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chaotic-mystery · 1 year

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Say It Right |

✰ Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

✰ Summary: what happens when your dad leaves and Joel looks too good working on an old mustang?

✰ Word Count: 1.9k

✰ CW: SMUT. 18+ ! Minors DNI. Unprotected p in v, Mutual pining, established relationship, implied age gap (reader is mid 20s Joel is late 30s) choking, roughness if you squint, swallowing, oral (m receiving), secret relationship (duh), dirty talk.

All of my dbf! Joel is pre-outbreak, but he’s not a father (I’m sorry!)

ꨄ Let me know what you think! ꨄ

The Texas summer nights were your favorite, especially when your dad invited you over to hang out with him in the garage as he and Joel worked on his old blue mustang. Your dad had a fridge full of beers and the radio in the corner playing some local station so it wasn’t too boring. Every so often your dad would be so far under the hood cranking away at some piece with a wrench, you’d look over at Joel who was already staring at you, admiring how good you looked sitting on that old bar stool in your own world. What you’re actually doing is zoning out and thinking about Joel's hands that are caked in grease, his clothes that are absolutely filthy from crawling underneath the car. The words on the pages of your book aren’t even computing in your head, it’s just a prop at this point to cover your face when your thoughts become sinful. His dirty hands touching on your body, pinning you against the car as he takes you from the back, fistful of your hair as he calls you a good gir-

“Honey? Did you hear me? Can you get me the torque wrench from the tool box please?” Your dad requested, a frustrated sigh vacating his mouth. “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry, the book is just so good.” You mutter the terrible lie as you wag the book slightly in the air, Joel standing next to your dad with a little smirk dancing on his lips. As you turn around to look in the tool box and look for the torque wrench, your dad told Joel to hop in the car so they can see if it runs right after he tightens one last piece. Handing it to your dad and curious to see what they’re doing, you held the light for him so he could see what he was doing. “Thanks, Honey. Hopefully this makes it run smoothly.” He grunts as he tightens it as much as he can, telling Joel to flip it on. The blue beauty tried to start, but it sputtered before it grew quiet in the garage. Your dad tossed the tools on the floor, throwing his hands up. “Fuck this, I’m taking a break. I need more smokes and I’m out of beer. I’ll be back soon. Do you guys need anything?” Your dad asks, pointing between you and Joel. Shaking your head no, you looked at Joel and he hesitated before saying, “No, im good buddy. Go get your smokes, cool off.” Your dad pushed the garage door button, causing the big overhead door to open. The rain was pouring on the slab of concrete, thunder rumbling in the distance.

His truck slowly backed out, pulling off down the street. Joel climbed out of the car and started working on the engine once more. You peaked at him over your book, the bridge of your nose resting in the crook of the pages. The clicking of the torque wrench echoed the garage walls that were covered in tool boxes and playboy posters, Joel seeming to be in deep concentration. “Do you wanna help? I can feel your eyes on me, sweet girl” he remarked from under the hood, a chuckle following closely. “Uh- yeah, sure” you mutter as you walk towards him, your hands suddenly feeling damp with sweat. You helped your dad work on things here and there but you didn’t want to seem like an idiot in front of Joel. Cars weren’t really your strong suit, but you knew the basics and that was enough to make your dad proud.

“So, take this and tighten all these bolts here that you see, okay?” he explained as he placed the wrench in your hands and pointed to the bolts he wanted you to tighten. Reaching down under the hood, you start tightening one when you feel his hand on your waist and the other on the side of your head holding onto the hood. His eyes watch your hands as you move the wrench back and forth, taking your time and enjoying the rain and Joel's presence. The radio was playing your favorite song, ‘Say It Right’ by Nelly Furtado, and you started swaying your hips slowly as you stand up straight.

Oh, you don't mean nothing at all to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

No, you don't mean nothing at all to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

But you got what it takes to set me free (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

Oh, you could mean everything to me (Hey, oh, oh, hey)

Both of Joel’s hands gripped your waist as he pressed himself against you, grinding against your ass that moved to the beat. “You like this song, baby? Sing it for me with that pretty voice of yours?” He mutters as he brushes your hair off your shoulder and to one side, placing a kiss on your bare skin. His brisk kiss was just enough to send warm tingles down your spine, your cheeks warming up quickly. “I’m not singin’ for you, cowboy. Nice try.”

I can't say (say) that I'm not (not) at a loss (loss) and at fault (fault)

I can't say (say) that I don't (don't) love the light (light) and the dark

You turn to face him after you close the hood of the car, leaning against it with your palms resting flat against the cold metal. His brown eyes looked at your lips and back at your eyes and you knew he wanted to kiss you. “Are you gonna kiss me already or do I need to kiss you?” you mocked and tilted your head to the side slightly, the sweat on your skin glistening under the fluorescent garage lights. He walked towards you slowly, splitting your legs as he stood between them and leaned over you with his hands supporting himself on either side of your body. “What makes you think I wanna kiss you, darlin?” he playfully asked as he brushed his lips over yours softly, his breath dancing over your hungry lips.

From my hands I could give you something that I made From my mouth I could sing you another brick that I laid From my body (from my body) I could show you (I could show you) A place (a place) God knows (that only God knows) You should know, this space is holy (Oh oh oh oh) Do you really wanna go? (Three, four)

“I saw you staring at me every time my dad wasn’t lookin’. C’mon, I’ve been a good girl. I’ve sat over there in my own world and not teasing you for once in front of him.” your fingers tinkered with the small necklace hanging from his neck that was dangling in your vision slightly. “You think so, sweetheart?” His lips closed the space between you, his soft kisses turning roughly quickly.

“Joel the garage door is open”

“Who gives a shit, they can’t see us and it’s the middle of the night on the weekend. If they’ve got nothing better to do, the least we can do is give them a show, right?” he joked as he kissed your neck and down your chest, his plump lips leaving a trail of kisses down to the tops of your breasts.

“You wore this little sundress to make my head spin, didn’t you angel?” his hands pawed at your full breasts, his hands running over the soft material that barely covered them. “Maybe, I’ll never tell. You look so good covered in all that grease and dirt, Joel. I don’t know what it is but I wanted you to pin me against the car and take me right there.” Your thoughts flew out before you could stop and he wrapped his hand around your neck slowly, giving you a dark grin as he pulled you close and you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Is that what you want me to do to you, pretty baby? You want me to fuck your little pussy right here on daddy’s car?” You took your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded, tossing your head back as you imagined what he’s going to do to you. Joel stands up and the belt on his waist comes undone, his jeans went down just enough for your hand to pull his hardened cock out from his underwear and start moving your hand back and forth. His head falls back in pleasure and groans your name quietly. His hand went up your dress and rubbed your clit through your underwear, the fabric growing wetter and wetter. “Do you feel how much I need you, Joel? Please, make me feel so good” you whimpered as you spread your legs and rested your feet on the bumper, knees bent as you pulled your dress up around your torso for him.

“Fuck me, baby doll, you are so damn sexy. Look at you just waitin for me, so patient” His fingers pull your panties to the side, a groan behind gritted teeth was gifted by Joel, his eyes mesmerized by your glistening pussy. The head of his cock slapped against your clit before making its way inside you, earning a delicious moan from you. “God damn, Joel baby, you feel so fucking good inside me already.” Grabbing your hips as he starts thrusting inside you, he pulls the top of your dress down to expose your beautiful breasts. The pad of his thumb is put on your tongue and yanked away with your saliva dripping off it as he rubs the wetness over your nipples. Your whimpers of his name get louder and mix with his moans, his praise sending your head into the clouds. You reach down and rub your clit softly, slightly overstimulating yourself. Joel noticed what you were doing and begged you to keep going, to let him watch. “Yeah baby, get yourself off on my fuckin cock, baby. Rub that pretty fuckin clit for me” he moaned as he pumped into you harder, you sweaty skin sticking and slapping together. He was glistening and looked so beautiful, his hair damp and dripping slightly with sweat but he didn’t care. Joel leaned down and kissed you, shoving his tongue in your mouth. Drinking up your moans and sharing his in your mouth, you rubbed your clit even faster, moving yourself to the edge of releasing. “Fuck Joel yes- keep going just like that. Fuck me harder, Joel. Make me cum on my dad’s car, baby.” You begged him as your stomach started caving, your orgasm right around the corner. His calloused hand met your slightly sweaty neck once more, squeezing tightly as he pounded into you with everything he had. You lost all senses as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his name being shouted from your lips. Seeing you turn into such a begging mess for him had him wanting to fill you full of his cum, but you had a different idea this time. Trying to talk through deep breaths, you asked him sweetly, “Let me swallow this time? cum in my mouth.” The look of pure shock dressed his face and he knew you were being serious. “If that’s what you want, then yeah angel. Get on your fuckin knees because im so close for you, baby doll.”

Quickly getting down on your knees in front of Joel, you gripped the back of his thigh with one hand as you started jacking him off with the other hand. You put the salty head in your mouth, mixing your juices and his precum with your tongue, swallowing and moaning as you did.

“Oo, just like that baby. Don’t move that pretty face darlin, keep that pretty face right fuckin there for me” his jaw clenched as he began shooting his cum down your throat, your name being wrapped between curse words. You swallowed it all and continued to suck him off until he went soft, and you tucked him back in his pants. He held out his hands to help you up, pulling you flush with his drenched chest. “Go wash your knees off before your dad gets back, baby doll. Can’t let him figure out what we did instead of fixing his car.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x you #dbf!joel #joel tlou #dbf!joel miller #dbf! joel smut #dbf joel miller #dbf joel miller x f reader #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo

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violentkitty666 · 17 days

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who up smoking gir weed….

#art #:3 #gir

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borntoocry · 1 year

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𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞. e. williams x reader

summary: yn left town after her and Ellie had an explosive argument. after two years, yn returns, but things have changed.

word count: 1.9k

proofread? when is it ever.

part 2

Smoke clung to your clothing and the hairs inside of your nose. You had chosen the worst place to sit during Dina’s annual bonfire party: On the right, where the breeze pushed the wood debris towards you. It made you smell of barbeque–a smell that would pester you until you bathed in bleach.

You nursed a cup of pineapple juice and tequila and sipped it religiously to take your mind away from the nauseating scent trickling out of your pores. Wood lingered at your feet and trashed your clothes, but you were warm and there was a risk of someone taking your seat if you got up, so you remained planted on the old black lawnchair and drowned in your drink. You had no one to speak to. Dina was off being flamboyant, beautiful Dina, and after being gone for two annual bonfires, no one wanted to speak to you, which added to the list of reasons to fall into the drunk and quiet category.

There may have been other reasons, such as you leaving town with your only excuse being ‘I can’t do this,’ which made no sense to the majority, but made absolute sense to two people, one being Dina and the other being Ellie Williams. Dina was your best friend, and Ellie was the girl of your fucking dreams. She was your girl until you fell into a stupid argument about your insecurities and trust issues and fear of abandonment. She said she couldn’t be with someone who constantly feared their girlfriend would leave them. She said she couldn’t be with someone who took weeks on end searching for trust in their significant other. She said she couldn’t be with someone as insecure as you.

So how did you handle that? You left without a word. A verbal word. You did leave a note, however, explaining how you’d left town to stay with your family. Life had come to be too much and you could no longer do it. So you left. For two years.

And now you were back. Single. Still sad, but confident. Still sad, but trusting. Still sad, but no longer someone with abandonment issues and unresolved trauma. You were a new person, but life was still crashing down on you.

You missed Ellie every day. She used to hold you every night before bed, every morning before you got ready for school, every time you brushed your teeth, dabbed make-up on your face, etc. She used to splatter kisses all over your skin until you shrieked. She would fuck you so well, too. No one could ever live up to how well she was with her mouth and hands. You missed her sweetness, but you could no longer have it back. It had been twenty-four months. Twenty-four months without you, which was long enough for someone to forget and find someone new.

You weren’t being an overthinker, as much as you wanted to be. Your overthinking was finally correct, because according to Dina, Ellie was now with a new girl. A girl with long brown hair and porcelain skin and beautiful brown eyes that looked like honey. Dina didn’t forget to mention her beauty, which shattered your broken heart. She hadn’t realized you still missed Ellie, which wasn’t completely her fault.

After spilling that information, she invited you to her bonfire, which made your insides twist and turn and loop through one another. The thought of her being present at that annual bonfire made you anxious, but it was Dina–and you loved Dina. So you said yes. As long as you were intoxicated, you’d be fine…

You took another sip of your drink and drifted your eyes away from the evergrowing fire after every empty beer can. You glanced over at the people around you: a couple of college girls gossiping, some people making out, some cute couples holding hands as they looked at the orange pit of flames. Then there was Ellie and her girl. They stood next to each other, but they weren’t holding hands or making out. The girl–who was truly beautiful–muttered on and on about something you couldn’t hear, and Ellie was looking at you. You darted your eyes back to the fire and got up as quickly as you could. You swallowed the rest of your drink and jumped out of your seat, moving away from the compelling eyes following you around.

You tried to walk away from the scene as calmly as you could, but you had a couple of drinks and the sadness weighing you down made you stumble. So, you walked as slowly as you could with your eyes gawking into your empty cup.

This failed, however, because you most certainly weren’t paying attention to the right subject. When you walked up the patio steps that followed inside, a stiff body you knew all too well struck yours. You lifted your eyes from your cup and the alcohol you chugged seconds before barrelled up your throat.

“Oh god,” you whispered, to which she said, “Hey.”

You nodded. Your shaky hands tugged your cup to your chest and you continued to drunkenly nod. “Hey,” you returned with a rushing sense of embarrassment kicking your stomach.

“You alright there?”

You swallowed the alcohol burning your mouth and throat and continued to nod. “Yeah. Just gonna go refill my cup.”

Ellie turned her head to catch a better glimpse of you. You hadn’t changed much about yourself since you left, but apparently, there was much to look at. You had dyed your hair blue a couple of times, followed by red, which had faded into a sad shade of purple. You had also gotten a few tattoos that trailed across your skin, but there was little to see from the layers piled atop your naked skin. Besides that, you were the same.

“You look good,” she whispered, like her girlfriend was around, listening to your conversation. Or lack thereof.

“Thanks,” you murmured. “You… too.” She did look good. Her hair was shorter than before, her freckles were more vibrant, like they had overpopulated her face as she’d gotten older. Her body was slimmer, but muscles had now taken over every ounce of ‘childish fat,’ as she had called it. She was beautiful, albeit always being so. She truly was different, but not all of her seemed happy about it.

She nodded. “You were tipping over as you walked over here. I don’t think you should drink anymore.”

You blinked. You regretted telling her she looked good. Or even thinking that she looked fucking beautiful. She was being ugly now.

“And what kind of authority over me do you have?”

“None but no one wants sloppy drunks at Dina’s annual bonfire.”

You scoffed and slid past her, cursing under your breath to distract your mind from telling her to fuck off.

“YN,” Ellie said behind you. You didn’t pay any attention, although Ellie wanted you to speak to her. She was already being nasty two years later, which is something you wished would not be the case. “YN,” she repeated as you slid into the makeshift bar and poured more tequila into your cup. “I’m sorry.”

You grabbed the bottle of pineapple juice and poured some into your cup. You glanced at her and swallowed the lump of cries fighting against your throat. “About?”

“I didn’t mean to say that. I can tell it made you feel some kind of way.”

You shrugged. “Just weird that that’s what you decided to say after I’ve been gone for two years.”

“Yeah well I don’t really know what to say to you.”

“Maybe ask me how I’m doing?” you said as you turned around with your sour drink. “Maybe say ‘Hi, how are you?’”

“I can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“People who haven’t seen each other in a week or two say shit like that,” she spat. “I haven’t seen you in two fucking years, YN.”

You shrugged. Your heart was already breaking and you had only been speaking to her for two minutes. “Well then I don’t know.”

“How about we talk outside,” Ellie offered, her eyebrows knocking against each other and her mouth flopping down like some imaginary stitches had been ripped off. She seemed hurt, and you were a sad and desperate drunk, so you nodded.

Ellie walked outside–where your seat was now occupied by a hot couple making out–and directed you to a dark corner only lit by the wavering flames many feet away. She leaned against the fence and looked down at you and your shitty purple hair and broken sense of style.

“How are you?”

“As fine as I look,” you answered. Being smart was not on your agenda, but the alcohol partying inside of you was tapping every button it shouldn’t have been touching.

“Well you look fine.”

“You could be a liar.”

“Well I'm not,” she sighed.

“And how do I know that? To me, you are now considered a stranger.”

Ellie sloshed her drink around and threw it into her mouth. She crumpled her cup and threw it into the nearby trash can where it flew right in. The woman was fucking perfect and there you stood, trying to grasp onto life as hard as you could. “I used to be your girlfriend. I am not a stranger, YN.”

“Used to be. You’re now with someone new.”

“And what if she isn’t my girlfriend?”

You sputtered a laugh that sounded like a rotten engine and covered your mouth with your elbow. “Don’t,” you warned. “Ellie, don’t say that.”

“What?”

“You are not going to leave that pretty girl for me. That is fucking–that is illegal.”

“Illegal?” Ellie asked with a smirk dotting along her face.

“Stop,” you warned once more. “She’s nice from what I hear, Ellie. And I left. I left you and Dina without a word. I’m a shitty person, so please do not include me in the shit you have spiraling in your head.”

“Nothing is spiraling in my head.”

You sighed and bit down on your lip. “Ellie, I know you. I know what you think about. I know that you love people way past its expiration date. And I do miss you but I’m no good.”

Ellie’s eyes lit up for a fraction of a minute. “You miss me?”

You pinched your thighs and shut your eyes. “I am no good for you.”

“And how do you know that? You’re now considered a stranger to me.”

“Ellie,” you pleaded with a hand extending towards her. “I used to tell myself that if I returned, I’d give us a second chance. But I can’t give us a second chance because you’re happy! You have a new girl and she’s beautiful and I can tell that she loves you.”

“But what about me?” she whispered.

“What?” you questioned. The alcohol spun you faster and faster and all you could think about was how nice that bush next to Ellie looked.

“I don’t love her,” she spat. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I think about you every day and I try to get over you, but I just can’t. You’re eating me alive even when you’re not here.”

You wanted to scream and cry and kiss Ellie. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t yours anymore. She was off limits, no matter how much you missed her or how much you wanted to wrap your arms around her.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a pair of footsteps rang in your ears and you turned around to face them. The beautiful porcelain girl stood in front of you, with perfect brown hair and an even better looking body.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi,” she replied. She extended a hand. “Madelaine. Ellie’s girlfriend.”

#ellie williams #lesbian #lesbian romance #the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #oneshot #elliewilliams fanfiction

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vermillionsappho · 7 months

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Miss Americana | Ellie Williams x Reader

MISS AMERICANA | CHAPTER TWO

"They whisper in the hallway, 'She's a bad, bad girl.'"

-Y/N has always been a good girl, practically the picture of what it means to be an all-american girl, with her perfect, all-american boyfriend and life. She's never strayed from the path others expect of her; but after meeting Ellie Williams, the girl the people in her town whisper about, her life begins to change dramatically.

1.2k words | sfw

Content Warning: None (90% sure)

Semi-proofread ofc, sorry this chapter is so short, things should pick up next chapter! <3

You awake to the sun peeking out of the blinds, causing your eyes to squint and shut, flipping over and feeling the emptiness in the space next to you.

Of fucking course Grayson’s gone.

You sigh, and unplug your phone, checking your notifications, rolling your eyes when you see you don’t have a single message from him.

“Used me for head and then fucking dipped…” You whisper to yourself before huffing and rolling out of bed.

You’re pissed of course; Grayson kept you out at the party all night, took you back to his house, begged for head, and then left you laying in his bed to go off and do other shit. You stomp downstairs, angrily yanking the fridge open when you get into the kitchen. There’s takeout in the fridge, which is expected since Grayson can’t cook, and neither can his mother.

You plop the box into the microwave, tapping your foot impatiently as you check your notifications while the food heats up.

Nothing.

You sit in a chair at the table, quickly swallowing your food as you scroll through your contacts, trying to find someone who might be up and able to pick you up and take you home; but it's so early, and everyone is probably in bed, sleeping, or nursing a hangover. You’ll probably be here until Grayson decides to come back whenever he’s done doing whatever it is he’s doing. You frown at the thought and slump against the cool glass of the table, groaning. “Fuck Grayson.” You murmur to yourself.

About an hour later, Olivia finally calls you back and lets you know she’s on the way to come pick you up, and you’re literally floating in relief. You use the downstairs bathroom, rinsing your mouth with mouthwash, and trying to slick your messy hairs down with no avail.

Olivia pulls up and you’re hardly embarrassed to be bolting outside to her car in a pair of Grayson’s boxers, his shirt hanging off your shoulder.

“I could kiss you right now, I’m so pissed off at Grayson. He could’ve at least woke me up and took me home.” You say with a sigh as you get into the passenger seat of her car. Olivia laughs and shakes her head.

“Well, you’re not gonna be too thrilled…I gotta stop for gas since Grayson lives so fucking far out.” Olivia says with a pout and you slump into the seat in horror.

“C’mon, Liv! Absolutely not, I’m practically naked!” You say, tugging on your shirt and she grimaces.

“You’re wearing something at least…but I seriously have to stop or we won’t make it to your house.” She says and you lean your head against the window with a frown as she finally pulls off, heading to the nearest gas station.

“I’ll be quick, honey, I promise.” Olivia says and you glare at her as she exits the car.

“You better!” You shout as she walks away, and you lock the door before leaning your head against the window.

You’re daydreaming and thinking as you wait for Olivia, when a classic red mustang pulls up beside the car, the top down.

And it’s Ellie-

the girl you met at the party last night.

In the passenger seat, is a pretty blonde girl, a joint hanging from her lips, and her long hair pulled behind her and braided.

Her music is loud, and she sits with the car running for a minute as she takes a drag from the joint when the blonde passes it to her; then she turns her head to the side, blowing out smoke, her eyes meeting your stare.

You blush and turn your head, but it’s not enough; she turns the engine off and steps out of the car.

“‘Sup, pretty girl!” Her freckled face is pressed against the window, and she is smirking. You heat up even more at the nickname, and you begrudgingly roll the window down.

“Hi…Ellie.” You say softly, and her eyes are watching your lips as you say her name; and you shiver at her stare.

“Is there something you need from me?” You ask, cocking your head to the side and she chuckles.

“No ma’am, there isn’t. Just wanted to check on you.” She says softly and you blink at her.

“Are you serious?” You ask, and her smirk turns into a soft grin, as she leans against the car.

“Those type of parties…I can’t tell that's not your thing, so yeah I wanted to know if you’re alright.” Ellie says, shrugging her shoulders.

“Thanks for asking, I’m okay, and parties are so my thing.” You say, rolling your eyes and she just snickers.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” She says, and the bell on the store door rings, averting your attention, and you can see Olivia making her way towards the car, holding a small bag and a receipt, sending a flood of panic over you.

“Okay, well good talk…see you around, or whatever.” You say hurriedly, and she folds her arms, before looking at Olivia.

“Slow down, pretty girl. Yeah, we’ll be seeing each other around, but just in case you need anything from me, here’s my number.” Ellie says with a knowing grin before holding her hand out, to which you quickly plop your phone in her hand, as she types in her number and name.

Olivia finally approaches the car, a puzzled look on her face and Ellie chuckles. “I’ll be seeing you, Y/n.” She says before walking into the store.

You’re pointedly looking away from Olivia when she finally gets in the car after pumping the gas and she stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Why the hell were you just casually chatting with Ellie Williams?” She asks, and you sigh.

“Oh my god, why are people freaking out about this? She’s just a girl, what is all the fuss about?” You ask, exasperated and she shakes her head profusely.

“Y/n, Ellie is not just some girl! She’s a drug dealer first and foremost…and she’s, well…y’know.” Olivia says awkwardly and you turn to face her.

“Ellie sells drugs? That actually makes sense.” You say with a hum before Olivia side eyes you.

“Liv, what is your problem? It’s not like we’re best friends or anything, or even friends. We met at the party last night, she defended me from a weird, drunk guy, let me take a hit from her joint and that was literally it. When I said she was just some girl, I meant it. It’s not that big of a deal.” You say, reclining back in the seat and she bites her lip, shaking her head as she starts the car.

“So, why did she ask for your number, then?” Olivia finally asks and you freeze in your position before groaning exaggeratedly.

“I don’t know, honestly. Maybe…maybe she wants to be my friend. She was super nice to me, and she doesn’t even know me.” You say softly, your words airy now and Olivia snorts.

“That girl doesn’t want to be your friend…she’s a lesbian, Y/n. She probably wants to turn you out or something; I can tell you one thing for sure though…Ellie Williams is bad news.” Olivia says, and you turn your head again, before flipping the radio on and turning it up, desperate to shake Olivia and Grayson’s words out of your head.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Another day, another chapter! Tbh this was totally like, a filler chapter but an important filler chapter since the next chapter definitely kicks things off!

Anyways, regardless of this being a semi-filler chapter, if you enjoyed- comment, like and reblog!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#Ellie Williams x reader##Ellie Williams smut#lesbian#the last of us fanfiction#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie williams #wlw fiction#ellie x fem!reader #bisexual #vermillionsappho #vermillionsapphoworks

#lesbian #vermillionsappho #vermillionsapphoworks #abigail anderson #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x reader #the last of us fanfiction #wlw fiction

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simplyundeniable98 · 1 year

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Let Me Go *E.M*

Synopsis ~ Eddie Munson was perfect. Perfect boyfriend, perfect musician, the perfect man. Until he wasn't.

Warnings ~ lots and lots of angst :), cheating, dishonesty, brief mention of sex, mention of alcohol and drug consumption, curse words, use of y/n, reader standing up for themselves as they should, no happy ending? (to be determined.)

Word Count: 1.8k

Hawkins was a dreary shithole. The town was meant to chew you up and spit you right back out with no remorse. Everything was plain. Ordinary. A seeming picture-perfect town with picture-perfect residents who followed all of the rules, colored inside the lines, and fit in perfectly.

But not Eddie. Your Eddie.

Eddie Munson had squeezed his way into your dreary little life and made everything just a little bit brighter. More bearable. The once dull town seemed less and less dull by the day as you spent more time with the boy. He showed you things no one else had ever bothered to do before. Made you feel things no one has ever made you feel before.

He was your first everything. First boyfriend, first kiss, first love, the list goes on. Eddie Munson had your heart cradled in the palms of his guitar-calloused hands.

It was so perfect. Too perfect. Eddie Munson said he'd love you until the day he dropped dead.

After the treacherous years of high school, all of the endless band practices, and countless shows at shitty bars filled with drunk old men and underage teenagers, Eddies band finally caught some attention.

Turns out, a producer out of Indianapolis just happened to stop for a drink on his way out of town the night Corroded Coffin was playing. He thought the band had potential and so Eddie signed the contract that night. The world was finally going to see your Eddie the way he deserved.

God, he was so excited. You both could barely contain your excitement on the way back to his trailer, giggling all the way into his bedroom. He whispered promises of the future the two of you would soon have as he fucked you into his sheets. The night was filled with love and excitement.

Corroded Coffin's pitiful audience of five drunks soon turned into sold out tickets, crazy obsessed fans, and radio shoutouts.

City after city. State after state. You followed. Every album, Every song, every recording, every single show. You were there. You stood on the sidelines cheering on your boyfriend as if you were his biggest fan. And truth be told, you were.

He always looked so carefree. His unruly curls whipped around him as he thrashed around. He was in his element. And he looked damn good doing it.

You were beaming with pride. Seeing Eddie on that stage never got old. It was like a completely different person took over when he hit that stage. He was born to perform, you knew that for a fact. This was the life he was supposed to live. Eddie the freak Munson was long gone.

That night in Cincinnati had been no different. As always, he left you in his dressing room with a quick peck to the lips mumbling "meet me back here after the show sweetheart" and then he left to join the band backstage to do their usual pre-game of god knows what. You had learned to stop asking. It was better to assume that Eddie knew his limits than to question him.

You made your way to the audience where you stood front and center waiting to watch the all too familiar set you had heard the last three nights that week. You never complained. You'd do anything for Eddie, and if this was his dream then you were gonna do everything you could to support him.

The show went well. Everything had gone as planned as the band finished off their last song and said their goodbyes. Getting through the countless metalhead, groupies, and wads of smoke was always the difficult part.

After about 30 minutes of weaving in and out of endless fans and staff, you finally got backstage as you made your way down the hallway passing Gareth as he had a brunette pushed up against the wall.

He broke away from the girl as you stepped aside to pass him. "wait y/n don't go in there" he reached out for your arm as you turned to look at him confused. "he's uh-" he stopped and swallowed "he's getting changed" you laughed. A little confused as you remove your arm from his grasp. "It's fine Gareth, nothing I haven't seen before"

Something was clawing from deep within your gut. You couldn't pinpoint exactly what the feeling was but it felt like your heart was caged inside your chest.

Ignoring the anxiety creeping up your chest you grab the dingy metal doorknob and twist pushing the door open enough for you to peek through.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took in what was in front of you. Eddie sat spread on the couch and draped over his lap was a girl that was definitely not you. She was blonde and her hair was teased, and she was wearing a god-awful leopard print maxi dress that was pushed up to her hips from what you assumed was from grinding on your boyfriend's dick.

Startled by your entrance like he wasn't the one that told you to come back here to meet him after the show, Eddie frantically pushed the girl off his lap scrambling towards you. "Baby wait I can explain-"

You shook your head closing your eyes to try and rid of the sight before you. "Save it" you spat before turning heel and leaving the room.

It’s funny how time works. It feels like just yesterday the two of you were teenagers again sharing joints on his dingy old couch. Nothing mattered but the two of you. Eddie Munson said he’d love you until the day he dropped dead. And he did. The Eddie that you once knew, the sweet boy that had given you so much of what the cruel world had only wanted to take, was buried six feet under. You were left with the shell of a man that smelled of expensive whiskey and cocaine. Your boy was long gone, taken away by the cruel world that was fame.

As you sped down the hallway you could hear Eddie yell something that sounded a lot like "Get the fuck out of here" and something smashed against the wall.

He didn't follow you. Didn't run after you to try and explain himself. He knew what he did.

That was two months ago.

It had been two months since that dreadful day you still couldn't shake.

You should be over it by now. You moved back to your hometown with the hope of rebuilding the life you left behind to follow Eddie and his dreams. You have that pretty house you've always wanted with the white shutters on Rainy Avenue, and a well-paying job that left you with more than enough money. Everything was perfect. Except you still couldn't that damn night out of your head.

Four years. Four whole years of a relationship thrown down the drain for some groupie he probably was too high to remember the name of.

Eddie Munson never left your mind. He stayed there tucked away. He was branded to you. Stuck like a sickness you couldn't get rid of. He was unforgettable. You had never met anyone like him, and you probably never would for the rest of your life.

Eddie had stayed with the band and finished out his tour. He didn't once try to call. His silence was the confirmation you needed. It was over. You just needed to accept that and finally get the hell over it.

The knock on your door startled you as you set your book down on the coffee table in front of you and got up to answer the door. It was a Sunday afternoon so you weren't sure who would be showing up at your doorstep but you opened the door regardless.

You froze.

Eddie Munson stood on your front doorstep.

You gasped and moved to shut the door in his face. "Wait" he shouted sticking his arm in between the frame and the door. "Please let me explain." You took in a shaky breath moving to the side to let him in.

He looked like shit to put it nicely. His hair was frizzy and messy and he had bags under his eyes that made it look like he hadn't slept in weeks.

Eddie had found out where you lived through Dustin. Although the younger boy was hesitant to tell him after hearing the rumors around town of what Eddie had done, he knew Eddie had the right intentions.

Eddie smiled to himself as Dustin read off the address. You finally got that house you wouldn’t shut up about back when you were teenagers. Every time you passed that house, you would get so excited and tell him “that’s gonna be our house one day Eddie.” His heart clenched at the memory of what the two of you used to be.

"go on, speak" you spat looking into his eyes for the first time in months. He hesitated mouth gaping open like a fish, almost like he wasn't expecting you to be so harsh.

He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "I was drunk. And high. Like really high. I had no clue what I was thinking sweetheart I'm so sorry. I haven't stopped thinking about you since that night, I can't lose you." You sniffled already feeling the familiar burn of tears brim your eyelids.

"I was so shitty to you baby. You were there every time. Every time I needed you, you were right there. I couldn't have asked for a better partner and I took you for granted. Please forgive me. Please, I can't do this without you y/n". His voice started to break as tears started to roll down his cheeks.

You wiped the stray tear off your face taking a step closer to him. "Eddie, do you even know the extent of the shit I've been through because of you" Eddie interrupted grabbing your arm as he took a step forward closing off any extra space between the two of you. "I know baby and I'm sorry I'm so-"

You shook your head bringing your finger to his chest "No Eddie you listen to me. I left everything for you. Everything. I left my home. My Family. Hell, I followed you around like a fucking sick dog while you went and did god knows what while I sat sidelines like one of your little fans." you laughed as he looked down at his feet avoiding your piercing gaze.

"I loved you, Eddie. Hell. I still love you but what you did to me was shitty. I was nothing but supportive of you and you practically spit in my face." He looked up at you. His big brown eyes showing nothing but guilt and regret.

"Baby please forgive me. I'll give it up. All of it. The band, everything. Please just have me back. I need you". You started to cry. You cried for the relationship you once had, you cried for the boy in front of you who made a mistake you weren't sure you could forgive any time soon. You cried because you knew you loved him and no matter what he did that wouldn't change, you cried for the tone of his voice, which was nothing but regretful and pleading. The boy was practically begging you in your own home.

You took a deep breath trying to control your sobs as you spoke through ragged breaths " Eddie you have to let me go." You step back from him "You have to let me let you go". You looked down at the floor, too afraid to look up at him to see his reaction.

"I love you y/n" he spoke softly as he started towards your front door. His voice. God his voice. It sounded so hurt. So broken.

You looked up at the ceiling with the heels of your hands pressed into your eyelids finally letting out the cries you have been longing to release.

Wiping your eyes you start towards your bathroom when you stop in your tracks catching a glimpse of a piece of paper on your coffee table that was definitely not there before Eddie came in.

It was a note with handwriting you knew all too well. There was a number scribbled messily on the top of the page. His number.

"If you ever need anything, my number is right there. I'll wait for you even if it means forever. I love you - Eddie"

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader fanfic #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader

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waterlilylullabies · 10 months

Text

𝓑𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓼: 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮

Nobody’s Child

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence against women.

The Waking World

The woman Belle called Mother taught her two things. The first: you can make almost any meal go further if you add some lentils. The second: you don’t belong to anyone.

Belle remembers; the gentle chafe of hardwood on her bare feet, the early morning cool of the cabin, the woman’s hands braiding her hair, cigarette smoke, heavy sighs. The woman left one day, didn’t come back. They arrested a man in the nearby village but Belle never found out what happened next. By then, the cabin in the woods and the woman called Mother were already fading like dreams in daylight and Belle was adopted by an elderly couple longing for a child of their own.

Mimi and Chester were gentle and sweet. Mimi, a former ballerina, taught her to dance, Chester taught her to douse for water. The trio lived in perfect harmony for fifteen years. Until the old couple passed away one autumn, Mimi went first and Chester followed. Quiet, uncomplicated deaths, like flowers after the first frost.

And Belle remembered that she didn’t belong to anyone.

She packed her bags and started moving. She marvelled at the distance she could put between herself and the past. She worked odd jobs, slept in parks, slept in grand hotel rooms, slept beside strangers. She realised she had a knack for languages and where that failed her she discovered a proclivity for flirting.

Years passed.

Even if the body is strong and the mind is quick, sooner or later the soul will dig its heels in and say; I want to rest, I want to sleep in the same bed, see the same faces. The soul begs for boredom even as it cries out for wonder. So Belle gave in, came to rest in a nothing place. She would spend the Winter there and then she would be gone.

It is perhaps unfair to call the town a ‘nothing’ place. Everywhere is somewhere after all, though Pleasance (that was the town’s name) subscribed to this notion only tentatively. That was partly why Belle decided to stay there, she believed that a spell in Pleasance would cure her eternally of the need to put down roots.

There was one feature of interest in Pleasance and that was the local dive bar, The Venus Lounge. The name was preposterous, given its general state of disrepair and the fact that it sat between a disused canning factory and a woman’s clothing store long since closed. It was a garish little place and the rumour among the great and the good of the town was that there was nothing the girls who worked there wouldn’t do for a price.

Belle took a job there faster than you can say ‘damnation’.

The Dreaming

Dream of the Endless is wracked with guilt. He summons his librarian.

The sky is slate grey, a thunderstorm seems imminent. Lucienne makes her way to the throne room as swiftly as she can.

The Dream King stands in the centre of the hall, gazing half heartedly at the constellations above when she arrives. He looks awful, weary, woe-begotten.

“My Lord? How can I?-“

The King of Nightmares has no time for pleasantries today. “Lucienne I have caused great suffering.”

Lucienne is momentarily torn between agreeing with him and asking which particular suffering he is referring to, but elects to keep her mouth shut.

“I made a promise” he intones “over two thousand years ago, to a Siren. I swore an oath of protection, which my imprisonment prevented me from keeping, now I fear the world will suffer for it.”

Lucienne lowers her head “Ah, I see.” Lucienne knows something of the story, a promise made in a cave, a child to be entrusted to the King of Dreams. That much she gleaned from a dog-eared scroll in the library. The rest she learned from the child’s mother.

Lord Morpheus has wandered to the foot of the steps leading to his throne, outside a gentle patter of rain has begun to fall. “My Lord, during your imprisonment a creature came to the dreaming, she had with her a baby girl” He whips around, eyes wild. Lucienne steadies herself under the weight of his gaze “The crea- the woman called herself Thalia and she came with the express purpose of delivering the child, her daughter to you, but” Lucienne braces herself for the inevitable storm

“But?”

She heaves in a breath “When she saw the realm, as it was then, abandoned, she felt her daughter would be no safer here than in the Waking World.”

There is a moment of perfect silence. Then the heavens open, thunder shakes the foundations of the palace and lightning slashes the sky to shreds. “My Lord” he is not listening, “My Lord!” Lucienne raises her voice over the rising storm “There is every possibility the child is still alive!”

There is a loud crack of thunder. “The Waking World deals cruelly with her kind” he retorts, but his eyes give him away, he is desperate enough to hope.

“Only if she has used her powers My Lord.”

Another thunder bolt illuminates the throne room. “But a child, Lucienne” he whispers. ”A child will not know better.” Lucienne, whose patience never falters, clears her throat “Not a child, my Lord, that is, she would be nearly twenty five by now.”

This had not occurred to the King of Dreams, who for all his power, has never truly understood the passage of time outside his realm.

“There is a chance my Lord, that she is alive and well. All is not lost.”

Authors note: Very new to this, any and all feedback welcome! Thank you for reading!

#dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #dream x reader #dream of the endless fic #morpheus fic #morpheus x reader #morpheus #the sandman x reader #the sandman fic #the sandman

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random-iz-stuff · 1 year

Text

Incorrect quotes, now in text form instead of images:

==============================

Zim: If you elect me as president of the United States, I will personally burn the constitution on my first day in office.

Dib: Then what?

Zim: Funnel all the defence budget into building a time machine so I can go to the past and fight the Beatles.

Gaz: Change we can believe in.

==============================

Dib: You think being gay is hard??? Try telling people you’re only attracted to clowns.

Zim, without hesitation: Narcissistic ain’t cute Dib.

Dib: …

Dib: There’s literally no possible response I can make to this where I come out a winner. I’ve actually never been owned this hard before. I think I legally owe you money now.

==============================

Red: I just realized that not everyone can fit their fist down into a Pringles can. How do y’all survive?

Tak: I rip the can open with my teeth.

Zim: Raw strength or scissors.

Tenn: Pour it into my hand and then lick it up like a dog

Purple: I just realized that not everyone can fit their mouth around a Pringles can.

Skoodge: Smoke it like a giant joint.

Red: Damn y’all live like this?

Gir: I eat mine like a spider.

Red: WHAT. DOES. THAT. MEAN.

==============================

Dib: The person that invented hummus really was just like: “Man fuck these chickpeas *beats the shit out of them*”

Gir: I’m gonna invent powdered toes.

Dib: Honestly I don’t know what that means but I feel like you should go to jail.

==============================

Gaz: Is Zim okay?

Zim: Sometimes I get the overwhelming desire to eat two thirds of a brick.

Gaz: What do you do with the other third?

Zim: Feed it to my robot brother.

==============================

Zim: whos granny smith where shes getting all of these damb apples.

Gir: fun fact! granny smith is nabed aftr marea am smift frugh huh dibrack blarn eat showegh whale snert yargh hugh mort B.. ..b……hhngh… .. .. .…. … . ………… j

Zim: eeach day i learn some more ! :) thank you for the share

==============================

Zim: Just watched Shape of Water and like. Damn. She literally flooded her whole apartment for that fish dick.

Dib: Frankly it’s just like that sometimes.

Zim: It literally isn’t and I’m concerned.

Dib: Coward.

Zim: Fishfucker.

==============================

The Control Brains: We will make eye contact with you and connect to the wifi in your brain and delete half of your memories and make you left handed.

Zim: But I am left handed. And I already have a poor memory, so good luck finding anything worth deleting.

Zim: WAIT A MINUTE

==============================

Zim: Dirt.

Gir: mmmm… …tasty..

Zim: The D in dirt stands for “do not eat this please”.

Gir: But the I R T stands for “It’s really tasty”

==============================

Zim: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million monies?

Skoodge: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.

Tenn: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.

Zim: Good thinking!

==============================

Tak: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it

Zim: Just rip the bandage off.

Tak: It’s Tenn.

Zim: Put the bandage back on.

==============================

Zim: We need to get through this locked door. Skoodge, give me your credit card.

Skoodge: Here.

Zim, pocketing it: Thanks. Tenn, kick down the door.

==============================

Zim: What do you think Tenn will do for a distraction?

Skoodge: She’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

Skoodge: ... or they could do that.

==============================

Gaz: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Zim: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Dib: Smad.

==============================

Zim: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Skoodge: Wasn't Tenn with you?

Tenn: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

==============================

Recap Kid: Remember! Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!

#invader zim #incorrect quotes #Zim #dib membrane #gaz membrane #Gir #Tak #skoodge #Tenn

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archipithecus · 5 months

Text

13 - Mbinim - Seed

Pronunciation /mbinim/

Etymology From Proto-Pirngu *mbinim.

Noun mbinim (erg. mbinimmak, def. ti-minim, indef. mbinim-mang, int. mim-minim)

A seed, pit, stone, the hard central part of a fruit.

A seed, nut, grain, kernel, the hard object containing the embryo of a plant.

Flour, dough, or bread made from seeds or grains etc, but not from tubers or fruit meat.

An egg, typically bird or fish, roe.

Fish fry.

A fetus, embryo, child, see also pir (“child”).

A bead.

A pearl (I will probably make another main word for pearl, both the substance and object, later).

A pellet, grain, any kind of small(ish), round(ish), typically hard particle, like sand or gravel.

Testicles.

Semen.

A core, center, nucleus.

A product, result, consequence.

A precursor, cause, origin point.

A lineage of people, plants, domesticated animals.

An endearing term for small swarming things.

Verb mbinim (past. mbiminim)

To produce seeds.

To plant seeds.

To remove seeds from a fruit.

To extract roe from a fish.

To set up a situation for something to grow or progress, lay the groundwork.

To ejaculate.

Example Sentences

Ut attu tikki ri mbinim tak nda? — “You will pick seeds with me?”

Mbatti mit nda kunggun mbinim ku mbatti pa pam angur nda ka rakki — “Last season I planted and now I am overwhelmed by fruit”

Tauri ut ka mim-minim? — “Which lineage are you from?”, “You sprout from which seed?”

Tup ndumu ti-mining-gir! — “Kick his nuts!”

Purrat ik mbinim nggim, tungu rimat kir — “Don’t drop bird eggs, they will break”

Ti-nimu ti-wuram mbinim ka ti-wikkat — “The fish is dry because of the sun”, “The dryness of the fish is seed from the sun”

Ti-ngarwi nili mbinim ka pinam — “There is smoke because of fire”, “The floating of smoke is seed from fire”

An ndaraak raunik, kir mbinim-mang ka mbaru-mang ndiniim ku ikkjuma kir — “We lack meat because a seal grabbed and sank it”, “We lack meat, it is a seed from a seal who grabbed and sank it”

Tungu nda nua mbinim, ik muwu — “I want grain bread, not banana”

Nar na namu, kir mbinim-mang ka ti-narung nua ina-wirra — “The two women dance because they love each other”, “The two women dance, it is a seed from the love for each other”

#conlangs #lexember #kam pirngu

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messinwitheddie · 2 months

Note

1:Whatever happened to Yeet after Tallest Purple died? Where was she?

2:Cini doesn’t it burn when you let smoke go through your eyes? Why not blow it out?

3:Does Tak have a scar on her abdomen? What happened there?

4:Who would look best in a two piece swimsuit? Tallest Dava? Kii or Miyuki?

5:Dib’s son had kids, right? The twin babies?

6:Hows the professor coming along?

All very good questions, which is why I feel obligated to warn everyone cringe, self-indulgent answers are ahead.

1. Yeet ends up deserting the Irken empire altogether for Mem's hive. She agrees to let Zim downgrade her PAK, severing herself from the CB's core collective. She stays in Mem's hive and continues to perform lookout/ guard duties as well as assist Purple with certain everyday tasks, as he is rendered disabled after being cut off from things like his hovor belts/ smart gauntlets (hence why he often walks with a cane after being de-measured. The measuring process is very damaging to the body.)

Yeet also volunteeres to lead an exploration expedition across Mem's mystery planet to help gather information about the surface beyond Mem's hive's known territories. She helped Zim, Dib and Reg draw accurate maps and extensively document the flora and fauna of the continent the hive occupies and eventually the whole planet.

In between expeditions, Yeet volunteers to bodyguard the Resisty-serving Cantina Gir (or frylord “Gorr-May" as he is eventually knighted after earning the title of Frylord in his own right) secretly opens on Mem’s mystery planet. Gir/Gorr-May is only able to sneak away and cook at the cantina occasionally, as the CB full system takeover puts him/ his employees at a huge risk. His apprentice, Mem's daughter, Vicious, does most of the cooking for the cantina.

Yeet provides Mem's hive with a much needed boost in silk, as her “condition" never improves, so she volunteers her time to silk spinning, laundry and mending clothes. She makes dolls for the smeets/ other infant species in her spare time. Yeet enjoys much more meaningful enrichment after joining Mem's hive. She stays active, happy and very much appreciated there, even if her and Gir/Gorr-May never have a swarm of their own (a mutual agreement between the two if them.).

Where Yeet is exactly when Purple dies, is not yet determined. She is very upset when she discovered he had passed. She mourned him deeply; Purple was one of her best friends, despite everything. He even officiated her and Gir's union.

2. Cini has a bad habit of holding in when he puffs on his amber pipe because he believes the old superstition that doing so will increase the effects of the amber (somehow smoke is able to pass through Irken tear ducts in my personal head canon. This is unhealthy and unnecessary. Do not hold in smoke. Don’t smoke in general, in case any minors are ignoring my blog boundaries lol).

3. Tenn (whispering) “That's just a prominent stretch mark from our pregnancies. She's a little bitter. Mine all faded before hers, so just don’t bring it up. She trained our swarms to attack on command.”

Tak “I can hear you over there!”

4. Why do you have to pit 3 bad bitches against each other? ^0

5.You know what? I cannot for the life of me find the drawing you are referring to. Slowly but surely , I'm organizing my drawing room, but have yet to come across it. It is lost in tumblr limbo for sure.

I changed the story around since drawing/ posting that.

Reg temporarily cuts ties with both the Membrane and Van Verminstrasser families while in college during his early to mid 20’s. He goes through a whole para-spiritual/ environmental extremist fase. Part of the reason he joins Dib on his second trip to Mem's planet is to dodge arrest for “acts of environmental terrorism" in several countries. At some point in that time frame Reg sires a daughter, Prisha, shortly after his baby sister, Wyn, is born. (Dib and Mabel struggle to have a child for years before Mabel agrees to use ML’s cloning facilities. It's a whole thing. Yes, Dib is VERY upset he missed the birth of his grandchild.)

(Wyn and Prisha grow up to be close friends. Prisha regularly guest stars on Wyn's reboot of "Probing the Membrane of Science" show.

Reg and Prisha's life research/ field work is a major reason why Dib's great(s) grandson, Dro's generation of humans can still breathe clean air/ drink fresh water on Earth in the distant future.)

Dib is most likely holding both his daughter and granddaughter in that drawing. He and Reg slowly repair their bond, to the whole family ‘s/ Zim's relief.

6. Prof Membrane is very much enjoying his retirement by living his lifelong dream of exploring/ researching the uncharted depths of the earth's oceans. Dib is proud of his dad and extremely happy for him, but at the same time is constantly nervous something will go wrong and personally checks in on the Prof's research team/ inspects the equipment involved in the expedition.

[Slowly but surely I will start answering asks again soon. Been working on other things. Sorry...]

#invader zim #18-years-later #distant future #au #dib #prof membrane #tallest miyuki #irken #ocs #yeet #dava #kii

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meetmymouth · 2 years

Text

the intimacy of little things: iv

au ⌕ florist!harry x photographer!ofc

notes for this chapter: smoking and alcohol consumption

WC: 4k+ | PINTEREST BOARD | PLAYLIST

Bad dreams catch up to Harry on a Thursday night, waking him up at exactly five o’clock to his curtains dancing in the air due to the open window. It’s dark out, and the breeze is abusing every inch of his body; his legs, his toes especially, so Harry finds himself hugging his duvet even more, trying to catch the last bits of warmth that have been taken away by various nightmares. He looks around his bedroom, as if the place is alien, and he smiles as soon as his eyes detect a dark shadow by the door. It’s Bo, lying near a pair of his trainers– a pair he’s left there because he was too tired after work, and he’s snoring softly, his snores accompanying the whistling sounds of the passing cars outside.

He tosses and turns, trying to find a comfortable position, though the sleep won’t come. He keeps thinking about the dreams, the way he was being chased by something– someone, and once again finding himself at the house he grew up in, naked, and bruised. If he were to press his thumb on his thighs now, he knows he would feel the pain as fresh as ever. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he gets up, washes his face, and tries to get ready for the day as Bo watches.

He wears the same jeans he wore yesterday, then finds a jumper, already thinking about going back to bed once he gets home tonight. It’s cold, the flat, despite the heater being on, so he sips his tea in the kitchen exactly where most of the sunshine hits. He listens to the pigeons hum outside, with Bo munching on his kibbles by his feet as the sound accompanies the humming sounds. As he watches the baby blue sky outside, his phone goes off, and it brings a smile to his face, the smile widening as soon as he unlocks the phone and checks the text. He knew before looking at the sender who it was from. He knew from the text tone, so it’s no surprise the smile gets bigger and bigger while he reads the ‘good morning’ text accompanied by a selfie, and a photo of Talulah’s new favourite slippers.

He leaves the house with a smile on his face, and remembers to text his sister right before putting the car in drive. She responds right away. He sends back an emoji. It’s easy– life, right now, is easy.

He walks inside the shop five minutes later than his usual time, though no one bats an eye as they each give him a smile and a series of ‘good morning’s follow close behind while he keeps walking to the back. There had been an influx of orders, some from parents who would be attending graduation ceremonies and some by hopeless romantics, though Harry still finds something for him in each order, smiling at some of which included a message– a note for the recipient. He lifts up his head when he hears heavy boots walking towards him, says hello back to Jo, and they roll up their sleeves and crack on with Jo starting with a beautiful but modest sunflower bouquet while Harry gets his hands on a bouquet of roses, each collected from the fridge at the very back of the room. The antique radio on the counter sings as they work. It’s Beach House. Harry can’t help but sing along: ‘You should see– there's a place I want to take you’.

He trims the roses best to his ability, hands reaching for more cocculus to add in between, and he just places them sparingly amongst the red, dazzling roses. He brings them up to his nose, to smell, and a smile appears on his face at the sight– they’re soft, and some harsh– prickly under his nose, but they look breathtaking, almost as if the bouquet is a photograph. The radio plays another tune, indie he reckons, and Harry keeps adding and removing things, finally deciding on a few gypsophila– baby’s breath, to make the bouquet look a bit softer, sweeter. While the tune in the background sings about the sweetness of a lover’s lips, Harry finishes the bouquet, ties the end, and places it on the counter with a satisfied grin, thoughts of a girl with stars in her eyes on his mind.

He turns to the sound coming from his left, and nods at something Jo has said, though his mind is elsewhere.

“Where’s Bo,” she repeats– Harry is sure of that. “Bring him around, will ya?”

He smiles at the mention of the Lab. “He’s out and about, on an adventure I believe.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

“Yeah.”

“So,” she nods, then starts placing her tools inside the pockets in front of her apron. “What’s their name?”

“Pardon?” Harry raises an eyebrow. He copies her, placing the scissors inside the little pocket.

Jo smiles. “Your head is on the clouds. Someone’s got you whipped, I can tell. We all can, really.”

“Have you been gossiping behind my back?”

“Yeah– we always do.”

“Piss off.”

“So?” She looks at him with a grin. “Name?”

Harry gives up. He has to. His face– his lips turn upwards before he can even say her name.

“Talulah,” he says. “Her name’s Talulah.”

It’s quiet until it isn’t at Wild at Heart. Getting two birthday arrangements and one baby shower, Harry thanks whoever or whatever’s up above for blessing him with work. For the most part, though, Harry spends the work day at the back, processing orders with Cam. They unpack some new flowers–delphiniums–which takes them about an hour, and have the ends of the stems sliced off. Cam brings three empty buckets and they place each flower into the buckets with such delicacy and care, and Harry smiles when she takes her phone out and captures a few shots of the flowers.

The back-house work doesn’t end there for Harry. He knows he’s got plenty of help at the shop, though he still loves doing everything on his own, especially cleaning. With the help of Finn this time, they do a deep clean at the walk-in– their giant refrigerator where the flowers are kept. It’s freezing in there, so they try their best to work with their coats on as they wipe each shelf, scrubbing dirt off of some and Harry remembers why he loves being so hands-on at his job. He realises how much he learns about his colleagues every time they’re stuck in the walk-in for hours, or at the back processing and unpacking orders. He learns about their girlfriends or boyfriends, their life at home, their favourite food or favourite restaurants. He loves it, learning more about the people he works with, and he reckons these are the things that make him excited about waking up, and coming into work in the mornings.

Harry picks Talulah up from her flat, and they drive to the restaurant with Talulah’s phone connected to the radio. Something happy plays in the background, at least it sounds happy to Harry. ‘I won't smoke if you don't no more/ 'Cause I know you hate the taste of it/ I don't wanna picture our firstborn/ If you've stopped discussing names with me’. Talulah sings along, and Harry thinks it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, despite her vocals being weak–her words–. She insists that he chooses the next song, so he takes her phone in his hands when they stop at a red light, and smiles when he notices The Kook’s ‘Naive’ on there. He chooses that one.

“How are we feeling,” Harry asks, referring to who’s waiting for them inside when he puts the car in park.

At first, she doesn’t speak, only looks outside her window, and it makes Harry feel uneasy all of a sudden. Uneasy, like she just realised what’s happening and what they’re about to do, and Harry fears she will make him turn the car around and take her back– anywhere that is not here. That doesn’t happen though, and she turns to him with a smile, hand already in the air as she strokes his cheek with her thumb. Harry leans into the touch with eyes shut, and basks in the warm feeling of her skin against his.

“I’m nervous,” she starts. “But not in a bad way, if that makes sense?”

Harry nods, turning his face a little so he can press a butterfly kiss on her palm. “She’s nice, I promise.”

“I trust you.”

“Good,” he smiles, nodding. They unbuckle their belts, and open their doors at the same time. “Let’s go.”

When they get out of the car and Talulah holds onto the hand Harry extends, he takes his time to look at her outfit.

Despite the muddy weather outside, she’s dressed in all white– white wide leg jeans and a turtleneck paired with a plaid coat that looks extremely cute and cosy on her. She holds her bag in her other hand just so she can hold Harry’s hand which he finds precious, and they finally walk inside Flat Iron. He knows from Talulah that their mutual friend Ariel is the head chef here, and that she’s also Daniel’s sister. Despite that, he isn’t that bothered, as long as they have a great time tonight.

They’re greeted with smiling faces and nods when Harry gives Gemma’s name, and they pass table after table, finally reaching the table his sister is sitting at. She looks up, dressed in a red blouse with a pussy bow, and their eyes meet, then her gaze is turned to Talulah. She looks her up and down– only briefly, then at last, smiles.

“Hello, you two,” Harry welcomes her hug, pressing his cheek in the crook of her neck.

They pull apart, Harry feeling Talulah’s anxious gaze on them, and Gemma gives her a dimpled smile.

Harry speaks first.

“Gemma,” he smiles at Talulah, his smile widening when she notices her fixing her jeans. “This is Talulah, my girlfriend.”

It feels good, to be able to say that out loud, it feels wonderful.

“Hi,” she says, extending her hand, voice silky and honey-like, but still shy. “Nice to meet you.”

Gemma chuckles, and ignores the hand as she goes in for a hug. They hug briefly, Gemma returning the greetings, and they finally sit down.

“I don’t get to see Harry this much. Not twice a month, at least,” Gemma quips, earning an eye-roll from him.

“Gemma.”

“I’m just taking the piss, Harry, relax.”

“Well,” he quips back. “Don’t.”

When he turns to Talulah, he finds her smiling at them both, so he does too, placing his hand on her thigh as they start talking about Talulah’s job. She sounds confident, though Harry knows by now that that’s not how she feels deep down. He knows from the way her hands seem to shake from time to time when she goes to take a sip from her water, and the posh accent that comes into play whenever she feels nervous. Despite all that, Harry watches with a smile on his face as she talks about her job, and when he looks at his sister, their eyes meet.

She tells him everything he wants to know with just one look in her eye.

“Did you think about the house, Harry?” Gemma says after a moment, placing her spoon down.

At the mention of the house, Harry grows frustrated. He feels Talulah’s muscles tighten, his hand still on her thigh, so he turns to her, giving her a look as if to tell her ‘I told you so’.

He clears his throat, and takes another sip from his water. “I did. And… I’m not buying the house.”

“Harry…”

“I’m not, Gemma. I think it’s time we let it go. Let it all go,” he nods. He feels Talulah’s hand on his as she gives it a squeeze. “I don’t want to talk about this any further. Especially not tonight, please.”

“Okay,” she agrees, and it’s astonishing how easy-going she’s being about it.

Harry nods, feeling grateful, and turns to Talulah.

He motions at his souffle. “Try mine.”

“Y’sure?”

“Yeah,” he grabs his spoon and digs it into the puffy looking dessert, then brings it closer to her lips.

She opens, and lets him feed her, though neither of them notice Gemma watching them intently, eyes darting between Harry and Talulah, bottom lip trapped between her teeth in thought. It’s just the little things, the sister finds herself thinking, such small things that come together and create such intimacy.

The intimacy of little things is what’s captivating about love.

Harry turns to his sister when she clears her throat, and watches as she downs the last bits of her wine. She reaches for her fork, and puts some more tiramisu in her mouth. When she’s done chewing, she nods like she has something to say.

“How did you two meet?” Gemma asks.

“At the shop– Harry’s shop,” Talulah says, making Harry raise his eyebrows.

He shakes his head, squeezing her thigh fondly. “We met at Ariel’s Christmas dinner.”

She looks up at him. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Harry chuckles, then turns to Gemma. “We’ve a mutual friend.”

Gemma nods, giving them a tiny smile. “That’s sweet.”

“How is James?” Harry asks, taking a sip from his water.

Talulah watches the interaction intently.

“He’s good. He’s on annual leave. Bored at home,” she laughs. “How’s Bo?”

“He’s fine. Still lazy. Still looking to adopt a cat?” Harry asks, hand finding Talulah’s under the table as he intertwines their fingers. He turns to Talulah. “She’s obsessed with cats and other people’s pets in general.”

Talulah laughs. “Cats are my favourite–”

“–Excuse me?”

She turns to Harry, and reaches for him. She squeezes his chin playfully. “Bo aside.”

“Right.”

“You two are disgustingly cute– and yes,” she nods. “I’m still looking to adopt a cat. We’re just waiting until we move to a bigger house.”

He knows where she’s taking this, so he changes the topic, asking more about her job and new position. They joke, laugh, and get tipsy on wine, and Harry couldn’t be happier. He doesn’t drink much, since he’s driving, but watches Talulah get more giggly on wine with a smile on his face. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, having Talulah and Gemma in the same room, talking and joking about anything and everything.

He’s lucky, he knows as much.

When they’re saying goodbye in the carpark, Gemma hugs Talulah first, pleasantries and ‘so nice to meet yous’ flying in the air, and Harry notices how she hugs her a beat longer, and whispers something in her ear. With furrowed eyebrows, he watches them pull apart, and the smile on his face is back when Talulah’s hand finds his right after they pull apart and say ‘good night’. Hand in hand, they walk to Harry’s car, and he doesn’t let go before bringing her hand up to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss at the back of her hand, then on her palm. When they’re in the car and Harry turns the key, the radio comes alive, the song still playing softly as he puts the car in drive.

“So,” Harry sighs when they arrive at Talulah’s flat. “Thoughts?”

“About what? Your sister?”

“Yeah… about tonight… anything, really.”

She smiles. Unbuckling her belt, she reaches for him, placing her hand on his cheek. “She was lovely, like I said. And I had a wonderful time, Harry.”

He leans into the touch, eyes closing only for a moment before he opens them, and takes the sight of her in. She’s smiling as her thumb strokes his cheekbone, and Harry smiles, too, reaching just like her to stroke her bottom lip with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “So, so beautiful,” he adds, smiling when she looks down.

She brings him closer to her by the neck, closer until their lips finally meet in a heated kiss. It’s warm, both their mouths, and so wet, though neither of them seem to mind the sloppy, lazy kiss. Harry bites her bottom lip, earning a soft moan as she tries to keep up with his kisses. She tries, so hard, and bites his bottom lip playfully, in spite of him, and they both chuckle into the kiss, mouths open and warm breaths hitting each other’s lips. He keeps pressing tiny kisses down her chin, to the side of her neck before he licks across a particular area on her neck, then grazes his teeth over the now-wet flesh ever-so-gently, clearly hoping to leave a faded mark.

“Come upstairs,” she whispers, making him smile.

All he can do after that is nod, and Talulah watches as he locks the car and catches up to her before they go up the stairs. Her hand works the key, and they enter into the flat’s warm embrace, the smell of fresh laundry and the food she’d probably cooked from earlier hitting every sense and fibre in his body. It’s a home, it’s warm, and it’s her space. So, being able to witness all this, being in her home, her space, means the world to Harry. He feels safe.

She goes straight to the kitchen, turning the kettle on like it’s a practised act. And it is, he knows it is.

“Tea?”

“Sure.”

“Go sit down, I’ll bring it to you,” she gets their mugs ready, then takes the milk out of the fridge. “I’m gonna put some honey in mine, would you also like some in yours? I’m craving something sweet.”

Harry purses his lips in thought, then nods. “Sure, babe.”

She smiles, pulling the jar of honey closer, and she gets a spoon out of the drawer. There’s a beat of silence, sans the kettle, so Harry watches her fiddle with her phone until the speakers come alive. It’s Paul McCartney’s ‘Arrow Through Me’, which makes him smile and hum along to it as she works in the kitchen, filling both their mugs with hot water. She pours the milk with such concentrace on her face, then opens the jar for honey. He watches as she puts a small amount in both of their mugs, then brings the spoon to her mouth and licks it– licks it good, and throws it in the sink.

“I’m glad your sister understands you regarding the house,” she says, sitting beside him as their mugs sit on a pair of coasters. “Right?”

Harry hums, reaching for his mug. “I hope so. I hope she didn’t just say that because you were there.”

“Would she do that?” Talulah’s brows furrow.

“She would, yeah. She’s done it before. Not this time, I hope.”

“Hope so, too.”

“Thanks again, for coming– it made me really happy.”

She smiles, an ‘aw’ leaving her mouth as she carefully grabs his cheek and brings him into a sweet, innocent kiss. She pecks twice, then reaches for her own mug.

“Thank you for asking me. I had a lovely time, Har.”

He smiles. “Forgot to tell you,” he says, making her look up. “Jeanette phoned this morning.”

“Oh.”

Harry bites his bottom lip, like he regrets sharing that piece of information with her. “I’m– sorry, I ruined it, didn’t I?”

“Harry,” she sighs, placing one hand on his knee. “You didn’t. She’s your client. If anything– I feel terrible still, for making you leave in such a hurry. You had a job to do–”

“–I don’t care, T. She just– she phoned and thanked me. She was, well, she tried asking about you but I was quick to shut it down. We hung up after that.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, taking another sip from her tea. “She phoned me as well. Oh– I have an appointment with that therapist. This Friday.”

“You do?” Harry smiles, hand finding hers on his knees. He squeezes. “That’s lovely– amazing.”

“Yeah. I’m nervous.”

“About?”

“Where to start… and that sort of thing but– don’t really want to talk about that at the moment. Tonight’s been lovely.”

He yawns into her palms. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

They both know what’s about to come. So, when she surges forward and captures his mouth with hers, neither of them are surprised.

Days go by, weeks catch up to one another, and on another Friday, Talulah finds herself in yet another therapy session. This would be her fifth session, having them every week, after work, and she could feel the change creeping in, the comfort of having another person whom she can talk to without worrying about saying the wrong thing and being judged. Of course, having friends like Zayn, and also Harry helped– she knew she could talk to them anytime she wanted, but having a therapist, she found, was liberating, having a stranger listen to you.

“Talulah,” Amanda walks over to her while she sits on the navy sofa. She looks up, and Amanda smiles. “Shall we go in?”

Without hesitation, she follows her into her small office, and takes her seat on the petrol green sofa, hands already on her lap as she starts playing with her fingers.

“How are you?” Amanda smiles, clicking her pen.

“I’m good, thanks. How are you?”

“Good, thank you… so, what have you been up to since last week?”

When she leaves the building, her phone goes off, and it shows Lauren’s contact on the screen. She asks if she’s up for a couple of drinks in Soho, so Talulah agrees, thinking she doesn’t have anything better to do on a Friday but go home and get in bed.

They meet at a pub with Lauren already two Margarita’s in, and she orders herself a beer, suddenly feeling like she can stomach the bitter drink.

Lauren takes a sip of her drink, and purses her full lips. “How was therapy?”

“It was good. I think we’re getting somewhere even though it’s been… challenging– talking about certain stuff. I like her.”

“That’s great, love,” she smiles, reaching a hand to squeeze hers. “I’m so happy to hear that. How is Harry?”

“Harry… he’s good!” She smiles at the mention of his name, missing him more than ever now that they haven’t seen each other since last week. “We both have been busy. I miss him.”

“Oh, babes, you’re way too cute. When do I get to meet him?”

“Oh. Uh, actually, I could text him and see if he would like to join?” She bites her bottom lip, suddenly nervous.

Lauren smiles, and nods her head enthusiastically. “Please!”

A text to Harry confirms that he’ll be there in half an hour.

Harry arrives, dressed in wide leg jeans and the jumper Talulah has gotten him. She can’t help but look him up and down, smile, and when their eyes meet from across the room, he smiles, too, his steps quickening to get her faster. She opens her arms as soon as he’s near enough, and they embrace each other for a little while, her head in the crook of his neck and his on her shoulder as he presses a kiss there, over her clothes, then another on her cheek before she does the same.

“Hey,” she says, looking up at him.

“Hey, yourself.”

“Thanks for coming, this is Lauren,” she turns to Lauren, finding him watching them with a grin on her face– though, she feels like it’s all the margaritas’ fault, the way she’s smiling.

Harry goes in for a hug, and introduces himself. “I’m Harry,” he smiles at her.

“Nice to meet you– heard so much about you,” Lauren looks at Talulah, the grin getting bigger by the second as she rolls her eyes at her.

They sit down, Harry orders a beer for himself.

Zayn and Jules arrive, and Harry looks so happy that Zayn could make it, presumably because he’s always so intimidating and ‘cool’ around people. They get along well, sit down and have a chat about work together, and Talulah enjoys seeing them interact– not just with Zayn but her other friends, too. She notices how intently he listens to every store her friends come up with, how he’s eager to learn more about them. They talk about a footie game after work sometime next week, Zayn immediately coming up with names who will be a good pick for their team– Harry and Zayn’s. So you guys are playing on the same team? Of course we are, Jules, have you seen his legs– he needs me.

They walk outside the pub hand in hand, Harry placing a kiss on her temple as everyone walks to their cars, but not before sharing hugs and ’see you soons’: ‘let’s do this again!’.

“Where’s your car?” Talulah asks, the two of them still in front of the pub, swaying side to side with Harry’s arms wrapped around her.

He tightens his hold on her, and kisses the top of her head, making her look up at him from his chest. She smiles at him, he copies, and they press their lips together, meeting in a tender, lighthearted kiss.

“There,” Harry motions at his car with his head, and she follows it. “I’ll drop you off,” he murmurs, kissing her nose one last time before they start walking in the direction of his Mini.

When she reaches for the aux cable, Harry chuckles, and places his hand on her thigh, just like he always did whenever they travelled together.

‘Watery eyes/ That howling wind, she's waving hi/ Her other hand's in mine/ Oh-oh, silhouette/ She's growing tall and fine/ She's got my back/ She'll follow me down every street/ No matter what my crime’.

to be continued...

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #florist!harry #florist au #harry #harry styles concept #harry styles angst #harry styles fic rec #harry styles smut #harry styles x ofc #harry styles fic

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makibeni · 1 year

Text

Ch. 27 -My Number One

Himeno took a long drag of her cigarette before letting out a slow puff, watching as the smoke dissipated into the night, blending with the starless, cloud covered sky. She stretched her arm over to the side, flicking it over the ashtray on the table beside her, contorting to make sure the cat curled up on her lap wasn't disturbed before moving her other hand back and rewarding it's patience with more petting. She savored these ever more fleeting moments of quiet contemplation she had, the cool night air blowing in her face and letting her sit alone with her thoughts. She didn't use to care much for solitude, not until it's absence from her life made her heart grow fond for such things. The unsubtle stomping of feet, muffled only faintly by the glass doors of her veranda notified her that it would soon be time for her to part from seclusion once again.

"THERE YOU ARE!!!"

Himeno illuminated her face with the embers of her cigarette once more before turning to Power and blowing a puff in her direction with a face of faux bewilderment.

"What's up?"

She said in a half strained tone, using up the last bit of breath in her lungs as Power finished an over-exagerated cough for dramatic effect.

*HACK HACK* "YOU-" *HACK* "KIDNAPPED MEOWY AGAIN!!! COUGH!!!"

Himeno raised her eyebrow at that last cough, a proposition to end their little charade if Power wasn't going to be so hackneyed about it, before going back to gently stroking the cat in her lap.

"I didn't kidnap anyone, Meowy just wanted some company and jumped into my lap is all, isn't that right?"

She punctuated her statement by moving her hand down and scratching Meowy's chin provoking a long drawn out purr, much to Power's chagrin.

"HEY!! S-stop that! You're not allowed to scratch Meowy's chin like that!!!"

Himeno's eye flicked in Power's direction like a hunter who's prey had just fallen for their carefully laid bait.

"Oh? Am I only allowed to scratch your chin like that then Powy~?"

Power puffed her cheeks and stared down Himeno, pouring every ounce of herself into a concentrated death glare, but she couldn't suppress the embarrassed blush gathering on her face.

"UGH!! YOU KNOW THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"

Himeno grinned at her, content in her her victory, before relinquishing Meowy from her lap. The cat dove to the floor and pranced over to Power's feet, rubbing it's face against her while letting out a soft purr. Power bent over to pick it up, bringing Meowy to her chest in a tight embrace, seeking consolation in her furry companion. She spun around on her heels and turned her nose up, awaiting the impending apology she deemed she was deserving of over Himeno's antics. She waited till another stiff breeze blew past her, clenching the cat in her arms closely and relenting, opening an eye at the smoking woman beside her.

Himeno's expression had grown sullen quicker than Power was use to. For a moment she thought to relish in it, at last Himeno's woefully absent conscience had finally caught up with her, her feelings lambasting her for all the grievous offenses she had thrust onto Power. 'Good' she thought, a well deserved and fitting punishment, she should take satisfaction in it. Instead she turned around.

Himeno's wistful wayward gaze was interrupted by a pouting Power perching beside her. She turned, clearly still lost in whatever train of thought stole away her attention, offering only an absentminded smile reflexively dispensed to sooth the girl by her side. Power remained dissatisfied with this response.

"What are you so upset about?"

Himeno still hadn't gotten use to Power's bluntness while her defenses were down, it was enough to snap her back to reality.

"Just thinking..."

"Hmph... It's about that small one from work you like so much, isn't it..."

Himeno let out a half-frustrated sigh, she'd hoped to have skirted around the issue with enough vague language until she found something else to occupy Power's notoriously short attention span, but the girl was being uncharacteristically resolute on the matter.

"Yeah..."

"She looked the same as she always does, what's the big deal?"

Himeno fixed her gaze upwards again, her eye seeking whatever stars were bright enough to find her through the clouds.

"I don't know what's happening with her, she's been looking more tired recently, and whenever I try to ask her what's up with her and Makima, she just clams up... I've just got a bad feeling about it is all."

"I don't see why it has to be my problem."

It was the most self centered way of phrasing it but Himeno understood what she meant, the two of them lived together, worked together, and spent most of their free time together, if something was upsetting her it was naturally going to spill over to Power eventually.

"I'm the one who helped set them up in the first place, I guess I'd just feel like it was my fault if something happened to her."

"So what? She's the one who wanted to be miss Makima's chewtoy..."

Power dipped her head to the side, thinking over for a moment if the words in her mouth would do more harm than good, before her paper thin inhibitions broke down seconds later.

"...you never care this much when I'm upset..."

She readied herself to stand, half hoping Himeno had gotten lost in thought again and didn't catch what she just said, but the hand atop her head put to rest such notions. Power turned nervously back towards Himeno, who'd since readjusted her stance and was now sitting with her full body turned towards her. She stared into her eyes for an uncomfortably protracted period before giving her a smirk.

"So, that's what's been bugging you Powy~, you just wanted my attention, huh?"

She readied herself for another flustered puff of anger but Himeno's touch stopped her, as she slid her fingers behind Power's ear and began to lovingly scratch her. She'd gotten surprisingly good at it, enough so that Power was unwilling to move for the sake of proving a point if it meant the sensation had to stop. She leaned into it, though keeping up her perturbed expression so as to be clear that she was merely tolerating this behavior and by no means enjoying it. Himeno's fingers traced the side of Power's jaw, gently resting her palm on the girl's cheek before moving down further and dancing under her chin with her long nails.

"Don't worry, I made a promise, remember? You'll always be my number one from now on."

#makima x kobeni #makima #kobeni #himeno x power #himeno #power #chainsaw man

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summerlovingbaby · 1 year

Text

Can You Handle That

Y/N nervously paced along the wall of what she assumed to be an empty hallway, it was the one quiet place in Hogwarts where Y/N could hear her own thoughts, the one place in Hogwarts were she didn’t have to look over her shoulder. Or at least where she thought she was alone, her well hidden hiding place was one Remus found years ago, Remus hardly came here to hide anymore, he found better places, but today this one was closest and he was avoiding the Slytherins.

Y/N dug around in the pocket of her robes until she found what she was looking for. A brand new pack of cigarettes, sent straight from America, a whole box of them. There were many things Y/N preferred in Britain, the air was cleaner, the streets were nicer, and they had better customer service, but Europeans didn’t know how to make a decent weed.

She tried every brand she could find, yet none of them settled the itch that settled deep in her lungs, she settled for the flimsy weak ones she managed to find, but as soon as she was able she sent an urgent letter home requesting that one of the only friends she had back in the states and demanded as many packs of smokes as she could send. A week later she received a large box full of red and whites, so now she could smoke and it would satisfy her.

She fumbled around her bag, looking for her lighter, her fingers grasped the cold metal and pulled it out of her bag. She stuck the cigarette between her teeth and attempted to light the lighter. The lighter was older than she was, but it was a gift and she would use it every time. It never failed her, not once, not when it mattered.

She pushed down the spark wheel, only a small spark of flame caught. She did it again, displeased to get the same result, she was just about to give up when she heard a voice behind her.

“ Need a light?” It was Remus Lupin, he leaned against the wall behind her, leg kicked up behind him, arms folded over his chest, wand in his hand sticking straight upright.

“ And you are?” she asked. Y/N knew exactly who Remus was, seen him roaming around the hall, wondering what caused that far off always thinking look in his eye. His brown hair settled messily around his ears, small circle glasses crooked on his face. His clothes looking rather dischelved, though that was nothing new. He always looked slightly flushed and windswept like he just ran a marathon.

“ Remus Lupin. Gryffindor.” he faked a over zealous bow and leaned against the wall again.

“ You’re Black’s friend aren’t you?” she asked knowing good and well who he was and who he was friends with. Y/N made it a habit to concern herself with people who could call her trouble. Remus wasn’t the usual kind of trouble, he was the nice kind, that’s what made him even more dangerous.

Remus used his leg to kick away from the wall and walked over to her, arms still folded over his chest, causing the brown polo he was wearing underneath to wrinkle.

“ That I am,” he said, he peered over the balcony with a few second glance then leaned over the railing and watched the stretch of grass, the kids praticing magic on the green, the people feeding bits of toast to the giant squid in the great lake. He listened to Y/N struggle to light a cigarette and muttered a spell to himself. The tip of the wand lit a small flame, and he turned around to offer it to her.

“ No thanks.” she said, she held up the rusty old metal lighter. Remus looked at the golden lighter, the figures etched into the metal and the shape of a protruding face. “ This one always works when I need it to.” she rolled it around her fingers.

Remus watched as she pressed down on the spark wheel, a flame lit on the end, only briefly, it just turned into a thin trail of smoke, leading up and out of the window. She jammed her eyes shut and muttered something to the lighter then pressed down on the spark wheel again, the flame lit and stayed lit long enough for her to light the cigarette.

She smiled and sighed.

“ I want to know how an American girl made the Slytherin quidditch team?” he asked suddenly.

“ Because I’m good,” she said simply. “That damn good.”

That answer was well enough for him so he sighed, and draped his body back over the balcony.

The room fell into silence, not the awkward kind with tense and hard air, but the simple sweet kind, the kind where no talking was necessary but they had a complete understanding of each other.

“ You’re not even going to offer me one?” he shrugged.

Y/N scoffed and dug the pack out of her pocket to inspect the label. “ You couldn’t handle american smokes.” she said.

“ I’m sure I can manage,” he said, she threw the pack of cigarettes and he caught them in his open palms, he fished one out of the box, jammed it in his mouth and used the tip of his wand to light it.

He was able to keep it in his mouth for 25 seconds before he yanked it back out coughing and sputtering, he was forced to grab the rail to support himself while he coughed. He pulled off his glasses to wipe the tears that pooled on his bottom eyelashes and his face turned pink and his ears turned red.

“ Told ya.” she said cockily, smiling so wide her smile took up all of her face.

“ Piss off.” he said through a wet cough.

“ Is your lung still in your chest?” she asked.

Remus didn’t respond, electing to focus all of his attention to trying to regain a suitable amount of oxygen, but he couldn’t help but get distracted with the Y/N, her hair that caught the sunlight and fell around her face like a halo. Her uniquely confident sense of humor.

She was pretty, the kind of pretty where people can’t help but notice. People tolerated Remus because of his skill, but he knew most people were genuinely fond of Y/N. You couldn’t help but be, she had her rough edges when you first met her, but she would smooth herself out eventually if she thought you were a good person. If she thought you were a bad one, her edges would only get rougher, and if she thought you were a bad one, then you were a bad one.

Y/N was a marvelous judge of character, but she tolerated Remus just fine, so Remus was fine with her.

Remus moved before he thought about what he was doing, he dropped the cigarette on the stone floor, and took two steps towards her, his eyes watching her lips as she smiled and laughed at his pathetic attempts to smoke, watched her lips purse into something in confusion at his sudden closeness. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her in, and pressed his lips to hers.

In the some total of his lifetime, Remus had kissed 2 people, one of them was Sirus on a drunken dare, the other was a muggle girl he meant while at home with the matron, They kissed in an alleyway. Remus remembered that she smelled like grease, and how unpleasant her lips felt on his.

If kissing always felt the way it did when he kissed Y/N he would do it more often. Her lips seem to slot perfectly against his, and she pressed her body on his that made his chest tingle. He could have kissed her forever and a day and it still wouldn’t be long enough. He wanted to memorize it, the way her plush lips felt, the way her hands felt as they crept along his sides through his sweater, they way his hands felt on her face, he wanted to memorize it all.

He pushed her away suddenly, Y/N tried to chase her, but he put a hand on her stomach to stop her. She opened her eyes slowly as light clouded her vision. The kiss left her breathless and she wanted to do it again, but by the time she adjusted to his absence, he had already turned around and headed to the door, only briefly pausing to sarcastically respond.

“ Can you handle that?”

taglist

#the maraunders map #marauders #remus loves chocolate #remus lupin #lupin x reader #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fluff

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snappedsky · 8 months

Text

Fanatics 99.19

One last stand-off against the Tallest.

Guys...guys...there's only two chapters left...

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

The Greatest in the Galaxy Part 19

“Zim! Wake up, Zim!”

Zim gasps awake and pants for breath. Kneeling over him is Kio, who sighs with relief. “Oh, thank the stars. I was worried you were really gone.”

“You couldn’t check my vitals with your goggles?” Zim asks. His whole body is aching and he’s having trouble moving.

She lifts her shattered goggles. “They were damaged in the explosion.”

“Explosion?” Zim questions and tries to sit up. Kio grabs his shoulders and eases him into an upright position so he can look around.

A heavy fog of dust and smoke is hanging in the air, obstructing much of the view. And more than that, Zim finds his own vision is blurring around the edges. All he can make out is the mech body lying not far away and figures dashing about through the smoke. Muddled, panicked voices can be heard nearby.

As Zim looks around, his hand bumps against something and he looks down to see Civ and Viv, lying unconscious next to him.

“What’s the status?” Zim asks, turning back to Kio.

“The head of the mech has been destroying, rendering it inoperable,” she replies, “the other Battalion members have been split up as a result. I do not know where they are. I believe they are alive, however, as Rory’s shield took the brunt of the Tallest’s blast. We were merely blown back by the force of the explosion. And your final blast after the explosion knocked down the Irken Tower. I would say we are at a stalemate.”

“Where’s Rory?” Zim asks.

“I’m not sure. I was more focused on you.”

Zim struggles to stand but his legs wobble beneath him like jelly. “We have to find the others. Gir, Minimoose. Wha-why won’t my PAK respond?”

He tries to get his transceiver device from his PAK but it won’t automatically open.

“You used up a lot of power with that last cannon blast,” Kio explains, “your PAK must be running on emergency power only. You need to refuel. Do you have a snack or something?”

“Yeah, in my PAK,” he replies. Kio opens it up and digs around inside. As Zim waits, he notices one of the cam-bots nearby, watching them.

“Kio,” he says, “do you still have your tablet?”

“Yes,” she replies, “mercifully, it was not destroyed in the explosion.” “Turn it onto the competition channels,” he orders, “maybe the other cam-bots have found them.” “Brilliant, Zim!” Kio cheers as she hands him a snack pack and sits next to him. She quickly turns her tablet onto the competition and they both watch closely as she flips through the channels.

---

“What happened to Squee?” Johnny demands.

“I don’t know what happened to any of them!” Devi snaps as she quickly flips through the channels. All that comes up are different angles of the walls of dust and smoke.

“I hope they’re alright,” Tenna mutters.

Skoodge, Carmen, Colton, and Maddie are quiet as they tensely watch.

“Wa-wait!” Devi cries as she stops on a cam-bot that’s swiftly closing in on someone lying on the ground. “There’s someone!”

“Who is it?” Tenna asks.

“It’s Squee,” Johnny replies, “it’s definitely Squee.”

“Is he okay?” Colton asks.

They’re quickly answered as the cam-bot reaches him.

---

“Squee. You gotta wake up now. Wake up, Squee.”

“Mmm Shmee...?”

Squee stirs awake, his eyes blinking open to find a cam-bot inches from his face. “Huh? You’re not Shmee. Wait!” He tries to sit up but a burning pain shoots through his side and he falls back down, crying out. He bites back screams as he looks down at himself. A terrible burn covers most of his stomach, the fabric of his shirt seared into it. “Oh, boy...okay...that’s pain...ugh.”

He squirms on the ground, somewhat writhing in pain but mostly wrestling his sweater off. Once he manages to shed it like a snake shedding its skin, he ties it around his abdomen, pulling it tight over his burn and groaning in pain.

He lies there for a second, unconsciousness pulling at his mind. He almost lets it until he notices something from the corner of his eyes. He looks over and sees through the dust and fog a pink light.

Squee pushes away his black out and rolls onto his side. “Get up. Get up.”

He winces as he falls onto his stomach and pushes himself up onto his knees. But when he tries to get higher than that, his body gives out and he collapses back onto his chest. He takes a few deep breaths and tries again but his legs won’t cooperate anywhere higher than a kneel.

“This isn’t working...” he pants and looks around. He notices the cam-bot watching him and he snaps his fingers at it. “Hey, you, cam-bot! Enjoying the show? Get over here!”

The bot hesitantly hovers a little closer. “Closer,” Squee demands impatiently, “come on, come on, it’s time for my close up.”

When the bot is within arms length, Squee catches it and wrestles it down until he’s able to sit on top of it. “Alright, this will work. Let’s go, cam-bot. To the pink light and quickly.”

The bot struggles to stay aloft and flies through the fog towards the light.

---

“Wake up, sleepy head.”

Pepito moans and rolls over onto his side. “Five more minutes...”

“Wakey, wakey!”

The shrill voice coupled with tiny, metal hands slapping his forehead knocks Pepito awake and he shoots up. “Ow, Gir! Wait, Gir?”

“Hi!” Gir cheers, waving his hand. Minimoose, who’s floating next to him, squeaks. A cam-bot is also with them.

Pepito looks around frantically. He’s on a random street and dust and smoke is clogging the air. Burns are scattered about his body and his clothes are tattered around the edges.

“Ugh, that’s right, that blast,” he says he stands up, rubbing his head. “Where’s everyone else?”

“I’unno,” Gir shrugs mindlessly.

“Where’s Zim?”

“I’unno.”

“You don’t know? Can’t you track him or something?”

“I’unno.”

“Ugh,” Pepito groans, planting his hands in his face. When he looks up, he spots a pink light beaming through the fog. “Guess I gotta do everything myself around here.”

He grabs Gir, Minimoose, and the cam-bot and tucks them under his arms. His wings extend from his shoulder blades and he takes off and heads for the light.

---

Tak was not knocked unconscious by the blast. She remembers every second of the explosion, the force that threw everyone in different directions, her spider legs barely catching a building to stop her fall, and the shock wave of dust and smoke that coated the nearby streets.

Now, her spider legs carry her up the building she’s on to the roof and barely pokes out of the dust cloud. As she looks around, Mimi bursts out of the fog and flies to her, swiftly followed by a cam-bot.

“Master!” the SIR unit exclaims.

“Mimi,” Tak nods approvingly and continues looking around.

“Where is it?” she asks in confusion. “The Irken Tower should be right...over...there... Tak trails off as she stares at the spot where the building used to stand, towering over all of the other buildings, but now there’s nothing there. “We did it? We actually brought it down?”

A smile creeps across her face than falls away. “Bit of a Pyrrhic victory right now. I hope the others are alright.”

Her spider legs carry her across the roof and leap to another nearby building as she heads for the site of the tower, Mimi and the cam-bot close behind. Along the way, she sees a pink light suddenly appear in the dust, right by the tower grounds.

“Fool,” Tak scoffs, “not like I need your help.”

---

Gaz blearily blinks awake. She’s on her back, lying on something hard, and being crushed by something on top of her, but it’s too dark to see what. She struggles to breathe as she tries to shove the thing off, exclaiming with exertion before finally throwing it to the side.

Dib cries out as his back hits the ground, the pain knocking him awake. He rolls onto his side and curls into a ball, writhing and twitching.

“Dib!” Gaz gasps and peeks at his back. It’s covered in a large burn, the fabric of his coat and shirt scorched into his flesh.

Gaz suddenly remembers the blast and subsequent explosion. Before the force knocked everyone away, Dib dove onto Gaz, protecting her.

“You idiot,” Gaz snarls and lifts up his head. “Hey, wake up!”

“I am awake,” Dib croaks, looking at her with heavy eyes.

“Good, keep it that way,” she snaps. She looks around but she can’t see much through the thick cloud of dust and smoke. “Where is everyone else? Where are we?”

Dib only groans painfully in response.

Gaz finally spots a pink light through the fog. She grabs Dib’s arm and wraps it around her neck, lifting him to his feet. “Come on, moron. We gotta move.”

Dib again groans as he leans against her, his feet dragging on the ground. “Mmm...you’re short...”

“You’re just stupidly tall!”

---

Zim and Kio flip through the channels as they watch their friends slowly wake up- or in Tak’s case, climb a building.

“They’re all injured,” Zim observes.

“That’s to be expected,” Kio replies.

“They won’t know where we are,” he states, “in my PAK is a flare. Fire it.”

Kio immediately obliges, firing the pink light into the air. It beams through the fog- a beacon for everyone to follow.

“Good, they see it,” Zim nods approvingly as he watches the tablet. “They’ll be here soon.”

“I’m worried though,” Kio says as she flips through more channels. “I still don’t see...”

“Guys!”

Zim and Kio turn at the voice and smile with relief. “Shmoopy!”

She quickly approaches the pair and crouches next to them. “Are you alright?”

“We will be,” Kio replies, “you?”

“A few burns and bruises,” she says, “nothing some ointment won’t fix. Where is everyone else?”

“They’ll be here soon,” Zim states and continues flipping through the channels. “But where’s Rory? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“That explosion was quite large and he protected us from it,” Kio muses, “could he have been...vaporized?”

“I refuse to believe that,” Zim snaps, “if Rory’s gone, then this whole plan will be hopeless.”

“It’s already hopeless.”

The trio look up at the new voice. Zim snarls as Red and Purple emerge from the fog. They both look a little worse for wear. Their faces are peppered with burns and their armour is cracked or dented. They’re even having a hard time hovering.

“Hello, Zim,” Red spits, “no surprise to see you alive. And trust me, Rory’s alive too. He wouldn’t be so easily destroyed either.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Purple adds, “this whole ridiculous revolution is hopeless. You and Rory could never stop us. And first we’re gonna destroy you, then Rory, and we’ll do it for the whole galaxy to see.”

“Then everyone will be reminded of our might,” Red concludes.

They’re PAKs open up and they aim two lasers at the trio. Kio readies a force field device but she knows it’s pointless. It’ll never hold against both of their attacks. And try as Zim might, his PAK still isn’t responding. Shmoopy finds herself next to useless, so she just squeezes Zim’s arm and waits for the end.

The lasers power up and Zim growls defiantly.

“Tallest!”

Everyone stops and looks up at yet another voice as Rory marches out of the smoke. He’s also covered in burns and walking with a limp, but he doesn’t falter and stands strong between the Tallest and Zim.

“Oh, good, we can destroy Rory first then,” Purple snarls.

“Enough of this,” Rory snaps, “just give it up. Let it end.”

“It’ll end when we win,” Red says.

“Enough grandstanding,” he retorts, “don’t lie. Your PAKs barely have enough power for those lasers, don’t they? Even if you did destroy me, or Zim, that one shot would be all you have.”

Red and Purple flinch. “Wh-that-that’s not-.”

“Enough,” Rory insists, “just stop this.”

Meanwhile, the Battalion emerge from different parts of the fog, stopping as they see Zim and the others. But they’re not the only ones. Irken soldiers and the alien resistance also approach, everyone drawn by the pink flare. Cam-bots follow all of them and focus on Rory from a hundred different angles.

“Don’t you see?” Rory asks, almost begs. “All of this fighting is pointless. This whole competition is pointless. ‘The Greatest in the Galaxy’. The galaxy is a big place with thousands of planets and countless different species. There can be no single greatest and there doesn’t have to be. We are all great.”

“Ridiculous,” Red scoffs.

“But it’s true,” he argues, “didn’t you see it when my army was fighting yours? Swifs, Mus’ules, and Techons weren’t just holding their own against Irkens, they were besting them. Those so-called lesser races were defeating us superior Irkens.”

“The reason Irk is considered the best is because we have cheated our way up there, using fear as a tool. But the truth is, the other races have no need to fear us. If they all teamed up and fought back, Irk wouldn’t stand a chance. And you know it too.”

Red and Purple flinch and glance at the surrounding crowd, and especially at the cam-bots.

“D-don’t listen to him!” Purple squeaks, “this is all...fake! Yeah, it’s computer generated! Don’t fall for it!”

“Purple,” Red hisses, embarrassed.

“Your true colours are starting to show,” Rory smiles, “the truth is, you’re afraid of everyone else. Because you know that there’s nothing more special about Irk than any other race. We are all great.”

“And isn’t it better that way? I mean, if there was only one great race, then the galaxy would be pretty boring.”

Dib, Gaz, Tak, Squee, and Pepito smile as they listen to Rory. Around them, the rebelling aliens chatter amongst themselves agreeably.

And they’re not the only ones. Across the galaxy, all of the viewing races also talk amongst themselves- in their homes, in restaurants, or on the street. And they share this speech with their friends who may not be watching, and those friends share with their friends, until the idea is spreading like wildfire.

On Earth, Johnny, Devi, Tenna, Skoodge, Carmen, Colton, and Maddie are also glued to the screen.

“Aw, I love an uplifting message,” Tenna chimes.

“Ugh, enough of this,” Red snaps and points his laser at Rory. “If we destroy you, then all of these lesser vermin will see your message is futile.” The Battalion flinch and try to rush forward.

“Fine, destroy me,” Rory shrugs.

The Battalion and Red stop, shocked. “What?”

“But you’re wrong,” Rory says, “my message won’t lose its meaning. The damage is already done. The idea is out there. You can kill me, but you can’t kill an idea. And even with me gone- with Zim or the rest of the Battalion gone- the revolution will continue. And you will be defeated by the united galaxy.”

Red and Purple growl.

“Irken soldiers, to our side!” Purple barks.

Immediately, the surrounding soldiers rush to their Tallest’s sides and take up arms. But just as quickly, the surrounding rebellion ready their weapons.

Zim stands on shaky legs but Shmoopy and Kio keep him upright. His PAK opens up and hands him his laser guns and Gir and Minimoose pop up by his side. Civ and Viv fly up next to Rory and stand ready beside him.

“You see?” Rory questions, “united, as the galaxy should be. What happens next is up to you. Shall you surrender peacefully and with dignity, or shall your devastating loss be broadcasted across the galaxy?”

The Irken soldiers glance around nervously at the surrounding army. They are heavily outnumbered and with the tower gone, they have no reinforcements or extra weapons. Their knees knock in their armour. “M-my Tallest?” Red and Purple are also warily eyeing the surrounding army, feeling the weight of the situation. They share a look and retract their laser guns back into their PAKs.

“A wise choice,” Rory nods, “we shall return to Irk. There, you will surrender your mantle of Tallest to me before the control brain. Don’t worry, I won’t demote you to service drones or anything. You can remain in the palace, living quietly, like I have for the last many sweeps.”

The Tallest don’t reply, just sadly hang their heads. In response, their soldiers drop their weapons and follow suit.

“Did you rehearse that speech?” Zim asks.

“Actually I improvised it,” Rory grins, “did you like it?”

“Eh, I could do better.”

They both laugh and a relaxing air settles around the crowd. The Battalion smile and start to approach, greeting each other as they get close.

With everyone’s attention off of them, Red and Purple glance at each other and snarl. Simultaneously, spider legs extend from their PAKs and fold into each other, creating a giant laser cannon that towers over Rory and the Battalion.

“Insubordinate brat,” Red snarls as the cannon powers up.

Everyone flinches and prepares to retaliate, but nobody is fast enough before the weapon fires.

The force of the blast is enough to blow away the fog of dust. All of the surrounding soldiers and cam-bots are knocked back and immediately blinded by the sudden sunlight. But as quickly as they can, they look back at the Battalion. Everyone at home also tensely watches the screen.

The Battalion are fine. They’re on the ground, knocked over by the force of the blast, but no more injured than they were before. They’re all looking up in stunned silence.

The Tallest stand over them, their weapon aiming at them point-blank. They stare down in stunned silence.

All of them are staring at the figure in between them, his PAK shield having blocked the Tallest’s attack with ease. “Enough, my Tallest.”

“What!” they exclaim.

“You,” Squee gasps.

“Zinather,” Zim breathes.

Zinather turns back to the Battalion. His face is marred in dark green burns, his eyes barely able to open all the way from the damage. But he stands strong, not wavering at all even after taking the Tallest’s attack.

“What...why?” Zim asks, flabbergasted.

“Because Mar was right,” Zinather replies, “there is something wrong with our empire. I just didn’t see it...no, I just refused to see it. Until I got some sense beaten into me by that...human.”

Squee flinches as Zinather points at him.

“And,” he adds, “until I heard Lord Rory’s speech. There is something wrong with the empire. But Mar was also right that it can be fixed.”

Zinather turns back to the Tallest. “It is over, my Tallest. Time to surrender to a new generation.”

The Tallest’s cannon retracts back into their PAKs. Red and Purple, who had been having trouble hovering this whole time finally collapse to their knees. The whole of the galaxy share a collective gasp, having never seen the Irken leaders ever touch the ground.

“Fine,” Red grunts, “we...s-sur-...surren...surrender.”

Another gasp.

“Just don’t blame us when this ‘new generation’ ruins everything,” Purple scoffs.

“Should we restrain them?” Gaz asks.

“I can,” Pepito suggests, black magic sparking around his fingers.

“No,” Rory replies, “their PAKs are too depleted of power to pose a threat. Besides, what happens next should be handled by Irkens. This is now my mess to clean up.”

“Then that means the revolution was a success,” Zim smiles and stands up. He points his fist to the sky and all cam-bots focus on him.

“Irk has lost!”

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myocs #myart

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kellyvela · 2 years

Note

While the previous anon went about it the wrong way I do there are some similarities between the hound and Jon:

1. Relatively similar coloring (Jon: brown hair and grey eyes/hound: black hair grey eyes)

2. Association to canines (Dog and Wolf)

3. Burn wounds (Jon on his right arm/Hound on the right side of his face)

4. Batb imagery.

But more than that I think the hound is a foreshadowing for future Jon. The hound is cynical, temperamental, and beast like individual who got ‘tempered’ by Sansa’s singing and gentle touch. Jon will likely be cynical, temperamental, and beast like when he’s resurrected and will need Sansa’s singing and gentle touch to be tempered. The hound is just as much a placeholder for Jon as Ygritte is for Sansa. Granted he has other purposes too, but one of them is to hint at Jon.

As I said in my previous post: "Yes, in general we can say they are both men, with grey eyes and dark hair, they are both member’s of military orders, they both showed romantic/sexual interest in girls with shades of red hair. But this is all very superficial."

So when you say this: "Relatively similar coloring (Jon: brown hair and grey eyes/hound: black hair grey eyes)", I remember the time I listed all the Asoiaf men with that traits combo (all shade of grey eyes and all shades of dark hair), and they are a lot, Littlefinger included, it's pretty common really. So this isn't a strong argument.

I know some hound shippers use "the northern look" in favor of their ship because that one time someone thought the hound was Arya's father (this is connected with Sansa's wish to have a daughter that looks like Arya), but any adult man seen with a child, is assumed to be the child's father, even if they don't look alike, because not all children look like their fathers. Ask Eddard Stark about his Tully look children.

And talking about Eddard Stark, a character that really looks like Arya, let's remember that time Ned referred to Jon as a younger version of himself. So the character that really looks like Arya (long solemn face, grey eyes and brown hair) is Jon Snow.

GRRM is very strict with traits and coloring. For example, there are a lot of blue-eyed characters, but among them the Tully Blue stands out. There are also many famous shades of red hair, among them the famous Tully Auburn and the Dondarrion Red Gold.

That's why I always object the "similar look" argument, because the Stark Look in particular includes not only grey eyes, but also BROWN hair and a long solemn face.

And you know who is very close to the Stark Look? Waymar Royce, a famous Jon Snow lookalike.

Now about this one: "Association to canines (Dog and Wolf)," GRRM has put a lot of effort into differentiating and disassociating common dogs and direwolves.

As I said before: "Direwolves are not dogs. Direwolves are not simple pets. Direwolves are superior in comparison. Also these particular direwolves, the Stark kids’s direwolves, are gifts from the Old Gods and part of their masters’ souls."

And this statement “Direwolves are not dogs” is repeated a lot in the Books, mostly through Lady and Ghost:

Jon had started drinking then, and he had not stopped. Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal.Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating. —A Game of Thrones - Jon I

Eddard Stark had left before dawn, Septa Mordane informed Sansa as they broke their fast. “The king sent for him. Another hunt, I do believe. There are still wild aurochs in these lands, I am told.” “I’ve never seen an aurochs,” Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen. Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread. “She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. “Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want.” The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.” She scowled. “And where is Arya this morning?” “She wasn’t hungry,” Sansa said, knowing full well that her sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook’s boy. —A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

Rattleshirt’s dogs greeted him with a chorus of snarls and growls and wild barking, as ever, but the direwolf paid them no mind. Six days ago, the largest hound had attacked him from behind as the wildlings camped for the night, but Ghost had turned and lunged, sending the dog fleeing with a bloody haunch. The rest of the pack maintained a healthy distance after that. —A Storm of Swords - Jon I "They’re dogs and he’s a wolf,” said Jon. “They know he’s not their kind.” No more than I am yours. —A Storm of Swords - Jon I It happened twice more that night, and again in the morning, when she woke to find him hard. The wildlings were stirring by then, and several could not help but notice what was going on beneath the pile of furs. Jarl told them to be quick about it, before he had to throw a pail of water over them. Like a pair of rutting dogs, Jon thought afterward. Was that what he’d become? —A Storm of Swords - Jon III

Sansa woke and found the old blind dog beside her once again. “I wish that you were Lady,” she said. —A Storm of Swords - Sansa VI

Just look at that, Jon and Sansa telling us that they are wolves and common dogs aren't good mates for wolves. Wolves must mate with wolves.

Then you said: "Burn wounds (Jon on his right arm/Hound on the right side of his face)"

If I'm not remembering wrong, Jon only got his hand burned, that's why he started to use gloves and flex his hand because his scarred fingers got stiff and clumsy. And the hound also have a burned arm, don't remember what side, but it happened during the trial by combat with Beric Dondarrion. And here I can accept the similarity of getting a hand/an arm burned while fighting against someone who is dead [a man resurrected by the Others (ICE)/a man resurrected by R'hllor (FIRE)]. But this is something that has not direct link with Sansa.

The link between Jon and hound with the death is something that I can't deny, Jon called his direwolf Ghost and he was supposedly "murdered" by his brothers of the Night's Watch, while the hound called his horse Stranger and he metaphorically died at the Quiet Island. But they both share this connection with the death with Arya, who now serves the God of Death, not Sansa.

I know that Lady (a part of Sansa) is also dead and now is referred as Lady's Shade (a synonym of Ghost), but I think this is a particular connection with Jon. A master without a direwolf, a direwolf without a master. There is also the fact that Lady's bones are buried in Winterfell's Lichyard, in a similar way as Lyanna's remains are buried in the Crypts of Winterfell (They both went south and only their bones came back). This connection is very particular and specifically with Jon.

I also know that the hound shippers use this connection with the death to make their fave a Hades figure for Sansa's Persephone. They also associate the three hounds of Clegane's sigil with Cerberus, Hades's three headed hound. And there's also the fact the the hound's horse is called Stranger, like one of the Seven Gods.

The God of Death???? A God with a magical pet???? Sounds more similar to Jon, a man who will conquest the death, and his magical beast companion Ghost, right????

But those shippers always lift their fave (a back row character) to a protagonist level, so they can compare him with actual protagonists like King Arthur, Lancelot, the Beast, Hades, Vincent, Lord Byron, etc. While GRRM calls their fave a villain in every occasion, his shippers call him a Byronic and/or romantic hero.

But Hades (Brother of Zeus) and Persephone (Daughter of Zeus and Demeter) were related, they were uncle and niece, you know, like Lord Jon(nel) Stark and his half-niece, the first Sansa Stark.

And finally you mentioned the "infamous" "Batb imagery". And I said infamous for all the damage that the Batb imagery associated with the hound has caused.

If I remember correctly, GRRM said that he has used a deconstructed version of the Batb trope for Jaime and Brienne. I don't remember any other mention of the Batb trope for other pair of characters.

The one that said he used the Batb imagery to draw the Blackwater scene was the illustrator of the 2012 Asoiaf Calendar, John Picacio. GRRM never "commissioned" an illustration with Sansa and the hound as the Beauty and the Beast. GRRM suggested the illustrator to draw the Blackwater scene (probably he wanted a more accurate representation of that scene) and it was John Picacio who decided to draw the Blackwater scene similar to the Jean Cocteau's film "La Belle et la Bête" poster (Asoiaf artists have a lot of creative license). And later John Picacio gifted a black and white version of that piece to GRRM and he hung it on his office wall. But of course the shippers made up alternative facts to feed their narrative.

Now, despite GRRM never mentioned something about it, it's evident that Sansa is surrounded by Batb imagery, where she is the Beauty, but there is a lot of "beasts" on the prowl.

If we go for ugliness only (inside and out), there is the hound but also Tyrion Lannister and Petyr Baelish.

In the middle we can put the handsome and gallant Loras Tyrell, who never had true affection for Sansa and even accused her of murdering King Joffrey. Now Loras Tyrell, if we can trust Aurane Waters reports to Cersei, has lost his beauty and lie dying wounded and burned by boiling oil.

But If we go deeper than physical beauty (or lack of it), there's JoJo, I mean, there's Joffrey and Jon Snow. Joffrey is the handsome gallant prince who is a real monster inside (and also a bastard), and Jon Snow is the prince in disguise as a bastard who is also a warg, half beast and half human. They both also lived in enchanted/cursed castles and are associated with certain roses. Joffrey lived all his life in the Red Keep and also visited Winterfell, and later spurned Sansa to marry a rose, Margaery Tyrell. Jon Snow lived all his life in Winterfell until he moved to Castle Balck and he is the blue rose (hidden baby) of the Rose of Winterfell (Lyanna) that was abducted by Rhaegar Targaryen (Bael the Bard).

JoJo are kind of switched a birth scenario that I personally believe is the way GRRM adapted the fact that Avenant and the Beast/Prince from Jean Cocteau's film "La Belle et la Bête" were played by the same actor and had the same face, and at the end Belle admitted to the Prince that she loved Avenant's face (beauty) and was happy that he (the Prince) had the same face she loved.

The hound is no prince in disguise, has zero connection with a rose or an enchanted/cursed castle, and more important, he is nothing like the Beast from the tale or Jean Cocteau's film or Vincent from the TV adaptation. All those version of the Beast were kind, gentle and cultured despite their beastly appearance, and most important, they never forced themselves on Beauty, they asked and needed her consent as a way to break the curse.

But the hound shippers will claim over and over that their ship is a the Asoiaf version of the Beauty and the Beast tale, inspired by Jean Cocteau's film and/or the TV adaptation, that the scenes are the same, that the dialogues are the same, etc. And all of that it's just alternative facts and wishful thinking.

As you can see in these posts, the scenes aren't the same and the dialogues aren't the same either.

You can read more about the subject here:

Some fanon/made up things that certain shippers claim to be canon about their ship & the Beauty and the Beast Trope

ASOIAF FANART & CREATIVE LICENSE

In the original fairy tale ‘La Belle et la Bête’ by Madame de Villeneuve, Beauty and Beast/Prince are cousins

There is a version of Beauty and the Beast where the Beast is a white wolf

And if you are really interested in the subject, I recommend you to read @princess-in-a-tower metas:

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 1

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 2

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 3

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 4

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 5

Jon’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc Intro

And to finish this post, let's wonder: Will Jon be cynical, temperamental, and beast like (like the hound) when he’s resurrected???? I hope he's nothing like the hound ever.

I think Jon will probably be more wolf that human, but I don't think he will be dangerous or violent or abusive to Sansa. Being more wolf than human Jon will recognize Sansa's as part of his pack, so I suspect he will be extremely protective of her but probably dangerous for others, especially if he remembers that his own brothers tried to killed him.

And we can agree that Sansa will help Jon to reconnect with his humanity and tame his wolf nature. After all she "tamed" a lot of beasts, not only the hound, like Joffrey, when she convinced him to give a coin to the starving woman with her baby's corpse; like Tyrion, when she outsmarted him and met Dontos in the Godswood every night to plan her scape from King's Landing. And she will do the same with Petyr Baelish (or Tyrion again) when she slay the savage giant in a castle made of snow.

Having said all that, I would call the hound and Ygritte "distractions", especially for cursory readers (George hates to be predictable). But in any case, we can agree to disagree.

Thanks for your message :)

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#anon asks #jonsa #beauty and the beast trope

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