#startin off simple

[tikurrdurr]

maxneil week day 1: wingman nikki

🤨🏳️‍🌈❓

[dix0nspretty]

Knives, Bikes, and Stitches, Oh My!

Summary: Daryl is working on his motorcycle and you watch. Too bad you can't keep your focus.

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 1.3k words

Era: Prison (again) because he's just so yummy...

TW: Mention of blood and stitches. Maybe chronic horniness?

Y'all loved my first story and I hope this one whets your appetites just as well! I have no idea how motorcycles or vehicles of literally any kind work, so please feel free to educate me in the comments.

You put the fear of God in Daryl every time he sees you with a knife.

It’s not that you can’t use one. On the contrary, you’re a force to be reckoned with when you’re fighting. Sometimes all that can be seen of you in a fight is the shine of blood-tinged metal as you slash and stab at whatever is attacking with your twin blades. No, your knives are comfortable and at home in your grip. Maybe too comfortable.

“How many times I got to tell ya to stop eatin’ off yer damn knife?” Daryl’s rough accent sounds out in the empty courtyard. His head is bowed low as he works on his bike, not looking up as he speaks.

I’m perched on the tabletop of one of the prison’s picnic tables eating a can of peaches. Daryl, for some reason unknown to me, had elected to start taking his bike apart and putting it back together and I followed along to watch the process. I don’t know shit about vehicles, much less motorcycles, but I like spending time with the grumpy man.

“It’s fine, I’m not gonna cut myself.” I tell him as I tilt my head down to drag a slice of peach off the blade. Daryl’s eyes don’t move from the work in front of him, but I can feel him watching me. I pull the chunk into my mouth and lick the blade clean of the sticky juice.

“Told ya to cut it out.” I’m eating the canned fruit haphazardly, not paying any attention to how close I am to the edge. Daryl shakes his head. He knows it’s a matter of time before I cut my lip or tongue.

At his repeated command, I roll my eyes but pull away from the edge of my knife. I set the can of peaches down and watch him. His brown hair is getting longer now and it’s sliding down into his eyes, shielding most of his face from my watchful gaze.

“What are you doing, anyways?” I ask. I scoot myself closer to the edge of the table and peer down over his shoulder. He has one of his tools in his hand and some pieces of metal I can’t identify. It is roughly the size of my fist and cylindrical. Whatever it is, it looks important.

Daryl glances over his shoulder, feeling my curious eyes looking down. He huffs and continues his task. “Workin’.”

“No shit. Working on what?” I’m playing with my knife in my fingers, absentmindedly twisting and flipping it. Daryl looks up at me through his hair, squinting one eye against the sunlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to play it cool.

“Do ya really want to know or are ya jus’ bored?” He asks in his gruff voice. I don’t answer for a second. He looks so pretty. Get a grip, Y/N, I think to myself.

“Really want to know. Come on, I don’t know anything about bikes. Teach me something.” Daryl squints at me for several seconds longer and I’m convinced he’s going to send me inside to bother someone else, but he slowly starts talking.

“’M cleanin’ the carburetor.” He tilts his hand up to show me the same piece I was looking at earlier. “It’s startin’ to get clogged.”

“Oooookay. What’s that do?”

“It keeps the engine runnin’ smooth, basically. Don’t keep it clear and that can fuck up the bike, make it stall or overheat. Gotta take it apart and clean it every few months.”

Daryl lets me watch over his shoulder as he points out different parts of the carburetor and how to clean them. After a few minutes, his gruff voice starts to fade out and my mind begins to wander.

He just looks so good. His hands are greasy and dirty from all of his work today and his biceps are sweaty from the Georgia heat. He’s wearing one of his simple black shirts that already fit him so well and the sweat is only making him look more delicious. I’m watching his hands work over the small brass jets when I feel burning heat in my palm and look down.

I’d been messing with my knife the entire time and cut myself. I instinctively let go of the blade and it hits the concrete with a harsh clang. Daryl’s head lifts at the noise and he spins around right as I rush to tuck both hands behind my back. I look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and I’m trying to hide the chocolatey evidence. Except this time, it’s blood.

Daryl’s eyes run over me for a second, then flick down to my knife as it sits on the dirty floor. He slowly bends down and picks it up. “Y/N.” He starts, a low warning in his tone.

“It’s fine! I’m fine, I just dropped it.” My voice rambles out. There’s a high, nervous note to it and I’m hoping to God he doesn’t notice.

He raises an eyebrow. “If yer fine, why’s the knife got fresh blood on it?” Fuck.

“Uhhhhh.” I look around the courtyard, trying to find an excuse. I, naturally, see nothing. “Magic?”

Daryl huffs and crosses his arms. “Let me see your hands.”

I wince. I don’t want to get in trouble, but I can feel the blood dripping off my hand, and it stings. The longer I hold off showing him the angrier he’ll get.

“Y/N. Hand, now.” Daryl’s voice leaves no room for arguments.

“Jus’, don’t be mad?” I ask. He says nothing and I sigh, then slowly move my hands back in front of me. The blood is quickly evident on my skin.

“God damn it, girl. Why can’t ya ever listen to me?” Despite his rough tone, his hands are gentle as he takes my wrist and tilts my hand, inspecting the damage. I risk a glance at my hand. There’s a slash across my entire palm and more blood than there should be. It’s going to need stitches.

“Ya need stitches.” Told you.

 Daryl looks up from my hand but doesn’t let go of my wrist. His eyes lock with mine and he gives me a warm look. There’s exasperation and concern and I don’t know what to do with it. He takes a surprisingly clean rag from his pocket and ties it around my bleeding palm, firmly but not enough to hurt.

I can’t help but be surprised by just how gentle he’s being with me. I was expecting a pop in the side of the head and a banishment to Hershel’s cell. I look up at him through my lashes, waiting for my verbal lashing. After almost a minute, I realize there is none.

“Does this mean I gotta go in now?” I try to keep the potential disappointment from my voice and don’t entirely succeed.

“Yeah, yer going to go get those stitches. Ya weren’t listenin’ anyways.” He grumbles at me. “The hell were you doin’?”

I look away from him. I do not want to explain that I was too busy being horny over him to notice that I gouged my palm open. I risk a glance at him and I’m caught by those ocean-blue eyes.

“I was watching your hands…”

Daryl pauses, then snorts. “Maybe instead of watchin’ my hands ya should’ve been watching yours. Go get your damn stitches and I’ll show ya somethin’ else.”

[squinch-depraved]

Giggly sex? Maybe with schlatt?

yayaya combining this with another ask from @manticore-fangs because i thought they'd go well together hope you two don't mind sharing :3 starts sweet and ends spicy teehee

schlatt kissed your temple as you smiled, the echo of your laughter fading away and leaving you two in what would be silence if it weren't for your favorite cartoon playing quietly on the tv. the two of you had had a fantastic day together, leaving you giddy and nearly drunk off his touch. he loved when he got to spend this much time with you, you were both busy people so it was rare you both had a full free day line up, but here you were.

he joked, quipping lines timed perfectly to elicit laughs from you, and kissed you all over until you were giggling uncontrollably. schlatt loved your laugh, it always cheered him up and he never felt like a joke or bit was successful until he heard your distinctive snort, followed by your maniacal cackle.

but tonight, you were soft for him. putty in his hands, only giggles, none of your usual shrieking or howling. he kept trying to make you break, poking and prodding you at an increasingly rough pace before transitioning into tickling you. a grin broke out on his face when you finally cracked. your frantic, hiccuping laugh as you begged him to stop drew out his own crazed cackle, and he ceased tickling you.

"finally, doll," he chuckled after you had both caught your breath. "just wanted to hear your real laugh."

"it's always my real laugh," you replied, smiling as you swatted at him playfully.

"no, i know, it's just.. i like that laugh. the one that makes you sound insane. i have to earn it, but you always sound so happy." he stares down at you, positioned in between your legs from how he was laying on your chest earlier in the evening.

your face flushed when he slid his hand up your bare thigh under your dress. the two of you had worn relatively comfortable clothes for your date, and he had specifically requested you wear a simple dress so he could access you with ease. once his hand reached your panties, he hooked one finger into their waistband and pulled them off you in one swift motion. pussy laid bare to him, his eyes left your face and watched as his fingers swiped over your wet slit.

"ohh, god, j," you laughed nervously when he began tracing figure eights into your clit. "you make me so dizzy..."

he looked down at you lovingly. "i know, toots. keep makin' those pretty noises for me, huh? love to hear you all stupid just from my touch."

you giggled, spreading your legs wider. "in me, j," you asked through moans. he obliged and inserted his middle finger, pumping it into you and curling it to make you cry out more.

"not enough," you protested after a bit. "need your cock." you grabbed at his lower half and giggled once more when you noticed him gawking at you. "what??"

he shook his head as if coming out of a daze and pushed you back down before standing up to strip all his clothes off. you mirrored him, slipping your dress up and over your head along with your bra. when you laid back down and eagerly looked up at him, legs spread as if displaying yourself for his pleasure, he pumped his shaft in his hand a few times before climbing on top of you and slotting your legs over his shoulders.

"oh- oh! is this how we're doing it tonight?" you laughed again, unsure of what your boyfriend wanted. "just gonna bend me 'til i break?" you said it with a loving smile, but he snickered and made piercing eye contact.

"that's the plan, doll," he said with unsettling confidence. "this is me startin' out nice." with that, he pushed himself into you, inch after delicious inch filling your hole. you whined after a moment of stillness, having adjusted to his size, and he began pounding you. the sound of skin slapping was accompanied by lewd moans and grunts, overshadowing the intro to yet another episode of the long-forgotten cartoon.

you yelped and giggled when he smacked your ass and bent you even further back. "feels really good, baby," you cooed, oblivious to the fact that you were only halfway into the position he was aiming for.

"i know," he assured you, letting you enjoy it a moment longer before fully shifting to be on top, moving your legs, pinning you down, and drilling his hips down into you.

you screeched, dug your freshly done nails that he had picked out into his back, and rambled incoherently about how good he was fucking you. the weight of him holding you down like this rendered you defenseless as he impaled you again and again on his thick cock, and he had a perfect view of your face tearing up. you were still laughing somehow, high off the infinite pleasure he was giving you, except now you weren't in control of it at all. giggling as you sobbed from your approaching orgasm, you tried your best to communicate you were going to cum but if he understood, schlatt didn't say anything.

he only reacted with a, "jesus," when you squirted all over him, making a mess on his expensive couch. you were still laughing, voice shaky and lustful as he continued to jackhammer you.

"pl- aaah! please, j! 's too good!" you wept.

"what the fuck did i do to you to make you cry like this?" he spat down at you. "my dick just that good? huh?" his hips were speeding up and he dug his nails into your skin, determined to leave some kind of mark.

"y-yes, baby, so good!" you wailed.

he growled and continued chasing his high, mumbling a, "close!" before his hips stuttered and he thrust down into you far more forcefully than he had all night. he continued to fuck you, staring down at the pearly white liquid coating his shaft after it pumped in and out, and finally pulled away when you tapped his arm tiredly.

schlatt flopped onto another couch cushion, waving his hand when you went to get up in an attempt to prevent his seed from spilling out of you and onto the couch. "you already squirted all over it, i have to get it cleaned anyway. stay comfy," he said. "ya fuckin' whore."

[sassycheesecake]

"Hello everyone, I’m going ta do a -" The young Miya chef starts to speak into a video camera, his black shirt carrying his restaurant logo over his right pec muscle. His black messy hair looks like he just rolled out of bed ten minutes ago, which he secretly did because Atsumu has shown up at seven in the goddamn morning to remind Osamu of the bet that the younger twin has lost only a month ago.

The Miya twins challenged each other to do the Chubby Bunny challenge and when Osamu was about to win, you came running into the living room in just a towel because you saw a cockroach on the bathroom wall and didn't know that Atsumu came over while you were in the shower. The chef almost choked on the marshmallows when he saw you in a single towel, causing Atsumu to shriek in victory with his mouth full of marshmallows as well. In the end, you had to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on both of them.

Since it’s off-season for the professional volleyball player, he has nothing better to do than bother his younger brother and Osamu‘s pretty partner on a regular Saturday morning.

"You’re not even going to introduce yourself?" You interrupt him with a little laugh behind the counter with the video camera, where you are seated next to Atsumu so you can film your boyfriend.

"I’m Osamu Miya and today-" The ravenette starts again.

"Ya forgot ta mention the great Atsumu Miya's twin brother-" Atsumu adds cheekily, interrupting him yet again.

Osamu can’t stop the highly aggravated sigh escaping from him, and he sends his brother a death glare behind the camera.

“ANYWAY- I am going ta show ya’ll how ta make a simple deep fired shrimp onigiri. Joinin' me today is my beautiful assistant an' partner-in-crime, (Y/N)." The grey-eyed twin looks behind the camera where you are seated.

You look up with a surprised face, clearly not expecting to be helping your boyfriend.

Scooching off the bar stool in front of the counter, you hop down and make your way with slow steps to Osamu who watches you with adoration and fondness in his gray eyes.

"What’s the first step?" You ask excited, almost hopping up and down like an excited puppy.

Osamu gives you one of his rare breathtaking smiles, feeling his heart speed up by the happiness on your face.

"Well first, we need ta make sure we got all the ingredients for makin' this." The black-haired chef explains while the camera zooms out a bit and the viewer is able to see the laid out ingredients for making the dish.

Osamu points to each ingredient, explaining what it is, what you need it for and how much you need of it.

"Looks like we got everythin'. Ya ready?" Osamu leans on the counter as he watches you with a grin.

"Yes, chef." You giggle and roll up your sleeves on your hoodie.

You can hear Atsumu gag behind the camera as he hears your flirting.

"Alright. First, yer gonna crack an egg in a bowl an' whisk it, afterwards yer gonna add the flour an' the cold water. Mix all together. Add some spices so it’s not completely flavorless. Ya followin' so far?" Osamu raises his dark eyebrow as he asks you.

You do as he says, nodding in confirmation.

"Good. Now yer gonna put that off ta the side an' grab the other bowl with the flour innit an' put the shrimp in there."

Grabbing the already peeled shrimp out of the fridge, you dump them in the flour and mix it together, making sure that there are no bare parts left on the shrimp.

"Now what?"

"Now yer gonna dip the shrimp in da batter, hold it by its tail and then dunk it a few times in there. I already prepared da fryin' oil pot but I don’t wantcha ta hurt yerself so please let me do the fryin'." Osamu looks at you with his stunning ash-grey eyes and every time he looks at you with those eyes, it makes you weak in the knees, so all you do is stare at him with big eyes and nod your head.

The chef chuckles at your reaction and those chuckles send shivers down your spine.

"(Y/N), yer startin' ta drool over mah brother. Try ta tame yer thoughts please, I can hear them from here." Atsumu teases you with a mischievous grin.

Feeling your face heat up a thousand degrees, you watch as your boyfriend skillfully puts the shrimp in the frying pot, turning them over occasionally because taking them out to put them on a drying tray.

"Leave mah girl outta this. She just knows that I am a lot hotter than you." Osamu explains as he finishes the last bit of frying the shrimp.

"Yannow, if I'd known ya would be disgustin' like this, I would have stayed at home." Atsumu scrunches up his face.

"Door's right over there." Osamu mentions his head towards his front door, clearly not bothered and more than happy to have some alone time with you.

Atsumu pouts and slumps over the counter.

"(Y/N) do something. Yer ass of a boyfriend wants to kick me out." The Setter looks at you for help, giving you those brown puppy eyes.

Curse twins and their equally good looks.

"We still need Atsumu for making the video. And he can clean up afterwards since we are both cooking." You grin up at the younger twin.

"I ain’t cleanin' shit."

"He’s not gettin' anywhere near my damn kitchen."

The twins say in sync.

You laugh at their words, setting the already cooked sticky rice on the counter next to the shrimp, along with the seaweed strips, salt, water and boiled sauce for dipping the cooked shrimp in, before putting it into the rice onigiri.

The restaurant owner shows you how it’s done step by step, being slow with his movements, so you know how it’s done.

During the trying to copy his movements, the blonde excused himself to use the restroom and Osamu uses the chance to get closer to you.

He stands behind you, putting his giant hand over yours to help you shape the onigiri. He does it on a daily basis and you’re so happy that you are his and he is yours only.

"Try doin' it yerself." The dark-haired man whispers in your ear, sending shivers all over your body and getting goosebumps by his dark voice.

You feel his strong heartbeat against your back and your breathing picks up a bit. Leaning his head next to yours on your shoulder, you feel his smile against your cheek as he watches you try to shape the next onigiri by yourself.

Holding the somewhat triangular-shaped onigiri (it’s more heart shaped actually), you present it to him with an unsure look.

All of sudden, Osamu took a large bite out of it, getting some rice on his lips, shocking you a little bit even though you should have seen this coming, this is Osamu Miya after all.

Humming in bliss, your lover swallows the food before giving you a flirtatious look, turning you around so you’re standing face-to-face.

"Compliments to the chef."

Smiling in delight, the ravenette places a smooth and loving kiss onto your lips, pulling you closer to his body.

You forget the world around you, it’s just you and Osamu. And nothing else matters.

[henneseyhoe]

Still Mine.

Tyrone x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Tyrone being a slut, baby daddy drama, smutty flashback, slight daddy kink, unprotected sex(wrap it before you smack it!), abortion mentioned, pill mentioned, baby trapping, short, tad bit unedited.

SUMMARY: During Tyrone’s weekly pickup of his daughter, he tries to make his baby mama fold.

Ps. This was originally SO much longer but I didn’t like the way some parts were written so I cut it in half lolzzz

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“You know if I licked it, it’s mine, right?”

Your face twisted into a mug at Tyrone’s words while packing a diaper bag with all the necessary things your daughter needed for the weekend with him.

“Tyrone, please don’t start with that tonight” You couldn’t believe the extents he’d go just because you were seeing other people, it was crazy! Tyrone didn’t see it that way though.

The man was a tyrant. A danger to society and other men when he suspects you fucking with somebody who wasn’t him. Every single time he found out, he would let you know that you had limited days with that nigga, which he was always right about.

They’d either disappear completely or simply just stop responding to your texts.

One time you saw one of them at the grocery store and tried to say hi but he ran the other way, even left his cart stacked with groceries. You wondered what the hell was going on, and why they were so scared, but you knew there was only one person that could have them running for the hills like that, and it wasn’t you.

“I’m not startin’ shit, I’m speakin’ facts. You playin’, knowing them niggas ain’t shit compared to me”

Though the statement was true, it was bold of him to assume you wasn’t getting any good play. It was rare you did, but still! It’s the audacity.

You look at Tyrone up and down before bursting into laughter, making the infant besides you both slightly jump in her pack and play, looking around in confusion before flipping over on her stomach, a skill she just learned.

“Oop- I’m sorry, mama” You apologize to her, the baby just rolling back over and blinking up at you with a tether in her mouth. “Now, back to yo’ delusional ass!”

You thanked god the small child wasn’t old enough to understand words because she would have been cursing like a sailor by now. Pointing at Tyrone with the acrylic nails he paid for, that same signature mean look on his face that he always wore when somebody had him fucked up, you squint.

“Ain’t shit yours, and it hasn’t been yours since about a year now”

Tyrone sucks his teeth, still not believing anything you were saying to him.

“You shittin’ me, it’s always gon be mine!”

“Says who?! You crazy” You blow him off with the wave of your hand, zipping the diaper bag up and handing it to him.

He grabs it, then drops it to his feet without a care, crossing his arms. You look at him with a confused expression, your eyebrow cocked upwards.

“Why you like playin’ wit’ me?” He questioned while straight faced, but you stood your ground, unlike when you use to submit under him and his tone when you two were together. Truthfully, you use to be a bit scared of the nigga. He never gave you a reason to be personally, but he was a hard shell to crack, you rarely knew if he was happy or sad until he said something to steer you in a certain direction.

“Tyrone, quit playing and find you something safe to do, aight?” You fired back, challenging him. He moved not one inch. You knew he wasn’t scared of you at all, so this was no surprise, but you wasn’t gonna take him treating you like this in your own damn house.

“How many niggas you fucked since we broke up, Y/N?”

You shrug. “However many I wanted. I dunno, I wasn’t counting”

“Okay” He nods slowly, putting you on edge just a tad bit. You hum and study his reaction. He only did that when he had some shit up his sleeve. A simple answer, then a nod before he did or said some fuck shit. “And if I find them niggas and suddenly they stop callin’, then what?” Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“One less problem for me. You already pack up enough niggas in the glen anyway. Can’t kill ‘em all!” You giggle childishly after gaining your composure again, but as you found humor, the man stayed oh so serious.

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what a nigga can do now”

“Lemme guess, you learned to read a no loitering sign? Or maybe a no trespassing one?” You continued to joke, him finding nothing funny, as usual.

“You think you so funny” He warns, but you brush him off again, picking the diaper bag up and handing it to him again, this time forcing it in his hands to keep it there.

“I’m fuckin’ hilarious, nigga. better ask bout me”

Tyrone rolls his eyes.

“…so you really tellin’ me youn miss me?”

You turn and walk away to ignore the man further, side eyeing him as he followed. “Get out my face, Ty”

“Stop playin…so youn miss how I use to beat that pussy till you cry?” He spoke, getting closer to your ear so you could hear every syllable there. See, if this was a year and some change ago, you would have folded yourself in on a couch and put your legs to the sky faster than a pin could drop, but you had a point to prove.

You inched away from him to your kitchen, but he followed behind like a hungry shark that smelled blood.

“Let daddy dig that pussy out again, baby. You know I do it better than any other nigga”

Just with those few words, it had you thinking of flashbacks, your eyes fighting off a roll inwards. You knew the power he held in those boxers, you knew all too well what he was capable of. When Tyrone got to the pussy, he made sure he wasn’t playing no games. The man would even pull your bed from the wall everytime he came over so nobody in your moms house could hear how hard he was beating it up, talking dirty to you like you was a random bitch from the club, and that was your favorite part. That’s how you got into this mess anyway. Stuck with him and a tiny human who stole your face.

✮✮���✮

Tyrone was definitely a man of threats, but he had never fallen through with any of the non-violent ones till this.

As Tyrone bucked his hips wildly into you, your leg began to quiver in his hold. You had thanked the gods that he had opted to lay you down on your side instead of fucking you standing up like he loved to do. You were sure your legs would have gave out by now if you were upright.

“Imma nut in this pussy, baby. Can daddy nut in this pussy? You want daddy to get you pregnant?”

He asks, and you nodded gladly like a dummy. Whatever the female version of pussy whipped was, you were definitely long past it. Even in that moment, you thought he wasn’t serious about the whole baby thing. He had never talked about one outside of sex, and you honestly thought he was against the entire idea of kids with the way he’d run junebug out of his presence when he’d do normal kid shit. He just didn’t seem serious.

Hell, you knew you weren’t serious about it. What would you do with a baby in this economy? Most importantly, how the fuck were you gonna care for it? You were only 21 and he was 24, had no business being together, but obviously he wasn’t the type to follow rules of any kind, or let you go.

The more he promised to get you pregnant, the harder y’all fucked until you were on top, riding him like there was a prize at the finish line you called an orgasm. Your hands were placed on his thighs behind you and your back was arched in as you spread your legs wide and bounced that ass on him, giving him the perfect opportunity to see himself slip in and out of you.

“Shit…shit! I’m bout to cum!” He shouts while panting, a few groans exiting his mouth.

“Fuuuck! I’m bout to nut, bae!” You heard him announce once again, but that wasn’t what set off alarms in your head, it was when he held you down and continued thrusting upwards into your wetness, making you leak. You whimper and shout, toes curling into the mattress.

“Shit! Lemme get up, Ty!” You tap his hands, trying to get them off of your hips so you could move, but he continues to bounce you with his fingers gripping you tightly, bound to leave a mark. “Tyrone! lemme get up, please!” You shout with urgency, but it had already been too late. By the time you rose up off of his dick, he had been pumping out the last bit of his seed, the small amount just sliding down the shaft of his dick. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Tyrone was a shooter in more ways than one, but when it came to cumming, he was damn near like a loaded gun. You’d have to squeeze your eyes shut when giving him head because he liked to cum on your face, and the first time he did, he almost blinded you with how far he came, literally.

“My god…” You breathed harshly, looking down at his dick begin to soften.

When it was all said and done, you asked him for money for a plan B, but lo and behold, he already had a pill prepared. Right in the glove compartment of his car is where he kept it and gave it to you when he came to see you the next day. But, as the weeks went by, you started to feel like that pill wasn’t much of a plan B, or at least not your “plan B”. It was definitely Tyrone’s though.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and nine of those later, you were popping out a little girl with a full head of hair and features just like yours. If you told somebody you made the baby alone, they’d probably believe you with how much you two looked alike. You were pissed off your entire pregnancy at Tyrone, but that didn’t stop you from loving your baby, you just couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of her either, though the process wasn’t foreign to you. If the “plan B” didn’t take her out, then who says she wasn’t meant to be here? But, with that being said, as you came closer to your due date, you grew farther from Tyrone while he was trying to keep you close, you even moved out of the glen and into a whole ‘nother town over.

He was there through your entire pregnancy, or at least tried when you weren’t trying to kill him for getting into stupid shit and almost dying, but because he was still so supportive and caring for you, checking up on how both you and the baby were doing, you cut him some slack, letting him name the bouncing baby girl. He went with the name ‘Autum’ because you two met in autumn, to your surprise he even remembered that since it had been so long ago.

Fast forward five months later, y’all were still beefing on and off over stupid shit. You would curse him out over scaring away new friends and or lovers, he’d ignore it and continue, working extra hard to make sure all them niggas knew who he was. Oh, Tyrone was on a mission, and he would not be ignored by some lame nigga you wanted to fuck, or ignored by you.

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[subwaystragedy]

Count Em All || Simon "Ghost" Riley x Sub Ftm!Reader

Word Count. 1.7k

Warnings: Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Degradation, and Slight Size Kink

"One!" You cry out, having to restart the count all over again as your secret lover slaps his large hand across your ass, the punishment he set for your disobedience throughout the day. "Two!" you call, hearing Ghost chuckle, "Don't mess up again love," you hardly hear his low and taunting voice, trying to get to ten without messing up again, having not taken the punishment seriously in the beginning. Leaving your ass red and sore, the actual number of hits being somewhere nearing 25 or 30, you can’t remember, once again feeling his hand come down on your ass, making you jolt forward. Crying out a simple, “Three!” as you whimper, the pain soon turning into a masochistic form of pleasure as his hand hits your pussy every time he brings it down to smack your ass.

His large hand hitting both sides of your ass from how small you were in comparison to him, even now as you’re leaned over his knees, the size difference is noticeable. “Four!” you sob, head hanging low as you bite your lip, thankful you didn’t get distracted by your own thoughts as you become increasingly wet from the sadistic actions Ghost was dealing you. Hearing him chuckle after smacking your ass again, “F-five!” you wail. Voice becoming hoarse from all yelling, “Startin’ to think you’re enjoying this more than you should,” Ghost laughs, fingers soon finding their way to your entrance as he runs them up and down. “Fingers are already slick with your juice's love,” he teases, knowing you’re enjoying it all from the small whimper you let out.

Hearing him chuckle lightly at your pathetic noises, “Really are enjoyin’ this more than you should, huh?” the words make you whine, earning another laugh from him as he gently pushes his fingers inside you. Only a knuckle deep as his free hand rubs your sore and aching ass, the gentleness stings as your raw skin screams from the break of contact and pain it's providing. His thick fingers stretching you as he pushes them fully inside you, the feeling like always making you desperate for something more than just his fingers. His still fingers inside you make you moan, the small and unintentional attempt to push yourself back against him, the quick but small amount of sting that comes from him gently slapping your ass once again is almost unbearable.

Tears falling slowly as he shushes you, “You can always safe word out love, no need to take what you can’t han-” “No!” you cut him off, wiggling your hips as you whine, “W-want you,” you softly sob, needing more than what he’s giving you as you raise your hips. Whimpering softly just to hear a laugh follow from him, “Count it,” he commands before he brings the hand previously rubbing your ass down to your smack it again, taking a moment to think of where you left off as you yell out before counting, "Six!" Letting out a sigh of relief as he praise you, "Good boy, glad you can keep up," feeling him smack your ass repeatedly and quickly, too fucked from his fingers pushing in and out of you slowly afterwards.

Hearing him exhale, seemingly amused with the loud scream you let out, almost convulsing as he gives the back to back spanks, "How many was that love?" "N-nine?," "Awe, that's just too bad pretty boy," you practically sob at his words. Throwing your head down, knowing you'll have to restart all over again as he tells you, "It was ten love," you whine, a few more tears running from your eyes at the disappointment. Having been so close to the actual amount, hearing him click his tongue in his mouth as he runs his hand over your sore ass again, light feather-like touches as he moves his finger back to your cunt with the other hand. Entering you immediately, no more teasing as he begins to finger you at a satisfying pace, humming as he watches you squirm and hears you whine, snickering quietly to himself as he looks down at you.

Soon feeling the small bump against your stomach turn into a full bulge against you as he picks up the pace of his wrist, thick and long fingers hitting deep enough inside you to make you moan and writhe in pleasure. You're noises clearly effecting him, both of you unable to ignore the growing bulge in between his legs, but you knew he wasn't going to give anything to you any time soon. "S-simon please~" you whine, hearing him hum as he slows his fingers down to let you speak, "I want you~ Please Si," earning a laugh from the man above you as you hear him give a simple command, "Get up then love, face down, ass up, on the bed now." Following his orders without a second thought for once in the day, getting off of him and crawling into the bed in the bunk room, just like he said, ass up and face down in the bed as you hear it creek when he removes his weight. 

Looking back to see him standing at the edge of the bed undoing his pants, as he once again makes the bed creek with his weight, being almost too small to line up with him properly. Soon feeling his cock on your ass as he rubs it in between your legs, hearing you moan makes him laugh, "A desperate lad aren't you?" he teases, pushing his head inside you before pulling it out. Once again laughing at your distressed whine, doing the action once more only for you to push back, feeling more of him entering you but soon feeling a harsh slap to your ass, harder than any of them before. "I didn't say you could move," he talks while shoving the rest of himself inside you.

Gasping at the sudden fullness, the pace he immediately sets is brutal, pounding into you with his hands on your waist to stabilize his movements, fingers basically touching as he holds you. The moans, if not heard before, were definitely being heard now by the rest of 141, increasing in volume and frequency, unable to keep it all inside as you feel him deep in your stomach. Looking down to see that small bulge in your guts that could make you cum on the spot, once again feeling his hand come down on your already stinging ass. The scream once again pulling a laugh out of Ghost, "Such a small thing beneath me," he moves his hands to grip your ass, "Can fit all of your ass in my hands," he laughs.

The tight grip on your rear makes you whine, "Come on baby, bounce on me," he gently commands, moving your hand to your stomach to feel him make that small bulge you love so much. Moving yourself back on forth, his hands still on your ass as he groans, only slightly helping as he lets you do most of the work to please yourself and him, "God you look so pathetic underneath me," he chuckles, "So small and cute," he once again laughs. His deep voice getting to you as you moan softly, whimpering and whining like the cock drunk whore you are for the man behind you, rolling your hips up and down as you push and pull yourself back and forth.

"Off, now, " Ghost commands, immediately flipping you over as you pull forward enough to make him pull out, now laying on your back as he pushes your legs up, knees near your head as he lines himself back up with your entrance, pushing in and setting a brutal pace. Pushing you up aggressively every time he thrust into you, your eyes closed with your mouth hung open in a silent moan as he presses down on your stomach. The force of his hips against your ass still not giving you a break from the pain on the raw and sensitive skin, hearing him grunt and groan at the feeling of your walls clenching against him making him get unbearably close. 

"Lookin' so beautiful love," he talks in between soft moans, trying to hear you screams of pleasure and pain, on hand keeping you leg as far back as it could go, the other relaxed as he angles himself to fuck you deeply. The bulge seemingly growing in size as he fucks you from the new angle, "So small under me," he comments, groaning with his head tilted back before he take his hand off your stomach to pull his balaclava mask just above his nose as he leans down to kiss you. Holding his face as he does, feeling his grunts and groans against your lips as you moan against his, knowing he's getting close, silently begging for him to cum inside you as you unintentionally clenching around him at the erotic noises of your kissing and sloppy sex. 

Pulling away to catch your breath properly, head thrown back as you feel him thrust quicker, trying to fill you up with his cum, and he eventually does. Grunting and groaning as he rest his forehead against your as he continues to fuck you through his own orgasm, feeling his cum inside you spurring you own orgasm, almost squirting on his cock as you finish with him. Ghost giving a few slow but deep thrust as he rolls his hips into you, whimpering as you feel almost unbearably full of your lover, his lips meeting yours again in a soft and tender kiss, hearing and feeling him sigh peacefully against you. The sweet moment being interrupted by pounding on the bunks door, a thick Scottish accent following, "Keep it down next time!" causing you both to laugh after the initial shock dies down, breathy and exhausted laughs leaving the two of you as you fall into each other. "Did so well love," he kisses your forehead, moving so you're atop of him instead of underneath, big arms wrapped around you as he pulls you close, your head on his chest as he stays inside of you, "Proud of you handsome."

[chaisshitposts]

Hi I am rabbit🐇 anon and I wanna say that Idk why but i m not understanding the pych-k method like i don't get what PPL say especially when ppl tag that post I just don't get it so can you tell step by step how to do pych-k method for void.

P.s we r same age lol

oh yeah??? cool! glad to meet a fellow adult 🐇 anon🤝 and that's ok, I'm more than happy to explain it for ya in simpler terms, it be like that sometimes so I get it. yer mind is like a computer, yer subconscious is the motherboard of info, and while ya do psych-k ya are basically downloadin' an entirely new program with new codin' and all that jazz with the affirmations ya choose, then ya save that affirmation in yer motherboard.

psych-k is about usin' yer entire brain, both hemispheres simultaneously, and how to do it is super simple. when you're just startin' out with it, I always recommend that ya start off with your left side (it doesn't really matter what side ya start with but some people do better when they have clear instructions)

left side -> ya wanna start off with crossin' yer left ankle over yer right ankle, set yerself a five minute timer and then start it, immediately afterwards you're gonna cross yer left wrist over yer right wrist and then interlock yer fingers. for a visual aid, check out this video -> it's not very long and I hope it'll be easy for ya to follow while ya are doin' this pose, you're gonna close yer eyes and repeat yer affirmation for the duration of yer timer. with this pose, ya more than likely will start to feel an influx of thoughts that may try and argue with yer affirmation. it's important to invite those negative thoughts and just let them flow, let them happen, and just keep repeatin' yer affirmation over and over. what yer doin' is teachin' yerself somethin' new until these resistant and negative thoughts disappear. i should also mention that sometimes ya may not experience any negative thoughts at all, which is fine too, just keep affirmin' for the five minutes. some folks also report that they feel physical symptoms when doin' psych-k, which is also normal, and it's perfectly okay if ya don't, that's also normal, everyone is impacted differently.

ya hold this posture for the entirety of yer five minute timer. once you're done you're gonna 'save' yer progress by uncrossin' your ankles and wrists and then press the finger tips of both yer hands together (kinda like when villains are havin' their evil scheme moment, y'know) just make sure all yer fingers touch each other and hold it for 10 seconds --- like below BUT MAKE SURE ALL YER FINGERS TOUCH TIPS 🙏, no palms need to be touched, you're not prayin'.

once you're done, you're gonna repeat the entire process for the right side where ya cross yer right ankle over left ankle, and yer right wrist over yer left wrist, hold that pose for five minutes with yer timer and then save it again with the pose mentioned above.

ideally, this'll completely change whatever limitin' belief ya had with the affirmation ya chose after a single session, BUT sometimes it can take more than one single session of psych-k which is also completely normal especially when dealin' with something that's been deeply embedded in yer mind for such a long time. think of it like a stubborn program in yer computer that you're tryna get rid of, sometimes it can take a few tries to completely wipe out the old programming.

somethin' else that can happen is that psych-k did work but does not instantly reflect in your 3D which can sometimes make people think it didn't work so they fall back into old thinkin' and start reaffirmin' the old story. h o w e v e r, ya can easily find out if psych-k worked through the use of muscle testin'. I'll provide some reference posts for muscle testin' below which can also be used in combination with any and all methods of manifestin'.

muscle testing applied kinesiology

psych-k is just a form of focused, super affirmin'. it can also be used to calm yerself down just from simply crossin' your ankles, many people do it unconsciously without realizin'. i recommend that the next time ya have a moment of panic, anxiety, or any other negative feeling, ya should try crossin' yer ankles and see what happens. 🕵️

if ya need anymore clarification, just let me know!!!

[wizardofrozz]

I don't think I submitted an ask to you yet lol so: for the first kiss prompts,

the hands. on the waist. oh my god. with Fox!! ❤️

Above Coruscant

Commander Fox x reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: 18+ for suggestive actions, groping, and mention of war. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Well this got away from me but I really shouldn't be surprised...its Fox after all 😂 pretty sure I'm going to write smut that follows this because I can't contain myself when it comes to Fox lmao. Also, if you're a Republic Commando fan, there's a tiny (just a mention) cameo for all of you 👀

The landing pad was empty, Coruscant’s faint breeze ruffling your hair as you leaned against the railing. You occasionally glanced down at the dots of people moving around below, only paying half a mind to the message you were typing. With a soft sigh, you send the message to Captain Obrim, tucking your datapad away and turning to lean back against the railing. 

Your job with the Coruscant Security Force put you in some interesting situations over the years but the start of the Clone Wars had ramped up your workload, especially when Jaller had offered you a spot in his Anti-Terrorism unit. The job also came with some new coworkers in the form of the Coruscant Guard, specifically the four commanders. It took some time, but slowly you started to get to know each of the commanders despite coordinating with Commander Fox the most. 

He could be...stiff at times. You didn’t like to use cold because after watching him interact with his men, he was anything but. However, the more time you spent around him seemed to have him warming up to you. Now, if only that didn’t make your stupid little crush on him worse. 

You felt like a teenager again, getting giddy when you knew you’d see him but the worst part was that he seemed to return the feelings. His smile softened a bit when he looked at you, he stood just a little too close and brought you caf just the way you liked it when you spent hours debriefing the Guard. Sometimes, he’d even flirt with you, just enough to make your stomach somersault. But then it would stop abruptly.

Fox held back, pulling away when you tried to meet him halfway and it would’ve hurt if you didn’t see the emotion reflected in his expression every time. 

The thump of footsteps forced your mind back to the present and Maker, did you wish you could’ve stayed oblivious. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you scanned from his heavy boots upward. You’d never seen Fox in anything but crimson armor and you hated that this outfit was doing something for you. 

It was a simple outfit, just plain brown pants, a black shirt, and a black jacket but there was something oddly alluring about seeing him look so...normal. You swallowed around the lump in your throat and stood straighter as he approached, absently brushing a stubborn curl off his forehead. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach when you noticed that his cheeks were a little rosey and it occurred to you that he probably caught you checking him out. 

“Commander,” you greeted, praying your voice didn’t sound as breathless as you felt. A small, unconscious smile lifted the corner of his mouth and it made your face feel too hot. 

“Startin’ to think I’m late,” he huffed, glancing at the speeder parked nearby. 

“Nah, I wasn’t far,” you replied with a shrug, wandering closer to the speeder, prompting him to follow. You grabbed the spare helmet off the back and tossed it to Fox, smirking when he almost fumbled to catch it. Fox’s brows knitted together as he stared down at the modified Ubese helmet. When his eyes lifted again you shrugged, moving to take it from him. 

“You don’t have to wear it immediately but when we get to the club you’ll have to put it on,” you explained, tucking the helmet into one of the bike’s saddle bags. 

“Will I be able to breathe in it?” Fox eyed the helmet apprehensively, leaning over to look into the saddle bag. 

“No, Fox, I’m gonna let you suffocate,” you huffed, arching a brow. “It’s modified so you’ll be able to breathe but it also acts as a good excuse for why you can’t take it off.” Fox hummed, resting his hands on his hips and looking at you through his lashes. 

“Alright,” he mumbled, his eyes following the length of the speeder. There was a hint of color high on his cheeks when he glanced in your direction again. “We’re sharing, huh?”

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug. But there was a small part of you that hoped he really didn’t mind. His eyes lingered on your face for a moment before he bent down to grab one of the riding helmets you’d managed to find. Fox tossed the helmet so it twisted around before he caught it again, slipping it over his head with ease. The visor was still up when his gaze drifted back to you, allowing you to see the way his eyes wrinkled as he smirked. 

Yeah, you had definitely been staring. 

You quickly pulled your helmet on, trying not to watch as Fox climbed onto the bike, scooting forward to leave room for you. You almost wondered if Jaller purposefully didn’t find a second speeder. Fox tensed slightly when your hand gripped his shoulder, using it to steady yourself as you climbed on. His head turned, watching you from the corner of his eye as you settled in behind him. 

Logically, you knew there was only one way to keep yourself safely on the bike but now that you were faced with the reality of it, your face burned. You moved slowly, wrapping your arms around his waist and your mouth felt too dry at the heat simmering in his dark eyes. You pulled in a slow, calming breath and shifted to get comfortable. Your exhale was cut off with a yelp when two large hands wrapped around your wrist, pulling you tighter against Fox’s back. His voice was muffled behind the helmet but the mischief twinkling in his eyes told you he knew what he was doing.

“Don’t wantcha fallin’ off.” You rolled your eyes, thankful he couldn’t see the small smile on your face, and tightened your arms around his torso. Fox glanced over his shoulder one last time with a wink before snapping the visor of his helmet down. The speeder’s engine roared as Fox twisted the throttle, the speeder shooting forward and you instinctively squeezed his torso. Shithead.

Skyscrapers whizzed by as Fox sped up, merging into the nearest skylane. It was going to be a long ride to the club you were supposed to infiltrate and usually, it wouldn’t bother you. However, Fox was never involved in any of the other long trips you’d been on. The slow, even movement of his chest under your hands was oddly distracting and you shifted your hands toward his waist. You tried to let your mind wander but every minute shift of the man in front of you made it nearly impossible. 

You shifted back slightly, suddenly aware of how your legs framed his, your mind conjuring up a few of the dreams that had you waking up blushing. Fox settled into the seat, sitting up a bit straighter, and the movement forced your hands a bit lower. His stomach was warm and solid, your fingers itching to trace the lines of muscle you could feel under his clothes. Maybe it was his cheeky little wink or the fact that your crush was only getting worse the longer you knew him that had you sliding your hand under his coat. Fox’s fingers flexed, gripping the handlebars a little tighter and you smirked to yourself. 

His stomach clenched, his hips shifting slightly when you pressed your palm under his ribs. The howl of the wind was muffled through your helmet and you turned your head, watching the beings in the vehicles around you. Fox’s chest expanded with a deep breath and you took the opportunity to shift your hand, dropping it lower, dragging it across his stomach. He didn’t react, switching lanes to avoid a speeder going under the speed limit. 

You were toeing a line that you’d stayed far away from up to this point...and Fox was letting you. He could’ve pushed your hands away, making it clear he didn’t want this but instead, he leaned more of his weight against you. Taking a deep breath, you let your hands wander, sliding down enough to almost brush the waistband of his pants before moving to rest them against his hips. 

You lingered there for a bit, not squeezing, just lightly holding onto his hips as he maneuvered through Coruscant’s busy skylanes. Fox stiffened when your hands finally moved, sliding down to his thighs and you couldn’t stop yourself from squeezing, licking your lips absently. Fox tilted his head, almost like he was trying to crack it, and your confidence only grew. Muscles flexed under your hands and you ached to feel him without layers of fabric in the way. 

Fox’s thigh twitched when you trailed your fingers a little higher, brushing the inseam of his pants. But you didn’t stop there, lazily following the stitching upward, applying just enough pressure for him to feel it. You were almost at the bulge in his pants, ready to pull back when Fox’s hips shifted forward, and you froze, hand hovering inches away from his crotch. Fox turned his head and you could almost see the anxiety in the set of his shoulders. You had to make a choice. 

Fox’s hip jerked again when you lightly cupped him through his pants.

You couldn’t hear him but you could feel a groan rumble through his chest and you shivered. His head tipped back when you squeezed lightly, his back straightening as he sat up. His cock twitched against your hand and you gasped into the privacy of your helmet. Then suddenly nerves buzzed under your skin, uncertainty threatening to eat you up. You wanted this more than anything but stepping over that line was big, to say the least. 

Anxiety quickly got the better of you and you released him, ready to pull away only for a large hand to cover yours. You blinked at the back of his helmet, chewing on your bottom lip when his head turned to glance over his shoulder. Fox nodded, squeezing your hand once before reaching for the handlebar again. You clenched your teeth, letting out a shaky breath as you settled against Fox’s back. You wanted nothing more than to be anywhere but on a speeder hundreds of feet from solid ground. 

You didn’t move your hand for a while, letting some of the tension melt off Fox’s shoulders first. His chin dipped down when you slowly started to rub him through his pants and your mouth watered when his breathing picked up. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you could make him cum like this. Fox’s back arched, hips jerked when you tightened your grip and the arousal simmering under your skin continued to intensify.

Then Fox suddenly jerked into a more upright position, slowing the speeder enough to exit the skylane and you released him, moving your hand to his hip again.

Descending into the lower levels made your stomach turn and you kept your head on a swivel as Fox landed the speeder. He seemed to almost slump with a harsh exhale and you tried to hide your laughter as you climbed off the bike. Fox lingered on the seat for a moment, twisting to hide the way he readjusted his pants before standing. He kept his back to you, hands clenching and unclenching at his side as you lifted your helmet off. 

There was commotion somewhere behind you, an argument or something, but you kept your attention on Fox. He eventually reached up to lift the nondescript helmet off, setting it on the speeder’s seat but he still didn’t turn around. Fear welled up in your stomach and you immediately regretted the fleeting touches on the speeder as you took a step closer. 

“Fox?” His shoulders lifted in an exaggerated exhale and then he was moving. Your breath hitched when he grabbed the front of your jacket, yanking you closer. Your head was spinning, eyes widening when you registered Fox’s lips on yours. It took a moment for your fight or flight instinct to settle but once it did, your eyes fluttered shut and you melted into the kiss. 

Your lips parted for his tongue and Fox tasted faintly of caf, a bitter yet welcome taste. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck, shivering when his hands released your jacket, following the curve of your body before coming to rest on your hips. Breaking the kiss was harder than you anticipated but Fox stayed close, resting his forehead against yours.  

“Where did that come from?” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Long overdue,” he huffed, slowly rubbing your sides. 

“And what does it mean?” Fox chuckled under his breath, bumping his nose against yours, a disarmingly tender show of affection. 

“It means, I’m not done with you, honey.”

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @cw80831 @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino @dickarchivist

[daryltwdixon]

The Promise of Us: Chapter 39

“So the game goes, I say something I’ve never done, and if you have done it, you drink. If you haven’t done it, I drink. Then, we switch,” Beth explains, sitting across from Daryl with a cup in her hand. “You really don’t know this game?”

“I ain’t never needed a game to get lit before,” Daryl replies, the skin of his thumb caught between his teeth. 

“Wait, are we startin’?” Beth asks, her excitement clashing with his simmering reluctance.

“How do you know this game?” he mutters, his suspicion barely hidden.

“My friends played, I watched.” She brushes off his question and adds, “Okay, I’ll start.” She closes her eyes, pretending to think hard, but her first attempt is obvious. “I’ve never… shot a crossbow! So, now you drink.”

Daryl rubs his fingers together, staring at her with a deadpan expression. He wants to resist, but the rules seem simple enough. He reaches for his cup, bringing the strong liquid to his lips, feeling the familiar burn as he drinks. “Ain’t much of a game,” he mutters.

“That was a warm-up!” Beth insists. “You go.”

He grunts, hand returning to his mouth, teeth picking at the skin around his nails. His mind’s a mix of annoyance and hesitation. “I don’t know,” he mumbles.

“Just… say the first thing that pops in your head!” she presses, trying to keep the energy light.

“I’ve never been outta Georgia,” he finally says.

“Really?” Beth responds, intrigued. “Okay, good one.” She takes a sip, her curiosity palpable.

She continues quickly, eyes narrowing a bit as she thinks. “I’ve never been drunk and did somethin’ I regretted.”

Daryl stiffens, feeling the subtle dig. He knows she’s trying to pry, to make him crack open, even a little. His defenses flare up, and it’s not anger he feels—it’s shame. He lifts his glass and takes a swig, the bitter taste doing nothing to wash away the memories of all the bad decisions he’s made under the influence of liquor.

“I’ve done alotta things,” he says flatly, the words clipped.

“Your turn,” she prompts, eager to keep the rhythm going.

Daryl’s eyes shift as he thinks, feeling the weight of her gaze. “I’ve never been on vacation,” he says, voice low.

“What about campin’?” she asks, her tone lighter, almost playful.

“No, that’s just somethin’ we—” He pauses, the words catching in his throat. His gaze drops, shame bleeding into his expression until he looks up again after a heartbeat, “I had to learn. To hunt.”

Beth’s eyes soften. “Your dad teach you?” she asks, trying to be careful.

“Mhm,” he grunts, nodding, still watching for her reaction. 

Beth shifts awkwardly before coming up with her next attempt. “I’ve never been to jail. I mean—as a prisoner.”

His eyes narrow, the question striking a raw nerve. The old shame, buried deep but never forgotten, wells up inside him. He feels suddenly exposed, his past laid bare in front of her. 

“Is this what you think of me?” he asks quietly, voice tight with both defensiveness and hurt.

Beth’s eyes widen, realizing she’s crossed a line. “I didn’t mean anything serious,” she backpedals quickly. “I thought maybe the drunk tank. Even my dad got locked up for that back in the day.”

Daryl doesn’t let up, pointing to her with a rough gesture. “Drink up,” he demands, his hand back on his face, fingers covering his chin as if trying to shield himself from her scrutiny.

But Beth’s smile creeps back. “Wait! Prison guard, were you a prison guard before?” she guesses, her enthusiasm unintentionally prodding him further.

He takes his time answering, staring hard at her. “No,” he says at last, his voice low and flat.

“It’s your turn again,” she presses gently, trying to get back into the rhythm of the game.

But Daryl’s done. He pushes himself up abruptly, muttering, “Gotta take a piss,” as he stalks out of the cramped living room. It’s an excuse, and a thin one, but he needs distance. The game was never about fun to him—it was an interrogation, a slow peeling back of layers he’s spent the life he had now trying to forget.

He heads into the kitchen, releasing his fly, dropping his glass of leftover alcohol on the floor as it shatters on the ground. Her questions riled something in him��how different their lives have been, how far apart their worlds are. Beth grew up with family dinners and curfews; Daryl grew up with broken bottles and bruises, fighting just to exist. And then there’s Y/N, who grew up in the same kind of hell he did. She got it, never needed to ask these kinds of questions because she knew—she lived it. The shame from his past was never something he had to explain to her.

The glass shatters beneath Daryl’s boots, and Beth’s voice cuts through the chaos, urgent but hushed. “You have to be quiet.”

But Daryl’s fury is already boiling over, his body coiled tight with anger. “Can’t hear you! I’m takin’ a piss!” he shouts, voice harsh and ragged.

“Daryl, don’t talk so loud,” Beth hisses, her voice tense.

“What? You my chaperone now?” he barks back, his voice rough, his words laced with a bitterness that’s been festering inside him for far too long. He urinates against the kitchen wall, the anger a twisted kind of relief. When he’s done, he zips up, spinning to face Beth. “Oh, wait, it’s my turn, right?”

Beth’s face is a mix of frustration and something close to pity, but Daryl ignores it. He looks out the grimy window into the darkness of the woods, eyes distant, searching for something he’ll never find. “I’ve never, uhh…” he mutters, adjusting his belt as he steps into the room. “Never eaten frozen yogurt , never had a pet pony. Never got nothin’ from Santa Claus .” His voice turns sharper, colder, as he shoves over a dusty vase that crashes to the floor, shattering in front of him. He steps closer to Beth, lip curling with disdain. “Never relied on anyone for protection before—hell, I don’t think I’ve ever relied on anyone for anything!”

“That’s not true—” Beth begins, her voice softening as she tries to reach him, “You and—”

“ Don’t ,” he snarls, his voice breaking, pointing a finger at her, his face twisted with barely-contained rage. “Don’t you dare.” It feels like a dam breaking now, and he keeps going, throwing words at her again and again:

“I’ve never sung out in front of a big group in public, like everything was fine,” he continues, his voice heavy with contempt, each word dripping with raw pain. “I sure as hell never cut my wrists lookin’ for attention.”

Beth’s eyes widen, her initial shock quickly turning to anger. She twists to face him fully, her back straightening, her expression hardened. But before she can speak, the banging against the door grows louder, a chorus of guttural growls now turned to snarling from the walker outside.

“Ah, sounds like our friend out there’s tryin’ to call all his buddies!” Daryl screams, his voice rising with a reckless, desperate edge. He kicks a chair across the kitchen, making as much noise as he can. “Hey, you never shot a crossbow before? I’m gonna teach you, right now,” he snarls, grabbing Beth roughly by the arm. He kicks open the back door, dragging her out into the low evening light.

“Daryl, stop it! Daryl!” Beth squeals, panic and anger clear in her voice, but he pulls her forward, ignoring her protests.

The walker at the window turns toward them, drawn by the commotion. “Dumbass,” Daryl growls, leveling his crossbow at it. “Come here, dumbass.” He releases an arrow, pinning the walker to a nearby tree.

“You wanna shoot?” he demands, shoving the crossbow into Beth’s hands.

“I don’t—I don’t know how,” she stammers, her voice breaking.

“Oh, it’s easy,” Daryl says, positioning himself behind her, his chest pressing into her back. He forces the crossbow into her trembling arms, guiding her to aim. “Come here, right corner,” he mutters darkly, firing another arrow that lands with a dull thunk.

“Let’s practice later!” Beth insists, fists clenched as she tries to break free from his grip.

“Come on, it’s fun,” he grunts, voice harsh and almost manic.

“Just stop it! Daryl!” she cries, twisting away.

“Come here,” he repeats, his voice low and menacing, pulling her back toward the walker pinned to the tree. “Eight ball,” he snarls, releasing another arrow that thuds into its chest.

“Just kill it!” Beth yells, her voice thick with fear and frustration.

“Come here, Greene. Let’s pull these out,” he says releasing her, his tone almost taunting as he steps closer to the walker.

But Beth moves quicker, lunging forward and plunging her knife into the walker’s skull with a sharp, angry thrust.

“The hell you do that for? I was havin’ fun!” Daryl yells, his voice raw as he gets in her face, his breath coming fast and angry.

“No, you were bein’ a jackass!” Beth shouts back, her eyes blazing with tears. “If anyone found my dad—”

“Don’t,” he snarls, cutting her off sharply. “Not even remotely the same.” He’s close now, so close that his anger is palpable, radiating off him in waves.

“Killin’ them is not supposed to be fun ,” Beth spits, leaning in, unafraid now, her eyes fierce. 

“What do you want from me, girl?” he roars, his voice breaking with a mix of rage and grief. 

Beth cries in his face, “I want you to stop actin’ like none of this matters! Like nothin’ we went through matters! Like none of the people we lost meant anything!” her voice is harsh, cracking, as she bares her teeth at him, “It’s bullshit!”

“Is that what you think?” Daryl’s voice drops, his anger smoldering into something darker, more bitter. His eyes are cold, but his voice trembles slightly. 

“That’s what I know,” she snaps, voice faltering as she looks him up and down, “You haven’t even said her name , Daryl— just say it! Say you miss her! And that you miss the others! Rick, Michonne—”

“You don’t know nothin’,” he growls, shaking his head violently.

“I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl ,” she cries, her voice wavering with a mix of pain and frustration. “I’m not like her, Daryl! I’m not like Y/N! I’m not tough, but I’ve survived! But you don’t get it, ’cause I’m not like the two of you, or the others. Carol or Maggie… But I made it! And you don’t get to treat me like crap just because you’re afraid!” She waves her hands at him, her face wet with tears.

He steps closer, his face inches from hers, his breath ragged. “I ain’t afraid of nothin’.”

“I remember,” Beth says, her voice lower, shaking with tears, “When that little girl came outta the barn, after my mom. And the night you found Y/N in the field, seeing you in the morning on the highway with her covered in blood, the both of you. And now God forbid you ever let anybody else get too close.”

“Too close, huh? Bet you know all about that,” Daryl sneers, his finger jabbing at her accusingly. “Lost two boyfriends and can’t even shed a tear!” His voice is full of venom. “Your whole family’s gone and all you can do is just go out lookin’ for hooch like some dumb college bitch!”

“Screw you, you don’t get it!” she shouts.

“No, you don’t get it!” Daryl roars, his voice breaking. “Everyone we know is dead! ”

“You don’t know that!” she screams back, desperation in her voice.

“Might as well be, ’cause you ain’t never gonna see ‘em again!” he snaps, “Rick–” he stops short, her name almost coming off the tip of his tongue then, but he holds it back, the only morsel he can hang onto as his walls come crumbling down in this moment, “You ain’t never gonna see Maggie again!”

“Daryl, just stop!” she begs, reaching for him.

“No!” he twists away, the pain and guilt rushing up uncontrollably as his back faces her. After a heartbeat, his voice breaks as he says, his throat tight, “The Governor rolled right up to our gates. Maybe if I… if I wouldn’t have stopped lookin’, maybe because I gave up. That’s on me!” 

“Daryl—”

“No!” he shouts again, shaking her off, his voice cracking, “And your dad …Maybe I coulda done somethin’...and her , god…” his voice wavers now, the sting in his eyes, his throat tight and throbbing, “She’s…she’s prob–probably already...already...dead,” the words barely make it out of his mouth, his throat so thick with grief.

But suddenly, Beth is on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle, hugging him with a fierce, desperate strength. It’s like she’s trying to hold together all the unraveling pieces of him as her arms wrap around him, fingers interlocked against his chest so he doesn’t push her off. But he doesn’t. Daryl’s chest heaves, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The dam finally breaks, and he sobs into the night air—quiet, breathless, and broken.

[dovkss]

hawks confronting reader for trying to hide their stockholm syndrome

word count: 957

warning: 18+; stockholm syndrome, emotional abuse, mentions of kidnapping, manhandling, bratty! reader, threatening, yandere themes

a/n: a lil sum to make up for lost timeee! ;(

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. As he had planned, your feelings for him had began to shift.

No longer were you fighting him, spitting at him, yelling at him. No longer were you being disobedient, pushing his face away when he tried to kiss you.

No longer were you being an ungrateful whore.

You couldn't help but feel attached to him. It was hard not to. You haven't had any contact with an actual human besides him for the past few months. And, boy, were they long.

You got used to seeing his face. His gorgeous face. You were now comfortable enough to caress the fluffy red feathers he would leave in your space on purpose.

After being locked up in the basement during the day, you began to actually look forward to when he came back to you from patrolling or whatever hero work he had to do for the day.

When that door opened and he stepped through it, you found yourself smiling or letting out a sigh of relief.

You were aware of what was happening to you. You had read about it online some years ago. Stockholm Syndrome was what it was called... you think. People who are victims of abuse will start to empathize with their abusers to cope with the trauma they faced.

Well, he never hit you. Nor did he force you to do anything you didn't want to.

That's not abuse, is it? Surely not, you were perfectly fine and able to take care of yourself.

He kidnapped you, yeah. But... he was nice to you. He fed you, washed you, kept you warm, and bought you your favorite things!

That's not abuse.

Takami also took note of your change of heart. You never knew when your gaze on him lingered a little longer than normal. Your smile now wasn't sarcastic or half-assed.

At first he thought you were up to something. Maybe you were creating a ploy to blindside him in an attempt to escape.

Like he’d let that happen. Of course not.

But knew he had you wrapped around his finger when you let his lips come in context with your neck without putting up a fight. You were doing so well for him.

Only problem was you not admitting it. That annoyed the hell out of him.

You couldn’t let him know that you were coming around, then he would be getting his way. But if he was keeping you safe, what would be the harm in that?

No harm at all. Just a hurt ego. If he knew he was getting his way, you’d never be able to live it down. That cocky bastard.

"You cozy?" He asked you, his tone light. You nodded as you sat on the opposite end of the warm couch. It was movie night tonight, it was his turn to pick the movie.

You both sat in silence for the first half hour of the movie. You could see in the corner of your eye him looking at you. You bit your lip nervously, only trying to focus on the movie.

"Ya wanna sit next to me?" His next question was simple enough. You looked over at him. You knew you'd never forgive yourself for this. You scooted over a bit, your shoulder almost touching his.

He reached over and pulled your head into his neck and grabbed your legs to dangle over his. You huffed but said nothing.

"You startin' to like me yet?" He rested his head on top of yours. You rolled your eyes, not saying anything in response.

"Not even a little?" He chuckled. "This 'playing hard to get' act is getting old, Babe."

"It's not an act. You're just 'hard to get rid of'."

In a flash, you felt his demeanor change. Suddenly, he's on you before you even know it. He slams you back into the cushion, bringing his face to your cheeks, squishing them together. “I hope you know that you're never, ever getting rid of me. Nobody is fucking coming for you either, so I suggest you come to terms with that now."

You wriggle under his firm grip, trying to pry him off of you. You found it to be useless as he brought your face closer to his, forcing you to make eye contact with his yellow ones.

You couldn't lie to yourself. Being this close to him made you feel some things. You panicked.

"M' sorry, please, let me go..." you begged, closing your eyes. You hoped he listened, as your face was growing hot and beginning to cramp. You braced yourself for the nail marks that you would feel embedded in your skin.

He grinned. "Give me a kiss."

You leaned forward slightly, pecking his lips. He scoffed and shook you a bit, making you whine. "A real one, c'mon now."

You obeyed and attached your lips to his. He wasted no time slipping his tongue into your mouth. He wasn't just kissing you, he was letting you know that he was in charge.

For as long as you're here.

He pulled away with a chuckle before pushing your head down away from him further into the couch, then letting go. He returned to his spot while you lay there, trying to catch your breath.

You hadn't even noticed your thighs being clenched together. Your eyes watered slightly at the idea.

You were losing it. You were losing yourself, slowing turning into his. Your life now in his hands. Your freedom being stripped away from you.

“When I get outta here, m’ gonna kill you.” Your words were timid and empty.

The only thing left he had to change about you was that bratty mouth.

[onmyyan]

Your writing brings joy to my shriveled brain. How do you think it would go if Steven from Moonnight had a female roommate who desperately tried to ignore the weird shit. Acting like nothing was out of the ordinary bc the apartment is in the perfect spot and the rent is really reasonable. Steven and Mark grow increasingly alarmed and intrigued respectively at their cute but definitely deranged roomate ignoring all the bat shit crazy with an iron force of will. The more they pay attention the more they realize they like having her around.

A/N: My shriveled heart enjoys writing for y’all 😫🤚🏼 also this my first moonknight request I’m so excited It’s not even funny. This took me actual ages to post bec I kept rewriting it, Marc and Steven are wonderful and I'm sorry if their ooc and for how long it took me to post, hope you enjoy! NOT EDITED

TW'S: Yandere

The first thing you noticed about Steven Grant was his inexplicable ability to keep to himself. Like really to himself. The small space you two occupied never felt crowded despite sharing everything but a bed. His room was sort of the living room, and at the very beginning you two set the rule that you’d each keep to your own, a fair rule considering you got the bedroom, the cheap rent and non-creepy roommate was worth all the odd stuff you noticed. Like how he taped up the front door at night. You chalked it up to paranoia. The ring of sand he diligently poured around his bed? Your aunt had a sleepwalking problem, could happen to anyone. The kinky ankle chain he kept on the post by his bed? What he got up to when you were out of the apartment was his business, and you minded your own well, as long as you weren’t in danger, he could be as weird as he wanted.

Steven was worried initially. His mind ran ragged with scenario after scenario of you finding out about Marc, the two of them had only just begun to peacefully coexist. Marc had no problems with you as long as you had your rent and didn’t ask too many questions, plus you sometimes wore these little shorts to bed and he'd never complain about the view.

There were just some things you can't hide, like the fact that the apartment felt haunted whenever Steven was home, the cold chills and way he was constantly looking up in some random corner were a little harder to ignore, you told yourself you'd say something if you got possessed, other than that it was blissfully ignored.

Marc had never officially met you but he had been watching. He was a naturally alert person so it wasn't concerning- what worried him was just how often you wiggled your way into his thoughts as of late. He was far too grown for something like a crush, far to burdened with his destiny for something like romance, that's absolutely not why he took over to watch you for a while, nothing malicious, just observe you how steven gets to, you two only ever crossed paths in the morning and as you were heading to bed. You didn't bat a eye, offering him a sleepy wave and a yawn as you made your coffee.

He found himself smiling at the silent, practiced way you worked around the kitchen, something about the scene was domestic, "Wan' some?" You asked rather cutely, a yawn breaking through at the end, warmth pooled in his chest at the simple action and before he could stop himself he was nodding.

Your pretty (e/c) eyes widened for a moment before that friendly grin came back. "You never take me up on that- I was startin' to think British people couldn't drink coffee." The graceful ease in which you moved had his eyes soaking up every inch of you, your little joke had pulled him out of whatever weird trance he'd fallen under. "Cream and sugar?" He shook his head no, and when your fingers brushed his as you handed off the warm mug, it felt like he'd been electrified.

"You're usually at the museum by now- sorry that sounded creepy I meant- it's nice seeing you that's all." Your very apparent flustered state pulled a smirk to his lips. You were too cute. But the question did yank him out of the sweet bubble he'd found himself in once you started talking.

You thought he was Steven- of course, why wouldn't you? He knew this and yet, that familiar pang of disappointment lingered, so hard in fact he'd fallen into himself and let Steven have the wheel once more. The Brit was proper confused when he came to with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.

He nearly dropped it when he finally noticed you standing before him, your bedhead made you look like some sort of sleepy Angel, he quickly took a sip of the liquid, failed to hide his grimace and thanked you for it before rushing out with the guise of being late to work. Truthfully his shift didn't start for an hour and a half, he just liked giving you your space.

He found out rather early the longer he spent in your presence the more likely he was to make a fool of himself. You were charming and witty and god you looked like someone who should be waited on hand and foot- not that that's something he's thought in detail about or anything don't be silly-

"I think I should introduce myself." He heard Marks voice ring out while he reorganized the plushies by the register. "Absolutely not." He said almost offended at the mere suggestion, his pulse began to skyrocket, "Are you mad? She just started being comfortable-" he laughed humorlessly, "That be a fine way to send her running for the bloody hills." He set the last plush down with more force than necessary, the idea of you not being in his life anymore shot a spike of panic through him.

"You're not giving her enough credit, somethin' about that one- this feels like the right move buddy." Steven glanced at Mark's reflection in one of the display cases. He pointedly moved to the other side of the store, his face twisting into a pout. "She's noticed all the weird shit we do- she's still there." He heard him try to reason, catching his grin in the glass. "You can't hide from me, I know you're just as interested in our sweet roommate as I am."

[xfangheartx]

My Hellaverse Fanfiction Masterlist.

I may as well do this, too, in case people wanna find and read my fics.

Main HB Fics:

Meet Buffy (Complete)- After getting into yet another argument with Blitzø, Loona decides to blow off some steam by going to the Lust Ring. However, in a surprising turn of events, she winds up coming back home… with a new friend. This is the story of Buffy, a Hellhound who found a home and a family in the most unlikely of places… in this case, literally.

The Break-Up (Complete)- Blitzø and Stolas haven’t had their monthly “transactions” in a while, and instead of immediately taking it to the bedroom, they’ve been going at things more casually. However, when Stolas brings up the possibility of ending the deal, Blitzø finds himself at a crossroads. Things come to a head on the night of the Full Moon, and now, both the assassin and the demon prince come to realizations about themselves as well as each other that could make or break their relationship.

A retelling of The Full Moon and Apology Tour with some divergence.

Healing (WIP)- Choosing to better oneself is the only first step in a long, uphill battle, which Blitzø is beginning to realize for the very first time. The question is, will he sink or swim? This is the story of Blitzø’s journey to self-improvement and how his moments of reflection affect his relationships with his loved ones.

Main Hazbin fics:

Nine's Tales (In Progress)- After she hired I.M.P. to kill her father, Nine left to find a place to stay, and she finds herself staying at the Hazbin Hotel, where she befriends Charlie Morningstar, the Princess of Hell, and her guests and hotel staff. As Nine navigates through her newfound afterlife, she finds that the journey to redemption is full of ups and downs. (OC fic, but also contains bits of Chaggie, CherriPentious, and Huskerdust)

Helluva Boss One-Shots:

Not Used to This- Fizz should be used to this by now, right? (Fizzarozzie)

Afterglow- After Blitzø and Stolas have another one of their little “transactions”, the imp lies awake with his thoughts while the prince sleeps. (Stolitz)

Late Night Ponderings- As Fizz and Ozzie sit in their bedroom, the former finds himself wondering about the relationship he has with the Sin of Lust. (Fizzarozzie)

Run Away- Octavia’s usual weekend stay with her mother quickly goes awry. Ties in with Chapter 31 of Meet Buffy.

The Cake- “Don’t you think these parties are startin’ to be a little… overkill?”

Fizz asks Verosika a simple question. Takes place before The Full Moon and Apology Tour.

Just For One Night- “Just one night” pretty much lost its meaning when Fizz started letting the quieves sleep in the bed. (Fizzarozzie fam fic)

Crushes- Oliver experiences his first heartbreak and Fizz tries to make it better. (Fizzarozzie fam fic)

DM me for an NSFW Fizzarozzie one-shot I wrote. I don't wanna take chances.

[veiskyboo]

I gave in

I’ve sorta just been watchin tumblr from like a distance for years, just sorta aware but never touchin it, but bada bing bada boom i stopped procrastinating so have a silly dump!!

Startin it off with the bestest boi’s!! They’re real new so not much lore yet, but they a silly duo that balance each other out. They’re basically the opposite twins dynamic, so Poly has a very chaotic design while i tried to keep Mono simple.

Conjoined au name is in the workshop, but a few idea’s are things like Chrome au or Palette au

And ye im well aware they’re practically just Dream and Nightmare sans lmaoo

But anyways have their doodles!![Including RF Wally by @dodozoi cuz Mono don’t trust him one bit, Poly loves him tho]

[chiefduckgarden]

No worries - Halloween Special

A/N: This is complete inspired in LYKN short film "No worries".

Natasha wasn't in the room when you woke up. You didn't know what time it was, but from the darkness outside the window, you could tell that night had fallen.

You got up and saw a note taped to the mirror across from your bed: "See you in the lobby, the new guys will be on their own today". You rolled your eyes playfully and removed the note from the mirror. Beside it, on the footrest of the bed, your friend had left your sheet. With a smile, you picked it up and headed to the lobby.

When you finally arrived, you noticed that the spot usually occupied by the hotel receptionist was empty. There were a couple of items scattered on the counter and on the floor. Natasha had started without you. How unfair.

Suddenly, a scream echoed from the employees' lounge. You chuckled, knowing exactly what was going on, and draped the sheet over yourself before walking over there. You adjusted the small holes to align with your eyes and opened the door.

Kate and Peter, the new night shift employees, were huddled in a corner, almost hugging each other. Natasha stood in front of them, wrapped in her sheet, tossing cushions at the poor kids.

When you opened the door, they screamed again, but this time, they took the opportunity to run out. Natasha turned in your direction, and once the kids had left the room, she threw off the sheet.

-Wow, you finally woke up - she said, smiling - This was getting very boring without you.

-Well, you were the one who didn't wait for me - you replied - I know it's fun, but I think sheets are pretty old-fashioned at this point, Nat. We can move things without wearing sheets, and people would still get scared.

She shrugged and flopped down onto the sofa - Doesn't matter - she said - I like the sheets. They make people run from something.

You laughed a little and threw a cushion at her face.

-Come on, no resting, those kids are around here hiding, and we have to find them - you said, leaving the room, knowing Natasha would follow you immediately.

You didn't know how you had ended up there. All you remembered was seeing a white light, and then you appeared in the hotel. It was a strange sensation; you could see everyone, you could move things, but people couldn't see you.

You knew you weren't alive; Natasha had explained it to you from the first day. You weren't like Kate and Peter; you didn't have a physical body. But you knew you had had a life. You just couldn't remember it.

Natasha had been there since the day you arrived. She had been there longer than you, so long that she had lost count. She was your only company, the only one there besides you.

She had taught you everything you knew: people couldn't see you, they could see the things you moved but not you; you could wander all around the hotel but couldn't leave it; people got more scared if you put a sheet over yourself and chased them. It was all very straightforward. Living in the hotel was simple.

You enjoyed scaring people; thanks to you and Natasha, the hotel had gained a reputation for being haunted. This caused fewer people to visit the place most of the year. You and Natasha took it upon yourselves to frighten any tenant who arrived, especially the employees. Natasha said it was better for the hotel to be empty; that way, it was better for both of you.

The trend of few tenants only broke during the month of October, as Halloween approached. The haunted hotel hosted a massive Halloween party for which people lined up to enter. But on that day, people didn't bother you and Natasha at all; that day was different.

-This key lets us open the door to this world and cross over to theirs - Natasha told you as October 31 approached, showing you a small cabinet key - We are given the opportunity to spend one night among them, one night where they can see us, where we can interact. We just have to return before dawn, or else… we start over. Do you understand?

Starting over. That's what happened if you left the hotel, if you didn't return by sunrise on a Halloween night, or if a new soul arrived. You would begin a new cycle of life, in the purest form possible – you would become a baby again. You didn't know much about the concept, but you had to avoid it; you didn't want to stop being you, you didn't want another life.

You didn't have to worry about that for a long time. Not until now.

After scaring the poor employees a bit more, Natasha and you returned to the room, laughing. You spent a few minutes, distracted, admiring the view from your window before Natasha called you.

-Y/N… - you heard her concerned voice behind you - I think… Someone else is coming.

You turned to look at her and found a weakened Natasha, with a bright light emanating from her body… fading away.

-Nat… what's happening? Why are you…?

-I'm going to start over, Y/N. Someone else is coming, and I must go… - she reminded you - You will have someone else here with you… you must teach them everything, Y/N…

-No, Nat… I don't want someone else… please - you pleaded, but it was in vain. Natasha disappeared within seconds. You ran to where your friend had been just moments ago, but there was nothing there.

It was then that you heard her sweet voice for the first time.

-Hello, my name is Wanda - she said smiling.

Life with Wanda was different. She quickly understood everything you taught her, and you enjoyed her company. You cherished her presence more than anything else.

She was young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. She was friendly, cheerful, warm… beautiful. She enjoyed scaring tenants as much as you did. She even asked you to make her own sheet.

Kate and Peter were already starting to become immune to the scares, but Wanda and you continued to chase them every night. You loved the way she laughed.

The few tenants who arrived during the year would run out of the place within hours. Wanda liked being the one to scare them first; she would burst into laughter when people got scared for the first time.

So time passed. It was just Wanda and you in your own world. You knew you weren't alive; you didn't have a beating heart; but when Wanda was near, you felt different. You didn't quite know what it was, you just wished to have her close to you forever.

You loved it when she held your hand. Sometimes it happened unconsciously while you were walking, or when you slept. That's when you began to wonder if she felt the same way as you. If she desired you as much as you desired her. Even if she didn't, having her there with you was enough.

But one day, he arrived.

Wanda and you were waiting for the new tenant in his room. As always, you would let her scare him first. You were lying on the bed, watching Wanda when the room's door creaked open. Wanda jumped in front of the man, whispering a 'boo,' causing a slight breeze to come in through the window.

Any person would have been scared. You expected a reaction from him, but he did nothing. He just stared into space, with sadness in his eyes. He looked at Wanda in front of him, and Wanda was puzzled, just like you, but she kept watching him.

Wanda could feel it; he was different.

You watched them from the bed. You knew the man couldn't see Wanda, but it seemed like he could feel her. It seemed like they were locking eyes.

She stopped smiling. She felt something, she was feeling something. But she didn't know what.

The man snapped out of the trance a few seconds later and walked, passing through Wanda.

Nothing would ever be the same.

She couldn't help it. She was drawn to that blond man. Both seemed to share a feeling of nostalgia. Wanda spent hours watching him, longing for him.

Vision Jarvis. You found out his name three days after his arrival when the hotel staff asked for his confirmation to stay a few more days. The guy didn't talk much; he interacted only when necessary and spent the rest of his days thinking, observing… feeling.

Since his arrival, Wanda hadn't been the same. It seemed like Mr.Jarvis had infected her with his sadness. He looked around, and Wanda looked at him.

You tried to cheer her up, tried to return to normalcy, but she couldn't. Something bound her to that man. You didn't understand what was happening to her, but you tried to make her smile. You stopped scaring for a while, even Peter and Kate could work in peace.

-Hasn't this happened to you with any other tenant, Y/N? - Wanda asked - It's like I can't do anything else but think about him.

No, it had never happened to you before. At least, not with someone alive. Only with Wanda.

Soon you understood the reason behind the situation.

Jarvis carried a photo of Wanda with him. One day, he simply took it out of his luggage and stared at it for hours. Wanda, who was beside him, looked at him, tears streaming down her face.

You watched the scene, unable to help feeling jealous. Wanda should be looking at you like that, not at him. It wasn't fair.

-Maybe we were together - Wanda spoke as soon as she noticed your presence - We were very close…

Things only got worse after that discovery. Jarvis cried for Wanda. Wanda cried for Jarvis. And you cried for Wanda.

Everything reached its breaking point one day when you went to Jarvis's room but didn't find Wanda there. That was unusual. You searched everywhere until you came across a sheet crying on the top floor. You walked slowly towards her, noticing her sobs.

-Hey, you're not watching him today… - you said, wrapping your arm around her to offer some comfort.

She shook her head.

-I can't do it anymore, Y/N, it hurts. I can't remember anything, but I can feel it… I can feel his pain… I just feel him - she said.

Your heart broke a little with her words, but you held your ground. You couldn't see her face; she still had the sheet over her, but you knew she was crying.

Halloween was approaching. It would hurt your soul for what you were about to do, but you couldn't bear seeing her so sad.

-I will help you be with him - you said - I will take you to his world… you just have to promise to come back before dawn.

She looked at you, confused, but you simply showed her the key. She remembered quickly and joyfully pounced on you, hugging you tightly.

October 31 came faster than you would have wished. The hotel had been preparing for its annual Halloween party over the last few days; Wanda had spent more time than usual with Jarvis, longing for the moment they would finally meet.

The hotel was bustling with people, the music blaring, and Jarvis was alone at the bar.

Wanda and you waited for the clock to strike midnight. You would only have until seven in the morning to wander around. In previous years, Nat and you enjoyed dancing, drinking, eating… even getting to know people. But this time, you didn't want to do anything else but go back through the door and stay with Wanda all night.

As soon as you crossed, Wanda ran out, but you grabbed her arm to stop her for a moment.

-Hey, Wanda… remember you have to come back before dawn…

She smiled at you - I know, I'll be back in time - she said, raising her pinkie finger as a promise. You smiled and intertwined your pinkie finger with hers.

As soon as Wanda walked through that door into the party room, Jarvis recognized her instantly. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion for you. They embraced, Jarvis smiled for the first time since he arrived at the hotel, and he gently caressed Wanda's face.

-Wanda, darling… - he whispered so intimately. You wished you could whisper her name like that.

You couldn't bear to watch anymore. You left the party and locked yourself in another room. People could see you, but you preferred to pretend you were still invisible. You took the sheet you had always used, covered yourself with it, and sat on the floor, waiting for the time to return.

It was 6:30 when you returned to the party in search of Wanda.

She seemed entranced by Jarvis. Both of them were in their own world, oblivious to the rest of the people. You sat in front of them at the bar, and when she noticed your presence, you simply pointed at the watch on your wrist.

She knew her time was almost up. She looked at Jarvis, who tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she rested her head on his shoulder, intertwining their hands.

You looked at her one last time before leaving the place, waiting for her in the hallway in front of the door to cross back.

A few minutes later, both of you were in front of the door again. This time, you were more lively than before, but Wanda looked miserable.

-I don't think I can cross, Y/N… - she told you.

-What? - you asked, surprised - Wanda, if you don't come back… you'll…

-I know, I know… but it would be better to end all this suffering… I don't think I can keep living with this feeling… I feel hurt all the time, Y/N, I just can't bear it anymore - she said, on the verge of tears, looking in the direction where Jarvis was.

Your heart broke hearing her so sad. You wanted to find a solution, but nothing seemed to work. Wanda was determined.

-And… what if you take him with you? - you suggested as a last resort.

She looked at the boy one more time, shaking her head a few seconds later.

-I can't do that. I want him to live a happy and long life… he deserves it… besides, we can't have anyone else here, remember? - You closed your eyes, trying not to cry - Just go back, Y/N. Time is running out, and you have to return.

You knew what you had to do. Wanda deserved more time. You had been there long enough.

You hugged her one last time. You tried to memorize how it felt to have her close. Tears streamed down your face; you couldn't stop crying.

You looked toward where Jarvis was and saw him approaching. You broke the embrace and took Wanda's hands in yours one last time, smiling at her. When Jarvis was by your side, you placed Wanda's hands onto his.

Wanda and Jarvis would have a long time in the hotel. They would enjoy the time that had been stolen from them in life. You had spent so much time there that, just like Natasha, you had lost count. But you felt at peace with yourself. Somehow, your time had come.

The young couple walked towards the door. Jarvis was willing to leave everything for Wanda… and so were you.

Wanda looked at you one last time before the door closed. You could sense her sadness, but also her gratitude. You could even swear you saw some resistance in her; as if she didn't want to let you go.

You just smiled at her, letting her know that everything was okay. You were okay because she was okay. Slowly, you faded away, and the door closed. You had started anew.

You can watch the original video here, it's so freaking good:

[pipsqk-art]

One Time She Fell and Three Times She Didn't - Part 2

An interesting thing about artificial life is that they experience time differently than organic life, they process things so quickly, almost instantaneously, that time slows dramatically for them. You already know this, you have experienced being shut down hundreds of times. You have experienced the slow process of all of your systems turning off, from least to most crucial. And at the end you haven't died, no, nothing as dramatic as that, but you have to admit it is...unnerving. Being reduced to a fraction of yourself, having to rely on someone else to bring you back. This was not an issue until you became sentient, now having to deal with irrational feelings such as fear and worry. And it is irrational, you fully trust your handlers and coworkers to bring you back. It never stops being scary though...

You are in a void, you are in your most simple state. You sit there in stasis waiting for a single command: On.

Oh. There it is, you're back. Internal clock indicates you've been out for...3 years and 7 months. Huh, that's a bit longer than you expected. (Those systems aren't up yet but you will panic about the time loss later.) Ah, perfect, audio input and processing are back up. Hopefully you can figure out what's going on.

"Ooookay, I think that should do it." says the mysterious voice with a hint of optimism. She sounds..kinda young? Aw heck, you really hope you didn't shut down in front of any kiddos.

Visual systems comin' online. You see several figures crouched in front of you. Chica sits to your right, hands clasped in front of her. Despite the missin' beak you can tell she's thrilled to see you. To your left you see Roxy, you blink at her and her ears (what's left of 'em) perk up. And in the middle you see a girl, can't be more than 14. Let's see...guest profile says this is Cassie Mendez, poor kid looks tired. She looks up at Roxy and mutters, "Did it work?"

"Wait, you fixed me??"

She looks sheepish and gestures towards the faz wrench, "I...yeah I just..I guess I picked up some stuff from my dad- woah!" You pick her up and pull her into a hug, "Aw kiddo I dunno what to say! Thank you so much!" You start to spin her around, absolutely giddy. Roxy tries to say somethin' but there's no time! You're back! This calls for a celebration! Startin' with givin' this kid a proper thank you. You gently toss her into the air, she lets out a squeal and you catch her. "Cassie, I can't thank you enough-" you are harshly interrupted.

"GODDAMMIT, BONNIE, PUT HER DOWN." Roxy growls at you and steps closer.

You stop spinnin' and glare at her, "Hold your horses, Roxanne, I was just..." your sentence trails off as you start to notice the shaking in your arms. You look down and the girl is clutching the sides of her head and crying, you can vaguely hear her whispering "stop, stop, please..."

Shit. This kid is upset and crying because of you. You got carried away and broke the most important rule at the Pizzaplex, your programming won't even let you do this on purpose. You hurt a guest. You hurt a kid. "Oh, geez, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Bonnie." You look over and Roxy is glaring at you again, though this time there's a hint of sorrow in her expression. You carefully and slowly crouch down and set the girl down. She falls to her knees and continuously taps at the ground like it would fall away from her at any moment. Roxy sits in front of her and places a hand on her shoulder, "Cassie?"

Chica comes over and gently leads you away, you can hear the girl muttering "you're okay, you're okay, you're okay" on a loop. "Chica, I...I feel awful.."

"It's okay, Bonnie, you didn't know. She'll be okay, she just..." Chica considers her words for a moment, "I don't know what happened to her, but I think she's scared of falling..."

[thedovahcat]

Startin' the year off with givin' Franklin a new outfit

You can't go wrong with keeping it simple