasn’t been long since…” You choked on your own words, thinking about your god damn ex again. Sure it’s been seven months, but no matter what, you couldn’t get over him. Glenn noticed and sat up, sighing as he gently threw your pillow back.

“You still hung over that guy?” He flinched a little when your head snapped over to him, your eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Okay, okay… but c’mon (Y/N). He was an asshole, and I’m not saying I fully support this thing going on between you and Daryl but hey, if it seems like something you’re willing to go for then do it.” You closed your eyes at his words, grabbing your blanket and pulling it over your head. Your older brother sighed, rustling around as he got back into his sleeping bag, “just think about it.”

You mentally eye rolled, there was no way. You couldn’t like Daryl, he was older… more brash and a little bit aggressive. It’d be an odd couple the two of you. Still, a part of you yearned. What for? You didn’t know, it wasn’t important. Whether you yearned for the warm feeling of being loved or him. You kicked your feet frustratingly, earning a scold from Glenn. You hated this feeling, you didn’t want to trust it. Not after what happened before, not after that warm feeling was quickly taken away from you. You couldn’t even imagine losing someone you loved now, in the apocalypse. The thought made you shiver.

You don’t think you could ever love again, especially with the current circumstances. It’d be nice… but not now. You shook your head in a lousy attempt to clear your thoughts, turning over to try and get some shut eye. You sort of dreaded tomorrow.

The sound of tarp rustling woke you up, immediately sitting up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Glenn turned to you apologetically, “sorry to wake you. I’m gonna head out soon.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “huh? You're leaving?” Your older brother nodded with a soft sigh, shrugging as he packed his bag.

“We’re running out of things, the others need me. I’m the only one who knows my way around Atlanta,” your eyes widened. Atlanta was completely infested with those walkers, your thoughts from last night rushing back to you. If something happened to him…

“What if you get hurt?” You frowned, tossing your blanket off to the side as you crawled over to him. He sighed deeply as you continued, “can't you just draw them a map?”

“No,” he shook his head, continuing to pack the things he needed. “It’s best if I go out there with them, safer for them. Safer for me, for us.” He looked at you and frowned at your expression of concern.

“If you die I’ll kill you,” you muttered unpleasantly. Glenn cracked a smile, nudging your shoulder as he shook with silent laughter.

“Sure thing, you have fun on your little date.” You groaned, pushing his head. Glenn toppled over, his body shaking with laughter as he quickly recovered from the fall. “I’ll be back soon, don’t have too much fun.”

Glenn quickly gave you a pat on the head and dashed out of the tent before you even had the chance to push him again. You let out a soft sigh, reaching up to ruffle your hair before crawling around the tent to grab your things and be ready by the time Daryl got there.

You felt a little excited for your little outing with the older man, unsure if it was for the hunting or the man himself, nevertheless you quickly got ready. Putting on some comfortable clothes, you grabbed your daggers and attached them at your thigh, you doubted you would be using them for hunting but you wanted to bring them anyway. A low grunt from outside signaled that Daryl had arrived, his voice confirming your suspicions.

“(Y/N)?” His voice was soft in contrary to his usual tone. You slung your bag over your shoulder and stuck your head out of the tent, seeing the archer standing by a tree. You shot him a small smile before getting out and walking over to him. He eyed you up and down innocently, shrugging before leading the way. “Saw a few rabbits down ‘ere.”

You followed after him like a lost puppy, trying to mimic his skillful step through the forest. He looked over his shoulder at you and scoffed a little, shaking his head. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a half-smushed pack of cigarettes, grabbing one before offering one to you.

“No thanks,” you shook your head, “I quit.” Daryl nodded respectively and shoved the pack back into his pocket before grabbing a lighter and lighting his.

His lips wrapped around the end, taking a deep drag before blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth. The smell of tobacco occupied the area around you two. He glanced at you from his peripheral, taking another drag before asking,

“Any reason ya quit?” He coughed, “if ya wanna share… ‘m jus’ wonderin’.” You chuckled softly at his flustered tone of voice, you wondered if he was always this nervous.

“Ah just…” you shook your head as you looked up at him. The truth was, you used to smoke a lot with your ex, even more so after the breakup. You would've taken Daryl’s offer but decided against it. “…wanted to break habits,” you shrugged and looked ahead again.

Daryl nodded and continued to walk in silence, not wanting to push the matter further. Seeing the forest so clear was odd, before you wouldn’t have questioned it but it felt so weird to not hear or see a walker every five minutes. The two of you continued to walk in peaceful silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the tranquil forest. Your companion soon pointed to what you assumed was tracks, though they looked like a rock fell very strategically… Daryl let out a soft grunt as he dropped the butt of his cigarette onto the ground, stuffing it out with his heel.

Daryl’s crossbow slid off his shoulder and into his hands, beckoning you closer. You moved next to him, brushing your shoulder against his. He glanced down at you, gently maneuvering the crossbow into your hands. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him in confusion, his rough hands brushing against your skin as he guided your hands onto the crossbow.

“You ever use one of these?” He grunted, a hint of amusement dwelling in his tone. His eyes flashed with hilarity when you shook your head frantically. He gave you a light pat on the back and walked ahead, assuming you’d follow. “You’ll be fine, I’ll help ya out.”

You helplessly followed after him, the weight of the crossbow already straining your arms. No wonder Daryl’s arms were so nice, he had to carry this hunk of material every day. You stopped in your tracks as soon as his palm was held up towards you, his fingers curling up to hold one finger up, signaling you to be quiet. He swiftly moved behind a bush and you quickly followed, crouching down next to him.

Daryl pointed outwards to a small clearing where a rabbit was nibbling on some grass, you nodded and lifted to crossbow to aim towards the rabbit. You heard a snort from him, feeling a hand tap your own to lower it. You turned to him and furrowed your brows, he shook his head before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and placing both his hands over yours. You swallowed nervously as he guided you to properly aim at the rabbit.

“Now press the trigger,” his breath was warm against your neck, making you flinch slightly and pull the trigger. Unfortunately you did not hit the rabbit and ended up scaring it off, Daryl immediately got up and huffed in annoyance. You sighed, feeling your heart beat faster. He was just so close to you, screwing you over in the process. Daryl stood with his hands on his hips, biting the inside of his cheek to not blow up at you. Admittedly, it was your fault you missed the shot.

You stood up cautiously and handed him the crossbow with a guilty expression, “sorry.” Daryl took one look at you and huffed before snatching the crossbow back. He wasn’t about to scream at you, but he didn’t respond anyway. You didn’t say anything else as he started walking, and you followed after quietly.

Daryl held his head up, though his eyes were scanning the ground for the rabbit’s tracks. You just followed him mindlessly through the forest even though you were so sure he’d shoot you dead right here and now. His patience was running thin though, you two had walked towards where the rabbit should be, but didn’t find it. His fingers tapped against the material of his crossbow, clearly trying to keep himself from losing his shit.

Soon you met the end of the rabbits tracks, they simply disappeared. Daryl let out a deep sigh, rubbing his face with one hand as he grumbled something under his breath. A rush of guilt flooded through you, after all it was sort of your fault for missing the shot. Now there was no dinner, but hopefully the supply run group would come back with food…

“I’m really sorry Daryl,” you mumbled timidly. You didn’t want to piss him off but your shyness quite literally did. He hissed under his breath, turning to you.

“If only ya didn’ miss the damn shot, could’ve had food by now.” Your stomach dropped as he walked by you, bumping his shoulder into yours. You felt that was a bit unfair, it’s not like you missed on purpose.

You looked over your shoulder to find Daryl bitterly stomping his way back to camp. He may be attractive but he really did irritate you sometimes. His head turned once he heard you angrily walk over to him, passing him with your own shoulder bump.

“The fuck’s yer problem?” He growled before catching up to you. Your eyes rolled as you avoided his gaze, shaking your head.

“What’s yours? I didn’t even do anything bad,” you grumbled annoyed. “I apologized twice already.”

“Yeah well an apology ain’ gon’ do shit fer us if we don’ even have food ta eat.” You rolled your eyes again, not wanting to deal with his bullshit right now. “Wasn’ even tha’ hard of a shot.” Your blood boiled at his remark. It wasn’t even the difficulty of the shot that made you miss, it was the fact that he was breathing up on you.

You whipped around to face him, narrowing your eyes. “If you weren’t so close and breathing down my neck, I would’ve made the shot. I just got spooked.”

“Tha’ shit ain’ gon’ fly in this apocalypse. Ya gotta deal with gettin’ spooked or else yer gonna die from a damned walker,” he drawled lowly. “Surprised ya hadn’t already.”

You were done. Choosing to ignore him, you pushed through the forest and sped walked your way back to camp, ignoring his protests.

The remaining members of the group noticed your tense expression, most raised a brow while others chose to keep silent. Daryl had quite the temper and frankly? You weren't about to deal with an angry Dixon right now.

Said Dixon emerged from the forest shortly after, his brows furrowed together in irritation. His head whipped around the area, looking to Shane.

“Ya know where Merle is?” He let out a grunt as Shane sighed deeply, knowing Daryl wouldn't like his answer.

“He’s out on the supply run with the others,” you watches as Daryl rubbed his face, rolling his eyes in the process before storming back off into the woods. Shane looked over at you with silent acknowledgment to your assumed argument with the brazen man before Lori stepped in and placed a hand on your shoulder reassuringly.

You sighed softly as you let her lead you through the trees and towards the lake where the other remaining women were, folding laundry. Lori sat you down and gave you a gentle smile before calling out to Carl, telling him to stay close.

“So what happened?” Lori chuckled softly, though concern could be heard in her voice. You shook your head and lifted a hand to rub your eye.

“He’s just got a loose screw or something.” The rage in you was sweltering, but you found it in you to keep calm. “I missed a shot with his crossbow, and he blamed me for ‘losing dinner’.” Lori laughed at your finger quotes, shaking her head.

“I would say that’s just a Dixon thing… but trust me, it’s all men.” She chuckled lightly, “my husband is like that sometimes. Not as extreme as Daryl but y’know, he had his moments.”

You tilted your head slightly as you looked over at her, “I didn’t know you and Shane were married.” It wasn’t completely secret that the two were fooling around but you didn’t think they were married. Though you immediately realized your mistake.

Lori stared at you with wide eyes, glancing over your shoulder to see if Carl had heard before shaking her head. “No, no… Shane and I aren’t married. I mean Rick… he’s uh..” she cleared her throat and you got the hint.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—” She cut you off with a gentle shake of her head, looking out to the lake awkwardly. Your assumption was quite dumb anyway, Lori and Shane wouldn’t be so secretive about their relationship if they were married…

You looked down at your lap and sighed gently, the silence was making you think again. Especially about that dumbass… Daryl. How arrogant of him to blame you for missing that shot when really, it was his fault for jumping you. And the fact he got so heated over it? Absolutely infuriating.

Lori tapped your knee gently and your head snapped up to meet her gaze. She nodded behind you and when you turned, the man you were just fuming over was standing there. Daryl was still tense but you could tell he felt guilty, or at least sorry for blowing up. He didn’t have to say anything before you got up and followed him back into the forest, the silence deafening.

“Look…” Daryl started slowly, halting in place and turning to look at you. “’m sorry fer yellin’ at you, but ya gotta admit tha’ was a shit shot comin’ from you.” All feeling of relief was taken from you at that moment, rolling your eyes as annoyance flooded through you.

You turned away from him but he caught your arm, turning you back to face him. He took a deep breath before glancing down at your legs, pointing to your daggers.

“Ya know how ta use those?” You narrowed your eyes at his question before responding in confusion.

“Yeah…? You just stab… whatever it is… you’re trying to, I don’t know, kill??” You shook your head and looked at him as if he just asked a really obvious question, which he did.

“No—” He groaned, placing his hand over his eyes as if trying to ground himself. “No, like. Can ya throw ‘em?”

Good point, you didn’t.

He took your silence and awkward expression as your answer and started to walk again, waving you to follow. This back and forth walking was really taking it out of you.

“’kay, then ‘m gonna teach ya because I do not trust you with my baby.” You snorted softly as he referred to his crossbow as “his baby.” You found it slightly endearing.

You just hoped this lesson would go well this time because you did not want to deal with a frustrated Dixon twice in one day.

taglist (comment on masterlist to be added!) @arson1893 @ryoujoking @abi67sblog @sm4-rty @skunk-dude @dontsassmecastiel @scudslut @xmaeyonaiise @welcumetomyescape @duckybird101