#what kind of development are they talking about you ask?

[rancidslime]

This is a really interesting exercise! So, I would argue that an equal execution for maids simply isn't possible in the same way that it is for, say, knights. The way I see it, there are two big reasons wizards lend themselves so well to extreme stylisation, to the point of not needing to show any part of an actual human form.

A) Let's talk about first instincts. The word "wizard" has by now referred to characters of basically ever gender and appearance, but when you hear the word "wizard", the mental image most often conjured up by the word is actually pretty concrete. Long beard, robe, pointed hat. If there's a face, it's nearly always an old white man with a long beard. (I could list the reasons why this image developed, but this is a website full of nerds. I'm sure I don't have to go through a whole genealogy of how the trappings of the modern wizard became codified into pop culture through art and literature.) If someone asked you to "draw a wizard" on a post-it note, you'd probably draw someone who looked basically like Gandalf, plus or minus a few stars on his robe. We all know what a wizard looks like.

B) The traditional trappings of a wizard all heavily obscure the human form; hats, robes, and beards (where included) cover up a lot of the body and face! This means that a stylized wizard can be easily turned into a featureless, genderless collection of symbols with minimal tweaking of the style or design, while remaining self-evidently wizardlike. You can even hide the hands, feet, and face completely - Final Fantasy's black mages are famously one of the best examples of this approach in pop culture.

The maid, by contrast, runs into a two main problems here. So like, yes, we're talking about the meido as cosplay evolution of the figure of the french maid. But one of the issues here is, the meido archetype doesn't have the raw recognition, the crossover appeal, of the wizard. If someone's really into period pieces, they might think of a period-accurate ladies' maid. If they're like, a normie straight dude, they might think of Spirit Halloween lingerie. Someone who has hired a modern maid might think of a person in scrubs, carrying a bucket. The kind of maid we're talking about is a subgenre of what "maids" mean to people, whereas the default image we have of wizards is seen as the progenitor everything else is playing off of. I hope I'm still making sense.

So the meido does have a few necessary signifiers (dress, often but not always black, with white petticoats and an apron, sometimes with a headband). Have you noticed the problem? That's right - the only headgear we recognize as maidlike doesn't obfuscate the head! We talked about how one of the biggest strengths of the classic wizard is that you don't need to show the face if you don't want to - with maids, you don't have that option. There will always be a recognizable human form, even if you opt for the longest skirt possible and give your maid big ole leg-of-mutton sleeves!

Now, that's not to say I don't think you could take it pretty far - you could hide the face with a bonnet large enough to completely conceal the head and face, but between the change in headgear to something rarely actually employed by maid cosplay to the fact that maids of this stripe are usually shown with their hair down, I think that's a little bit of a cheat.

I just saw a wizard-as-fantastical-species shitpost and a maid-as-fantastical-species shitpost on my dash back to back, and now I'm kind of wondering what the maid equivalent of the classic "just a robe, a hat, and a pair of eyes" interpretation of the wizard-as-species would be.

[twilightkitkat]

What if Worst Wolverine was the same Wolverine from Origins? What if he learned that "Deadpool" Wade Wilson was "Weapon X" Wade Wilson?

Inspired by this ask.

---

When Logan first met Wade in the bar, he felt oddly familiar. Like he knew him, but he couldn't quite place where. He felt nostalgia and regret and something else bubbling up to the surface without his consent. It felt foreign, and he brushed it off when he sobered up. But he kept it in the back of his mind.

But he kept being familiar. His voice, the way he fought, his mannerisms... it was all reminiscent of somebody he felt he should know. Someone long gone.

But it couldn't be, right? All of his old teammates were dead. If this world followed a similar timeline, there's no way this could be someone he knew. He must just be grasping at straws. Delusional, as usual.

It all came to a head a few weeks after the dust had settled. Wade and Logan were drinking together in their apartment, and Wade lopsidedly grinned at Logan with flushed cheeks. Logan felt his heart stutter.

"You know, you were just as cool back then," Wade giggled. "You looked good when you were younger, though I think the silver fox look fits you more with the grey streaks."

Logan frowned. "What do you mean when I was younger?"

"C'monnnnn Wolvie," Wade cooed as he leaned his head against his hand. "Back when we were in the Weapon X program together? I mean, we might not have been the best of buddies but it's kind of mean of you to forget about me."

It's like a part of Logan's brain unlocked. Wade fucking Wilson. Of course Logan remembered him, but he was so different that Logan had never made the connection.

Logan had a complicated relationship with Wade. He both respected him and thought he was a nuisance. Wade's skills were undeniable, but so was his motor mouth. Logan groaned in annoyance most of the time, but Wade's quips had managed to pull a snicker out of him on more than a few occasions. He tried to feign annoyance, but despite what people said, Wade was funny. His jokes were one of the only things that brought any life to the dreary and harsh environment.

Back then, Logan had still been tangled up with Victor and didn't let himself get too close to others (for both his own and their sakes). Still, Wade had found him in the corner of a bar a few times when the rest of the team was partying. He'd sat next to him and just... kept him company. He rambled on about inconsequential things, avoiding the more serious topics. He offered a distraction, a reprieve from the constant violence and solemn atmosphere. Logan appreciated it more than he could convey at the time.

And on the rare instances where Logan wanted to talk, Wade listened. Even if it was drunken gibberish, regrets and frustrations and feelings spilling out into the open. More notably, he didn't report him for having second doubts about the missions. Anyone else would've. Logan didn't do friends back then, but he'd consider Wade the closest thing he had to one.

And then Logan had quit. And left behind his teammates, cutting off all chance of further development. And then Logan had returned, but too late. By then, Wade had been turned into that... thing... by Stryker.

Oh god. The thought of it made Logan want to throw up. Wade, always chattering, with his mouth stitched shut. A mindless drone made to obey orders, a complete antithesis to the man who bent the rules and smiled privately at Logan when he rambled about what could be interpreted as treason. A mockery of everything he stood for.

That Wade was... the same as his Wade. Deadpool was Wade Wilson. Wade Wilson now was the same Wade Wilson from back then.

That means in his world, he'd let Wade down. He'd abandoned him and left him to be experimented on. Worse, he'd killed him. Logan killed Wade.

Fuck. The reason he didn't recognize Wade in the bar was because his was long dead. A clone that he himself had killed.

He looked at Wade, blushing and smiling with adoration in his eyes even as he feigned indignation at Logan not remembering. He looked at Wade and imagined him trapped in his own body, personality erased and gone. He imagined him with his mouth sewed shut, never to speak again. With a flat and empty stare instead of the twinkle in his eye.

Wade had saved him from himself. He'd given him a new home and fought for him to keep it. He'd been willing to die for Logan when nobody in his own universe would so much as look at him. Logan owed him an insurmountable debt, one that he couldn't even begin to repay in this lifetime. But he was trying. To make Wade happy, at least. It was his purpose in this world and would continue to be until Wade decided to throw him out or he finally kicked the bucket.

So the realization that he'd failed his own Wade so horribly made him viscerally ill. Even back then, Wade had been the only one to really see him when nobody else did. When even Victor just looked for a distorted reflection of himself and when everyone else wanted a mindless tool, Wade acknowledged Logan.

In a time when Wade didn't owe Logan shit, when he could've gotten in trouble for being complicit if Logan actually went through with what he said, Wade still protected him. And Logan didn't even think to check up on him in return. (Even when he knew Wade checked up on him. The Tylenol and water beside his bunk didn't appear out of nowhere. He didn't even remember climbing into bed before he passed out.)

Logan left him to die. Logan let Wade die. Wade, who was smart and funny and charming and caring and everything Logan was not. Wade, who had all of that stripped from him while Logan got to keep living. Logan, who took that chance and spat on Wade's fucking grave by ruining it all.

Logan wanted to throw up.

[vigilskeep]

did you sacrifice Neve or Bellara and what was the in game/out of game thought process? also which ending did you get with solas???

bellara!!!

i feel like ““sacrifice”” is a bit harsh jgshsjsksk. it felt important—to ME—that sol trust bellara in this final moment, and let her take a risk.

i mentioned not long ago that sol never wanted to tell bellara what they actually thought because they didn’t want to hurt her feelings. they worry this is condescending because, well, it is. going into bellara’s personal quest, that was absolutely their mindset: they don’t have to be pushy and insist bellara accept the truth that cyrian is evil, because they can simply be there to stop cyrian for her, thus protecting her from all emotional duress and physical harm. then they get completely blindsided when bellara actually convinces cyrian! it was a pretty arc-altering, eye-opening moment for sol for a lot of reasons. they should have had faith in bellara, and recognising that she was right and they were wrong challenges their core beliefs that people don’t change and don’t act against their own interests and you only have yourself to blame if you expect anything other than human nature and then inevitably get hurt. if sol was in bellara’s position, they would have killed their cyrian when they didn’t have to.

(this is a pretty unsettling thought, given that a) in their backstory, they have killed someone they loved before, probably without giving them the chances that bellara did, and b) they have something like a brother, who they usually assume the worst of, without having ever really just asked him certain things and given him a chance to speak for himself)

so it felt like the correct development, to me, to have sol rely on bellara in this crucial moment. (as an aside, also the correct development to protect neve, which sol previously failed to do.) they’ve grown to have faith in her judgement, rather than see her as naive and try to cushion her from the fight! i was thrilled with the result. it felt so right to have a brilliant young dalish mind in that position in the final battle. the alternative would be strange to me especially with a human rook in the picture too

this actually leads directly into the answer to your other question, because sol (perhaps surprisingly) gave solas a shot at redemption! and the arc that bellara’s personal quest ties into is really crucial there. sol has always wanted to believe that people can change their nature. obviously, it would be ideal for them if people could, because sol wants to believe they can one day leave the crows without it destroying everything they care about. it felt like a fitting ending for them to let solas try. it felt like an arc, considering that sol previously has always, always chosen to punch first and talk later. just once i wanted them to give someone a chance. and also to not jump at another shot to make something a physical confrontation and get themself killed! mental health win! for once, they didn’t want another fight, they just wanted everyone who still could, including themself, to get to go home. (lucanis dellamorte, the effect your big pleading brown eyes have.)

it’s what made this a hopeful open ending, to me. after all, if sol can change the dread wolf’s path, how can changing the fate of one little crow feel as impossible?

(they’d still be messed up about it though, it was not an easy choice and i was sat there for a minute. like i said in my other post, solas fucked them up. and they feel they might have betrayed harding. they were the one who convinced her to embrace her anger! and then she died, trusting them, and they just... let solas go? what kind of loyalty is that?)

[cyarikaplease]

if i could give you the moon

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You move into a new neighborhood and decide to join the local YMCA to meet people, bringing you to Joel Miller and his wife, Liz. You develop a small crush on him, keeping it to yourself. But when he reveals to you that he’s in open marriage, you decide to take a chance on him, no matter the consequences.

Warnings: lots of angst and smut

You’re standing in a long line at the YMCA waiting to sign up for a membership. It’s kind of crowded and you’re wondering if this is a bad idea. But then again the Y is so close to your new apartment. It would be kind of pointless to sign up for a membership somewhere else that’s farther away and probably more expensive. So you wait until it’s your turn. The woman sitting at the desk hands you your little YMCA card for your keychain and says, “The gym is upstairs and the pool is down the hallway on the left. Both have locker rooms attached.”

You nod and head down the hallway, pushing past the doors into the pool room. The strong scent of chlorine hits your nose as you enter and your feet make a splish sound when you walk on the wet tile. You spot the door to the locker room on the other side of the pool, scanning the room as you do but trying to make it not look like you’re staring at people. The truth is you just want friends. You’re new to the community and eager to make friends. And the Y seemed like a great starting point for new friendships. 

It seems to be mainly women at the pool today which makes you feel a little more comfortable. You go into the locker room and change into your swimsuit. And that’s when you meet a woman a little older than you named Liz who’s using a locker two spots down from you.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” she says, not looking at you while she changes into her swimsuit. 

“Just joined today,” you respond. 

“I’m Liz Miller,” she says, turning to you and holding out her hand, “My husband and I come here.”

You tell her your name and ask, “Do you live in the neighborhood?”

“A few streets over. You?”

“My building’s two blocks away.”

“Nice. Are you new in town?”

“Ahh so you don’t know anyone. Well I’ll be your swimming buddy today.”

“Sounds good to me,” you tell her, following her back out to the pool.

You get in the pool without needing to adjust to the temperature; it’s already pretty warm. You swim laps with Liz, stopping occasionally to talk in between. Your eyes burn from the chlorine and you make a mental note to pick up goggles. She tells you about her husband, Joel. He works in construction and she works in advertising. She’s leaving for a work trip tonight for two weeks in New York City. Your first friend and she’s already leaving for two weeks. Looks like it's back to square one for now. Eventually it’s time for her to go and you’re feeling a little winded anyway. You get changed back into your t-shirt and gym shorts in the locker room and skip using their shower. You live two blocks away so what’s the point in showering here. You walk back out to the lobby together and that’s when you meet Joel. 

You’re taken aback for a moment at just how good looking he is, even under the shitty fluorescent lights in the lobby. His hair is a little damp, presumably from sweating after a good workout. His facial hair is a bit patchy but it’s endearing.  His warm brown eyes feel like they’re staring directly into your soul as he shakes your hand, his touch lingering just a little too long. But Liz doesn’t seem to notice. You notice that he’s not wearing his wedding band although Liz is wearing hers. Maybe he just forgot to put it back on after working out? It’s a shame he’s married because he’s totally your type. But you’re just glad to have two new acquaintances. 

“Now you have two familiar faces here,” Liz says, smiling at you. 

The three of you walk out to the parking lot together but they go to separate cars. You get the sense that they don’t seem like a couple that’s codependent on each other. Or they both came here straight from their jobs. Who are you to judge? You just met them. You have no idea what the dynamic of their relationship is like.

You walk home as the sun starts to set. It’s a warm evening in late June and the Y membership is about to come in handy when you need to cool off from scorching summer heat. You go home and take a shower before winding down for the evening and heading off to bed.

Work goes by pretty slowly the next day. You’re anxious to swim or even work out in the gym to exert some of your stress. You’re also just eager for a chance to make more friends. You come from work and change into work out clothes, bringing your swimsuit with you in your bag. You walk to the Y and contemplate working out in the gym but opt for the pool instead. You change in the locker room and step into the pool. It’s pretty dead tonight. There’s only 3 other people swimming in this ginormous pool with you. You swim a few laps by yourself before getting bored and deciding to leave. But as you get out of the pool you notice none other than Joel Miller walking through the door on the other side of the room. He catches you looking at him and immediately walks directly towards you. You feel a little self conscious for a moment at the fact that you’re greeting him in your sopping wet swimsuit that’s clinging to your body. 

“Hey, how are you?” he smiles. 

“I’m alright! Did Liz leave last night?”

“She did. She left around one in the morning.”

“Damn that’s late. Aren’t you tired from driving her to the airport?”

“Nah, she took a taxi.”

Maybe your suspicions about them not being codependent were right afterall?

“But anyway I came to check on you before I left for the night.”

“You’re sweet. I was just about to change and leave, too.”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby,” he says, gesturing back towards the door.

“Uh, sure! I won’t be too long,” you say before turning and walking to the locker room, maybe speedwalking just a tad. For some reason you got the sense he was staring at your ass as you walked but you didn’t dare turn around and look. You dry off and change into your clothes hastily before walking to meet Joel in the lobby, butterflies swelling in your stomach for some reason. 

You meet him in the lobby with a big smile on his face, drinking in the sight of you with your flushed and hair wet. 

“Get a good workout in?” he asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“I did. It was a lighter workout for me today.”

“That’s nice… Well I’ll see you around?”

“Mind if I walk you home?”

You’re taken aback at first because why would he want to do that? But then age you don’t know the neighborhood that well yet and it is getting dark out. But you also only live two blocks away so what’s the point of him walking you home. 

But before you can contemplate it even more you say yes. 

And so you’re walking to your apartment side by side, not really saying anything at first until you can’t bear the uncomfortable silence anymore. You make small talk until you reach your building.

“Well, this is me,” you say, stopping in front of the door to your apartment building.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” he asks.

“Uhh not much. I have a new bookshelf I’ve been meaning to build since I moved in. Maybe I’ll start that tonight?”

“I can help with that,” he says, taking a step towards you. 

You gulp at the idea of Joel Miller alone with you in your apartment. This really isn’t a good idea. But he’s the one who offered. And you can have him leave straight after it’s done. 

“S-sure,” you say.

You lead him through the hallways and flights of stairs in your building until you reach your place. You slide the key into the lock and go inside, holding the door open for him as he enters. 

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess. I’m still not one hundred percent moved in yet,” you say, feeling a little self conscious at the state of your apartment. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” he shrugs, “Now where’s this bookshelf?”

You bring him into your bedroom of all places and point to the flat cardboard box leaning against the wall.

“There. As you can see I haven’t even attempted it.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckles.

You sit on the edge of your bed as he goes to work. You watch him construct your bookshelf little by little before you ask if he needs anything.

“Want a bottle of water?” you ask, rising from the bed. 

“Sure,” he says, looking up at you from his position on your floor.

You go into your kitchen and grab a cold bottle of water from your fridge. You go back into your bedroom and crouch down on the floor to hand it to him. And that’s when he locks eyes with you, staring at you intently until his lips suddenly come crashing into yours. 

You pull away immediately and shout, “What the hell?! You’re married! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Hey,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’m in an open marriage.”

You raise your eyebrow in disbelief but before you can say anything he speaks first.

“I’m being completely serious,” he says, his big brown eyes pleading with you.

It’s not completely unbelievable. Some of your friends were in open relationships. You yourself have never been in one and you’ve never been with someone that is. But deep down, you want him and he seems sincere. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before I just did that. I understand if you want me to leave,” he says, starting to get up.

You sigh.

“No you can stay… but you’re right, that would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

“Does that mean I can do it again?” he whispers, his eyes searching your face for an answer.

You close your eyes and the butterflies swell in your stomach again. Somewhere in your mind there’s a small voice telling you this is a bad idea. But it’s small enough that you ignore it.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He lips meet yours again as he presses you against the edge of your bed. His tongue grazes your lips, begging you for access. And when you give it to him his tongue explores your mouth as his hands caress your face. You kiss him back and slip him a little tongue, too, but it's clear that he wants to be the dominant one. You give in and let him as his mouth, face and hands completely overtake you. He pulls away for a moment and you two look into each other’s eyes. Almost as if you’re reading each other’s minds you both stand up and move to the bed. You lay down and your chlorine crusted hair splays out on the pillow. You silently wish you got to shower and shave before this happened. A sexual encounter with your new acquaintance was not in the plans for tonight. 

He pulls his shirt over his head and removes his shorts before hovering over you. You take in the sight of his naked body, tanned skin peppered with beauty marks. His legs are toned and muscular just like the rest of him. But what he does have is a small pudgy belly that maybe doesn’t particularly match the rest of his physique but is still attractive nonetheless. His large hands move up your thigh and underneath your shorts. He slides them off in one fluid motion and moves down to your thighs, spreading them open. He drinks in the sight of your cunt rapidly getting wet in anticipation for his touch. He bends down and licks one long, slow streak up all the way up to your clit. And that’s when you ask, “Are you sure? I didn’t get a chance to shower after swimming…”

“Don’t care,” he murmurs against your core, sending vibrations through you.

You shudder at the sensation and let him continue, relaxing a little. His tongue works small slow circles around your clit as you raise your hips a little, pressing them more on his face in response to his touch. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you even closer into him. With his arms around your thighs you can’t squirm as much but that also lets him press his lips, tongue and nose directly into your cunt, bringing you closer to orgasm. You cum against his face, coating him with your release, soaking his nose, lips, chin… practically the whole lower half of his face. He laps up the rest of your juices before bringing his face by yours.

“You taste so good, darlin’. Ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

You feel your cheeks go hot at his praise. He goes to take off his shorts and asks, “Did you want me to use a condom?” 

“That’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you say, still feeling a little breathless.

He chuckles at the post orgasm inflection in your voice and says, “Okay, darlin’.”

You spread your legs for him and he gathers your release from your cunt on his fingers. You shudder at the sensation. He slicks his already hard cock and aligns himself with your entrance, thrusting into you slowly until you take all of his length. His hands grasp your waist as he begins to fuck you relentlessly, burying his cock deep into you with each slam of his hips. He showers you in praise, telling you how you’re such a good girl for taking his cock so well. All you can do is moan and whimper in response. 

You’re sure your neighbors can hear between the creaks of your bed frame, both of your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. But you’re entirely too blissed out to care. With one last forceful motion of his hips against yours you come undone, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Your orgasm pulsates through your core and sends shockwaves throughout your body. Before both of you know it he’s releasing his load inside you, painting your inside in thick ropes of cum as he lets out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you and immediately starts apologizing but you just laugh.

“That’s what the pill’s for,” you chuckle. 

He lays down next to you on the bed and already starts yawning. 

“You can crash here if you want,” you say, “But you owe me a finished book shelf in the morning,” you chuckle. 

“Whatever you want, darlin’. Tomorrow’s my day off,” he murmurs against you, the sleepiness evident in his voice. 

“Deal,” you whisper, before drifting off to sleep yourself. 

You wake up the next morning wrapped in bedsheets and the scent of Joel Miller as he sleeps pressed against you. The realization of last night’s decisions is setting in and while the anxiety in your gut rises, something about it also feels so right. You peel yourself off of him and go to the bathroom. He stirs and wakes up watching your naked form from behind as he whistles at the sight. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, “Hope you’re ready to build that bookshelf.”

“Oh I’ll get right on it, darlin’,” he says, sneaking up on you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean back against him and close your eyes. All of your anxieties and hangs ups about the situation melt away as he holds you in front of your bathroom mirror. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and goes to work on your bookshelf. You make him a cup of coffee and bring it to him after you brush your teeth. He gets the bookshelf done in no time and the two of you are left with the rest of your Saturday, completely free. You decide to take a shower together, washing each other in this new form of intimacy. You realize he doesn’t have any other clothes to change into so that’s when he has the idea to walk back to the Y, pick up his truck and head back to his house. You throw on your clothes and get ready to walk back to his truck, silently hoping the parking lot wouldn’t be too busy this morning. What would people say if they saw you two walking to his truck together? If he’s in an open marriage, though, does it even matter?

Before you leave he says, “You stay here. I’ll come back for you.”

You nod and wait for him in the lobby of your building. He pulls up front and you hop in the passenger seat. Awkward silence fills the drive until you get to his house. He brings you inside and leads you to his bedroom. You look at the pictures of him and Liz while he packs. You’re staring at a wedding photo when you think to ask, “So how long have you been in an open marriage?”

He pauses for a moment and says, “Only about a year. I found out she was cheating on me and I proposed the idea of an open marriage instead of getting a divorce.”

You’re conflicted. You feel bad for him that he went through that but he also seems happy now, content with his decision on an open marriage as far as you can tell. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “That must’ve been really hard for you.”

“It was,” he replies, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “But I’m doing much better now. I don’t tell a lot of people about the open marriage, though. My friends and family still don’t know because it’ll open a whole line of questioning as to how we got here. And then I’ll have to tell them how she cheated on me and I just… I don’t think I can do that.”

He sounds hurt; betrayed. You turn around to face him and meet his eyes, filled with sadness, and say, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he whispers before kissing you, “Come on. Let’s go have a fun weekend together. I packed enough clothes to get me to work Monday morning.”

“Okay,” you nod, following him back down the stairs. 

At least they don't have kids, you think to yourself. That would make this situation about a million times messier. 

You get back his truck and drive back to your place, the tension in the air dissipated after his heartfelt confession. You spend the rest of the weekend together going through a cycle of fucking, watching TV, showering and talking. You learn so much about him and his background; his family, where he grew up, what he does for a living. He tells you everything and you feel you can tell him everything, too. The connection you feel with him is one you’ve never felt with anyone else before. It almost makes you forget for a moment that he’s married to another woman. 

But now it’s Monday and your fun weekend with Joel has come to an end. He has two long days at work ahead of him so you can’t go to the Y together until Wednesday night. You’re a little sad but you get it. He can’t spend all of his waking hours with you. The next two days drag on and after you get home from work you find yourself feeling lonely. And it doesn’t help that your sheets smell like him. 

But after two agonizingly slow days you finally get to see him again. You walk to the Y with a little pep in your step at the thought of seeing him again. You find him in the lobby and he greets you with a smile.

“I thought I’d swim with you today instead,” he says. 

“Sure,” you tell him before both of you walk to the pool room together, separating as each of you enter your respective locker rooms. You change quickly and meet him by the pool which by some miracle was completely empty tonight. You get in the pool with him and swim a few laps but mainly the two of you spend time messing around. Until he pulls you close and looks you in the eye. The heat of the pool room and his hot breath are almost too much to bear. But then he kisses you and suddenly you forget all about how you are. The kiss grows more and more passionate and you start to worry that someone will walk in and see.  You pull away to tell him to stop but he grabs your hand and leads up the pool steps. 

“What are you doing?” you ask as your bare feet hit the slick tile. 

“Going somewhere more private,” he says leading you to the single stall bathroom on the same wall as the locker rooms. 

“Here?” you question him.

“Why not? It’s empty tonight,” he says, opening the bathroom door, “Ladies first.”

You go in the bathroom and he follows you, locking the door behind him. He wastes no time reaching for the strap of your swimsuit and peeling it off of you. He slides off his swim trunks and you bring your hand to his cock, caressing it lightly to tease him.

“You’re killin’ me, darlin’. Please,” he whispers by your ear.

You giggle and give into him, wrapping as much of your hand as you can around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his eyes in pleasure. 

You love making him feel good and you especially love when he vocalizes it. You spit in your hand and stroke him more, picking up the pace. But before he can finish he stops you and licks his fingers, bringing them to the entrance of your cunt and teasing you this time. You whine at the featherlight touch and beg for more. 

“Doesn’t feel so good huh darlin’?” he teases. 

“Please,” you whine. 

“Fine,” he sighs, sounding fake annoyed before pushing a finger into you slowly. 

You lean back against the sink and spread your legs wider for him, begging for more. He gets off on watching you writhe in pleasure from just one finger before slipping in another. He curls them upwards, emitting soft moans from you as he brings you closer to the edge. But before you can cum he pulls them out of you and slathers his cock with your wetness. You whine at the sudden absence but you’re cut off by the sensation of his cock slamming into you. Your breath hitches and he watches you get adjusted to his size, eyes scanning up and down your body from your face to your tits to your cunt gripping his cock. He supports you against the edge of the sink and pumps into you with more force. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly with every slam of his hips. You know you’re not going to last long between that and the adrenaline of fucking in a public space. Your orgasm washes over you as your cunt grips and releases his cock like a vice. He releases his load into you and you’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum coating your insides. He pulls out of you and places a sloppy kiss on your lips before whispering, “Good girl.”

He helps you stand on your feet and you both go to put your swimsuits back on. 

“I’ll go first, okay?” he says. 

You nod and he swiftly leaves the bathroom, locking the door behind him. You wait a few minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to a thankfully empty pool room. 

“Change and go home?” he says, looking over at you.

You nod and go into the locker room to change, in disbelief that this is your life and that Joel Miller just fucked you in a bathroom at the Y. This would become your routine for the next two weeks until Liz comes home, fucking at the Y, your place and even his. Something about doing it as his house felt slightly wrong though. And you know exactly why but you choose to bury that feeling. 

It’s the night before Liz comes home from her work trip and you’re at your apartment, spending one last night together until he has to go home to his wife. 

“When will we do this again?” you ask hopefully. 

“I’ll let you know when, darlin’,” he says with the gentlest tone. 

You nod and your stomach starts to hurt, worrying at the possibility that this was it for the two of you. 

Liz is officially home and you’ll see her at the pool tonight. You have mixed feelings about it. Two weeks ago you would’ve been excited to reunite with your new friend. But now after learning everything you know you’re not sure about how you feel about her. 

You walk to the Y and your legs feel like jelly. You’re also nervous to face her again after everything that happened with you and Joel and it makes you wonder… Did he tell her about the two of you? Is he planning on it if he hasn’t already? Regardless, you're not going to be the one to tell her. He’s the one married to her; he can do it himself. 

She greets you with a warm smile in the locker room, commenting about how she was in need of a good workout. You just smile and nod, for fear that if you open your mouth you’re going to spill everything to her. 

You swim together and keep the conversation mainly about her work trip. She tells you she has to go on another one in two weeks and you fear that that will be the next time Joel will want you. 

You finish your laps and change in the locker room before meeting Joel in the lobby. He treats you differently around her, like he did when you first met him two weeks ago. You watch them walk to their separate cars before walking home. The realization hits you on the way back. He’s not going to be yours for at least two weeks. 

You were correct in your assumption. The second Liz leaves he’s calling you up, asking if he can come over. And you give in without thinking. 

You open your door when he arrives and let him in before asking, “How long is she gone this time?”

“Just a week,” he says softly. 

Before the mood can shift into a more depressing tone he wraps his arms around you and presses wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. You missed him too much to care about how upset you are deep down, letting him take you again tonight. 

You go into your bedroom and he pushes you down onto the bed. He pulls off your shorts and he spreads your thighs apart. 

“God, I missed this so much,” he says before bringing his tongue to your core. 

You close your eyes and grips the sheets for purchases as his tongue works your cunt. He pulls one orgasm out of you quickly and already begins working on the second. He slicks his fingers and inserts them into you slowly before returning his tongue to your clit. It’s almost to the point of overstimulation until your second orgasm washes over you. You coat the lower half of his face and his hand all the way down to his wrist with your release. He lays on the bed next to you as your thighs continue to shiver from the aftershocks of your high. You go to reach for the waistband of his shorts but he stops you.

“Tonight’s just you darlin’.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhmm. Missed you so much.”

You kiss his cheek and fall into the crook of his neck. He rubs your back as you two catch up, telling each other about the past two weeks without one another. You missed him so much and the voice in your head is small enough to ignore it again.

And this becomes your routine for the summer. Whenever Liz is away Joel is yours. Sometimes she’s gone for a couple weeks at a time. Sometimes it’s just a few days. She’s also not always going away for work either. Joel tells you she visits her boyfriend, too. Which in return makes you less guilty about your situation with Joel. But you also feel weird about becoming her friend so you keep her at an arm’s length, beget letting the friendship transcending past the Y. You’ve made other friends in the process, though, upstairs in the gym. You use the gym on the days you know for sure that he won’t be there, usually Mondays and Tuesdays. 

One day as you’re on the elliptical a girl named Julien strikes up a conversation with you. She’s a year older than you and she introduces you to her girlfriend, Angela. Another day when you’re using the pool, you meet an older woman, old enough to be your grandmother, named Agnes. She does water aerobics to keep herself active in her older age. She tells you that you remind her of her granddaughter. She’s one of your favorite people to spend time with. Another day as you’re walking through the lobby as you’re leaving you accidentally bump into a woman named Marina. She’s a teacher at the local elementary school. Sometimes you’ll join her for happy hour after work. Even if you’re in a messy situation with Joel you’re glad that you finally have a small cluster of friends. But the thing is… They’re all close to Liz in some way. Marina went to the same sorority as Liz. Agnes’s husband worked with Liz’s father. And Julien is Liz’s cousin. None of them have mentioned anything about Liz and Joel being in an open marriage. But then you think back to what Joel said; about keeping it on the down low and that quells your anxieties… for now. 

This routine brings you all the way to the start of fall. Joel’s birthday passes and Liz is home for that, meaning you can’t celebrate with him until her next work trip in a few days. She’ll be gone for five days this time. 

He wants you to stay with him while she’s gone and you reluctantly agree. You’ve never spent more than one night at his place. But the truth is… you’ve fallen in love with him. And you would do anything to make him happy. 

You pack your bag and he picks you up at your apartment. The drive to his place is tense and the tension follows you all the way up to his bedroom where it finally dissipates.

You push him down onto the edge of the bed for him to sit. You slide his pants down where you see his cock pitching a tent in his boxers, a dark spot forming where the pre cum is leaking. You pull down his boxers and waste no time taking him in your mouth as far as he can go. Your hand wraps around the part you can’t fit. You swirl your tongue around his head and your other hand goes to cup his balls. You want to suck him until completion but he has other plans. He pulls you up his face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss before falling onto his back. And you know exactly what he wants. You pull your shirt over your head and take off your pants, straddling him until you sink onto his cock. Both of you sigh at the sensation and you begin to rock your hips against him. His cock is buried deep inside you and with every motion of your hips it hits you at the perfect angle. Your hands are flat on his chest and his hands grip your waist, squeezing you until you cum around him, soaking his cock and groin with your wet release. You’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum spilling into you before you hop off of him and lay down beside him. 

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head. 

You’ve never been with someone that made you feel so loved and valued like Joel has. And that’s what breaks your heart the most. This is the greatest love you’ve ever known and he’s married to someone else. 

You fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up the next morning to go to the Y. You tell him to drop you off at your place so you can walk there, so it doesn’t look suspicious. But he doesn’t care. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Someone is going to catch you two together and you know it. And it begs the question… is it really an open marriage if he has to hide you from everyone in his life? That thought has crossed your mind before, of course. But you’ve been able to bury that feeling down… until now. 

He pulls into the parking lot and you scan it for anyone you may know. But that’s pointless. Everyone here knows Joel and Liz are married. 

You get out of the truck the whole walk to the front door your head is spinning in different directions in paranoia. Joel brings a hand to the small of your back as you walk in. The automatic doors slide open and you see no one you know fortunately. 

You go to the pool together and walk to the locker rooms, there’s small clusters of people spread about but again no one you know. You get changed in the women’s locker room and your paranoia worsens. You step back out to the pool room and your ears start ringing. You’re on the brink of a panic attack. Joel takes one look at you and immediately knows something’s up. He pulls you into the single stall bathroom that you’ve fucked dozens of times in and caresses your face. He doesn’t have to say anything. He knows you’re not doing well and all he can do is hold you. Just when you think you’re about to calm down the door opens. He forgot to lock it. And you see none other than Julien staring at you wide eyed and mouth agape. She doesn’t know what to do for a moment and you’re both staring back at her while she stares at you. You feel like you’re gonna throw up. Suddenly she turns on her heel and bolts. Without thinking you follow her and she goes all the way to the parking lot. She stops and turns to face you, tears springing in her eyes. 

“Don’t tell me it’s true,” she says.

What did she mean by that? Were guys suspected of being involved? Were you guys not careful enough?

“I… You don’t understand. He told me they’re in an open marriage. I never would’ve…” you trail off, but you can’t lie to her. 

She scoffs and says, “Did you really fall for that? You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid. He’s already cheated on Liz once and that was his lie the first time.” 

You feel complete panic overtake you in its purest form. Everything you’ve built, every friendship you made feels like it’s all coming crashing down on you. 

She goes to leave and you go to follow her again before she turns and snaps at you, “Don’t!” 

You watch her get in her car and drive off and you’re left in the parking lot, completely dumbfounded. 

You go back inside as you start profusely sobbing, trying to make it back to the locker room with your head down. You feel like everyone is staring at you; like you have a million eyes all hyper focused on you. You don’t see Joel when you return to the pool room but in all honesty he’s the last person you want to see right now. You hastily change in the locker room and go to leave the pool room and that’s when you spot Agnes in the shallow end. She doesn’t even have to say anything, she has the most disappointed look on her face. Tears sting your eyes once again and you practically run out of there and into the parking lot. You stop for a moment to catch your breath before taking off down the street towards home. You reach your door and your hands are shaking as you insert the key. You fall into your apartment and collapse onto the floor. The shock and betrayal you feel right now is indescribable; it’s a pain you’ve never known before. You lost the person you love and all of the friends you’ve made. All of it slipped away from you right before your eyes. 

Not only are you feeling betrayed, you’re also feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. You gave him the greatest love you’ve ever given another person and it was all built on lies. And you feel stupid for falling for those lies. 

You hear your door open but you don’t bother to look up. You know it’s Joel but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He collapses on the floor and pulls you into him. But you’re falling apart in his arms. He’s holding you like you’re going to slip away from him; like you’re water in his hands and he can’t keep you whole. Your tears are soaking his shirt and you can feel him crying against you, too. 

Somewhere inside you you know that he never understood the love you gave him. He’s crying but he doesn’t understand why. 

To you, your love was your greatest gift to him. But to Joel, it was anything but. 

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet

word count: 1767 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: some swearing

It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the barely hidden stares and whispers surrounding you. You looked up to check if maybe you were just imagining things but the hastily averted eyes and hush of voices solidified your suspicion that you were once again the talk of the town. It happened many times before that you, the chubby foreigner with the mediocre grades but big opinions during seminars, were subject to gossip and after a year of studying in Tokyo, you were somewhat used to it. The gossip died down a few months after your arrival only to spike exponentially when the handsome middle blocker of the varsity volleyball team came up to you one day during lunch and with a disarming smirk that belonged on the pages of scandalous romance novels simply sat down across from you, asking if you enjoyed the miso soup that was hardly touched and by now stone cold on your tray. Oblivious to any kind of possible flirting you just shrugged and went back to your phone when a long finger tapped gently on your knuckles to get your attention. Matsukawa tilted his head a little and asked if you’d like to study with him later in the library and you agreed and it all just developed from there. He did have to spell it out for you that he was interested since you just assumed that he was being nice like most guys you talked to but you quickly came into the dessert-like luxury of being acknowledged as his girlfriend, fingers entwined, him pulling your legs over his lap when you lounged on a bench on the university grounds, talking about anything and nothing for six glorious, sunny months. You were in fact waiting for him right now, keeping your backpack on the seat next to you just in case someone dared to plop down. Giggles and pointing now joined the stares and whispers and frowning a little you pulled out your phone to text your boyfriend how long he’d be.

“Sorry! Sorry. Hey, I said sorry, now shoo~“ Your tall glass of water of a man shuffled through the row of seats a minute later and a little out of breath from running over from another building got comfortable and produced his laptop from his messenger bag. “Thank you, beautiful.”, he panted when you brought the straw of your iced coffee to his lips.

“What’s up?”, he asked when you didn’t lean in as usual for a kiss. Following your gaze he looked around the lecture hall. Some people quickly turned the other way again while others just blatantly continued their gawking.

“What’s going on?”

“No idea but I feel like it has something to do with me.”, you said quietly. Slouching further down in your chair you added, “Maybe some stupid rumor again in the class forum. Like last time when they thought I only have one pair of pants because most of my jeans just have the same cut.”

“Well, better check it out so I can vehemently defend my girl against any and all evil doings that are being evil done.”, he said chivalrously and grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. But after a bit of typing you saw all color drain from his face. His usually relaxed half hooded eyes widened in shock and he quickly locked the screen.

“Babe.”, you gave a nervous chuckle, “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

You raised a brow. “You do realize that I also have access to that site and can check myself.”

Slowly, very very slowly he handed you his phone and with a few swipes it unlocked.

Sure enough the community forum of your year was open and a set of screenshots from a group chat was pinned to the very top.

You recognized one of the profile pictures. It was Issei’s old one before he changed it to a photo of you and him kissing at a lake.

Your boyfriend meanwhile sat silently next to you, staring at his hands.

Three minutes passed in which the air around became thick with tension.

You swallowed the impossibly large lump that had formed in your throat while you read, then stared ahead at the many other students now obviously waiting for you to react.

But you were not about to give them the satisfaction. You tossed the phone back into your … into Matsukawa’s lap and having no patience to put your things away, just grabbed tablet, notepad, pen and phone awkwardly in one hand, your backpack in the other and got up.

“Please let me out.”, you said calmly.

“Y/n, I-“

“I said, let me out.”

Matsukawa stood up to let you pass, so did the other people in your row. You felt your eyes burn but you willed yourself not to cry or breathe until you left this room.

Stoically, you walked up the few steps towards the double doors when you heard shuffling behind you and a hand grabbed your wrist. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

“Princess, please-“

You yanked yourself free and reached for the handle.

“Mr Matsukawa, Miss L/N.”, the voice of the professor who had finally arrived stopped you in your tracks, “May I remind you that in order to pass my class you need an 80% attendance rate? Especially you, Mr Matsukawa, if you leave now I’m going to have to fail you.”

Grim satisfaction filled your head when you pushed open the door to leave him behind.

He should stay like a good boy. He should have the decency to give you a head start to go to his dorm so you could collect every single thing you ever left there and you began to wonder if you’d need one or two trash bags for all the crap he kept in your room.

But much to your surprise the door behind you didn’t close as quickly as you thought. Familiar footsteps caught up to you.

“Y/n, it’s not what you think.”

Your heart began to sting and twist; the tears, no longer under your control, streamed down your plump cheeks when you spun around.

“Alright.”, you began, letting out a quivering breath to steady your voice, “Tell me. Explain to me why you obviously making a bet with your jerky friends about getting me into bed is not what I think. Oh, and make sure you use small words for the foreigner. Go on. Make me laugh.”

“Gorgeous-“

“Don’t call me that.”

He flinched. He looked small, kneading his hands like that, head ducked between his shoulders and staring at your shoes.

“Y/n…”, he said but then fell silent.

“That’s what I thought. Don’t talk to me. Don’t call me. Don’t come near me ever again.”

You turned on your heel and not caring about the highly entertained grin some passersby threw your way you hurried out of the building.

Issei looked after you for a long while, then he returned to the lecture hall.

You lay on your bed, arm over your eyes and heating pillow on your tummy. Ever since this morning you hadn’t been able to eat anything and were now paying the price for trying to keep down an old milk bread bun you had found squashed at the bottom of your backpack. Without all of Matsukawa’s stuff cluttering your side of the room it felt a lot emptier. All the plushies from the arcade he’d won for you, his spare Pyjamas (kept hidden under your bed) for when your roommate was out of town, a bouquet of flowers, impulsively picked from someone’s front yard that you had pressed and framed, a tattered old jersey from his high school team he left for you as a makeshift pillowcase so you could breathe him in if he couldn’t be with you - all of that was stuffed into a bulging black trash bag by the door. It genuinely surprised you that your phone had stayed silent all day. In the very back of your mind, a small unwelcome part of you had hoped that he’d try to talk to you despite your warnings. That he would try to explain himself and get you back but then again it had all just been a game to him, right?

The rustling of paper had you sit up. A folded note slipped under your door. You got up to investigate. The handwriting, almost illegible chicken scratches, and almost illegible, was unmistakable. Fighting the urge to read it, you simply crumpled it up and threw it away, proud of yourself. But when you turned to go back to bed, another note appeared.

It looked identical to the first.

“What the…”, you muttered, and as you balled up this new message you called through the door, “Go away!”

But a third note, the same as the first two, swished towards your feet.

You had enough and pulled the door open.

Crouching before you, a stack of paper in his arms, was Matsukawa, arm outstretched with yet another note, ready to deploy apparently.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-“

“Didn’t I tell you that I don’t want to see you again?”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“Technically you didn’t see me. U-until… now.” You glared at him and he quietly added, “Loophole.” in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

“Are you seriously trying to be cute right now?”

“No! Not at all, I- uhm, did you read the message?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Okay, give me five minutes to explain. Please!”

“What’s there to explain? Your dumb friend offered you a dumb bet and your dumb ass accepted it. With zero hesitation, might I add.”

“Yes, but-“

“Did you get the money?”

“What?”

“You heard me, did you get the money?”

“I… yes.”

“Did you feel guilty for getting the money?”

“Babe- I mean, y/n”, he quickly swerved after seeing you seething with rage at the nickname, “the money didn’t matter! I was hopelessly in love with you the moment you pushed Makki into the pool.”

He shuffled half a step closer to you and took a whole one back again when you frowned.

“That party was in July. We started dating in the spring. So for the first half of our relationship you were just pretending?”

“N-no! That’s not what I - no!”

“Take your shit and get out of my sight!”

“Listen to me, I won’t let you go! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I know I don’t deserve you but please don’t leave me! I love you, y/n!”

“Goodbye!”

And after chucking the trash bag into his face you slammed the door shut.

art: I wasn’t able to find out who the OG artist was. If you know, please lemme know and I’ll add

[mae-lou-ron]

Keeping You Around

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Summary: Commander Wolffe's assignment to embark on a reconnaissance mission takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself paired up with you—a development he was far from prepared to deal with.

Word Count: ~3,700 (it was supposed to be like 500 but again, brevity is not my strength, okay?)

CW: Fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury mentioned, mando'a nickname, mutual pining, idiots in love arguing, stubborn Wolffe is stubborn. (Can read as GN!reader. Wearing a flight suit and having hair long enough to be in their face are the only descriptions)

A/N: Real talk I wrote this in about 3 hours last night. Barely proofread bc I’m a dangerous woman trying to stop falling down editing rabbit holes at 3am. Lots of familiar tropes and scenarios ahead, but my goal was to practice writing conflict dialogue and thought Wolffe would be fun to try. Inspired to write this while watching Nick and Jess argue in New Girl S1E22 😜

Feedback is welcome, but please be constructive/kind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cyar'ika!" Wolffe's voice boomed through the dilapidated hangar, the sudden sound of it nearly making you drop your spanner. "Cyar- Maker… there you are. What is wrong with you?!" Wolffe demanded as he strode over to you from a room off to the side, angrily trying to get his pauldron to snap back into place.

"Ah, Commander, I see you’ve regained consciousness," you said drily, not looking up from the panel you were rewiring. Your hands were growing tired, just like the rest of you from the tedious task of fixing the power supply in hopes of getting a signal out to the 104th.

"Care to explain why I woke up in a strange room with half my kit off?" Wolffe demanded, his voice a dripping with irritation.

"Because you were much easier to drag without it… and I needed to make sure you weren't bleeding internally while you were unconscious," you said matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry—if I had time to wait for you to come around, I would have asked," you said, your voice losing its edge incrementally as you met his eyes for the first time. “Not like you would have admitted you were injured anyway,” you muttered under your breath.

He regarded you carefully, his expression severe. You could see his mind racing through a hundred scenarios while he’d been unconscious, though thankfully none had come to pass. His ARC trooper instincts kicked in as his eyes scanned the space for potential threats.

"Relax," you sighed. "I cleared the place, there's no one here. By the state of things I don’t think anyone has been here for a long time,” you gestured around to the various consoles and furniture covered in a thick layer of dust and debris. “Except for the scurriers, at least,”

"When… where's the shuttle?" he turned his head towards the closed hangar doors. No shuttle in sight.

"About 5 klicks east where we crashed it…" The panel before you flickered a few times, the power pulsing it to life before it cut out again. "Dank farrik!" you swore and kicked the side of it as the last of your patience with the blasted thing finally left your body. "It's no use, I can't keep the power on long enough to start anything up," you grumbled as you pulled yourself to your feet, wiping your hands on your flight suit in frustration.

When you looked up at Wolffe, he was staring at you with the same unreadable expression. His brow furrowed slightly as he took in your disheveled appearance and the scattered tools around you. His hands perched on his belt, mismatched eyes glittering.

"What?" you shrugged, slightly unnerved by his stern gaze.

"Where we crashed it, Lieutenant?" Wolffe's deep voice thick with implication. "The last thing I remember is you ignoring my direct order to put the ship down in that clearing."

"If I had, the clankers would have advanced on our position, cutting off what looked like the only civilian escape route,” you countered. "Landing further away drew them to us instead…it wasn’t part of the plan to get shot down…" you added as you remembered the chaos of the crash. The impact had been jarring, a barrage of tree branches cracking against the hull like breaking limbs. A second impact threw an already off balance Wolffe into one of the panels, knocking him out.

You managed to keep the shuttle in the air long enough to find a patch where the trees thinned out. In all honesty, it wasn't even your worst landing to date. As soon as it stopped moving, you immediately went to Wolffe. The shuttle was trashed, but you thanked the Maker one of the speeders stowed within it had survived. With great difficulty, you dragged Wolffe's unconscious form from the wreck, your muscles screaming in protest as you moved him to a safer distance away. There you were able to quickly assess his injuries, relief washing over you when you found a strong pulse and no signs of severe trauma. A few bruised or broken ribs, maybe, and thankfully he was wearing his helmet in the crash, but you still needed to check him for a concussion.

With Wolffe secured, you turned your attention to finding shelter, knowing that staying put wasn't an option. Your initial scans of the area indicated a hidden structure not too far from your position. So, with even greater difficulty, you heaved him onto the back of the speeder with whatever supplies you could quickly grab, and took off to higher ground.

“We’re both alive, relatively unscathed, gave the civilians a chance to escape, I handled it, Wolffe,” you reasoned, annoyed but not surprised at his reaction. Wolffe was a textbook control freak, but over the last year it had become almost endearing to you. Relishing in the way his eyes widened when he was flustered, or how his gravely tone would elevate ever so slightly when you pissed him off.

Like right now.

"Maybe if you listened to orders for once, you wouldn't have had to," Wolffe retorted, through gritted teeth.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, because you're such a shining example of following protocol?" Referring to all the times Wolffe and General Plo bent protocol to keep their men alive, to secure the mission’s success.

"That's different and you know it," he growled, taking a step closer.

"How? How is it different, Wolffe?" you challenged.

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Because I'm trying to keep you safe, dammit."

"And who's been keeping you safe?" you raised your voice slightly, your frustration bubbling. He bristled, but you could tell your words surprised him when he deflected back to you.

“You can’t just keep running into the fray like that, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Ok, that’s actually kinda hilarious coming from you,” you chuckled sardonically.

“You’re not a soldier!…and lately you seem set on going against everything I say trying to keep you alive…”

“Wow, Wolffe. Do you even hear yourself?!” the words came out of your mouth, stopping him in his tracks, scowling at his puzzled expression.

“What?" he snapped in a deep voice. His eyes blazed with both anger and confusion, clearly caught off guard by your outburst. The tension in the air was palpable as you both stood there, locked in a silent standoff.

“I can take care of myself, and believe it or not, I always have, with or without you around,” you growled. “And I don’t appreciate you making me out to be this fragile little thing who needs to be taken care of…I volunteered for this mission, and I dragged your heavy ass here away from the droids while you were taking a nap,”

“I wasn’t aware I was responsible for what happened while I was unconscious, cyar’ika,” his tone filled with warning.

"And I certainly wasn't aware that saving your life would piss you off so badly," you spat, your chest heaving with exasperation.

The tension between you simmered, neither willing to yield. Wolffe had been acting strangely ever since he learned you volunteered for this mission. His behavior grew even more peculiar when you were paired to conduct recon scans for command. It made sense—you were a decorated pilot, and he was a decorated commander—yet his unease was palpable.

While Wolffe is a lot of things, he is not someone who will willingly talk about his feelings. So you stood there, glaring at each other, both too stubborn to acquiesce. You were slowly moving towards one another, your determination coming off you in waves.

“When are you going to stop being so stubborn,” he said, chest puffing out slightly.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to do the same,” you hissed.

“Don’t count on it, cyar’ika.” he took another step in your direction. The clones were already formidable in their presence, but Wollfe’s brightly painted armor made his presence even more powerful. It took you gritting your teeth and clenching your fists at your side to quell the impulses that were firing in your brain. You closed the distance, showing you weren’t going to back down. Not on this.

“Well, Commander, next time I’ll be sure to avoid any missions you’re assigned to, then you won’t have to carry my ‘dead weight’ around…” you half regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue, but you weren’t about to show him that. But you were going there anyway— the words you overheard him say the other night had been gnawing at you since. “Ironic, don’t you think?”

His eyes flashed with anger, but also a realization at your words. For a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a sheepish anger that spoke volumes.

“Yeah Wolffe, I overheard you talking to Rex before we left,” you said as you bit back the fire in your lungs.

Wolffe's conversation with Rex had echoed in your mind, each word a dagger twisting deeper into your heart, fueling your pain. You couldn't shake the feeling, the knowledge that someone you cared for so deeply likely saw you as nothing more than a burden.

His face fell as your words deflated him. “You…” he sighed. “You weren’t supposed to hear that…”

“Clearly. But now that I know how you really feel about me we can stop pretending, so thanks for that I guess,” you looked at the floor, unable to keep the hurt from your voice now.

Wolffe's expression shifted, a sadness crossing his features. He reached out but stopped mid-air, unsure. "That's not... I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. "You have to understand, cyar’ika, the situation is-"

“Will you stop calling me that!?” You nearly screamed, your voice echoing off the bare walls in the hangar. You could have sworn he winced, the only sound being the wind blowing through the cracks in the door. Wolffe opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"I would never speak about you like that, Wolffe, especially not to Rex," your voice was uncharacteristically small as you crossed your arms protectively.

You had considered dropping the mission, faking an injury—anything to avoid this. But Wolffe was still one of your closest friends in the GAR; he'd have seen right through you. So instead, it had lit a fire in you to prove him wrong. You knew it was childish to crave his approval, to want him to be proud of you. But what else could you do when you were desperately in love with the man?

Wolffe's eyes searched your face as he stepped closer, shoulders slumped incrementally, but his voice was low and earnest. "Those words were never meant to hurt you," he softly called you cyar'ika again. You ignored it, waiting for him to continue. "What you heard... it wasn't what you think." He reached out once more, but you stood firm against the pull of his warmth. "Please, let me explain?"

His tone was softer than you'd ever heard from him. A tingle ran down your spine as you glanced at his hand, then back into his tawny eye. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you raised your eyebrows, daring him to continue.

"I'm all ears, Commander."

Wolffe grabbed a nearby stool and pointed at it, which you took only after he took a seat on the stool opposite you. He suppressed another wince with a hand over his ribs, still clearly aching. You’d apply more bacta later, you thought to yourself as your knees nearly bumped his, but you ignored that too as he let out a ragged sigh. Running a hand through his cropped hair, he sent a few tendrils astray and you had to avert your gaze to avoid being distracted by the sight.

"You’re right, I didn't want you to come here with me," he said quietly. When he felt you bristle and open your mouth to protest, he touched his fingertips to your knee, seeking permission before he continued. “But then you volunteered- and what was I supposed to tell you- tell them?”

“You didn’t think I could handle it,” you said softly shaking your head and shifting in your seat with your eyes still on the floor.

"It's not that," Wolffe said, his voice low. He leaned forward, his knuckle gently nudging your chin. When you looked up he was gazing at you with an intensity that made your heart thrum. You could feel the weight of what he was trying to say in his long pause. “I didn’t think that I could handle it,” he confessed, eyes guarded as he gauged your response.

Wolffe's confession caught you off guard, revealing a rare vulnerability beneath his gruff exterior. The bands around your heart loosened as understanding dawned, pieces falling into place. His overprotective nature, steely demeanor, and reluctance to have you on this mission suddenly made sense. Gently, you placed your fingertips over his where they rest on your knee, a silent acknowledgment of this newfound insight. But still, what he said to Rex still had its bitter sting.

“Anything,” you murmured. “Anything would have been better than you letting Rex think I was a liability, Wolffe,”

“I know…I’m…sorry, I can’t even imagine how angry I’d have been if I were you." He paused, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m still angry,” you said quietly, but a glimmer of your softening resolve shine through, and he saw it, his posture relaxing incrementally.

“And I deserve it,” he turned his hand over beneath yours, wrapping his gloved fingers around your palm. The gesture surprising both of you. “I’ll talk to Rex as soon as we get out of here- but I don’t even think I’ll need to once he reads our mission report,” he mused.

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your conversation hanging between you. The anger that had fueled your argument earlier had dissipated, replaced by a different kind of tension. Wolffe's thumb traced gentle circles on the back of your hand.

“I won’t make this mistake again, I promise you,” he said before he brought your hand to his lips, gently pressing them to your knuckles. You felt his breath fan over your skin, making your own breath stop in your throat at this unfamiliar, but not unwelcome side of Wolffe.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you moved your hand from his lips to his cheek. "We've always been quite the team," your eyes locked with his mismatched gaze. “We can protect one another. Together. I don’t need a savior, I just need to know you’ve got my back, as I have yours. I always will…”

Wolffe's eyes softened, a mix of gratitude and admiration shining through. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours in a gentle Keldabe kiss. "Always, cyar’ika," he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. "Together.”

You chuckled softly at his pet name for you. "Wolffe, why do you keep calling me that?" The question had been on your mind for a while, but you'd never asked before. Truthfully, you were afraid to know the answer. You'd always assumed it was some kind of teasing nickname, especially given how his brothers snickered whenever it slipped from his lips around them.

Wolffe shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. A strange and unfamiliar site, but you couldn’t help but smile internally at your ability to unearth this side of him. After a moment, Wolffe seemed to find some resolve. His gloved hand reached up and brushed a stray hair from your eyes. When you looked at his face again you swore you saw pink in the man’s cheeks.

Wolffe can blush? You thought to yourself, eyes growing wide at this information. “It’s mando’a…there are words in basic that would cover it, but it’s…it’s more like a feeling. A sentiment…” he trailed off. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "The closest thing I can think of is…darling, beloved," Wolffe swallowed, his voice low and tender.

The realization dawned on you like a class two Venator crashing down, and between all the tension from the mission and trying to survive on this rock, you could help but burst into a fit of soft laughter.

“What?” Wolffe looked confused.

“So it doesn’t mean ‘idiot’?” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop your giggles.

Wolffe chuckled, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "No, cyar'ika. It definitely doesn't mean 'idiot'." He paused, his eyes crinkling as they met yours.

“I sure feel like one right now,” you murmured, your eyes distant thinking back to some of the times it slipped out in conversation.

“I’m the dik’ut in this case, cyar’ika,” he gazed at you softly, hand brushing another stray hair from your face.

“Well…” you said, leaning in closer. Your skin flushed with the renewed electricity between you. “I suppose it’s alright, now that I know why your brothers have been laughing when you say it…”

Wolffe slapped his forehead. "Kriff," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'll need to have a word with them when we get back." His eyes softened as they met yours again, a hint of amusement dancing in them. "But right now, I'd rather focus on you, cyar'ika." His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin as he leaned in closer. "Have you any idea how long I've wanted to kiss that scowl off your face?" he said softly, his nose brushing against yours. He paused there, giving you time to pull away.

You scowled at him for good measure, “So, what are you going to do about it, Commander?” You whispered, eyes locked on his.

Wolffe's eyes narrowed, something swirling in their depths. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a tentative kiss. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he poured all his unspoken emotions into the gesture. When you finally parted, breathless and redfaced, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Believe me now, cyar’ika?”

"Yes..." you murmured dreamily, your eyes still closed. "But I think I could use a little more convincing," you added, savoring his taste as your tongue grazed your bottom lip. He grinned and leaned in again, this time with more fervor, eager to kiss you properly—to kiss you the way he'd always longed to but never thought he could.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips.

You swallowed thickly, your eyebrows knitting together slightly. “What for?”

He put both of his hands on your cheeks, thumbs caressing your skin lightly. You found your eyes fluttering closed at his touch.

“For saving my life,” he whispered.

Your eyes snapped open. The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but smile, your hand coming up to cover his on your cheek.

“Don’t mention it,” you grinned. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance to repay the favor before we get out of here,” you chuckled.

“At least once, I reckon,” he huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “and about ‘cyar’ika’— I won’t call you that anymore, not if you don’t want me to. It just sort of…slips out…”

You interrupted him by ghosting your lips over his. “Don’t you ever stop calling me that…”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in to kiss you again. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. As you pulled apart, breathless and giddy, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this insane mission had been worth all the trouble after all.

“Now,” he said, reluctantly pulling away. “As much as I’d like to see where this goes, cyar’ika, we should probably get back to finding a way to contact General Plo,” he said with the faintest edge of regret in his voice.

“I would have probably gotten it working if you hadn’t interrupted me,” you teased.

Wolffe chuckled, shaking his head. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we'll never know now." He stood up, offering you his hand. "Come on, let's see if I can get that comm working while you get some rest. I can tell you haven’t slept since the crash," His eyes sparkled with a new affection and familiar determination, reminding you why you'd fallen for this gruff commander in the first place.

“I still need to check you for a concussion…” you pointed your finger into his chest plate as he guided you towards the room he’d just left.

“Oh I think it’s safe to say I am— so you’re just going to have to figure out a way to keep me awake tonight I guess, Lieutenant,” he said dangerously, but his face gave nothing away.

You couldn't help but laugh. "Is that an order, Commander?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow at him. Wolffe's lips curled up in a rare, mischievous smirk as he pulled you closer, his voice low and husky as he murmured close to your ear. "Consider it a personal request, cyar'ika."

[callme-dickmaster]

Basket Case

Ch. Four - Stalking

summary: creepy mistakes lead to the most unlikely of confrontations with unlikely allies cw: this may be v long, afab! reader, minimal use of y/n, bullying, language, noncon nudes, the jonathan situation, author's note: I hope you're all enjoying this story

Wednesday, November 9th, 1983

Nancy played with the hem of the shirt she borrowed from your old clothes. She was happy you had somewhat forgiven her and you could start to be friends now. "What's this song?" Nancy asked, turning up the radio. You looked at her suspiciously, "You like Iron Maiden?" you asked, glancing at the road.

Nancy shrugged, "I like this one?" she giggled.

You chuckled, "It's Run to the Hills. I-I can give you the tape if you want?" you offered, nervously tapping the steering wheel. You sighed, parking your car in the school parking lot.

"You sure you're alright being seen with me? I mean, what if people laugh?" you asked nervously. Nancy grabbed your hand with a smile, "It's okay. We're friends now. And, hey, you get a free pass to throw whatever kind of mustard...sauce mixture you want at me as paycheck," she giggled.

You smirked and rolled your eyes, clambering out of the car and stretching your ankles in your heavy shoes. Nancy waited for you to walk inside, and you walked into school together, ignoring all the stares. You were walking through the halls, talking to Nancy Wheeler of all people with a smile. You separated with a mutual "see ya!" and you sat through your first classes with a yawn.

You stomped through the halls, trying to ignore Eddie inviting you to his band's next gig and sat next to Jonathan like you did every day. "Bologna again?" he smiled, giving you his sandwich and taking yours.

You huffed and nodded, "She wants me to starve," you grumbled.

Jonathan chuckled, "Maybe she just wants to sneak some protein in your diet," he said. You rolled your eyes, mumbling "whatever" when Mr. Kaminsky waddled into the classroom. After the same excruciatingly boring class the two wandered through the halls to the yearbook red room. You munched on your lunch, Jonathan's hurry to develop the pictures going unnoticed by you.

Nicole Anderson walked into the room, greeting Jonathan with a smile. "Oh, hey..." he mumbled, snatching his pictures and saying a hurried goodbye to you. You stared at the door with a weird look but shrugged and kept eating anyway. Nicole shuffled around the room, trying to develop her own photos.

"Um, y/n?" she said, scratching her nose. You glared up at the redhead, trying to show you didn't want to be disturbed.

"D-did you see what he was doing?" Nicole asked nervously. You shrugged, shaking your head. "Why?" you asked, seeing the uneasy look on the girl's face. Nicole sighed, biting her lip and dropping a photo into the tub of developer.

"They were...weird. Like, they didn't know he was there weird. It looked like Steve Harrington's house. I know he had a party last night, so..." the girl said, swishing the liquid and watching the picture come through.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "I dunno. I never really pay attention to what he's putting up. I don't think he cares enough about Steve to do that though," you said, biting into your snack cake. Nicole frowned, hanging up her photos.

"Debbie cake?" you offered, holding the sponge cake out for the girl. Nicole smiled, taking the snack cake from you. "Well, if you really think it's them and you really think he was taking stalker pictures, I think we should tell them. I-I could tell Steve next period? We're paired up for a project," you shrugged, tossing your lunch bag as the bell rang.

Nicole nodded, gathering her things. "You're not how I though you were..." Nicole said, giving you a crooked smile. "I never am," you said, returning it with a tight-lipped smile of your own and wandered off to Mrs. Click's class. Steve was already there, sitting in his new seat next to your empty chair.

"Hi," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the chatter of the classroom. "Hey! Um, hey, listen...a-about the other day and...and the party. I feel like shit and, I don't know, it just wasn't cool..." Steve stuttered, running a hand through his hair.

You nodded and shrugged, "S'whatever. I'm used to it by now," you mumbled, pulling out your notebook. Steve pursed his lips and sighed, grabbing his notes and setting them out on the table. You both worked quietly on their parts of the project until you decided to speak up.

"Uh, Steve?" you said nervously. He hummed, looking up at you. "I need to tell you something..." you mumbled, picking at your thumb. "What's up?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

You stuttered your way through your explanation, fumbling with your fingers as you unintentionally threw Jonathan under the bus. He had a right to know. They were pictures of him and his friends in his own backyard. Even if you hated his friends, you had to admit it was pretty strange.

"And you didn't know about this?" Steve asked, running a hand through his hair. You shook your head frantically. "No! I didn't even know he was out last night! I was home all night," you exclaimed. Steve nodded with a sigh of relief. "I just needed to make sure. I know he's your friend or whatever..." he trailed off, "Thank you for telling me. How about we all talk to him together?" he offered.

You shrugged, tapping your pencil. Steve moved his desk closer to yours and leaned close, "Please?" he pleaded. You sighed, narrowing your eyes at the boy. "Fine..." you grumbled, snapping your pencil in half as the bell rang. You grabbed your stuff and reluctantly followed Steve outside, showing him to Jonathan's car. "I-it's this one..." you mumbled. Tommy, Carol, and Nicole stalked up the hill as Steve pushed himself up on the trunk. He patted the space beside him, motioning for you to sit beside him. You dropped your bag on the concrete and pulled yourself up onto the car, crossing your legs and dropping your head into your hands.

You felt weird. Sitting with Steve Harrington and his friends like they'd never done anything wrong. Like you were all of a sudden comfortable with each other.

Tommy and Carol ignored you, save for a simple nod of acknowledgement from the boy and Nicole tapped her foot impatiently. She was supposed to be cheering at the game, so you guessed she was anxious to get her uniform on and get ready.

Steve snuck small glances at you beside him, noticing little details he never saw before on you. How dark the circles under your eyes were, the fact your hair was actually brown instead of black like he thought, your chipped nail polish and hands...All distracted him from Jonathan walking up the hill to his car.

"Hey, man..." Steve greeted, hopping off the trunk. You struggled to get back on solid ground behind him, stumbling a bit and grabbing Steve's arm so you didn't face plant onto the ground. "Nicole and y/n were, uh, telling us about your work!" Steve said.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Jonathan mumbled, trying to push through them but Tommy stole his bag before he could get far. The dodgy looks and the way he was panicking over his bag made him seem way more guilty. "Oh, wow, he is totally trembling. He must really have something to hide," Steve said, digging in Jonathan's bag for the photos. They were conveniently on top of everything, and it was just as Nicole said. Pictures of Steve, Nancy, Tommy, and Carol in Steve's backyard swimming and laughing together. Some more shots of the house through the window showed Nancy and Steve talking and one of Nancy taking her shirt off.

"Jonathan..." you whispered, grabbing for a couple of the photos.

"I was looking for my brother..." Jonathan tried, every vein in his body was on fire with guilt and dread. "No, this is called stalking!" Steve said, rolling up his stack of pictures. You handed your stack to Tommy standing next to you and put a hand to your temple in complete stress. You pulled your coat around you tighter and buried your nose in your shoulder.

You didn't know what to think now. You knew Jonathan was a good guy and he would never do anything like this maliciously, but to take these kinds of pictures was way out of line. Blame it on a moment of weakness, you guessed.

"What's going on?" Nancy asked, clutching the strap of her bag as she approached.

"There's the starring lady," Tommy snickered, grinning at the girl.

Nancy furrowed her eyebrows, "What?" she asked, "This creep was spying on us last night...he was probably gonna save this one for later," Carol replied. She passed the topless photo to Nancy, her eyes widening when she fully processed that it was indeed her in the picture. You walked over, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I had no idea...if I knew he was there..." you trailed off, taking the picture from her.

Steve took it and ripped it up along with the rest of the photos. "So...we just have to take away his toy," Steve said, tossing the ripped-up pieces in Jonathan's face.

"No. Please, not the camera!" Jonathan pleaded, trying to grab his things when Tommy stopped him. You shook your head, "Steve, c'mon...I-I don't think-," he interrupted you with a 'wait' finger. "It's okay," Steve said, holding out the camera for him, "Here you go."

Jonathan visibly deflated in relief until Steve let the camera slip from his fingers and smash onto the pavement. It hissed pitifully, earning a wince from you and Nancy. Tommy giggled dumbly, wrapping an arm around Carol as she tossed the rest of the photos at the boy scrambling for the pieces of his camera. You watched them go, turning back to look at your friend. You wanted to say something. Wanted to tell him how stupid it was to do such a thing.

"Hey, Nance! C'mon!" Steve called. Nancy hurriedly picked up the pieces of a picture of Barb and met her boyfriend at the bottom of the hill. "Y/n!" you whirled around; confusion painted all over you. "You coming?" Steve asked, his arm around Nancy.

You stuttered, looking from Jonathan to Nancy and Steve. "Come on, loser! Are you really going to blow your chance?!" Carol rolled her eyes. You pursed your lips and bowed your head. I'm the worst. You thought as you sulked over to the group who was waiting for you. Nancy took your hand and smiled softly.

You followed them inside to the hallway outside the gym, still knowing better than to look Tommy or Carol in the eye. "Lucky you weren't there, huh, weirdo?" Tommy said, nudging you. "Who knows what he would've taken of you?" he added. You shook your head, still trying to defend your friend in your mind. "He probably wouldn't..." you said, a weak smile crossing your lips as you ran to catch up to Nancy.

You decided it was best to stay next to her, actively ignoring Carol's story about how she got detention for mouthing off to Mr. Mundy. Nancy poked your arm and whispered to you slowly. "Can you drive me somewhere?" she asked. You nodded discreetly, digging in your bag for your keys. "Whoa, where you going?" Steve asked as you and Nancy walked away. "Uh- I-I totally forgot. Um..." Nancy trailed off.

"Sleepover. At my place. She left her clothes and stuff at mine last night anyways and we're supposed to get dinner, so..." you filled in, jingling your keys. Steve grabbed his jacket as he stood, scrambling to get you to stay. "The game's about to start!" he tried, "I'm sorry," Nancy sighed, pulling you along with her.

Nancy threw her bag in the car, buckling in with a huff. "Where to?" you asked, starting the car. "Steve's. I think something happened to Barb."

:)

[incandescent-creativity]

Oh I figured out why reading public comments on projects we write environmental reports for is always so draining

It’s because they all come from people who open with “I never would have bought my house here if I’d known there was going to be this kind of development in the area”

And reading that in the current housing market desympathizes me from them instantly

[tennessoui]

girl your hanahaki au is absolutely wrecking my shit i--- I don't ever read ongoing fics and this is why. I just cannot wait?!? But the waiting somehow makes it better too?!? I'm literally dead bro I can't I love it so much

hahah omg thank you !! I’m really happy to hear you took a chance on this wip and that you like it so much!

not to get on my soapbox or anything but you have given me a great corner to shout from

as a disclaimer I totally understand why people will choose not to read wips and I truly think you know your mental health and what you can stand to wonder about/think about/obsess over/NEED to know a conclusion for better than anyone else

BUT as a writer who almost exclusively posts in wips, people reading them before they’re finished is my life blood and I am so grateful and it makes the writing process so much more fun for me because I know at least someone else is invested in my brainworm of a story?? someone else is enjoying it and thinking about it and I’m putting a small amount of good into the world??

the best analogy I’ve been able to come up with is like:

when you read a finished fic you’re eating a whole meal and that’s great that’s so amazing (especially if you tell the cook you liked it after you’re done). and you’re literally always welcome to eat that meal whenever you want. finished fics are like standing dinner invitations: I am always happy to have you and I mean that very genuinely

but if you read a wip, you’re keeping me company in the kitchen while I cook. and that’s sort of priceless. in some instances, you can even tell me the food needs more spice and I’ll think about it and listen!!! you’re sitting on my kitchen counter as I bustle around my space and we’re talking about what I’m doing and also how I’m feeling and maybe how you’re feeling and it just feels like community more than anything else I’ve experienced in any fandom. like you’re with me in my space as I’m creating food I hope you like. we’re both invested and it’s amazing

and I think in general that’s why wips are a lot of fun and also maybe why the waiting between chapters is fun for you - you’ve suggested that I add paprika to the pot and you’re waiting and wondering if I will, and I’m laughing and hoping you like the soup either way but also wondering if paprika will work with the recipe, and if I can add a bit to it just for you while staying true to the dish I envisioned at the get go.

[isfjmel-phleg]

😬

[the-lark-ascending69]

I loove the android robin au it's really one of the most interesting au I have seen in a while.

I am always happy to see new post abt it

Also making my favourite characters go through hell and then receiving comfort from their people is like the best thing ever for me so every time I see a whump!Robin post I like automatically

People loving android!Robin makes me so happy anansnssndsnsns she's curious and excitable and full of wonder and the world keeps punishing her for simply being alive. Sometimes it's too painful even for me, big whump lover 😭😭 though seriously, there is not enough Robin whump, and while all the characters in the show are very whumpeable, hurting my little blorbo Robin feels special because... she's just so deeply lonely. She's lonely and she thinks she deserves to be because of something wrong with her (pulling this interpretation from Surviving Hawkins lore which is canon to me 😭). That was a big idea I had when I first came up with android!Robin... that there is something wrong with her. Broken. In this AU she's literally broken in a lot of way (battery and memory problems, weak joints in her lower half, etc), but that's all within the range of normal robot problems. The real issue with her is that she's sentient. It terrifies people because it really brings out the existencial horror of... well, existing. It terrifies Robin most of all. She is the problem. She is what's wrong with her. She shouldn't exist.

But at the same time, she loves being alive so much! She doesn't understand it and doesn't know how it happened, but it happened, and now she's real and wants to experience life and the world and know people like human beings do. So it's her constant battle to become human despite humans having hurt her so much in the past... only for Nancy to already see her as human. Just one made of metal and plastic, but human nonetheless. She's the first person to see her that way and maybe everyone else thinks she's crazy, but Nancy is used to that. She's so sure of this, though, of Robin's self-awareness. She trusts her so blindly. She doesn't even need proof. And not only does she believe her, but she defends her humanity in front of her friends and family so ardently, fighting so hard for Robin to be aknowledged by everyone else as human. Fighting so hard to give her a home and family for the first time in her life.

Nancy has it bad for Robin, really. She's just so in love, even if everyone else thinks she's crazy for falling in love with a machine (no one thinks she is, though, because they all know Robin, and once you know Robin, it's impossible not to love her).

[forbiddentaako]

Hi, sorry for bothering you and feel completely free not to answer this if you don't want to or aren't interested in it anymore, but I just really like your Devil's Carnival AU and I'd love to know more about it so dropping some questions here 👀 sorry if they're too many!

1. How do you imagine Charlie's and Vaggie's relationship developing? They obviously meet in "After the fall", right after Vaggie's fall from grace, but when did they start dating? How did it happen? Since in canon one of the things Vaggie loves about Charlie is her kindness and compassion towards sinners, how does that translate into this AU, where Charlie is less sunshine-y?

2. Does your idea involve Lute being more like Cora or like the Agent? With this I mean whether she has feelings for Vaggie which she hides because they're "inappropriate and illegal" or if she's courting Vaggie because Adam asked her to as a way to expose Vaggie while she's internally praying for her not to do something stupid and prove Adam right. I think you kind of explained it already in your other post but I didn't fully get it 🥲

3. Slightly related to the previous one but how does Vaggie fall? Is it for the same reasons as June?

4. Have you thought of roles for characters like Husk, Alastor or Niffty?

5. What do you think would happen in this AU in a hypothetical 3rd movie?

Your art style is so beautiful btw! You're such a talented artist :)

You are literally doing the opposite of bothering me don't worry I got so excited seeing this ask in my inbox you have no idea fsgsghskbds i have everything under read more bc it turned out long but thank you so much for the compliment on my art and also for this ask !!!

1:

More or less vaggie and charlie getting together is closer to how it happened in hazbin hotel since i feel like part of it is the similarities of vaggie meeting charlie immediately after her fall and charlie still being kind and helping her which is the start of their connection, and overtime they grow closer and end up falling in love. I do like to think it did take them a while to get together but it was over the course of getting to know one another and their passions/dreams/ect that they began to truly understand who the other was and fall for them.

A little side note off of that which is relevant to understanding a less sunshiny charlie and how it translates to chaggie; with this particular role for charlie it has her mirroring aspects of both of her parents by design, but her character motivations are still very rooted in the fact that she is kind and believes in the good of sinners, heaven has just pushed her too far. Like even tho she's technically fulfilling lucifer's role from the devil's carnival, in doing so she's bearing more similarities to lilith's role in hell in hazbin in that she empowers sinners with her voice (in this case particularly any who've fallen from heaven since it seems like in the devil's carnival this was an occurrence that happened multiple times). And that kind of motivates her disdain for heaven to see how easily they cast out those who don't live up to their standards + with the obvious hypocrisy in how adam acts it makes her more disillusioned with the whole system altogether that heaven stands for and perpetuates (like lucifer hazbin hotel), which is what results in her saying 'fuck it' and just send sinners up there.

originally i was thinking the first movie didn't quite fit for charlie in lucifer's role because it does seem kind of cruel the way the sinners are tormented and it felt like it deviated from charlie's character, but i changed my mind after seeing the second bc i think it could read as a misguided attempt at redemption playing by heaven's rules of shunning what's perceived as sin (which we do see charlie try to do in the actual show) rather than her more trust exercises/team building route she goes for in hazbin. Like for charlie i think she'd genuinely think she's helping to try and get each of them to realize what sin they've committed for redemption's sake but hits her breaking point with heaven by the end. Probably from a mix of not fully believing some of the sins committed warrant eternal damnation (I feel like angel in particular with this one is especially sad because its unclear whether or not tamara ever does get sent to heaven/redeemed?) and being pissed at how hypocritical adam is by engaging in the same sins he's damning people to hell for. Charlie sending trains of sinners up isnt just a passive aggressive thing to do to heaven to shun her role as their torturer but also a statement that sinners and winners are one in the same-like she's completely giving up on trying for redemption within heaven's rules and just showing them that if they continue with this hypocrisy and cruelty, redemption is unnecessary bc these sinners fit right in as flawed as they are. I think this would also make Adam's damage control before 'bells of black sunday' especially insulting to charlie as well.

And vaggie sees that compassion in charlie when they first meet and she is kind to her in her lowest point, but realizes how much deeper it goes the more they get to know one another. In this AU also charlie knew from the beginning that vaggie was a former exorcist, but finding out why she fell was probably something that happened later on. (I do think the idea of them first starting to spend more time together by reading Aesop's fables to one another would be really cute too, like charlie likely reads stories to most new sinners to help with the transition to hell but vaggie shows so much genuine interest that it becomes a routine for them)

(Another side note; I think a scene in the actual film which supports a well intentioned charlie and works well for her character is the one with the devil and the ticket keeper towards the end of the second movie when the ticket keeper confronts lucifer about his plan. Like its vox yelling at charlie that heaven will try to fuck them up because of what she's doing, and him saying that he is the one who'll be standing on the tracks to push her out of the way, but charlie getting angry at this and saying she would never let him do that and that she will be on the tracks with him, and then she tells him her plan finally. I think this scene works well because it not only shows charlie's devotion to her ideas and to those she cares about, but also the disconnect between her intentions and her actions that could allow for the first movie's plot of torturing sinners to be born out of a want to help them. Because in this case she does have a well thought out plan and everything is done with intent, but vaggie is the only one who really knows this so to vox it seems like shes being reckless and impulsive due to how she's been acting, and heaven also isn't really understanding the message in the way she wanted.)

2:

With Lute and vaggie i think i have a clearer idea of what's going on now than when i first made the post in summary because i think lutes role is dependent on if we're talking in the plot or if we're talking in relation to vaggie. I think adam probably still wanted her to get closer to Vaggie and prove she wasn't worthy of heaven/it was a test of loyalty for lute to betray her but the feelings between them that developed were ones that Lute definitely deemed to be 'inappropriate and illegal'. I think they probably could have had their romantic moments between them still in secret but after getting found out and confronted by the watchword Lute realized because she had fallen for vaggie she was resigned to letting vaggie fall so she wouldn't have to deal with the fact that she loved her or get caught having a secret relationship with her. Like externally they present similarly to the agent and june with their respective roles in the narrative, but in terms of who they are to one another it's was closer to what cora and june had going on.

With their plot as well I feel like some of the heaven caste system needs to be examined/adjusted so it better fits them, but I haven't had the time to dig into it as it exists in the film enough that I feel comfortable deconstructing and reconstructing it just yet. Definitely working on it though !

3:

And going off of this I think when vaggie fell Lute took the opportunity to make it look like she had acted calculated and callously this whole time as to maintain adam's respect as well as prove her loyalty, when in reality that was very much not the case and she did really care for vaggie at one point but forced herself to hate her because of what loving her would mean. I also think vaggie's fall would be something tied to kindness rather than ambition because it follows more closely to what happened in hazbin and also would probably endear her to charlie more when she finds out (and make her angrier at heaven), but Im also not 100% sure what that would look like in terms of how it plays out in the film.

4:

So I have thought a bit of nifty/alastor/husk though they are more unsure in who they'd be. I am kind of stuck on the idea of Alastor as the publicist in his more positive sense because I think it fits and i think it'd be cool to incorporate more physical radio aspects into his design in the same way that the publicist has the horn attached at his ear (plus mimzy can be there too as one of the songbirds). I do also like the idea of him playing the role of the watchword to some extent (just keeping it solely to radio) bc he loves drama. Partly because I think it fits to let him be in heaven but still be an absolute menace to the general public, and partly because i think its funny to keep Al and Vox separated like toddlers who will start a fight with one another if left alone for too long. I had thought about having vox as the watchword and alastor as the publicist, but I kind of like the 'charlie works with the vees' plot a bit too much to separate vox from them. With Husk and Niffty I go back and forth on who they'd play, partly bc when i was originally brainstorming this au with a friend we thought husk could be the hobo clown but that was also when we were thinking Alastor as Lucifer's role instead of charlie (and this was before I had watched the second movie so the cast overall was very different) so im not entirely sure. If we're going with carnie roles for them i think husk as the hobo clown or the magician i can live with and niffty as one of the bayonets maybe. But having Alastor in heaven kind of throws off the dynamic so im unsure fully where to put them.

5:

The idea of what would happen in a third movie is SO INTERESTING and I hadn't even thought about it. I think part of this AU deviates from the movie to be more chaggie focussed so I imagine a third movie could focus more on their relationship as well, maybe even delving into them bonding over their shared plan to overthrow heaven and we'd get to see that development of the plan/their relationship in the flashbacks with the present being them actually enacting their plan. Like they are a power couple and share each other's passion, and theyre really the only 2 who actually know what the plan is. I think by this point vox would have been told the plan by charlie in the previous movie so he would have to also help get the carnies organized and on board. There'd also have to be some scenes in heaven with Adam losing it as his control of heaven falters, plus finding out whats going on with the sinners sent to heaven. Really theres just a ton of possibilities since the actual third movie was never made.

[thatlittledandere]

Okay, so this is late (again), but for the "Not So Nice" OC Asks: how about 4, 13, 21, 25, 36, and 42 for Keiichi, Shiro, and/or Minta (or whoever you feel like talking about)~ ^^

[EDIT: FUCK ok I scrolled to the bottom of my drafts and this has been buried in there for SEVEN YEARS. And I see some things have changed since then so I’m just. Gonna release this into the wild as-is. No edits past these brackets not even in tags. wOW. Vintage.]

ok this is gonna be LONG so here’s a cut (and here’s the meme)

4. Describe their worst nightmare.

(I’m treating this as a “biggest fear” question I couldn’t tell the difference)

Keiichi: Being abandoned by the people who mean the most to him

Shiro: His loved ones getting hurt and 

Minta: Being seen as weak

13. Which of the 7 Deadly Sins best describes them?

Keiichi:

Shiro: Many would say lust because of his skirt-chasing reputation but really it’s pretty far away from the truth

Minta: Pride. She wants to feel be seen as strong, powerful, independent and mature so she won’t ask for help or show vulnerability very easily or to very many.

21. What is something that causes them great anxiety?

Keiichi: At the point on the timeline I’m imagining here Keiichi’s biggest anxiety is being outed as gay. It’ll be fine eventually, I promise. He’ll have more reason to anxiety later on and oh boy those things are the things I feast on.

Shiro: He’s afraid he’s generally an unlikable person and Keiichi and Minta are just so used to him that they’ve learnt to tolerate him.

Minta:

25. Have they ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust?

Keiichi: Oh, honey, he doesn’t trust like that. Keiichi trusts three (3) people in his life: Shiro, Minta and his mom. Amd they have all earned his trust fair and square and that isn’t the kind of hurt I’m planning on

Shiro: Oh sweetie YES. I mean he doesn’t look at it that way but I do and I am God so ye. What Shitzuko pulled was definitely betrayal, whatever it was that she pulled.

Minta: Also yes. Her ex boyfriend (or… future or current one… listen I operate on at least four points on the timeline simultaneously) was a fuckboy and deserved to go after his lil stunt.

36. Are they in control of their emotions, or are their emotions in control of them?

Keiichi: At least he thinks he’s got them on check. And I don’t enough about emotions to dispute it.

Shiro: Shiro is a man of emotion.

Minta:

42. Are they comfortable with where they are in life?

Keiichi: He tries to convince himself he is

Shiro: Mostly yeah! He’d like a girlfriend and would love it if he didn’t need to worry for Keiichi so much (he doesn’t need to he just doesn’t understand the concept of introverts) but mostly he doesn’t have anything to complain about. A sunshine child

Minta: She’s got her own demons too but doesn’t acknowledge them even to the the extent Keiichi does;;

Thinking of answers I noticed Minta really doesn’t have a lot going on for her… I gotta work on that. She used to be my favorite to draw (and I guess she still is) but golly did she lose in personality what she gained in attention.

[imflyingfish]

Its weird because i dont actually have much of a desire to move to france or use french reguarly in my life but at this point ive deadicated over a year to learning it so i might as well keep going and finish

[cmonangel]

okay so i finally read a ballad of songbirds and snakes which led to me rereading the hunger games trilogy over the past week (SO GOOD i could make a whole other post) but then i thought it would be a good idea to watch the movies but then literally started sobbing from the beginning and started again every time single time they showed rue before the games even started or anything

[pyrrhiccomedy]

so like I said, I work in the tech industry, and it's been kind of fascinating watching whole new taboos develop at work around this genAI stuff. All we do is talk about genAI, everything is genAI now, "we have to win the AI race," blah blah blah, but nobody asks - you can't ask -

What's it for?

What's it for?

Why would anyone want this?

I sit in so many meetings and listen to genuinely very intelligent people talk until steam is rising off their skulls about genAI, and wonder how fast I'd get fired if I asked: do real people actually want this product, or are the only people excited about this technology the shareholders who want to see lines go up?

like you realize this is a bubble, right, guys? because nobody actually needs this? because it's not actually very good? normal people are excited by the novelty of it, and finance bro capitalists are wetting their shorts about it because they want to get rich quick off of the Next Big Thing In Tech, but the novelty will wear off and the bros will move on to something else and we'll just be left with billions and billions of dollars invested in technology that nobody wants.

and I don't say it, because I need my job. And I wonder how many other people sitting at the same table, in the same meeting, are also not saying it, because they need their jobs.

idk man it's just become a really weird environment.