#to give an update/good news; and i sort of can’t. because even though i’m going to physio i’m still only seeing slow improvements

[fingertipsmp3]

Realising I haven’t messaged my boss in like 4 weeks and she’ll definitely want an update on if I’m good and tbh is probably wondering if I even still work there at this point

[guiltyasdave]

i can see the end as it begins

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.

word count: ~5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻

a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

“I want a divorce.”

It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.

He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.

And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.

He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.

It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.

He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.

It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.

Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.

But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?

You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.

You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.

If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.

Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.

You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.

“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.

Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.

Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.

“Lots of women you could meet there!”

He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.

He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.

He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.

“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.

“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.

“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.

Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–

“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.

“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.

“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”

She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.

The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.

He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.

The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.

You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.

“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.

“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.

Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.

“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”

You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.

David. Dave. Oh. Oh.

“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.

Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.

The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.

Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.

When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.

David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.

It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.

The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.

No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.

When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.

“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”

Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”

You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.

You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.

“I don’t think you are.”

Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.

“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.

The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.

He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”

You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.

“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.

“Me too,” he rasps.

When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.

“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.

“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”

“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”

His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.

“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.

His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.

“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.

“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.

Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”

You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.

“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.

At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.

“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”

Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.

He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.

“Good.”

He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.

“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.

“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.

With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”

He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”

You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.

The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.

“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”

You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

“Please,” you whine. “Please David, I need you.”

His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.

“Just one time?” he rasps once more.

“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.

He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.

You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.

“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.

“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.

He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.

So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.

“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.

He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.

“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”

He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.

“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.

“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”

Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.

He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”

You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.

You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?

He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.

Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.

Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.

You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.

“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”

He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.

“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.

You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.

When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.

“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”

if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending in an ask – it’s really the thing that keeps writers going :)

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2, part 3

Wayne stays at the hospital longer than he should. Rubbing his fingers along Eddie’s pick necklace like a rosary. Hoping that if he just prays hard enough, if his voice can be heard, Eddie will wake up. 

The prognosis isn’t great. Each day that passes marks another day where his chances of waking up get lower. Even though many people have woken up from medically induced comas much later than this. According to the doctors. According to the pamphlets given to him at the start of all of this shit. But those are just words. Words he doesn’t believe fully. 

Six days with no changes. No improvement. Just a tube to make sure he’s breathing regularly and an IV to make sure he doesn’t die of dehydration or starvation. The doctors say that his brain still shows activity, and his heart hasn’t missed a beat since he was last revived. Eddie’s alive, but just how much?

How much longer will Wayne sit in this agony waiting for him to wake up? Or how long until the string of hope just ends six feet under? 

Religion was something that Wayne dealt with sporadically. He was raised Catholic, sort of still is a practicing Catholic. Goes to church when he isn’t too tired, still prays, and goes to confession sometimes. Just didn’t always make sense. But now, it’s all he’s got. 

Eddie’s in God’s hands now. Whether that’s the God in the Bible, or some other deity of the many other religions in the world, Wayne doesn’t care anymore. As long as he’s heard, and this being knows his boy is good. That he was taken far too soon. 

Eddie liked to say there was nothing much for him past high school. That he was going to run out of town as soon as he could and fight to make something of himself. Be a struggling musician, find odd jobs. Anything to keep him out of the monotony of a corporate job. Get him away from the conservative views and stuffiness of this town. Somehow get big enough to prove them all that he wasn’t a failure. Or never come back to prove them all right. 

It would be a sad day when Eddie finally left for good. The trailer would seem empty without the life that Eddie brought. The peace and quiet that Wayne always asked for not bringing any peace because it was too damn quiet. He knew this now because it’s what’s keeping him here each day. 

The beeping of the heart monitor was like the heart beating in his chest. Some noise came from Eddie to prove that he was alive. Almost like he was acting himself again. The motel room he was staying in was too quiet. No music down the hall, no clanking around the kitchen, no yelling at the TV or a book. Just the occasional noise if there were neighbors and people driving to the hospital. It was all the wrong noise, though. 

“Excuse me,” a nurse says as she enters the room. “Visiting hours are over, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Wayne nods, getting up from his chair. Back screaming as it pops itself back into place. It’s his day off, or night off tonight, so he can actually sleep. If it ever comes to him. Might be one of those nights where the ceiling and him have a staring contest. He’s been close, but never quite won one of those yet. 

The Chief’s car sits outside of the motel as Wayne pulls up. It’s only been a day since they spoke last, there can’t be that many updates. Wayne can’t think of any other reason he’s here. 

Wayne invites him into the motel room, the urge to offer him a drink screaming at him, but he has none to give. Hospitality doesn’t come with the room fees. 

“I’m guessing there’s something new, that’s why you're here.”

“Not necessarily. I’m still trying, but until the one guy I normally negotiate with comes out of hiding, that’s when the real talking happens.”

Wayne sits down on one of the chairs, too tired to keep standing. “Why’re you here then?”

“To check on you. I know the hospital life well. It’s no picnic, especially if you’re doing it alone.” He pulls another one of the chairs over to sit down. 

There’s no lie in that. “I’m about as good as anyone could think.”

The Chief pulls two beers out from under his coat, handing one to Wayne. He takes it faster than any beer he has in his life. Pulling out his pocket knife to take off the cap. 

“How long till that friend of yours comes out of hiding?”

Hopper shrugs. “Don’t know. Sent him a few threatening letters, and he still owes me one, so we’ll see. If things were better here, I’d go hunt the man down myself.”

Wayne nods. The company’s nice, he can’t lie. Sitting in solidarity with someone who knows what you’ve been through. Making sure nothing’s going worse than it already is. Like a sponsor through the hospital proceedings. 

When the sun finally finishes setting, the chief excuses himself. Not before handing Wayne a slip of paper with his number on it, just in case anything happens. 

The more days go by, the more Wayne is reminded that he’s not alone in this. Not fighting this battle alone. People believe him, more than just kids. People with influence. It shows in how people keep coming in and out of the hospital room. Saying how they know he’s innocent. That he’s guilty of some things, but not this. 

It makes him think back to that afternoon, snapping at the Harrington kid. It’s so easy to be angry at people who are better off, in so many ways, that vision gets blinded. Seeing someone who went through something similar to Eddie get out, and be conscious while his boy is still asleep. Probably will never have to worry about hospital bills and medical debt. It makes him angry. 

Even if the kid doesn’t deserve it. Wayne has no clue who this kid is and how he knows Eddie. Why he claims to have been there in the week Eddie was missing. What it all means. It doesn’t make any sense. None at all. 

But then the next morning when he’s getting coffee, there’s the kid again coming in beside Dustin. Talking to someone at the front desk before heading down the hall. Right to the elevator, and up to the floor Eddie’s on. 

Wayne heads back to the room, ready to kick him out again or apologize. He’s not sure yet. But, the room is empty. Steve is instead down the hall, talking to Susan Mayfield. Looking serious as hell, and halfway ready to cry. 

Another kid comes out of the room, one who’s stopped by a few times to check on Eddie. Lucas, Wayne thinks is his name. Remembers it only because Eddie had ranted a few times about some kid named Lucas trying to be on both the basketball team and part of the Dragons club. 

The kid says something to Steve before he’s being wrapped in a hug and starts crying. Steve just holding him as this kid breaks down. Presumably about the person behind those doors. Wayne assumes it’s probably Susan’s kid. Remembers hearing that she was in bad shape. Hopefully, that didn’t get any worse. 

Wayne returns to his room, not wanting to intrude. A nurse comes in a while later and asks him to step out for a bit. 

“What for?”

“Eddie’s breathing has improved over the last twenty-four hours. The doctor came in to check on him early this morning, and said that if by noon it was the same, the breathing tube could come out.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Wayne’s hesitant to believe anything these days. 

The nurse nods. “As long as his oxygen levels stay, well level, then yes. It means that his body is well on the way to recovery.”

Wayne nods, taking his coffee to the waiting room. There, he just waits.

Next part

Note: The next part of this will get a bit interesting. I've been having ideas for a while now of making this duel POV between Wayne and someone else, maybe Steve. Mainly because I keep thinking of conversations that would happen, but Wayne would be nowhere to witness it. But I think what this fic needs is a POV not directly in the main relationship that will be happening, to keep it an outsider POV fic. So I'm thinking that the second POV would be from either Robin or Dustin. I'm currently deciding between the two so let me know what you think. I'm also going to start posting this to ao3, and will provide the link to that once I think of a title. I will continue to post the smaller parts here on tumblr, and you will not be missing out on any of the story if you only follow it on here. For now all of the parts will also have the tag #morgan's wayne POV. If that changes, as it probably will since this is no longer just a wayne POV fic, I will let you know. Also, Max is alive, they just got a heavy diagnosis that you will learn of later.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Fight Club

Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader (with platonic Frank Castle x Reader)

Summary: @hellskitchenswhore is killing it with the prompts lately. Per her request: Matt's freaking out thinking you might be cheating on him because for the last few weeks, you’ve been coming home smelling like Frank. What he doesn’t know is that you asked Frank to teach you how to fight and didn’t tell Matt.

Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering, P in V, Creampie, and Possessiveness from our dear Matt. Sort of getting caught after the fact.

Notes: I started taking kickboxing like three weeks ago, so I like to pretend that qualifies me to know what I'm talking about (It doesn't lol). So apologizes if I got any of the terminology wrong. UPDATE DEC 2023: I wrote an alternate ending to this fic that ends in a threeway with Frank that you can read here

WC: 5,000

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you. 

You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.

“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag

“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”

“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”

“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”

It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.

Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.

Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice. 

You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)

In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym

“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”

“Why don’t you just ask Red?”

“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”

“Okay, can I ask why not?”

“You can but I’m not gonna answer.” 

Frank chuckled and shook his head

“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”

“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”

“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”

“And you’d do that for me?”

“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”

“9:00”

“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”

And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.

“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again

“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest

“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”

“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure. See you then.”

By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.

‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.

You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back. 

“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep

“Morning sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine

“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”

“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”

“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires

His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.

“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.” 

All truths.

“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go

Perfect.

As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.

Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder? 

‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.

But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar. 

It takes another week for him to ask you about it.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner 

“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply

“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”

“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague

“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”

“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.” 

Also technically the truth.

“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”

‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.

Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.

Frank.

“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks

“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level

“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments

“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”

“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”

And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?

After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.

He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit. 

You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day. 

Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.

The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night. 

Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt. 

You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes. 

“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders. 

“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”

“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”

You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”

The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.

When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck. 

‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself. 

But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him. 

Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank. 

But how could you smell like… 

And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot. 

You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home. 

Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do. 

Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?

The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake. 

You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first. 

“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”

“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds

That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy. 

Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.

“Matt. What’s up?”

“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response. 

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”

“So did you ask her?”

“Well no but…” 

“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”

And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated. 

Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.  

Matt still hadn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little did you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym. 

“Hey Frank” you call out as you enter

“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms

Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside. 

You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room. 

“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”

“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”

Matt knew it. He fucking knew it. 

“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”

“No, I don’t”

“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”

“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”

Matt’s heart drops. 

How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him.  But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was. 

“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days I’m sure you could give Red a run for his money.” 

“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll

Matt listens for the next hour as Frank talks you through a few hitting drills, then the two of you sparring. Frank is clearly taking it easy on you, but Matt is still impressed by what he could tell of what you were doing. He absolutely would need to take you on to really gauge your skills. 

Franks's phone rings out just as you’re cooling down with some stretches. 

He answers and speaks for a few minutes. 

“Alright sorry to jet out of here but Madani has somethin urgent for me. You good to get home alright?”

“Yeah, thanks Frank. See you tomorrow.”

Frank gives you a fist bump and then disappears through the front door. Matt uses the opportunity to sneak in just before the door slams closed behind Frank. 

You’re sitting on the floor undoing your wraps as he finally speaks up. 

“If you wanted to opportunity to hit Frank, I’m sure I could have arranged it some other way”

Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you. 

“Matt… I” you stumble to explain. 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask

“What are you doing here?” You ask, ready for him to chew you out for your little secret. 

“Alright if I’m honest, do you promise you’ll be honest?” He asks

“Yes.”

“I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.” He confesses with a sigh

“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”

“I know. Been listening all night so I know. But I have to know why. Why are you doing this and why didn’t you tell me? And Frank? Really?”

“It’s a long story. Can I tell you while we walk home?”

And so you do. By the time you make it home to your apartment, you’ve come clean about the incident at work and running into Frank and how he’d been coaching you the last few weeks, and why you were so hesitant to ask Matt to be the one to do it.

Matt is oddly quiet through your explanation but nods as you speak. He finally speaks up just as you’re unlocking the front door. 

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t ask me. But now that I know, I am curious…”

“You want to see how much I’ve learned?”

He nods enthusiastically 

“Fine. I guess since now you know you can join us tomorrow. If you want.”

“Perfect, I’ll be there”

He tucks you in to bed with a gentle kiss before heading out on patrol again, no longer clouded by doubts about your relationship. 

—

When you arrive at the gym the next night, Matt is already there, looking extra adorable in his gray sweatpants and messy hair. 

It’s all so familiar to him - the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the smell of sweat and heat, the gym mat sticking beneath his bare feet with every step. Just like Fogwells when he was a kid. He feels at home here.

“Hey sweetheart” he greets you with a kiss

“Hey Matty” you can’t help but smile whenever you see him after a long day “Frank texted me, he’s running late, but um do you want to help me warm up?”

Matt’s face lights up with excitement. “Yes. Okay. What does Frank normally have you do?”

“Two rounds of jab crosses on the bag. Three minutes each.”

“Okay, have at it”

You wrap your hands and begin hitting the bag. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.

“Woah woah woah. Frank has been letting you hit like this and not correcting your form?”

“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with my form?”

“You’re too far away from the bag. I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”

Matt moves behind you to help you correct your position, then lets you take a few more punches.

“See? More power, less effort.”

“Yeah. Any other pointers?”

Matt places his hands on your shoulders and places his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. You never thought of boxing as particularly erotic, especially not with Frank teaching you. But with Matt’s breath against your ear, you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core.

“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”

“Matt…” the words die on your lips. You want to speak up and defend how kind Frank has been these past few weeks to spend the time to teach you, but Matt’s sweet whisper of encouragement has you forgetting anything else but him.

“C’mon sweetheart, don’t get all shy on me. You hesitate like this for Frank?”

“N..no.” you stutter, then weakly throw out a few more punches

Matt chuckles, knowing just how much he’s winding you up with so little. 

“Put a little more power behind them. Don’t let me being here hold you back.”

You try to do as he says and throw some real hits, but Matt is still pressed right against you.

God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few minutes of warming up you’ve done. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.

His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear.

“You’ve been working hard. Maybe Frank does know what he’s doing.”

He places a second kiss a little lower down your neck.

“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks

“A few. Landed some of them too.”

A third, fourth, and fifth kiss down your neck, working his way toward your shoulder. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.

“Mmm that’s my girl.” he says, as he begins sucking on your neck, his right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings.

“Matty” you chastise

“What?” he feigns ignorance

“Matthew. Do not start something you can’t finish. Frank will be here any minute.”

“You said he’d be late.”

“His text said ‘a few minutes’ and that was already several minutes ago.”

“Well I can’t hear his heartbeat yet, so we’ve got at least five.”

You want to protest more, you really do, but you just can’t resist Matt. 

Laughing low, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his steady breath against your exposed skin a stark contrast to the growing labor of your exhales. You spread your legs a little wider. He takes the invitation and reaches his hand fully into your leggings, using a finger to circle your sensitive bud.

You throw your head back onto his chest with a moan, his name falling from your lips in a breathy whisper.

He continues to suck on your neck as works at your core, finally sliding a finger inside you, then another.

You reach forward to grab the boxing bag for stability, Matt’s touch causing you to writhe enough that you’re not sure you’re able to stay standing without it. As you thrash against him, he inhales deeply, a mix of your natural scent and your arousal consuming his lungs. 

In order to get you exactly where he wants you, he keeps a quick pace, knowing he does not have a lot of time. His rhythm never falters, stroking you over and over in that perfect spongy spot inside you. It’s not long before you're coming apart with a cry of his name.

Just as your head stops spinning and you’re returning to earth, Matt is turning you around and connecting his lips with yours. So hungry to have you, he guides you back a few steps, never breaking his lips from yours, and pushes you against the wall behind you.

His kisses grow more and more desperate, sending an electric tingle down your spine, though that could also be because the wall behind you is made of mirrors and the glass is cool against the heated skin not protected by your sports bra.

As soon as you make contact with the wall, his hands are back on your hips, pushing your leggings and panties down in a heap on the sticky mat beneath you. His clothes soon follow.

You throw your leg up and around his hip, opening yourself to him. An offer he quickly accepts. A soft gasp simultaneously escapes both your lips, the relief between the two of you as he guides himself slowly into your wet and eager core until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Restless fingers reach down to wrap your other leg around him, now fully holding you in the air against the mirrored wall behind you. 

He repeats the pace of his fingers only moments ago and slams into you harshly and quickly, over and over again, desperate to feel you release around him again, knowing Frank could appear at any moment. 

God, your familiar warm heat is absolute perfection, he thinks as he continues to bury himself into you over and over again. You’re still incredibly worked up from your previous climax and it takes just a few thrusts for you to be close again. The way your body is clamping around him and tensing lets him know just how close to ecstasy you are again.

Matt leans forward and you can feel his quickening breath against your ear once more.

“Damnit sweetheart, you scared me so bad. Made me think I was sharing you with someone else.” he grunts as he continues to drive his hips against yours.

“No Matty. I’m yours. Only yours — oh God. I promise.” you whimper back, arching into him further.

“Good. But to make sure you don’t forget, I’m gonna cum inside you, right now and every single night before you leave. So I’m dripping out of you after every hit, every kick. No matter how much Frank trains you. So you remember exactly who. You. Belong to.” he growls lowly against your skin, pushing you even more firmly against the cool glass with every thrust.

“Yes. Please Matt — Fuck. I’m all yours. I promise. Please.”

He thrusts one more time before he cums with a rumble of your name, his arms tightening around you, holding you impossibly close as he releases inside you just as he promised.

As he grinds against you in just the right way to hit that perfect spot one more time, your own orgasm sweeps over you. Your nails dig into his back, holding on to him as you let go, his harsh thrusts now slowed just enough so he can keep the both of you upright.

He feels you release, causing a final low groan from him, slowing down his pace, as your molten pleasure fades away. Still consumed by him and the feel of him holding you close, you lean your head back to rest against the mirror behind you as you catch your breath. Just as you feel like fully slumping against him, he sets you down gently.

You don't even really register him pulling away from you until he speaks. 

“Might want to put your pants back on. Frank’s a block away and I don’t think you want him to know how I warmed you up before he got here.”

You open your eyes and see that Matt is already dressed, a smirk painted across his face as he listens to you scramble to put your clothes on.

Just as you’re adjusting your leggings back in to place, Frank and his large frame enter the gym.

“Hey –” he pauses at the sight of you and Matt in front of him, both sweaty and still panting a little.

“Hmmm. Guess Red knows now.” Frank grumbles

But then his eyes go wide.

“You wanna tell me what that’s about?” he asks with a point of his finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you turn behind you to see what he’s asking about. The mirror is covered in smudges that look vaguely like the outline shape of your body.

“We don’t talk about what happens at fight club…” Matt jokes as you bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.

My Masterlist

[kaminocasey]

We Were Golden Part 5

Summary: You get to Cut and Suu's. Tension between you and Hunter starts to rise.

Pairing: Ex!Crosshair x Reader / (Eventual?) Hunter x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut in a dream (oral f receiving), angst

WC: 4.2K

A/N: Wow, it's been a hot minute since I've updated and I'm so sorry. That season 3 trailer really put my ass in gear, huh? Lol.

We Were Golden Masterlist │ TAGLIST FORM

(pictures from Pinterest)

“Fuck, you’re so pretty…” Crosshair groans softly in your ear as he teases your clit with his slender fingers, with you pushed up against the fresher sink.

Letting out a soft whimper, you catch his lips in a passionate kiss, needing more of him. 

You and Crosshair have been together for three months and within those three months, there hadn’t been a day that the two of you hadn’t found yourselves like this in the fresher, locked away, enjoying each other. In the midst of war and battles, all you could do was cling to these little moments. 

He drops to his knees, latching his perfect lips to your cunt, determined to make you cum harder than the night before and the night before that and so on. 

“Cross-” You gasp, gripping his silver hair tightly, desperately.

“That’s it, Princess.” He praises you, slipping a long, slender finger into you. “Want you to cum on my face just like this.” 

You wake up with tears in your eyes, sitting up to wipe them with your sleeve. When you look up, you find Hunter sitting in his bunk across from yours, watching you. The look on his face is of concern but he’s clearly trying to give you space. 

“You… okay?” He asks you, but you shrug with a sniffle. “You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head. “Not really.” 

What was there to say? 

You left Crosshair back on Kamino… you’re a terrible partner… how could you live with yourself? He would’ve never done that to you. Right?

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Hunter murmurs across to you, softly. 

He’s always been able to read your mind and usually, it’s endearing. But right now, you’re still slightly resentful of him, even though you really don’t want to be.

“No, I suppose not…” You stare at him.

But he reads your mind again. Your eyes still say It’s yours. Even though you don’t really believe that. 

“I know…” He nods. “I’m sorry…” 

“I know you are.” You sigh. “It’s just… hard.” 

He puts his feet down on the ground and leans forward to you, his forearms resting on his thighs.

“We’re going to get him back, okay? I just had to get the kid out of there.” Hunter murmurs, glancing down the hall at Omega, who’s asleep against Gonky. 

“I get it…” You sit up, your legs resting against his as you lean on your forearms as well. “I really do…”

The two of you are closer now, looking at each other. It’s almost comforting, after sleeping in the empty bunk, missing Crosshair’s presence. But then, you’re hit with the memory that he shot at his own brothers… tried to stop you from getting to safety. This new him… what if it’s permanent?

“I just…” You look down at your hands, clasping them together. “I miss him… and it’s weird… because that person we left behind… was not Crosshair. And I keep thinking… what if we can’t get him back to normal?” 

“We’ll figure it out if it comes to that.” He pats your hand and you place your other hand over his, nodding. “I think Crosshair was sort of right… Maybe I’ve been making bad calls-”

“Stop.” You squeeze his hand, catching his eye so that he looks at you. “You’re doing what you think is best for this squad. I told you a long time ago that I would follow you to the ends of the galaxy, Hunter. You’re a good leader. A great one. And there’s no one else I’d rather follow.”

You don’t miss the way he glances at your lips, but you choose to ignore it. 

“Would you really follow me to the ends of the galaxy?” He smiles, softly.

You roll your eyes, smirking, bumping your knee against his. “You know I would.” 

You hear Echo clearing his throat in the doorway and as you look up at him, you and Hunter separate as if you’ve been caught in some compromising position. 

“What is it?” Hunter asks, standing up. 

“Should I move the kid?” He looks down at Omega behind him. 

“I’ve got her.” Hunter steps over Wrecker’s leg and scoops her up, carrying her to his bunk and laying her down gently.

You ignore the tug in your chest at the gentle action and lean against the wall, crossing your arms.

Hunter steps back into the doorway, looking down at her, chuckling. “It’s a first, isn’t it?” 

“Inspecting every corner of the ship finally tired her out.” Echo smirks. 

“Yeah, she’s curious. I’ll give her that.” Hunter glances at you again.

“Hunter, she’s a child. What are we going to do with her?” Echo whispers with a sigh.

You’d all been through a lot over the last 24 hours, but you can’t help the attachment you’ve already formed with Omega. She deserves better than what she was given on Kamino. You could all give her that… But also, you know that this life that you and the Batch have is incredibly dangerous for a child. Obviously, she needs someone and she’s very clearly already attached to you guys as well. Especially Hunter. 

Hunter looks to you as if you could have all the answers but you just give him an encouraging smile, knowing he’ll make the right decision.

“We are coming up on Saleucami.” Tech announces.

Hunter joins Tech up in the cockpit, leaving you and Echo in the bunk room doorway. Echo gives you a strange look and you raise your eyebrows.

“What?” You ask.

He shrugs, glancing at Hunter, knowing Hunter can hear. You’re sure he’ll bring it up later when you land. 

“You wanna wake her up or you want me to?” Echo asks. 

“I’ve got her.” You start toward Omega but she’s already sitting up, rubbing her eyes.

“Are we there already?” She asks and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah we are.” You reply.

She immediately bounces up, ready at the hatch, but Hunter pulls her back.

“Whenever we land, I go first, so I can make sure it’s safe, alright?” He asks her, softly.

She nods up at him, her eyes already filled with wonder, as Tech lands the Marauder. Hunter still hasn’t told you who’s on Saleucami that they know, so you’re a little anxious, even though you trust him fully. 

Hunter hits the hatch button and it comes down, the steps ascending with it. He walks down the hatch first with Echo behind him, and then Tech, Wrecker, and you. Omega is the last to exit the ship and when you turn around to tell her to follow close with you, you find her shielding her eyes from the sunlight, clearly having never been used to such light before on Kamino. When she gets used to the light, you watch the wonder fill her eyes once again and your chest tightens.

“Huh? What’s with her?” Wrecker asks, confused.

All of the guys turn to look and watch Omega inhale the fresh air and then step on dirt for the very first time. You just can’t help but smile as she kneels down to the ground to sift it through her fingers. 

“Woah.” Omega looks at it falling from her hand, with wonder. “What is this?”

“That would be dirt.” Tech speaks up and you grin. 

You’ve wondered a few times what it would be like to have kids. Though, you were never fully sure if you wanted them. But looking at Omega experiencing things for the first time, brings you to a realization that maybe one day… it wouldn’t be so bad. 

You and Crosshair had talked about your futures many times, but never about children. Would he ever want them? 

What about Hunter? 

Wow. Where did that come from? You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your head as you look around you. 

Omega lets out a soft gasp. “It’s amazing.”

When she stands up, she giggles and kicks it around a little bit, sending it up into the air around her. You and Hunter smile at each other before looking back down at her as she joins the group. 

You notice Hunter quickly glance up at the sky when some thunder rumbles. 

“Come on. Let’s get moving.” He nods toward some fields. 

As you start walking through the fields, you keep a safe eye on Omega as she finds wonder in every stalk and plant and insect. Her curiosity is a breath of fresh air, honestly. 

When you glance forward, you find Hunter’s eyes on you and you go warm in the face and look up at the sky. Things were so easy a couple days ago. Now everything is so turned around and different. You’re supposed to be able to handle the biggest changes. To adapt. To survive. 

You hear Echo call your name and tell you to watch out. But due to your mind being elsewhere, you don’t comprehend what he’s saying in time and step into an unfortunately deep mud puddle.

“Karking hell…” You groan as you find yourself waist deep in the puddle, which just turns out to actually be a hole in the ground.

Echo and Wrecker immediately burst into laughter. You start to throw an obscene gesture at them but then remember the kid and just settle for a glare instead. With a grumble, you reach for your pack and toss it to Hunter who sets it to the side and starts to reach for your hand. You ignore it and instead crawl your way out. Wrecker ignores your protests and helps you to stand. 

Tech scans you with his data pad. “Nothing seems to be hurt or bruised.”

“Just her ego.” Echo teases.

That time you do throw up your finger, walking ahead of the group, despite not being entirely sure where you’re going. You can practically feel Hunter’s gaze on you now. 

“Anyway, this friend of yours, what’s he doing all the way out here?” Echo asks.

“Hiding. That’s what deserters do.” Tech informs him.

A deserter? 

“Staying off the radar’s not our specialty, but he’s been doing it for years.” Hunter speaks up.

“And you trust a deserter?” Echo seems unsure.

He’s always been a loyal soldier to the Republic. Of course he’d be wary of a deserter. But before you can point out that you’re all technically deserters now, Tech speaks up.

“Why not? We’re all deserters now.” Tech says what’s on your mind and you nod in agreement. 

Hunter speeds up a little bit in front of you, putting up his fist for you all to stop, just as you’re about to point out the trip wire. He even stops Omega as she was about to keep walking. 

“What are we looking at?” Omega looks up at him.

“A booby trap.” Hunter informs her, but Wrecker steps over it.

“Single trip wire.” He chuckles. “That’s cute.”

Just as he says that, he triggers a second trap sending a circle of battle droids pointing guns at Wrecker flying up around him. You quickly pull Omega behind you, like it’s already a reflex to protect her.

“WOAH!” Wrecker lets out a yell and quickly pulls his blaster off his back and shoots down the droids. 

“Easy, Wrecker!” Hunter shouts, trying to get the giant to settle down just as you realize the droids aren’t active.

Thank the Maker. 

“W-was that me?” He asks, confused.

Before anyone can say anything else, you all hear a female voice and then turn to look toward it. 

“What do we have here? More clones who have lost their way.” A pink Twi’lek woman and a man with her are pointing a rifle at your group. 

“It’s been a while fellas.” The man puts his gun down.

You quickly realize the man is a clone and you look to Hunter for some sort of an explanation. How do they know these two people?

“You look like you could use a shower.” The woman smiles at you, eyeing the dried mud.

“Yeah, you got a hole in your field out that way.” You tell them, back behind you.

“Sorry about that, I’ve been meaning to fill it in.” The man tells you as you start walking toward their house. 

When they let you inside, the guys all gather around the table and Hunter starts to introduce you while Omega starts to check everything out. You don’t blame her one bit. This small house has to be intriguing to someone who’s spent their entire life in a Kaminoan facility. This place, which is full of life and warmth, is basically the complete opposite of Kamino. 

“I see a few new faces.” The woman says after getting everyone a drink.

Hunter introduces you, Echo, and Omega and then the two hosts as Cut and Suu. Omega waves up at Suu, politely, and Suu waves back. 

“Pleased to meet you.” She tells you all.

“Ma’am.” Echo nods, politely, and you can’t help but smile. 

When you met Echo back in the 501st, he was quite smooth with the ladies. Since his incident, he’s been more refined and not as outgoing. It was also really hard on him when he learned about his twin, Fives, who was basically joined at his hip. They did everything together. And that included going out and finding women together. They were something, that’s for sure.

Cut looks up suddenly. “Where’s Crosshair?”

The guys all look at you and you get a soft pang in your chest. You and Hunter make eye contact for the first time since before you fell in that mud hole and he sighs. 

“It’s complicated.” Hunter tells Cut, pulling his gaze away from you. 

“Sounds familiar.” Cut smiles, obviously noticing the look between you and Hunter. “Rex told us about the clone troopers turning against the Jedi.” 

Rex?

“You talked to Rex? When?” Echo asks, more eagerly.

Your brain goes back to the 501st. You could never imagine them killing Anakin Skywalker nor his former padawan Ahsoka Tano. Last you’d heard some of the 501st branched off to help her and a group of Mandalorians. You know that yours and Echo’s brains must be on the same wavelength because you both share a look of concern. 

Rex would never hurt either of them. Right?

“Well, he passed through yesterday.” Cut tells Echo.

“Where’d he go?” Echo asks.

“Didn’t ask.” Cut shrugs. “He was going on about some behavioral implant.”

Omega joins the table, next to Hunter. “He must mean the inhibitor chip.”

“The what?” Hunter asks her.

“Inhibitor chips. The Kaminoans implanted them in the clones to modify their behavior.” She tells him. 

You look at all of the guys, confused. Inhibitor chips. So that means if that’s what’s making Crosshair act this way, it can be removed… right?

“Tech, you said the regs were programmed but you never mentioned a chip.” Hunter looks over at Tech.

“How else did you think it worked?” Tech looks up from his data pad.

Suddenly, the front door bursts open and two small children come running in. 

“Mom! Dad!” They yell. “There’s a ship outside!” 

“Shaeeah, Jek!” Wrecker yells, excitedly. “Remember me?”

They both yell “Uncle Wrecker!” as Wrecker scoops them up in a hug. It warms your heart how good Wrecker is with kids. You suppose it’s probably got something to do with the fact that he can be like a big kid himself sometimes. But the fact that they’re calling him “uncle Wrecker” means that they all know these people well. 

The girl, Shaeeah, turns toward Omega. “Who are you?”

Omega suddenly gets shy, peering out from behind Hunter’s chair. 

“Omega.” She tells them. 

“We never see kids around here.” Shaeeah informs her, grabbing her hand. “Come with us.”

The kids start ushering Omega toward the door and Omega looks back at Hunter, as if for reassurance that it’s alright. Hunter gives her the softest smile and a nod to let her know that it’s okay. With that, they drag Omega out to go play and Suu turns toward you.

“I suppose you would like that shower now.” She smiles.

“That would be great.” You smile, gratefully, taking your pack with you.

She grabs you an extra pair of clothes that she said she’d had lying around for a long time and didn’t need anymore and you thank her again as she shows you to the fresher. 

You shred your muddy clothing and hop in the shower, immediately appreciating the warm water. You let it run over your body for a moment before starting to scrub. 

Once the grime is off of you and your hair is clean, you feel instantly better. You get out of the shower, wrapping the towel around you. You put your shampoo and body wash back into your pack kit and pull out your brush, wiping the fog on the mirror down with the towel and then hanging it over the bar on the wall. 

You turn around and look in the mirror, seeing yourself for the first time since throwing up in the fresher back in the barracks on Kamino. You feel like you look different. Maybe it's because you aren’t necessarily who you were the other day anymore. So much has happened in such a small time frame, that would surely change anyone. 

You put the clothes that Suu gave you on, and notice it feels a bit snug. She’s obviously a bit smaller than you. Whatever. If you get uncomfortable, you’ll just borrow from one of the guys. 

As you walk out of the fresher, you see Hunter and Cut by the door. Hunter is in civilian clothing that Cut must have given him. You both just stand there and stare at each other because wow, he looks good with his arms showing. It’s not a sight that many get to see all that often due to the black bodysuits that GAR keep the clones in underneath their armor, and also because of said armor. 

Hunter’s eyes sweep down your body, taking in your form and he has to physically tear his eyes away from you by looking at Cut, who’s of course giving him a knowing look.

“We’re uh… heading into town. To book Cut, Suu, and the kids a shuttle offworld.” He tells you.

You nod. “Alright. Be safe.” 

He smiles, softly. “We will.” 

When they leave, you notice Suu’s eyes on you.

“Uh hi.” You clear your throat, sticking your pack with the rest of the Batch’s. 

“Are you two-?” She smirks as she takes your clothes and throws them in a washer tub.

“Ha. No, absolutely not.” You wave her off and go sit on the couch. 

She joins you on the couch, resting her arm on the back of it, grinning at you. “But you want to.” 

You shake your head, glancing over at the guys who aren’t even paying attention to you. Echo’s keeping an eye on Omega in the doorway. Tech’s nose is buried in his data pad and Wrecker is passed out in the recliner, mouth gaping open and snoring. 

“No. It’s not like that.” You shake your head. “I’m with or… was with… Crosshair.” 

“Oh…” She murmurs. “I apologize. I just saw the way that you two…”

You shrug your shoulders. “Hunter’s my best friend. We look out for each other.” 

“And what happened to Crosshair?” She asks.

That pang in your chest is starting to become familiar and you really don’t care much for it. You realize though that she’s probably asking because she knows him and is genuinely curious. 

“He chose this new… “Empire”. Or I suppose the inhibitor chip did…” You murmur, looking at the rug on the floor. 

“And you still love him.”

“Of course.” 

There’s no question. He may have broken up with you, but you’re still always going to love him. 

“But you have feelings for Hunter.”

It’s not a question that she’s asking. She’s telling you she sees right through your shit. But she’s not being rude about it. You don’t know what to say because what you and Hunter have is something too complicated, yet also easy. 

Complicated for others, easy to the two of you.

You’re sitting in the barracks by the window, watching the ocean rage on angrily, your knees drawn up and your chin resting on them. As always, you’ve never once seen a calm Kaminoan Sea.

You hear the doors slide open and shut and you assume it’s Crosshair come to apologize about your fight you had. Which have been becoming more frequent. And desperate to follow Hunter’s rules about it not affecting the group, you went out for some alone time on the Marauder and Crosshair got offended. 

Which is not only stupid, but also hypocritical because the man loves his alone time, which you’d pointed out and it only escalated things, making him storm out of the Marauder. 

“Hey.” Hunter’s voice is suddenly next to you as he sits in the window with you, but leaning his back on the window.

“Hey.” You look at him.

“Crosshair mentioned you’d had an… argument?” He raises an eyebrow.

You shrug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offers.

“What, are you trying to be my therapist?” You quip. 

He chuckles. “Just a friend.”

And that’s what Hunter became. Your best friend. 

After a while, Hunter and Cut finally return and Echo nods for Hunter to follow him outside. Which seems strange to you. Normally Echo isn’t usually shy about saying what’s on his mind in front of people. 

Unfortunately, your curiosity quickly gets the best of you and you decide to follow them once you think they’re far enough away. You watch as they head into the barn and quietly make your way that way so you can at least hear what they’re talking about. Being out of the know doesn’t sit well with you, that’s how you justify it being alright that you’re about to eavesdrop.

“I heard her talking to Suu… even Suu could practically see right through the two of you.” Echo tells Hunter as you lean up against the hale bay by the barn doors.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look… I’m not saying don’t pursue her… But… give her time to get over Crosshair. We can’t afford any fuck ups right now. If you’re both not focusing-”

Hunter sighs and you can already tell he’s rubbing his hands down his face in exasperation. “I am giving her time, Echo. I’m giving her space. Hell, I’d even give her the entire galaxy if she asked for it. Since when are you so nosy?”

Your chest tightens at Hunter’s serious tone when he says that last part. 

“Since I heard the hurt in her voice, and saw it in her eyes when they brought up Crosshair.” 

Hunter’s apparently not the only one who can read you like a book. But Echo’s right. You need time. It’s not like you can just move on from Crosshair in a day. You spent every single day together for a year.  

“You think I didn’t?” Hunter snips.

Deciding you can’t handle anymore talk about Crosshair, you start to head back to the house but end up tripping over a smaller hale bay, cursing automatically as you fall to the ground. You try to yank yourself up quickly, but are met with two confused clones, staring down at you.

“Uh, hey. Looking for Omega.” You cough. 

Echo snorts and holds out his hand to help you up. “Right.”

You take his hand and Hunter rights you, holding a hand on your shoulder.

“You two should talk.” Echo lets go of your hand and shoots Hunter a look and walks off.

Hunter guides you down to the hay bale, sitting on it next to you, watching Omega as she plays with Shaeeah and Jek. You sit like that in comfortable silence for a little bit. And for a moment, it feels normal again.

“Echo’s right. We should talk.” Hunter murmurs.

“I hate when he’s right.” You sigh. 

He lets out a chuckle and then looks at you. His eyes briefly fall to your lips before settling on your eyes. 

After a moment, he gets back up and starts to pace a little bit. It’s clear that he’s anxious about whatever conversation has to be had between the two of you. He finally stops to look down at you and then looks at the barn and goes into it, knowing you’ll follow him. Because that’s what you and Hunter do, apparently. 

You could ask for the galaxy and he would give it to you, and you would follow him to the ends of it. 

What does that mean?

He turns to look at you, leaning forward on the table. You stand across from him, crossing your arms. 

“Just talk to me, Hunter.” You murmur, softly. “Please…” 

He opens his mouth to speak but Tech’s voice falls over Hunter’s comm requesting both of your presences back at the house. Hunter lets out an annoyed grunt.

“On our way.” Hunter pulls the comm up and talks into it, never breaking eye contact with you.

Whatever the conversation was, it’ll have to be put on hold for now. Which, judging from the way that Hunter’s looking at you, is probably for the best.

TAGS: @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley 

[soapyghostie]

Omg wait this is so random but I’m England it’s quite common to call someone ‘sausage’ as a term of endearment and I can’t stop thinking about going up to Danny Johnson or Michael Myres and saying ‘hi sausage :)’ or something like ajsidiej it’s so funny to me because I highly doubt they understand what it means lmao

I remember when I first saw this request and I cracked up laughing. This is a good one. Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but I hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

Even though he’s like a 37 year old man, I’m telling you, Danny knows his slang. Not just generational slang, but slang that is used in all sorts of different countries; so believe me when I tell you that he knows what “Hi Sausage” means. Literally, if you asked him if he speaks any other language other than English, he’d say “I’m fluent in slang.” Danny is a man child and you can’t tell me otherwise.

When you greet him with “Hi Sausage” for the first time, Danny cracks up laughing. Yeah, he knows you're just greeting him in a playful, friendly way, but still. He can’t help it. Just the way you say it has him bursting out laughing. He’s literally crying. Once he calms down, he’ll wipe the tears and take some deep breaths; however, when he tries to greet you back, he ends up thinking about you saying “Hi Sausage” and he bursts out laughing again. 

Don’t be surprised if he calls you pet names or gives you some of his slang from his slang-abase back. He knows so much slang that he can make coherent sentences with just slang itself: Danny could, one day, invent an actual new language it. Seriously! I told you his second language was slang. You’d be like “Hi Sausage” and Danny would reply “Suh sweetheart! How are ya going? I see you got the drip on. It’s pretty lit.” Yeah… something along those lines… 

I hope you know more than just “Hi Sausage” because he’ll challenge you to a slang contest. I have never played Danny’s slang contest, but it’s basically just you making sentences with only slang and you can mix match slang too. You lose if you have even one word in your sentence that isn’t some sort of slang. It’s actually pretty funny: it gets you and Danny laughing. However, Danny always wins. No surprise there.

Michael Myers

Did you just call him a sausage?! Michael is offended… He doesn’t know why you called him a sausage; does he look like breakfast food? Yeah… Michael does not understand at all. Also, did I mention how offended he was? He doesn’t understand slang. He’s been locked away in an asylum for most of his life so how could he get the latest update on how kids these days say stuff? 

You’ll have to explain to him what you really meant: after he calms down. He was pretty mad that you called him a breakfast food. Even then, he still doesn’t understand even after you explained it to him. How is calling someone a sausage a friendly greeting? Can’t you greet him like a normal human-being? Meaning exclude the sausage part. 

Nonetheless, you still greet him with “Hi Sausage” all the time. Michael thinks you say it on purpose to annoy him because you know it irritates him when you say it. Though it is fun to annoy him, he did find out you greet all your friends with your favorite slang. Yeah… he’s been stalking you a lot. For real though. He’s just making sure you're not just saying it to only him to irritate him. Even though you totally are trying to irritate him.

Michael literally steals your phone when you're not around and looks up this “Hi Sausage” slang to understand why you say it. He needs to know! It’s killing him! He just doesn’t understand this whole slang thing and Google isn’t doing a good job explaining it either. Help him!

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Update

Hey guys sorry for the delay in posting. I know I said I would hopefully be uploading the next chapter for spiders sister / fics in general soon(ish) but I have a few things going on.

1. I have work for my job I have to do.

2. I am extremely exhausted as of late because of worsening heart issues. I’m scheduled to see a cardiologist soon to find out more which is really sad because Im actually quite young (but still over 18 dw hehe). I went to the doctor and they did an ECG I got diagnosed with tachycardia (my heart beats too fast). And aside from being really tired, I am out of breath and almost faint when I stand up. The almost fainting thing happens because my heart rate spikes when I stand / do things which makes daily life a bit difficult rn. And it’ll probably remain an issue until I can know more about what’s going on and how to treat it. So far all we know is it’s a heart issue of some kind.

3. My both of my grandmas are sick and it’s not looking good for either of them. Which is hard to deal with because of how important they are to me and my life.

I am not giving up on my writing (at this point I don’t think I ever even could if I wanted to ((WHICH I DONT)) it might just be anywhere between a few days to weeks until I’m able to write more (for either my ongoing series or just one shots). Basically if my workload eases up or I’m not so tired / have some motivation I might get some more writing done. But for the next little bit I may be a bit slower in bringing out new works.

I probably will be writing a fair few fics ✨projecting✨ though so … yeah.

And I need ALL FOUR of my wisdom teeth out but can’t until we sort the heart issues.

Don’t worry about me though I’ll be ok. And I just thought I should explain why I’m a bit absent lately which has also been partly due to uni workload (in term time).

Also idk if I have said this but I’ll assume I should reiterate based on my lack on anons in my inbox but I’m taking requests (that I deem fit) for both marvel characters (wanda, pepper, Natasha) and marvel cast (Lizzie and Scarlett but I can also have the Olsen twins show up if you want but not as the main characters).

Make sure y’all drink water today and take breaks.

Also if ur one of my anons and you feel like it, come say hi I miss y’all (hehehe)

- ccc ☕️

[sweetshelluvaau]

Free pass for you to explain how you’ve decided to rewrite any of the characters ^^

if you can’t choose tho I’m very curious to hear your thoughts on Alastor

Oh geez I have to pick a character to talk about! Well, I'll do that but I'll also answer regarding to Alastor first:

I have a complicated relationship with Alastor in the show, however I don't think they changed him too much from the pilot but at the same time, something just feels off about him.

No shade to his new actor, he does a fine job but something is missing that Ed Bosco bought to the character. Also as much as I love the song Stay Gone, I do feel him using modern slang to be out of character for him. (I'll admit tho that him dropping the f-bomb did made me laugh.)

Really I don't have much complaints about Alastor being I'm kinda indifferent about him.

As how I would rewrite him: Well first off, get rid of the Voodou stuff. There are people much better qualified than I am to talk about why using symbols and villainizing a closed practice/religion that has ties to parts of the black community is wrong so I'm not touching that can of worms. I know Viv said he's Creole, but I feel she only made him such because of the backlash and criticism she gotten.

So, in my AU, suppose to using Voodou, Alastor will still have powers but they're more eldritch/Lovecraft in nature (which is kinda what he already has going for him so it's not too much of change I guess idk) and has these powers by making a deal with a demon when alive and when he died it just transferred with him when he arrived in Hell. How? Why? I haven't figured that out yet being I don't know even if I'm gonna touch on that much in my AU anyways.

Also worth nothing that in my AU: Most Overlords don't have powers and play more like gang leaders/owners of their control of ‘districts’/businesses though out various rings in hell where Overlords are a thing (Pride/Greed/Sloth. Lust sort of has them but they're more regulated in that ring suppose to having freedom to do as they see fit) sort of thing. The only exception of the rule is Alastor and maybe Zestiral because he's old and gives me sorcerer vibes (plus it is my AU I do what I want). Vox still has the ability of hypnotization but it's less magic more than it's technology (I mean he's a TV head and likes to update with the times so he had a good time to prefect that).

But back to Alastor: Honestly, I think that's really the major change I would do being I think he has a solid foundation otherwise, it just comes to excultion.

Okay, character of my picking:

Less of a rewrite and more of a compete replacement but I would get rid of Adam and replace him with Archangel Michael. I don't get why Adam is leading the extermination being he was never an angel but a human that just so happened to go to heaven in Hazbin. This would be okay if the worldbuilding made this make sense but again, we're talking about Hellaverse here where the writers just throw shit against a wall and see what sticks without asking why.

But yeah, I think it'd make more sense for Michael to be leading the Extermination. I don't plan on him being a dick, let alone evil in my AU more than a guy who's trying to justify to himself that this is for the betterment for Heaven and Hell but takes no joy in the job otherwise and likely going to go though an existential crisis half way into my version of Hazbin.

Also, Lucifer and him are brothers. The Drama!

Anyway this is getting long and I think I spent two hours writing this out. If there's any other questions you want to ask, you're always welcome to send in more.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

give me 6 emojis for every single fic on ur list for $1200 cal

ILYSM NOVA!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay here we go. Brand spanking new sentences for ya.

18 for 🌊:

---

“Like reincarnation?” Buck asks. “Didn’t take you for a believer in that sort of thing.”

Eddie chuckles. “I’m not. And, no, not like that. Maybe more like… An alternate reality?”

Buck tenses a little. “An alternate reality?”

“Yep,” Eddie confirms. “You said we, in another life, we live in Los Angeles. We’re best friends. We see each other every day.”

We’re best friends, but I’m secretly in love with you.

And you think I don’t feel the same?

I hope to god that you do.

I think I do.

Buck sits up suddenly and shifts his body to look at Eddie.

---

18 for ⚡:

---

“Eddie,” Margaret says, cool and pleasant, like a plastic plant. They’ve walked up behind him as he’s bent over the cooler, grabbing a beer for himself and one for Buck. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

Eddie closes the cooler lid and straightens up to face her and her husband. His stomach twists with apprehension. It’s actually much easier to be around them when he’s simply fulfilling the role of Buck’s not-so-secret service. 

“I am.” Eddie answers flatly. “Maddie and Chim have done a great job.”

“They have,” Phillip agrees. He’s fiddling with the band of his watch. He’s nervous, Eddie thinks. Approaching Eddie is either not his idea, or deeply off putting. Maybe both. Well, hey. Eddie is glad they find him off putting. 

“We were hoping to catch up with you,” Margaret says.

Catch up. As if they’re old friends.

---

18 for 🌌:

@steadfastsaturnsrings

---

It’s been quite the year for Eddie. He’s done a lot of work. Lots of therapy. Lots of conversations with lots of different people, some good, some bad. A lot of anxiety and self-doubt. And among it, so many soft, quiet moments of reassurance. From Buck, from Chris, from the 118 and everyone else in his life. By the time they planned the trip, Eddie had the staggering sense that he actually deserved it. 

It struck him that he hasn’t, historically, felt that way about much of anything. 

Maybe there’s a lot to be said about allowing yourself to deviate from a destructive path. 

The song playing from Buck’s music library comes to an end, and a few seconds later, Eddie recognizes the beginning few seconds of Steal My Sunshine with an irritated chill.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Eddie,” Buck complains. “I love this song.”

“It’s ridiculous!”

“That’s never once stopped me from loving you.”

Eddie groans. 

---

18 for 🚨:

---

“Uh, hi,” Eddie replies awkwardly. “My name is Edmundo Diaz. My ex was a client of Jim Egerton’s. I was in contact with your firm a bit after she died last spring. Regarding custody of my son.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that she passed,” Nadine says, tone sincere. “Which client was this?”

“Shannon Dempsey,” Eddie answers. “And, uh… Thanks. I-I’m calling, though, because Mr. Fletcher did a great job handling Shannon’s will and everything. I was hoping he might be taking on new clients.”

“For your will and estate?” Nadine asks.

“Yeah, exactly. Actually, I almost died last night. And I know this is super last minute, but if you have any time soon, it would mean a lot if I could update what happens to my son in case I’m not so lucky next time.”

“Next time?” 

“I’m a firefighter,” Eddie explains.

---

18 for 🩸:

---

He thinks he’d be safe to go to Hen. He can’t imagine a world where Hen assumes the worst of him without asking questions first. Chim might be scared, but he could come around. And Bobby… Well, Bobby is a practicing Catholic. Eddie knows what his own thoughts, trained by a Catholic upbringing, have whispered in his mind about himself. He’s terrified to risk seeing Bobby and facing judgment. That would break him.

That’s all assuming that it’s Bobby there. Eddie killed Gerrard. So he’s not the captain. But that doesn’t mean they gave it back to Bobby. Fuck. For Buck’s sake - and everyone else’s - he really hopes they did. He can’t imagine how lonely Buck would be with Bobby at a distance from him, too. 

Eddie doesn’t waltz into the station. He’s not that dumb. The station is another home that isn’t quite safe. 

---

18 for 📚:

---

He was friendly with everyone. Well-liked, outside his brother and the cousins his brother was close to. He had people at school to hang out with, and got invited to do things. Parties hosted by other members of the swim team that he always avoided or left early. 

Essentially, since Ravi was social and friendly and did well in school, it flew under the radar. The difficulties. The queasy feeling in his stomach every single day before he left for school, and how tired he was every night when he got home. How the smallest social activity seemed to drain him more than anyone. How he could wipe a mask over his face and adopt a personality more amenable to the people he was interacting with. One that didn’t exactly feel like him. 

If there was any strangeness, people chalked it up to years in the hospital leaving him improperly socialized. If he struggled to read people, it’s just that he was more used to healthcare workers than his own friends. If he was analytical and plain spoken, it’s just that cancer had made him wise beyond his years. 

No one thought anything about it. 

Not until he was halfway through his undergrad in business and getting fantastic grades, but so entirely miserable that, if he didn’t have anything he needed to do, he couldn’t get out of bed. He thought it was just depression or anxiety. He thought he was just weak again. 

“Autism,” a psychiatrist told him instead. 

---

18 for 🦮:

---

“Evan?” Maddie prompts. “Any questions for Sam?”

Well, yes. Lots, if he’s being honest. Mostly, what does it mean for him if he does this? What does his life look like? Does he really deserve this? Are they sure there’s no one who needs her more? 

“I…” Buck trails off. “Sorry, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay.” Sam says. “I know it’s overwhelming.”

He takes a heavy breath. His chest feels a bit tight, stomach a bit nauseous. The room is starting to feel unbearably hot.

---

18 for 🔮:

Gonna include a line break sorry to be awkward...

---

He knocks on the door and waits, heart beating loudly enough to feel it in his skull. This shouldn’t be so uncomfortable. This should be safe, like coming home. But sometimes, home is the place you leave so it doesn’t leave you first. 

Bobby opens the door moments later. 

“Hi, Buck,” he smiles. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Well,” Bobby exhales. “Come on in.”

🔮🔮🔮

“So how are things really?” Bobby asks when they sit down to dinner. It’s just the two of them. Athena is working this evening. 

Bobby remembers another tense dinner. Not long after the tsunami, when Bobby was quietly blocking Buck from returning. They’ve both grown so much since then, Bobby thinks.

[revserrayyu]

2.2 Penacony thoughts [part 1]

**Mild spoiler warning** in place as I didn’t reach that far into the new update as of yet. Stopped right after seeing Sunday being a holy man listening to the troubles of others, so if that scene doesn’t ring any bells, then please refrain from reading further. As always, don’t spoil anything that happens afterwards, not only for myself, but for anyone else who hasn’t finished the new story yet.

First things first, I’m so pleased that we start off with Boothill. It feels like it’s been forever since he was first drip-marketed and when we heard that phone call of his with Black Swan, so finally seeing him in game is pretty nice. Still love that design in his eye too.

I’m also happy that the jade abacus was brought up again. Once we saw DHIL & Jing Yuan team up in the 2.2 livestream trailer I figured that Dan Heng was gonna call upon our beloved general with this item. At present, I don’t know if it’s actually used or if we head to the Xianzhou instead and request for help. Either way, I’m a bit surprised the general lends a hand. Of course he’s an ally and promised to help us with any troubles, but.. last time we saw him, he had just encountered Luocha and Jingliu, right? Could Jing Yuan really have left that confrontation behind so easily? Are we ever going to learn about what happened during that conversation? Who knows, but I hope we find out one day if this story doesn’t mention the matter further.

Anyways, who do you think the Elation Emanator that Boothill is? Naturally, I first thought of Sparkle solely because of her “I AM Elation!” declaration during her character trailer and her being a Masked Fool, but seeing how Boothill is having issues accessing Penacony in the first place, I doubt the two have officially met. They could’ve met elsewhere, sure, but I still doubt it’s Sparkle. Still haven’t a clue on who else it could be though but whomever it is certainly can’t hold their liquor.

Then we cut to Acheron being cornered by a bunch of npcs who are apparently all part of the “Dreammaster,” but let me just say that I love how literal Acheron can be, like correcting how many slashes she actually used. It’s also a bit scary for her to mention, as I don’t even remember a second blade either.

She’s just.. ironically funny to me. Acting all threatening but being completely serious with her grammar.

It was humorous when we switched to Robin for the first time. I didn’t manage to get a screenshot of it but how the screen even questioned it like “switching to Robin’s POV?” was hilarious. And rightfully so because this certainly isn’t our beloved idol. Sparkle, please, stop handing out bombs to everyone!

It was a short switch, but we finally jump back to where we personally left off. I know the journey Firefly is referring to might be our time hanging out together in Penacony, but somewhere deep down I imagine it could also be about our possible time with the Stellaron Hunters before the entire story even happened. I’m sure we have some sort of past with them but who knows if and when we’ll touch upon that.

Firefly goes into detail about her actions, about how she informed Silver Wolf to contact us and the plan she wanted to share with us before “Death” acted out. I guess it makes the lies and secrets a bit more bearable? All according to the script and at least she originally intended to tell us everything before the monster lashed out.

Then we get scene with her and Blade and oh my god, they both look so good?? Learning that Blade actually owns a driver’s license is comical too. Who would’ve thought our edgy man could be so reliable.

I’m so thankful for this scene as it gives us a taste about how Firefly acts around the other Stellaron Hunters. Since the rumors about her being Sam started, I couldn’t imagine how this sweet girl could’ve been one of them, but it seems she gets along just fine, even teasing Blade a bit.

Now correct me if I’m wrong but this is actually a flashback that happens right before Kafka destroys the Jepella Brotherhood during that one Myriad Celestia trailer, yeah? That’s pretty cool. Confirms that Firefly has been here the entire time and Bladie is even wearing the same suit.

I never thought of a decent acronym for what Sam could really mean, but we finally got our answer: Strategic Assault Mech. Makes me wonder if Firefly is even her true name, since that also seems to be part of the suit’s name.

Rejoice, someone other than ourselves can actually see Misha and Clockie. Would’ve never guessed that person to be Welt though. I guess he really is a child at heart. I know he gets excited whenever mechs are involved, such as the Engine of Creation, but this also reminds me of how his E6 depicts him as a child.

It’s unsettling that Misha calls “Death” something so innocent as “Sleepie.” Also claims that the monster isn’t aggressive and sometimes fetches the wrong guests to bring here.. uh huh, right. Sure. But of course Gallagher controls it! I know we learn more about him during this patch but I still don’t trust him.

So it’s clear that Misha is still a giant mystery. It’s good that us and Welt can see him, but the kid still isn’t perceived by everyone here. That one pepeshi we found alongside March thought we were talking to someone invisible and it appears Micah and Himeko can’t see Misha either.

During that flashback with the siblings as kids, I sorta feel like Sunday is also talking about Robin here. I know we’re chatting about the injured bird they found, but all the caged bird metaphors that Robin has, from her splash art and trailers, is hard to ignore.

Then we learn Gallagher is a History Fictionologist that’s in charge of this new place, which is all fine and well I suppose? Great to know who he really is but chalk it up as yet another person who lied to us. Of course I don’t believe much of anything any non-Express family says but whatever. He’s using fancy words that went over my head.

And now it’s all started to make sense in my head. Inviting different parties that have experience handling stellarons or at least have capable means of preventing a disaster. The Express and the Stellaron Hunters themselves are an obvious and reliable choices when it comes to stellarons, the IPC certainly has impressive power if Aventurine is anything to go off of, and I don’t doubt the real Galaxy Rangers are strong fighters too. I’m sire Black Swan and Sparkle have some tricks up their sleeves too, as would Ever-Flame Mansion.. if they’re alive. Also, the fact that the meme is named “Dormancy”.. Ratio stated in his note to Aventurine that “Dormancy” was the impossible in the dreamscape instead of “Death,” but I figured he just meant it as the word’s true meaning, not referring to the monster itself. That’s clever.

Sir, don’t give me hope like this by saying you’ll fight with us. Do you know how many people are wishing for you to actually be playable?? I’d love it if he was, I’d even take him as a four-star at this point (even though he clearly has five-star energy) but something tells me he isn’t. He gives me Cocolia vibes a little, like he’s certainly an important figure but I would not be shocked if he turns on us somehow and ends up as a boss of some sort either.

Aventurine’s status is truly a mystery that I definitely need to know! Is our beloved gambler okay?? Preferably alive somehow?? It hasn’t been long but I miss seeing/hearing him in the story already! But I do love that the chip he gave is when we first entered our hotel room turned out to be a transmitter. I’m not sure if it’ll reach his place in that momochromatic world he’s in, but perhaps we can use it to call upon Topaz and the rest of the IPC chilling in the hotel lobby? After Topaz noticed one of the broken Aventurine stone pieces lost its shine, I can imagine that our gambler had several spare transmitter chips to hand out to those he can depend on.

Stuff happens in a quick cutscene and we climb up many stairs to encounter another Nameless who has certainly seen better days. He sorta looks like that one white-haired dude on that new light cone that they showed briefly during the 2.2 livestream. And since it isn’t much of a spoiler anymore considering the official HSR yt channel already put out a video on it.. yeah, harmony hat.

Pfftt there’s something so funny to me about hearing Himeko call that fierce monster who has already “killed” several people a mere pet. Show no fear mother!

I absolutely LOVE that this man canonically can’t swear! They can switch all the words they want but I know exactly what Boothill wishes to say and it is hilarious. This quirk alone makes me want to pull for him.

My memory isn’t the greatest, but this shot made it so clear for me to remember that the Forgotten Hall mirror is a sort of Garden of Recollection thing, so having Black Swan appear from it was simply perfect.

The girlies working together once again, oh my~

After the things you personally witnessed sweetie, I’m glad you think so. Gotta love strong women!

Whose?? The only relics that come to mind are the Ashblazing Grand Duke set which I’m fairly certain isn’t what Acheron is referring to. I only thought of it due to the memes about how she killed him and turned him into said relics.

There’s another cutscenes with Acheron and that old dude we heard last patch, but I don’t remember much aside from him reminiscing about his companions once being Galaxy Rangers and more chatter about Nihility. This scene however, with Sunday looking all handsome and holy.. OH BOY. He’s gorgeous with the light shinning on him like that. I feel blessed to have witnessed such beauty.

I never thought of him to actually listen to people’s sins, but it suits him rather well. Doesn’t seem like most people recognize him doing so either? Aside from this one pepeshi of course.. either that, or everyone clearly respects Sunday too much while this person could care less on how to act around him. I was gonna make fun of the merchant for having such trivial sins, but if you’re living a life where that’s all you have to worry about, then sign me up.

The confession isn’t all fun and games though as some disbelief about the Family is brought up. Yet another reason for me not to completely trust this holy hot handsome man yet. Looking forward to continuing more later tonight.

[obscurushydrae]

Rules of Play

Please at least give it a read! Liking this post also means it’s more likely I will follow back, as I know you have RAU’d.

Updated 08/19/2024

ABOUT:

Kar/Karmun/Karthonic either-or. If you'd rather separate mun/muse you can use my middle name, Asher to refer to me.

They/Them is cool.

From New York, so the timezone is EST.

Birthday’s January 1990, so 30+

Spoonie with AuDHD

Artist, and educator, so I can get busy. I commute, so I'm on the train for a few hours a day as well and can be sporadic activity wise.

Personal blog @karthonic.

On mobile most of the time.

I left the Tumblr RPC 4 years ago so forgive me as I catch up with the new etiquette, etc.

Personal blog @karthonic.

Sci-Fi Muse: @stellevatum

ARK AU: @sidisaspecto & @hln-4

GENERAL:

Above all else: Be Excellent to each other and party on, dudes!

First and foremost: my activity is sporadic. I refuse to let myself be like I was when I left the RPC in 2019. I may queue a lot of shit. I may go into a black hole for a few weeks or months. I may forget threads or lose them. It doesn't mean I don't care-- I am here to have fun and not get stressed over things.

If you ever want to reach out-- all my blogs and personal are listed above, and my discord is on request to mutuals, even though I'm just as much a cryptid on there as well.

Lurking for a bit before reaching out is fine, but I would like genuinely interested folks. Optional but I have an Interest Tracker for organization purposes.

Communication is key. My muse might be intimidating, but I'm not-- just very busy and on mobile more often than not. Don’t know something, or want me to elaborate: ask! I forgot a reply or not feeling a thing anymore, lemme know. I'm good. I like get to know the people I write with, it makes me plot things better.

This incarnation Kar is for Contemporary Supernatural/Fantasy/Mythology like verses. You can find the Og/Sci-Fi flavored Kar at @stellevatum.

While she's BPRD based,  don’t sweat it if you don’t know the other stuff. If your fandom/verse has a way in, I can finagle her into all sorts of place (she's literally an cosmic horror at heart).

That ‘selective’ part comes into play. I have every right to not follow someone, decline a roleplay, just as you do. Just be polite and respectful.

Crossover/AU/Multiverse/Self Insert friendly. Not your thing, then feel free to not follow.

There will be casual mentions of recreational drug use, more often than not mentions of alcohol than drugs, but will be tagged upon request. Other possible triggers are her fatalistic humor. 

This is not a content resource blog. If you’re here for the pretty pictures, aesthetics, or memes, this is not the blog for you.

Godmoding is discouraged but I’m not going to stop it. I will likely try to out ridiculous you Bugs Bunny style. Even though she can’t die, you’re free to try and kill her, but let me know first (either way she’s gonna be pissed FYI).

Most art is mine but will be credited. If I reblog any art reposted without the original creator’s permission, let me know. I’ll remove it.

FOLLOWING/UNFOLLOWING:

Please don’t follow/interact if you’re under 18. If I follow anyone underage, it’s because I wasn’t able to access any about/ooc information, please don’t take it personally if I unfollow!

If I don’t follow you and you follow me, please just hit me up before doing something. Just because I don’t follow means I’m not interested, I just don’t think our characters mesh with the information given. If we chat about it, who knows!

If I follow you or like a post but not follow, it's likely because I want to check out your rules but can't find a mobile friendly/need time to look through things, especially if it's a carrd. If you follow back, I'll message/send passwords as I don't want to overstep.

I don’t usually greet/interact with personal blogs, so side blogs off personals give me a heads up. Otherwise, I might miss you.

I may unfollow or softblock-- but that doesn't mean I am not against second chances. It usually mean either we haven't really done anything and I'm keeping my dash tidy or you never followed back so I'm taking the hint and stepping off, or you were inactive for 6+ month and I assume you abandoned the blog.

If you'd prefer I don't accidentally re-follow, you are free to hardblock. It's a bummer, but we need to what makes each of us comfortable to write. I will only hardblock if it is in your rules or if it was something serious that warrants it.

IN CHARACTER:

Compatible Fandoms (ie I am Familiar with): BPRD/Hellboy, Hades, Devil May Cry, Wolfenstein, Gravity Falls, WTNV, Obey Me!, Sandman, Good Omens, Hellsing, Persona, Durarara!!, Castlevania, Blood of Zeus, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Basically anything with demons/angels/gods and the like. I will interact with Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss muses, even though personally I don't vibe with Viv.

Kar is an ancient cosmic horror who was supposed to destroy all reality. Raised by mortals, so she thought she was. But she's also got other forms, which folks may see.

As for appearance, unless you’re really looking you might notice the fangs. And for the most part, assume she’s wearing her signature sunglasses covering her eyes since those rarely are taken off in public.

While not usually brought up, but Kar has attempted to end her life and self-harmed. Nowadays it’s usually just masked with fatalistic humor, recreational drug use, and lots of drinking. 

There will be mentions of Nazis particularly of the occult sort, so if that makes you uncomfortable please feel free to step away.

ASKS:

Askbox will only be open for IC interactions, save for when the meme specifies Mun. IMs are for OOC communication. Anon feature is for sideblogs, multimuses to interact ICly with me. Any Anon messages good or bad directed to the Mun (outside of memes) will be ignored. The Anon feature is privilege, I will revoke it for my well-being if need be.

No Magic Anons, please!

There’s no need to wait to send me a meme if you’ve followed me for 5 minutes or 5 months, send the thing.

Reblog Karma is going to be enforced on this blog. That is, if you reblog an ask meme off me, please send me one. Otherwise, reblog the meme from @karref

THREADS:

Jump on any open post, there’s no need to ask permission, they’re there for that reason!

I will be keeping my posts simple! I don't have the time/energy to make formatted posts, and I like to keep things as accessible as possible. I do try to keep track of the heavily plotted stuff, but the casual things might drop off. Feel free to remind me if it's been a bit!

Communicate! If you’re having trouble writing a reply, talk to me! If you don’t like or not feeling a thread, say so and drop the thread. That also doesn’t mean things are done for good. Come to me if you want to skip/do something else.

If you’d rather we move things to discord, just ask! I’ll set up a server just for us!

SHIPPING:

Shipping is welcomed and willing to discuss the possibility, but I leave the rest to chemistry and just how we as writers write. Kar is into male muses, and will be polite about turning other people down, unless one doesn’t take the hint.

I will only write ships with muns older than 21, but 25+ is preferred.

That being said, I will no longer tolerate stringing me along, or vague replies. Please be clear and direct. If you are interested; say so. If you are not or no longer wanting to go in that direction, tell me. Any vague or non-committal replies will be treated as disinterest and dropped.

This blog is multiship, meaning each relationship is treated as its own separate place in the multiverse unless discussed and agreed upon.

Kar can be polifidelitous. She’s okay with having multiple partners and those partners having partners if your character is cool with it. But she can be selectively monogamous in your little bubble too.

NSFW may be on here, or I might do it over discord. I'm playing it by vibes. As I don't really have any established romantic stuff since rebooting, I can't say with any certainty. Will update when I do know.

TAGGING/ HARD LIMITS:

Blood, Gore, Body Horror, Drugs, etc, will be tagged with (name); for instance drugs; . Special Tags on request.

Posts will be tagged upon request, just let me know!

If you read and understand this, I would appreciate if you'd leave a like the post, that way I know you have without forcing a password.

But if you'd like to message me, here's a DM icebreaker: What's your favorite extinct animal? (If you're lucky I may have cool fact about it.)

HOPE TO WRITE WITH YOU SOON! :D

[stellevatum]

Please at least give it a read! Liking this post also means it’s more likely I will follow back, as I know you have RAU’d.

Updated 07/19/2024

ABOUT:

Kar/Karmun/Karthonic either-or. If you'd rather separate mun/muse you can use my middle name, Asher to refer to me.

They/Them is cool.

From New York, so the timezone is EST.

Birthday’s January 1990, so 30+

Spoonie with AuDHD

Artist, and educator, so I can get busy. I commute, so I'm on the train for a few hours a day as well and can be sporadic activity wise.

Personal blog @karthonic.

On mobile most of the time.

I left the Tumblr RPC 4 years ago so forgive me as I catch up with the new etiquette, etc.

Paranormal/Supernatural AU: @obscurushydrae

ARK AU: @sidisaspecto & @hln-4

GENERAL:

Above all else: Be Excellent to each other and party on, dudes!

First and foremost: my activity is sporadic. I refuse to let myself be like I was when I left the RPC in 2019. I may queue a lot of shit. I may go into a black hole for a few weeks or months. I may forget threads or lose them. It doesn't mean I don't care-- I am here to have fun and not get stressed over things.

If you ever want to reach out-- all my blogs and personal are listed above, and my discord is on request to mutuals, even though I'm just as much a cryptid on there as well.

This sounds redundant to post this but: If you have no intention of RPing with me don’t follow. Lurking for a bit before reaching out is fine, but I would like genuinely interested folks. Optional, but I've made an interest checker to help organize things.

Communication is key. My muse might be intimidating, but I'm not-- just very busy and on mobile more often than not. Don’t know something, or want me to elaborate: ask! I forgot a reply or not feeling a thing anymore, lemme know. I'm good. I like get to know the people I write with, it makes me plot things better.

This incarnation Kar is for SCIENCE FICTION/SPACE OPERA like verse. Her Contemporary/Urban Fantasy/Paranormal/Supernatural self can be found at @obscurushydrae

While she's Star Wars Based,  don’t sweat it if you don’t know the other stuff. If your fandom/verse has a way in, I can finagle her into all sorts of place (she's literally an cosmic horror at heart).

That ‘selective’ part comes into play. I have every right to not follow someone, decline a roleplay, just as you do. Just be polite and respectful.

OC/Crossover/AU/Multiverse/Self Insert friendly. Not your thing, then feel free to not follow.

There will be casual mentions of recreational drug use, more often than not mentions of alcohol than drugs, but will be tagged upon request. Other possible triggers are her fatalistic humor. 

This is not a content resource blog. If you’re here for the pretty pictures, aesthetics, or memes, this is not the blog for you.

Godmoding is discouraged but I’m not going to stop it. I will likely try to out ridiculous you Bugs Bunny style. Even though she can’t die, you’re free to try and kill her, but let me know first (either way she’s gonna be pissed FYI).

Most art is mine but will be credited. If I reblog any art reposted without the original creator’s permission, let me know. I’ll remove it.

FOLLOWING/UNFOLLOWING:

Please don’t follow/interact if you’re under 18. If I follow anyone underage, it’s because I wasn’t able to access any about/ooc information, please don’t take it personally if I unfollow!

If I don’t follow you and you follow me, please just hit me up before doing something. Just because I don’t follow means I’m not interested, I just don’t think our characters mesh with the information given. If we chat about it, who knows!

If I follow you or like a post but not follow, it's likely because I want to check out your rules but can't find a mobile friendly/need time to look through things, especially if it's a carrd. If you follow back, I'll message/send passwords as I don't want to overstep.

I don’t usually greet/interact with personal blogs, so side blogs off personals give me a heads up. Otherwise, I might miss you.

I may unfollow or softblock-- but that doesn't mean I am not against second chances. It usually mean either we haven't really done anything and I'm keeping my dash tidy or you never followed back so I'm taking the hint and stepping off, or you were inactive for 6+ month and I assume you abandoned the blog.

If you'd prefer I don't accidentally re-follow, you are free to hardblock. It's a bummer, but we need to what makes each of us comfortable to write. I will only hardblock if it is in your rules or if it was something serious that warrants it.

IN CHARACTER:

Compatible Fandoms (ie I am Familiar with): Star Wars, Mass Effect, Borderlands, Alien/Predator, Dune, The Outer Worlds, Subnautica, No Man's Sky, Galaktikon, RaM, H2G2, and more!

Kar for the most part, is literally the Force. In a body. Raised by mortals, so she thought she was. And spent most of her life just vaguely gesturing and just going with "humanoid." Force sensitive characters might be able to sense her, but she can mask it.

As for appearance, unless you’re really looking you might notice the fangs. And for the most part, assume she’s wearing her signature sunglasses covering her eyes since those rarely are taken off in public.

While not usually brought up, but Kar has attempted to end her life and self-harmed. Nowadays it’s usually just masked with fatalistic humor, recreational drug use, and lots of drinking. 

ASKS:

Askbox will only be open for IC interactions, save for when the meme specifies Mun. IMs are for OOC communication. Anon feature is for sideblogs, multimuses to interact ICly with me. Any Anon messages good or bad directed to the Mun (outside of memes) will be ignored. The Anon feature is privilege, I will revoke it for my well-being if need be.

No Magic Anons, please!

There’s no need to wait to send me a meme if you’ve followed me for 5 minutes or 5 months, send the thing.

Reblog Karma is going to be enforced on this blog. That is, if you reblog an ask meme off me, please send me one. Otherwise, reblog the meme from @karref

THREADS:

Jump on any open post, there’s no need to ask permission, they’re there for that reason!

I will be keeping my posts simple! I don't have the time/energy to make formatted posts, and I like to keep things as accessible as possible. I do try to keep track of the heavily plotted stuff, but the casual things might drop off. Feel free to remind me if it's been a bit!

Communicate! If you’re having trouble writing a reply, talk to me! If you don’t like or not feeling a thread, say so and drop the thread. That also doesn’t mean things are done for good. Come to me if you want to skip/do something else.

If you’d rather we move things to discord, just ask! I’ll set up a server just for us!

SHIPPING:

Shipping is welcomed and willing to discuss the possibility, but I leave the rest to chemistry and just how we as writers write. Kar is into male muses, and will be polite about turning other people down, unless one doesn’t take the hint.

I will only write ships with muns older than 21, but 25+ is preferred.

That being said, I will no longer tolerate stringing me along, or vague replies. Please be clear and direct. If you are interested; say so. If you are not or no longer wanting to go in that direction, tell me. Any vague or non-committal replies will be treated as disinterest and dropped.

This blog is multiship, meaning each relationship is treated as its own separate place in the multiverse unless discussed and agreed upon.

Kar can be polifidelitous. She’s okay with having multiple partners and those partners having partners if your character is cool with it. But she can be selectively monogamous in your little bubble too.

NSFW may be on here, or I might do it over discord. I'm playing it by vibes. As I don't really have any established romantic stuff since rebooting, I can't say with any certainty. Will update when I do know.

TAGGING/ HARD LIMITS:

Blood, Gore, Body Horror, Drugs, etc, will be tagged with (name); for instance drugs; . Special Tags on request.

Posts will be tagged upon request, just let me know!

If you read and understand this, I would appreciate if you'd leave a like the post, that way I know you have without forcing a password.

But if you'd like to message me, here's a DM icebreaker: What's your favorite extinct animal? (If you're lucky I may have cool fact about it.)

HOPE TO WRITE WITH YOU SOON! :D

[poetic-beats]

Sometimes when I come back to this blog it just makes me cringe. Mostly because whenever I’m manic I start a ton of new projects whether its crappy art, jumping around to different sites for my poetry that I eventually ditch, different business ideas that I start but never finish, bad poetry I have written things I like but there’s also just bad poetry that served a purpose for me to vent but objectively is bad. It’s also a very open book of the events and stages I’ve gone through and some of you have followed me from the beginning and I just cringe at the thought of what it must look like seeing my erratic postings. And it’s a monument to all of my sadness and trauma and struggles and I don’t find that a bad thing though I guess because writing was helpful and I’m not ashamed of what I’ve struggled with but damn this blog was almost as much of a mess as my mind. Life has changed so much in the 7 years since I started this blog, I’m 30 now which is scary to be so old ( I know 30 isn’t actually old old but in context of where I am in my life) and yet feel like I’m so behind in adulting. It’s like when I hit 30 in my mind it changed you know until I hit that number I was still in my 20’s even if it was 29 it felt like okay I’m not an ‘adult’ adult yet so it’s fine my shits not together but its like okay I’ve hit 30 now I should’ve started checking some boxes off the list and whilst some things have improved I still have a long way to go. I’m in therapy now I managed to start early last year privately ofc because NHS sucks ass. Luckily she’s good about pricing clearly not in it for the money; was my old MH teams lead therapist before she quit didn’t know she’d gone private, found her by dumb luck. She’s really good & it’s already helped me so much. I managed to acquire a few new diagnoses at the end of last year not a surprise though nothing new or unexpected as such but sometimes does feel like it’s a never ending list. Oh I got a second cat!!! His names Shrimp and he’s adorable. Bagel loves him I’ll have to post a picture of them both at some point and after having not written/barely written anything for awhile I recently started writing poetry again. Not sure why I slowed down/stopped I guess things got really busy & I managed/coped in different ways I also just kinda lost it like I had a mental block when I did try writing. Anyways so I wrote some new stuff recently sadly it’s not exactly happy it’s more of a throwback to when I first started this blog, writing as a way to cope in the moment when emotions were too much, to sort of purge it from my mind. I’ve had some difficult things to deal with and it’s been a lot so being able to write again is bittersweet. I also can’t vouch for its quality but hey it helped me cope so does it really matter, guess not. Anyways idk that’s enough rambling from me now don’t know why I wrote this out on here I mean my blogs mostly dead apart from these random check ins I do where I give these life update posts which I”m not sure anyone even cares to read because this blog is so inactive now but here I am doing it anyways.

[babyfairy]

here’s a much needed life updates post! even though generally speaking not a whole lot has happened lol

life has been pretty difficult since i lost my grandpa truthfully. it’s been a lot of struggling since then. lately in particular (as in the last few months) i’ve been struggling mentally more than ever. i think im going through one of those really painful transitional/growth periods (which figures, it’s about time for my saturn return) but i also think i am neurodivergent in some way? as in im like 99.99999% sure i am neurodivergent. i can’t think of any other explanation for the way my brain works and for the way i am struggling.

it’s weird because i have a lot of guilt about exploring the idea of possibly being neurodivergent. i’ve been talking with my doctor about it and every time we’re done talking i feel like im a liar or that im manipulating her or others into believing i could be neurodivergent in order to have an excuse for just not being a good person, friend, daughter, sister etc. i’ve been talking with her about OCD specifically. there are a lot of things im learning about OCD that i relate to and that have been completely taking over my life since the death of my grandfather. but i also relate to a lot of the traits of autism, so truthfully i don’t really know what’s going on and not knowing has been isolating and sort of difficult and scary. i have this intense need to know what’s “wrong” with me or why i act/think/feel the way i do. i think that in and of itself is a symptom but i’ve always been that way. i think i have trouble relinquishing control. and lately i just feel very out of control. my work, friendships, family life, self esteem, and everything all just feel extremely unstable lmao and i know the primary reason is me. because i’m always bracing for the next terrible thing to happen and i’m always worried about ruining everything or hurting someone or i don’t even know what. i worry every moment that i am awake.

i’ve been adjusting my meds under the advice of my doctor and a psychiatrist and im trying to get back into therapy but god is it intimidating lol! i don’t know why! i think the thought of starting all over with a new therapist just scares me a lot. i know i have to do it though because i can’t manage this on my own anymore at all. and i have no idea how to make it any better or manage my stress. so physically and mentally im doing really poorly. i think maybe worse than ever. but i’m alive lol and i’m trying to get back to a point where i feel ok and not so paranoid and distressed all the time. im just trapped in this horrible cycle. it’s really frustrating. and i just want to understand why but i don’t for now and i have to be ok with that.

it isn’t all bad though lol and i do have things to look forward to. im trying my best to build and deepen new relationships so i feel less isolated. being agoraphobic in your early 20s really does a number on your social life!!! i managed to get beyoncé tickets and im planning on flying to visit some of my closest friends later this year. so i have things to look forward to and that helps keep me going on the days where i just want to give up. it’s hard 😅 but hopefully it won’t be this hard for too much longer and i’ll be able to look back on this time period and feel proud of myself for pushing past it. because right now truthfully i just feel ashamed and sad most of the time. i think shame and guilt are like my primary emotions lol. and just general tiredness. but i’m trying my best to claw my way out of it

[kaminocasey]

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Part 3

Summary: You get into an accident and are transported to the Star Wars galaxy permanently... for the time being. In the meantime, you get closer to Rex.

Pairing: Captain Rex x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Angst, reader gets into an accident in the real world, Hardcase lives though!

WC: 4.2K

A/N: HELLO I know it's been a hot minute since I've updated most of my fics, BUT the good news is, I'm focusing on four of my big fics this year: Dream A Little, Sacred Woman, Bonsoir, and Loverboy. I'll also do small fics and try to update the smaller fics when I can! ANYWAY, I am really excited about this fix it fic <3 (pics from Pinterest) AND A HUGE shoutout to my girl @idledreams for reading over this COUNTLESS times and still hyping me up over it (Along with all my writing) You're the best! <3

Dream A Little Masterlist │ Playlist

Don’t panic. 

Don’t panic.

DON’T. PANIC. 

“I meant someone else. I’m not confident that I can-”

“Cut the osik. What’s going on?” Kix crosses his arms, his eyes still narrowed at you.

How are you supposed to get out of this? He clearly knows you well enough to know you’re lying. What if you just tell him the truth? He’ll more than likely think you’re crazy. You’re still not entirely convinced you’re not. 

This is all just starting to feel too real for you, so you close your eyes and will yourself awake.

Wake up. 

WAKE. UP. Goddammit. Why isn’t it working? 

Kix sighs your name, making your eyes snap open again. 

“Just talk to me.” Kix sighs, a pleading look in his eyes. 

Clearly the two of you are good friends here in your dream or alternate reality, or whatever this is.

“Do you promise to not think I’m crazy or to not tell anyone if I tell you?” You ask him, your pleading look matching his own. 

He nods. “Of course.”

As the two of you walk in silence to a more secluded spot, you try to figure out how to tell him the truth. Even though he promised to not think you’re crazy, that doesn’t mean he can stop the intruding thought from popping into his head. And you can’t really blame him. Would you believe you if you were in someone else’s shoes?

“Okay…” You breathe out as you find a closet and go inside. “Okay…” 

Your hands start fidgeting, clenching and unclenching as you pace in the small space. Kix murmurs your name again, stopping you so that you look at him. 

“It’s alright.” He assures you.

You nod, wanting to believe him. 

God, why can’t you wake up?

“I’m not from here…” You start.

He laughs, confused. “Okay?”

“I’m not from this… reality?” You still struggle to find the words. 

“What do you mean?” His brows furrow as he struggles to understand what you’re saying. 

You shake your head, still trying to find the words. 

“Do you know how when I first woke up yesterday, I woke up confused?” 

He nods. “I heard about it.”

“That’s because I’d never been here before…” 

You’re still timid to tell him this is all a tv show in your reality. 

You continue anyway. “My ‘real’ life is somewhere that is different from this galaxy…” 

Kix’s face goes from confused to disbelief rather quickly. You still can’t really believe it yourself.

“I go to sleep at night there and then I’m somehow transported here…” 

“Okay…” He murmurs. “I mean, I’ve heard and seen way stranger things happen.” 

“Y-you believe me?” 

“I have no reason not to. I know for a fact that you’re not crazy.” He smiles softly and you let out a huge sigh of relief. “Unless you’re having some sort of mental breakdown…”

You give him a pointed look and he puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay. Not a mental breakdown. Got it.” He nods, smiling. 

He believes you.

“Do you not think anyone else would believe you?” He asks.

You shrug. “Maybe Rex?”

It was only a few moments ago that you found yourself wanting to tell him everything. He’s easy to talk to. That still surprises you. 

Kix smirks knowingly and you roll your eyes.

“Focus please.” You try to hide the flustered expression that is inevitably on your face right now.

“I’m just saying-”

All of a sudden, you and Kix are interrupted by a random 501st trooper as the door slides open and he looks between you and Kix, clearly embarrassed and thinking he walked in on something going on.

“I was looking for towels-” The trooper explains, apologetically.

“It’s alright. I was just leaving…” You look at Kix. “I’ve gotta find Rex.”

A bad feeling settles in your stomach as you quickly walk out of the closet, finding the exit to the building with the only thing on your mind being saving Hardcase.

The moment you wake up, you groan into your pillow with frustration and try to will yourself back to sleep. To no avail, of course. “Goddammit.” You murmur, concern automatically coursing through your body. 

All this stuff that’s going on in your “dream world” is starting to take a toll on your body. As you sit up, you feel tense, as if you’d been nervous all night. Stretching your aching limbs, you look over at your clock and realize it’s almost noon. Which means you’re running late for your lunch with your mother. 

With a quick restless groan and one last stretch, you practically throw yourself out of the comfort of your bed and race around your room, throwing new clothes on and then running to the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair. You very quickly pull it back and then grab your coat and bag and head out.

Debating whether or not it would be quicker to walk or catch a cab. It’s only a couple of blocks away, and knowing noon traffic in New York, it probably has to be quicker to walk/run. 

Your phone starts ringing the moment you get into the elevator. When you pull it out of your bag, you see that your mom is calling. Knowing you’re about to get an earful for being late, you debate on sending it to voicemail and just texting her an apology. But then you’ll have to hear about that when you get there. So you answer.

“Hello, mother. I’m so sorry-”

“Should we just reschedule when it's convenient for you?” She snips.

“No, mom… I’m sorry, I just overslept is all…” 

“I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes. There are people staring at me, probably thinking I’ve been stood up. By my own daughter, no less.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t stand you up, mother. I’m literally on my way.”

“How far away are you?” 

This angry, irritable version of your mother is completely different than the one who had been singing to you the last couple nights. If you weren’t used to it, perhaps you’d have whiplash. But nope, this has been your whole life.

“Maybe 10 minutes.” You tell her as you get out of the elevator and start walking out of your building. 

Cool air practically whips you in the face and brings tears to your eyes as you see there’s still lingering snow on the sidewalk. 

“Have a good day!” Your doorman, Frank, tells you.

“Thank you, Frank! You as well. Tell Marla I said hello!” You grin.

“Will do, sweetheart.” He kindly tips his hat toward you and you start practically sprinting down the street.

“Who’s Frank?” Your mother demands.

“My doorman.” 

“And Marla is?”

“Frank’s wife, mother.” 

“He seemed a little too friendly with you.”

“Oh good grief, mom… He’s been the doorman for my building for longer than I’ve been alive. His wife bakes me cakes for my birthday.” 

“Oh good, your father just got here.” She doesn’t even listen to you, which gives you a premonition on how lunch is going to go. “We’ll see you when you get here.” 

She hangs up on you and you shake your head, putting your phone back into your bag and then walking briskly the rest of the way there.

When the restaurant comes into sight, you see your mother and father in the corner window and start to wave, thinking they see you. Luckily the pedestrian sign turns green and you start booking it across the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, the last thing you hear is “LOOK OUT!” from someone behind you and when you turn to look, a car is speeding through their red light. 

And then you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You’re hyper aware of your shut eyes, of the darkness. Everything feels fuzzy. Are you breathing? You take a breath. It doesn’t feel quite necessary though… You need to wake up. You can tell that much. 

So wake up.

You open your eyes but it's immediately too bright. Like a bright white light.

Oh great… I’m dead. Wonderful… You think to yourself. What happened?

You rub your eyes until you can stand the light again, finding that you’re standing.

Weird, but okay. 

There’s a white end table that looks like the one beside your couch at your apartment. On it sits a single picture frame. You stare at it, inspecting the silver frame. It’s a picture of you, your mom, and your dad on your fifth birthday. You look genuinely happy and excited, smiling wildly at the large birthday cake in front of you lined with at least a hundred candles.

Who makes a little kid blow out a hundred candles? Your mother who had to make sure you had the best birthday in your entire pre-k class. 

Raising your hand to pick it up, something stops you. 

No… not something.

Someone. Someone’s deep, soothing voice. 

Rex. 

You’d know that voice literally anywhere. It sounds like he’s right next to you, and you can’t quite understand what he’s saying, but a deep ache fills your veins. You miss him terribly. 

You turn around to throw your arms around him, but find that you’re standing in a familiar, yet unfamiliar doorway. You’d recognize a medbay a mile away.

“Come back to me, cyar’ika…” Rex’s soft voice pleads. “There’s so much I need to say to you… so much I didn’t get to tell you.”

You look at your vitals up on the screen beside the bed you’re lying unconsciously in, confused. Did something happen here to you? You turn back around and no longer see the picture frame. 

Instead, you see yourself in a hospital bed, your parents next to you and then it all comes back to you.

The crosswalk… The car. 

You don’t understand… How are you looking at two versions of yourself? Where are you? Why are you seeing two versions of yourself?

But deep down, you think you know…

You have to choose right now. You don’t exactly know for sure what that entails. If you choose one, would you eventually be able to go back to the other? 

There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?

You take one last look at your mother and father asleep in a couple chairs next to your hospital bed and then walk the other way. 

When you wake up, the lights are still a little bright. But you can see Rex’s face perfectly next to yours. 

“Rex.” You murmur, taking his hand.

His eyes widen with relief and he swiftly stands up, over you, hugging you to him. You can’t help the warmth that spreads from head to toe at the touch of this man as you notice that he’s not wearing his upper plastoid armor. His chest is so warm and firm that you can’t stop yourself from placing your hand over where his heart is and breathing in his familiar vanilla and warm ocean breeze scent. 

“What happened?” You ask, you look up at him.

He pulls away, slightly, his brows still furrowed with concern.

“Kix said that the two of you had a conversation and then you went to go find me… You passed out again. But this time, you weren’t waking up at all. And then you started to crash, but Kix got you stabilized. That was three days ago…” You can see that it's difficult for him to talk about it. 

It’s beyond clear to you that he really cares about you and you’d be lying if you said your entire heart doesn’t do a somersault at the realization. 

“I’m not going anywhere for a while now… okay?” You try to assure him.

“See… what does that mean?” He scoots down to the chair so he can fully look at you. 

“You’ll think I’m crazy if I tell you.” You murmur, noticing the way his thumb is brushing over your knuckles. 

It's almost intoxicating, the effect he has on you. An effect no man has ever had on you. 

“I could never think you’re crazy.” He flashes a soft, amused, smile and your chest tightens at the sight. 

And with a smile like that, how could you deny him? So, you tell him everything that you told Kix. Every detail, aside from the tv show bit. 

After a few moments, Rex lets out a breath. “Wow…”

You expect him to pull away, call you crazy, and leave. But he doesn’t. He continues brushing his thumb back and forth across your knuckles in an almost hypnotizing manner. 

“I know…” You murmur. “So, you don’t think I’m crazy?” 

He lets out a soft, amused snort. “We live in a world where a certain type of people have powers and run around with laser swords. I don’t think anything is outside the realm of possibility anymore.” 

A soft laugh escapes your lips. “Okay, good point.” 

It’s quiet for a moment before you look around and see that you’re in a medbay somewhere. 

“So, where are we?” You ask him.

“We’re back on the Jedi cruiser.” He looks toward the doors.

“And Umbara…?” 

“We won. Krell is imprisoned.” He smiles. 

“And Hardcase?” 

His soft smile widens a bit. “Hardcase is okay. He has a few burns and bruises, but he’s expected to make a full recovery.”

Relief floods your entire body. 

“And the 212th?” 

“All perfectly fine.” He promises you.

You let out a relieved sigh and close your eyes, bringing your hand to your chest. 

“You’re sweet to care so much, you know… It’s one of my favorite things about you.” He admits and your chest tightens. 

“Rex, I-” You smile, but are interrupted by Kix’s cheery voice.

“She’s alive!” Kix comes to your bedside, opposite his brother. 

“I’m alive.” You nod, a smile still on your lips. 

At least you think you’re alive. You’re still not quite sure, yet.

“The boys have been hounding me about seeing you. I told them not until you woke up and only if you felt like it. I can make them go away, just say the word.” Kix tells you. 

You let out a playful sigh. “Send ‘em in.” 

Kix nods with a playful smirk and turns to walk out.

“I’ll let you visit.” Rex tells you and you start to protest, not wanting him to go. “I’ll see you tonight, I promise.”

He smirks down at you as he brushes your hair off your forehead. And before you have time to process that, he kisses you on the forehead, making your eyes flutter closed for a moment.

A simple, yet meaningful enough gesture that your chest tightens. You’ll never forget it.

He throws you a quick wink and makes his way out of the medbay just as four large men in 501st blue armor come filing in, already rowdy and clearly excited to see you.

“Look at you!” Fives’ voice booms, making himself comfortable next to you as he slings an arm around the top of the bed. Hardcase and Tup sit on either side of your feet while Jesse stands at the foot of the bed, checking your chart on the data pad.

“How are you really?” Jesse asks you, concern laced in his tone.

“I’m fine.” You assure him, a wide grin unable to leave your lips.

You still can’t believe that this is your new life. 

“Thank the Maker.” Tup pats your foot. 

As you look around at the four men, you’re overcome with so many emotions and feelings, with acceptance and belonging coming in right at the top of the list. You feel like you’ve finally found a place you belong. 

But at what cost?

“How’s your head?” Hardcase asks you, grinning.

“I should be asking you that.” You smile as you take in his patches that are covering his burns. 

He chuckles. “My head is always loose, so nothing out of the ordinary here. In fact, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you.” He pats your foot, appreciatively.

“Yeah, how did you know about the droid and the missile?” Jesse asks you.

You shrug, nonchalantly. “Just had a feeling.”

“Well, lucky for us that you had feelings.” Fives ruffles your head and Kix throws his hands up in the air with exasperation. 

“Be careful with her!” Kix tells him. “She’s gone through enough-”

“Aw, come on, Kix. She can handle a 501st boy, can’t ya?” Fives elbows you teasingly and you give him a playful glare, going absolutely warm in the face. 

“Alright. Visitation is over.” Kix starts to usher out his brothers. “She needs some rest.”

“Yeah, she does!” Fives grins. “Especially for later.”

Fire creeps into your cheeks with thoughts of a certain captain and his promise of tonight. “Later?” 

“Yeah, when we take ya to 79s to celebrate you not being dead.” Hardcase says, a little loudly.

79s. The clone bar. The bar you’ve thought about many times throughout your multiple watches, always wondering what it would be like to get to see the men you care about let loose after their endless days and nights on the battlefield. They deserve to have fun and be carefree, for however long that may be. 

“Is that okay Doctor Kix?” You smile.

How easy it is to tease and joke with him, as if you’d been friends for a lifetime and not just a mere few days. Now whether or not it has to do with the fact that you’ve watched the show countless times or because you’ve apparently had a whole life here before you “arrived”, you’re not sure. All you can do is go along for the ride, right? 

He rolls his eyes with his signature smirk. “Sure. As long as you get some rest now.” 

“You heard him, boys.” You shrug, teasingly. 

One by one, each man files out after giving you some sort of well wishes. It’s incredibly sweet how each man cares for you, making you feel like you truly belong. You never had this sort of connection with people in your other life. 

When they leave, you lay there for a while, listening to the low hum of the cruiser, still unable to believe that you’re actually here.

You’re in Star Wars… Wow.

The urge to get up and explore is strong. But you promised Kix that you would rest. And you can only assume you’ll be back on Coruscant soon, so there’s no point in upsetting him. 

But still… you’d be lying if you said a part of you wasn’t afraid to go to sleep here… Will you be transported back into your other life? Or perhaps worse?

You lay there for a while, staring up at the durasteel ceiling as Kix comes in with a data pad. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” He comes to the edge of the bed.

You sit up, crossing your legs. “I’m afraid to go to sleep.” 

He nods, understanding. He and Rex are the only ones who would. “I made up this data pad for you. Information about you before you kinda popped into your own life here. And, your bag of clothes. There should be some civies in there.” 

“Civies?”

“Non military clothes.” He chuckles.

He hands you the data pad and the bag, and you take them, touched at the gesture.

“Thank you, Kix. This means a lot.” 

“I just… I have one question.” He murmurs. “How do you know what’s going to happen? You never said.” 

You sigh, knowing you weren’t going to be able to avoid this question forever. “This is all a television show where I’m from.” 

“Television?” He looks confused.

“Um… I think they’d be called like holo-shows here?” You try to make him understand.

“Why would anyone want to watch a ‘show’ about us?” He laughs.

You laugh with him. “Lots of people do. Lots of people care about the clones in my reality.”

He sits next to you. “Thank you.” 

You nod and the both of you are quiet for a moment.

“Would you like a tour?” He grins.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You clap your hands together, excitedly. 

Kix lets you run to the bathroom, apparently they’re called freshers, so you can change. You put your bag up on the counter and look inside. Sure enough, there’s a couple pairs of nonmilitary clothes that are your size exactly. 

It still all feels… surreal. 

You try not to dwell on it too much, afraid that you could accidentally go into what Kix called a mental breakdown a few days ago.

A few days… that’s how long you’d been knocked out here. It had only felt like moments…

Snap out of it. Get dressed. Think about something else. Literally anything else. 

Rex comes to mind instantly. Someone who’s given you a sense of calmness in this massive storm. You can’t wait to see him again, you think to yourself as you get dressed and then exit the fresher, finding Kix looking down at his own datapad. 

“Ready.” You smile softly.

He looks up at you, his smile matching your own. “How do you feel?” 

“Better.” You nod. 

“Good. Come on.” He nods towards the door and you follow him out into the hall.

As you walk down the long halls of the cruiser, you can’t help but stare at almost everything in awe. Kix points out the barracks, the mess hall, and the other medbays.

“You know, it might help if you at least try to act like you’ve been here for the last couple years.” Kix teases. 

“I know, I know. It’s just… I’ve dreamt of this moment for… so long.” You confess. 

“So you were… what do they call them?” He snaps his fingers playfully. “A fan?” 

You playfully bump your shoulder into his. “Shut up.” 

“I would ask who’s your favorite but it’s pretty obvious.” He teases again.

“Yeah. Obviously Fives.” You shrug with a smirk as you look in each room in the hall. 

Kix laughs and then looks down the hall. You follow his gaze and see Rex, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Ahsoka Tano coming this way toward you and it takes everything in you to keep it cool. 

You’d already seen Anakin the first day you were here, but now… it’s different. You know you’re not dreaming, and it feels more real.

It truly is like seeing a celebrity. You’ve looked up to these characters- people for so long. And now, here they are in front of you. Life truly did not prepare you for this moment. 

“Generals. Commander.” Kix nods. 

“Kix.” Anakin nods and then murmurs your name. “How are you feeling?” 

“Much better.” You nod. “Uh- General.”

Kix and Rex share a knowing smirk.

“We owe you a thanks for figuring out that Master Krell was working against us.” Obi-Wan tells you.

You nod again. “No problem.” 

“You know, you might be in the wrong profession.” Anakin chuckles.

“I agree, it seems like you could’ve made quite a career in espionage.” Obi-Wan compliments you with a half grin.

You laugh. “Well if there’s anything I can do for you… just let me know.”

“We will.” Obi-Wan nods and starts to walk away with Anakin.

Ahsoka gives you a wave and you wave back, still practically starstruck.

Rex stays behind and smiles down at you. 

“I’ll see you guys tonight at 79s.” Kix grins and walks away. 

For being told he was part of a tv show, he sure is handling the news well. Probably better than you would. 

“Hi.” You smile up at Rex. 

“Hey there.” He nods for you to follow him. “I want to show you something you’ve not seen yet… personally, at least.” 

“Lead the way.” You follow beside him, unable to hide your smile.

Does he know you’d follow him no matter what? You chose this life not only to help save this galaxy from Palpatine, but also for Rex.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, softly, glancing down at you as you walk.

“I’m feeling a lot better.” You promise him.

It’s true. You don’t feel exhausted for the first time in a really long time. You feel more awake. 

“I’m relieved to hear that.” He tells you. 

You don’t realize where he’s taking you until you get to the flight deck. You look at all of the starships, gunships, and walkers, still unable to believe your eyes. When you walk up to one of the walkers, you feel along the side of it, the cool durasteel making you smile. 

When you look back at Rex, he’s giving you an amused smile.

“What is it?” You ask, taking your hand away, self-consciously.

He shakes his head with a shrug. “You’re like a breath of fresh air.” 

“Was I not before?” You tease.

He immediately becomes flustered, trying to figure out what to say. 

“I’m just kidding.” You grin. 

Rex lets out a sigh of relief and nods for you to follow him. 

“This is what I wanted to show you.” He walks up to the ray shield and that’s when you see it. 

The dancing blue hues of hyperspace. Your lips part and a small gasp escapes as you grab onto Rex’s arm, unable to look away from it. You're feeling something so profound that words just can't convey. 

“Oh my god. It’s even better than I imagined it would be.” You think you practically have tears in your eyes. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Sure is.” Rex murmurs. 

Except he’s not looking up at the hyperspace lights. He’s only looking at you.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting  @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

[koffing-time]

Another update guys, two topics this time, one good and one... semi bad?

the good one first though: The Barn is basically finished! The last little things are supposed to be done tomorrow! I might make a photo once it’s done.

// this means i might try myself at drawing, but i will never promise something like that.

This also means that my last few pokémon will finally move in with me. Sorry mom, you can’t keep Carrot Cake any longer!

This ALSO means that there won’t be any hazardous construction vehicles present at the babyshower, so anyone who as worrying about that can now rest easily.

Now the... troublesome news: after spening some god time with the new Pokémon, i have made a few observations. I’ll just go through them one at a time. If anyone has ideas or insight, please please please let me know.

Flit, the Beedrill: He is one of the Pokémon i adopted from the Snowbelle City Shelter. He was described as very energetic, but with low stamina. Something Olivia noticed yesterday, and which i sort of confirmed is, that he seems to get INCREDIBLY active after being called. When left to his own, he still likes to excercise and do mock-battles with my other pokémon, but he is more chill. Like i said in some post before, he seems to be getting along with Coffee, who is usually more... slow. @oh-shinx do you know if this was also noticed at the shelter? I tried calling them earlier, but since they are in Kalos, i think they were closed. Timezones are a bitch. Anyways, it’s known that his old trainer was pushing him too far at times. I’m not sure how to adress this issue, like i said any tips are very welcome. My first instinct would be to maybe give him a new name? “Flit” might remind him too much of his old trainer.

Ultra-Domesticated Trubbish. I have rescued two of them, they seemed decently close. I find them kind of funny looking. They kind of resemble paper bags more like the typical trash bags of a normal Trubbish. They don’t like it when i point my phone at them, so no photo for now. They seem to be somewhat healthy, at least for UDs. They are DEATHLY afraid of water though, so getting them to drink has proven a bit of trouble so far. I’ve made a kind of contraption where they can go to, and with a lever let some water slowly drip out of the bottom, so they can take it slow and make sure it doesn’t get on their body. It’s a bit redneck-engineering though, i’ll have to see if i can make it a bit more stable. I’m hoping they will take a liking to Loaf, my own, normal Trubbish. If they do, he might ease them into drinking a bit more. They also don’t really like to eat trash, which is odd. They go for organic waste instead, which is fine with me, if they don’t get sick from it. I will definitely keep an eye out for that. I’m thinking of calling them “Bun” and “Roll”.

Ultra-Domesticated Mareanie: This is a case that worries me. She is ultra domesticated, i’m sure. I got her from the base yesterday, and she was just like all the others. Playful, afraid of noise, harmless. Today, she was incredibly active. First i was happy. You know, having a UD Pokémon that’s somewhat normal? But after a while, she was worrying me. As you might now, Mareanie are ambush predators. They hide somewhere in the water and wait until something edible comes by. They don’t move much in the wild, at least compared to a lot of other pokémon. This one was running around, jumping in and out of the water, climbing rocks and trees, everything. And what’s even worse is that after a while she started to bite and hit everything and everyone she could reach? Like, that’s not something UDs do. At all. Not one of the UDs i met yesterday put their mouth anywhere near another living creature, and if they picked something up they almost dropped it again because they were so careful with it. In addition, this Mareanie doesn’t have any thorns or spikes and her theeth are so small, she couldn’t even scratch a branch she was chewing on for 30 minutes. I will definitely go to the vet with her tomorrow. Does anybody have an idea what it could be though? (Also not sure of a name for her yet)

Ultra-Domesticated Petilil: This one brings me a new challenge. She is so incredibly fragile. She almost fainted when we went outside into the sun, her leaves browned within like an hour until she got some more water and she has very little energy. She is also very very afraid of all my poison types. Even Muffin, who is very sad because of this. Yesterday, i thought it was because of the general situation, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I don’t think i can keep her, she would just suffer with me. @pkmn-aide-mel You said you could imagine adopting a UD Pokémon? Would you be up for this challenge or should i just go to a shelter to see if they can be a better place for her?

Ampersand, the Sliggoo: I have some better news to wrap this up. He seems way better than all the others i’ve talked about now. He is visibly in pain sometimes, but i was aware that this will happen. It’s because of a condition he has, as he has some kind of half-formed shell. He probably has some Hisuian heritage, and the evoluton process was kinda fucked up or something, So now he has some iron residue in his lower back. It’s not something that can be cured as far as i know, but the pain can be eased with different kinds of medicine. However, he was very slow today and didn’t want to play much with the other Pokémon, but that’s all right. He was just chilling at the pond. I think being in the water might also help with his back. Or maybe he just likes it. Whatever it is, if he likes the pond, i won’t stop him from going there.