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musings-of-a-rose · 3 months

Text

Falling Slowly Chapter 6

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This chapter will be entirely from Tommy’s pov. It’s also bringing in a Joel story I’ve been dying to write.

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

<<;Chapter 5<<

Tommy rubs his wrists as the officer unlocks his cuffs, gesturing to the phone on the wall.

"You get one call. 3 minutes."

Tommy nods and picks up the phone, hesitating a moment before dialing his brother's number.

“Hello?”

“Joel, it’s me. Uh, I’m ok.”

“Yeah?”

“But I’m in jail.”

“Goddammit.”

A little offended, Tommy defends himself. “Wasn’t my fault this time. I was at the bar, some guy goes crazy, starts swingin’ at a waitress, I stepped in, knocked him out, cops show up-” The din from the other room gets louder, like people are fighting almost. Look, it doesn’t matter. You gotta bail me out.”

“Now?”

“It’s Friday, you don’t get me out tonight, I’m in here all weekend. It’s a fuckin’ madhouse, Joel. I gotta get out.”

“Well, which jail? Travis County?”

“Yeah, on 10th.”

“Goddammit Tommy.”

“I’m sorry….Please?”

“Ok.” Joel hangs up after that and Tommy stares at the receiver for a moment, hoping that his brother shows up fast.

It's when he waits for Joel that Tommy really sees it. The way people are behaving oddly, just like the man in the bar, lunging at people or twitching. Some of the officers' hands shake as they restrain them, their heads moving from side to side as if trying to clear their minds of a fog. Something is happening, what specifically he can't say. But something is very wrong. All he knows is he has to get Daisy and Jax and get out of town with Joel and Sarah and Rose, if Joel wants that? Maybe to the cabin? Would Joel even believe him?

Just then an officer opens the cell, his hands shaking and fumbling with the keys, dropping them a couple of times before he jams them into the lock and pulls the door open. Tommy quickly walks past the officer, who's now shaking his head and walks down the hall towards the front desk. He sees Joel standing there, his arms crossed and a hard look on his face.

"I thought you were done with this shit, Tommy."

"We have to get out of here."

Joel snorts. "No shit. You think I want to spend my night here?"

Tommy looks at his brother, holding his gaze. "No, we have to leave. Somethin' isn't right."

"What-"

Screams and gunfire echo down the hall from where Tommy just was, obvious signs of multiple people fighting. Joel looks at Tommy and nods towards the front door as the desk officer draws her gun and moves down the hallway, her screams cut off by the door closing behind Joel.

Outside isn't any better. People are running, screaming down the street while other people chase them, pushing them down and…biting their necks? No. Kissing them? No, their lips aren't touching.

The window from a store front next to Tommy breaks, glass shattering all over the road as a person falls from the store, gashes covering their body as they jerk and twist. Suddenly, their, no, her head jerks up and she looks at them, something long and like tendrils sliding out of her mouth just as an inhuman sound comes from her throat, her body launching at the men.

"Shit!" Tommy yells as he moves from her way, her body crashing to the floor momentarily before popping back up.

"Move!" Joel yells and Tommy runs after him, heading towards his truck at the end of the street. Joel reaches it first, just as Tommy feels her fingers close around his shirt, pulling him to the ground. She straddles him, leaning her head towards his, the tendrils sliding from her mouth, reaching towards him, trying to pull her mouth closer to his as Tommy slams his mouth shut, desperately trying to shove her off him.

CLUNK!

A large wrench slams into the side of her head and she flies off Tommy, landing on the sidewalk, her body no longer moving. His chest is heaving as he gasps for air, Joel shoving his hand in his face to help him up.

"We gotta go!" He tosses the keys to Tommy who hops in, starting up the truck and taking off the second Joel closes his door, another one of those things pounding on the window, tendrils pressing up against it.

"Take 42nd to Palm and cut through that alley."

Tommy nods to his brother, his eyes glued to the road where people are running around, trying to avoid getting pounced on. He makes it to the shortcut, his tires screeching down the alley as he heads toward the neighborhood where he and Joel live.

"We'll grab Sarah first since we're up first."

Tommy nods. "Be quick, Joel. I have to get to Daisy and Jax."

But as they pull up to the dark street, they see Sarah running from the neighbor's house, a look of pure terror on her face. Tommy pulls up and Joel jumps out, his wrench in his hand as an old lady runs from the house Sarah just left, tripping over the stairs.

"Get in the truck!" Joel yells at Sarah as the old lady gets up. She grunts, running at them as Tommy moves from around the truck.

"What are we doing here Joel?"

Joel tightened his grip and swung, hitting the lady square in the face, her body hitting the ground.

"You just killed her!" Sarah gasps from behind Joel. He turns to her, kneeling a bit to her level.

"It's not just here. We have to be strong, ok?" She nods, hopping in the back as they jump in, the truck roaring to life as Tommy speeds off down the road towards his house.

They pull up and Tommy's stomach jumps to his throat. The front door is wide open, the plants on the front steps knocked over, dirt splattered across the ground.

"Fuck," Joel whispers under his breath. "Sarah, stay in the car and do not come out. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes."

Tommy opens his door, fingers trembling as a thousand horrible images cross his mind of what may lay inside the home he and Daisy had created. He tightens his grip on the shotgun he grabbed from his backseat, Joel sliding into a position behind him to cover him as they tentatively step inside.

The room is a mess. Furniture is upturned, frames dangling on the wall, broken glass scattered across the floor, the lights flickering as the lamp desperately tries to stay lit. But as they step towards the kitchen and the main stairwell, Tommy has to swallow down a wail, panic seeping through his veins and threatening to take over his mind, his body turning cold.

"Is that…blood?" Joel whispers, coming up beside Tommy, looking down at the dark puddle on the ground.

Tommy nods, not trusting his own voice as he rounds the corner, his shotgun weighing heavier in his hands. No one is in the kitchen, cups clattered on the floor, some drawers pulled out and silverware scattered across the floor.

Tommy then turns to the stairs leading to the bedrooms upstairs. Joel claps his hand on his shoulder, his eyebrows raised in a silent question of "You got this?"

Tommy nods, flexing his fingers against the wood of the shotgun and turns his gaze towards the stairs, slowly ascending them and taking a double step so as not to step on the creaky stair he'd promised Daisy he would fix months ago. His throat tightens thinking of her and he prays to whatever is listening that she's ok. That Jax is ok.

He makes it to the top of the stairs, more things scattered about the floor up here too and turns to Jax's room, his door half open. Toys are scattered about the floor, his lamp over turned and the room nearly pitch black. He swears he hears a small shuffle from the back of his closet and he swallows hard, terrified of what it could mean. He grips the gun tighter, taking a deep breath.

"Jax? It's Daddy."

There's a moment of silence, Tommy's stomach churning with every second as hope fades from him. But then the closet door bursts open and Jax jumps out, his arms outstretched towards his dad.

"DADDY!"

Tommy drops to his knees, quickly setting the shotgun on the floor and opens his arms, Jax throwing his own tiny ones around his neck, little tears streaming down his face as Tommy embraces him, his own tears falling freely.

"I am so glad to see you, little man! Are you ok?" Reluctantly, Tommy disentangles Jax from him and he looks at him. Nothing seems to be off about him other than the fact he was terrified.

"I ok, daddy."

"I'm so happy to hear that, little man. You were hiding and waiting for us?"

Jax's eyes go distant as he remembers, nodding his head. "Mommy said to hide and wait for you or Uncle Joel if she not come back."

Tommy's heart races at the mention of Daisy. "Jax, look at me." He turns his face up and looks up at his Dad, fear blowing his pupils wide. "Where's mommy?"

Jax is quiet for several moments before he speaks and Tommy almost misses it with how softly he talks.

"Mrs. Johnson was being mean to mommy."

Tommy feels himself go cold, blood rushing, heart pumping as fear floods his system. He tries hard to swallow down his fear for Jax. "What, uh, what happened?"

"Mommy woke me up. Said to hide in my best hiding spot. Not to come out until daddy or Uncle Joel or mommy come to get him. That if I do, if I stay really quiet, I win the game. But…" His eyes flick behind Tommy at the door, the door that had been half open when they came upstairs.

"Jax it's OK. You're safe."

Jax looks back at Tommy, eyes watering with fear. "Someone hit on my door. Mommy saw me hide. Took my..r..Rangers bat. She open the door and Mrs. Johnson…" He glances at the door again before looking down at his feet. "She was doing doggy sounds and chasing mommy. But not like when we play. She tried to bite mommy."

"Did she bite her?"

Jax thinks for a moment. "No."

Tommy lets out a puff of air. That's at least something good. "Where did they go?"

"Mommy ran out the door. She made a lot of noise. Mrs. Johnson chase her. I hear sounds from downstairs but then quiet. Then daddy get me. I win, daddy?"

Tommy pulls Jax in to his chest, hugging him tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Yeah, bud. You win."

Joel clears his throat. "Tommy, we gotta go. We can't stay here."

"I can't leave Daisy. I can't, I-"

"Tommy." Joel speaks in his stern brother voice. "We have to keep the kids safe. Daisy wouldn't want you to risk Jax-"

Anger floods Tommy, heating his face, a rushing sound in his ears as he stands quickly, taking Jax with him. "How the fuck would you know what she wants?"

"Because she's a mom! How pissed would she be if something happened while we were lookin' and waitin' for her?"

He's pissed. So pissed but mostly because his brother is right. Daisy would skin him alive if something happened to Jax while they were looking for her.

"I… I can't…"

Joel grips his shoulder. "We'll go to the cabin still. It would be a safe place to hunker down. Leave her a note or somethin' but we have to go. Now."

Tommy nods, succumbing to his brother's order. They all head back downstairs, Tommy grabbing the pad of paper and pen that they always kept near the phone. He quickly scribbled a note to Daisy, telling her they had Jax and were heading to the cabin and to meet there. He ended it with an I love you, taking a shuddering breath as he sets the note on the table, Sarah placing Daisy's backpack next to it, the one she had packed last night in preparation for their weekend trip. While he wrote, Jax had grabbed his own little pack and Joel grabbed any food he could carry from the cabinets, tossing it into some grocery bags that were stored under the sink.

They all head to the front door, Joel doing a quick scan of the area before they silently move back towards the truck. Tommy takes one last look inside, speaking quietly while saying an internal prayer.

"Please be ok, Daisy."

The highway is blocked, everyone having the same idea as them. They cut across a field, intending to take a shortcut through town, but then chaos erupts. People pour from a movie theater, yelling, screaming, biting, and then Sarah yelling from the back seat before the sound of a plane crashing, way too close for comfort. And then his world flips, goes dark for a brief moment before Tommy wakes, upside down, the sounds of terror from the street quickly roaring back to life.

"DADDY!"

Jax's scream wakes him from his stupor, spurring him into action. He quickly undoes his belt, seeing Joel stir next to him.

"You ok, man?" Tommy asks as he drops to the roof, which is now the floor, with a grunt.

"M' fine. Sarah!"

"I'm stuck!"

Tommy sees Joel hit the roof and scramble out to get Sarah. Tommy does the same, whipping out his pocket knife and cutting Jax loose from the car seat Sarah had buckled him into when they left. He grabs him before he hits the floor and pulls him from the truck, faintly registering Sarah whimpering as Joel pulls her from the truck, another car slamming into it a moment later. Jax screams and buries his face in Tommy's neck, his little backpack somehow clutched in his tiny fist.

The truck is on fire and Tommy steps back, quickly grabbing up the shotgun that had slid from the truck when it had flipped. He looks over the hood at Joel, cradling Sarah in his arms but blocked in the alley.

"Go! Meet up at the river. Get her out of here, Joel!"

Tommy tightens his grip on Jax. "Keep your eyes closed, bud. Hold tight. I've got you."

He runs, his eyes on everyone and everything as they make their way down a few blocks before cutting down a side street. Mercifully, none of the things seem to notice them, too caught up in the chaos of the street and they make it around the edge of buildings and towards the river. But then he sees them, Joel cradling Sarah and pleading with a soldier who has his gun fixed on them. He quietly sets Jax down, who seems to sense the seriousness of the situation, and flattens himself to the ground, just like he does when they play soldiers.

Tommy raises the shotgun and takes a few steps. But then he hears a shot ring out and sees Joel and Sarah go down, the soldier stomping up to Joel, who's raising his hands, pleading, begging, telling the man they aren't sick. Without hesitation, Tommy clears the last step to put him in a decent range and pulls the trigger, the soldier instantly going down. Joel looks up at him, gratitude on his face. But Tommy doesn't see it. All he sees is Sarah, blood covering her shirt as she gasps on the ground.

"Oh God."

Joel snaps his head around and sees her, rushing towards his daughter. Tommy feels Jax hold onto his leg as Joel screams to Tommy for help. But what is he going to do? He has no medical training and he doubts the med pack on the soldier would do much-

"MOVE!"

In her element, Rose comes from nowhere, her shoulder jamming into Joel to move him aside as she expertly moves her hands over Sarah, ripping her shirt open. She confidently gives some orders to Joel, who takes a second to respond.

"Joel!"

He shakes his head and moves, doing exactly as she says when she says.

"Tommy! Bring me his med kit," Rose nods towards the fallen soldier.

In one swift movement, Tommy scoops up Jax and runs as fast as he can to the soldier, patting down his body until he finds the kit, yanking it from his vest.

"Tommy!"

"Joel, here!" Tommy tosses the kit to him, Joel catches it and rips it open, doing exactly what Rose says, while also trying to keep Sarah calm. But as he watches her work, Tommy knows there's no way she will be able to save Sarah with just a field patch kit. He glances down at the soldier, his walkie dangling from his shoulder and an idea occurs to him. He kneels, picking up the walkie and pressing the button, waiting a moment to talk.

"Soldier down, over!"

A moment passes before the static sound of someone picking up echoes across the small lot. "What's your position, over?"

"Back by the river. Murkmire street. Over."

"Stand by. We'll be there in 2, over."

There's nothing left to do but watch and pray that Sarah makes it not just for him and Jax, but for Joel. Especially for Joel. Tommy doesn't want to think about what would happen to Joel if Sarah…

"Daddy, is Sarah ok?"

Tommy looks down at Jax tucked into his side, his eyes wide and worried and it breaks his heart how much trauma Jax has had to see in the last few hours.

"I don't know, bud."

He nods, looking over towards her. "Rose is good doctor. She will help Sarah be better."

"I hope so, little man."

Tommy keeps an eye on the perimeter as Rose races to keep Sarah alive. After the longest 2 minutes of his life, Tommy sees the army truck pull around the corner, stopping just short of the soldier and Tommy. They jump out, raising their weapons to Tommy, who raises the shotgun in the air before slowly setting it down.

"Back up!"

Tommy does as he says, keeping his free hand in the air while the soldier moves towards their fallen man. But before he can say anything, Rose’s voice booms across the short distance.

“He’s gone. I couldn’t save him. But she can still be saved if you get us to med.”

The soldiers blink, staring down the several feet towards Rose, whose hand is now buried inside Sarah’s stomach, literally holding her life in her hands. They raise their guns towards them too but Rose just shakes her head.

“None of us are bit. She was shot. I need you to take me to med so I can save her.”

The soldiers look nervously from one to another before their leader replies.

“I’ll have to call this in.”

“Can you call it in while we’re en route?”

The soldier thinks for a moment. “How do I know if you’re telling the truth?”

“You can shoot us if we aren’t. But we have to do this now.”

The soldier hesitates for one more moment, glancing down at Sarah, who’s head was starting to loll from side to side as Joel speaks to her, trying to keep her conscious.

“Alright. Pull the truck around and help her load up. Do as she says when loading, I don’t want blood all over the back.”

“Yes sir!”

Everyone springs into action and before Tommy can even blink, they’re all loaded in the back of the army truck, racing towards the temporary medical camp they had erected at a nearby clinic. They whisk Sarah and Rose away, Joel not allowed to follow his daughter back to the quarantined rooms. Soldiers have to beat him back, but Tommy steps forward, Jax still clutched to his side.

“I got him! Joel. Joel! Look at me.”

Joel spins and looks at his brother, his eyes wild as he focuses on him.

"Hey man. If anyone here can save her, Rose can. But you gotta stay here. Keep out of her way. That's how you can help her. Ok?"

Joel's eyes are hard, but then he nods, crumbling to the floor. Tommy joins him, Joel clinging to his shirt as he cries for his daughter, Jax's little fist twisting into Joel's shirt as he tries to hug his broad shoulders. They stay like that for a while, Joel eventually settling, accepting Jax as he crawls into his lap, hugging onto his neck. Just when Tommy was about to go find some food, the doors open and another doctor walks out and over to them.

"Millers?"

Joel jumps to his feet and Tommy reaches over to take Jax, who had fallen asleep.

"Is she ok? Is my daughter…"

"She's alive. Thanks to that doctor she came with. If it wasn't for her, she wouldn't have made it."

Joel lets out a puff of air, silent tears falling down his cheeks. "Can I see her?"

"Yes. Follow me."

They follow the doctor through some doors and then she's there, so small and frail looking on a makeshift stretcher bed, Rose next to her holding her hand while Sarah sleeps. As soon as Joel walks in she stands, motioning to Joel to take her place, which he does, immediately holding Sarah's hand.

"I'm here, baby girl. I'm here." His eyes are only for Sarah, but he reaches out and grips Rose's arm. "Thank you."

"Of course. We'll talk later. For now, let her rest. And you get rest too, ok? Doctor's orders." She kisses the top of his head and gives his hand a small squeeze before walking towards the door.

"Are you guys ok? Where's Daisy?"

Tommy can feel his face harden. "She's not with us. I'm not sure where she is."

Rose nods. "I'm sure we'll find her. There's no way she would let anything keep her from you guys."

"Thanks, Rose."

3 weeks. 3 weeks have gone by since the world went to shit and the last time he'd seen her. The love of his life, the mother of his son.

Daisy.

Sarah was healing fast and well, even able to walk around the clinic several times before needing a break. She was eating and it was apparent that her wound was not going to affect her eating.

But Tommy, while ecstatic for his niece, was more than antsy. He was sick in his stomach at the thought of Daisy being out there alone. He couldn't think about the alternative, so he focused on that, convinced she had gone to the cabin like they'd said to do in the note.

"I have to go find her, Joel."

Joel looks up from where he sits. "You just gonna walk the 150 or so miles?"

"If I have to."

"You have a responsibility here. To Jax. To us-"

"I made a vow to her, Joel! She's my wife. I need to find her!"

Joel stands facing his brother. "I know, Tommy. But you have a job here. You have to protect him."

"But-"

"I promise, as soon as we can, we will all go to the cabin to find her. Ok?"

Tommy didn't fully believe his brother, not when there were whispers of a quarantine zone, and towns being erected by FEDRA that were supposed to be safe. He can't imagine Joel would give up safety for Sarah for his wife. But he was right - if anything happened to Jax, Daisy would straight up murder him.

A few days later, Rose quietly comes into the room to check on Sarah, closing the door behind her, which she rarely does. She leans over Sarah, who happened to be napping with Jax snuggled up next to her. Joel immediately moves to her side, his eyes glued to Rose.

“I think we need to leave here.” She says it so quietly, Tommy almost thinks he heard her wrong, moving closer to hear her better.

“Leave? Why?” Joel whispers back.

She glances towards the door and back at Joel. “I’ve heard…rumors. Quarantine zones-”

“Yeah, we have too,” Tommy cuts in. Joel glares at him, silently telling him to shut up.

“Yes, but I hear that once we’re all vetted, we won’t be able to leave.”

“What?” Tommy says out loud, Joel immediately shushing him.

Rose looks from Joel to Tommy and back. “Being locked in somewhere doesn’t sound good. Not with FEDRA running the place.”

“But wouldn’t it be safe for us? For the kids?” Joel asks, his eyebrows pulling up.

Rose is quiet for a moment. “I want to say yes, but really, I don’t know. FEDRA is already controlling this place, rationing out meager supplies and I know they pocket things for themselves. They’re scrambling and I don’t want an organization in panic mode to tell me what to do.”

Joel looks down at Sarah and Jax, still peacefully sleeping on the bed. He sighs, pushing some hair from Sarah’s face before looking back at Rose.

“So we have to leave.”

It takes them the rest of the week, but Joel and Tommy secure a car, big enough for them and some supplies. It should have enough gas to make it to the cabin, as Tommy and Joel went around siphoning gas from the surrounding cars to add to theirs. They carefully covered it with matching debris to hide it, crouching down and sneaking back under the fence to get more supplies that Rose had been tucking away all week. Medical supplies are already hard to come by and who knows what will be out there?

Under cover of night, just after a month after the outbreak happened, Tommy, Jax, Joel, Sarah, and Rose sneak out through the hole in the fence and make their way to the stashed car, grateful that nothing bothered them en route. Mercifully, they make it out of the area mostly unscathed, only having to run over a few runners on the way out. Once they get around the parked city traffic and onto the back roads, it becomes smoother sailing, probably due to the lack of people.

The closer they get to the cabin, the more nervous Tommy becomes. What if Daisy isn’t there? Would he really be able to leave Jax behind and go search for her? What if he never came back? Could he really live without Daisy? He gently pats the top of Jax’s head, which is currently in his lap, Sarah leaning on his shoulder completely passed out.

The sun starts to rise when they pull down the hidden drive to the cabin, Tommy sitting up a little straighter, shifting Sarah to lean against her window and Jax against her. His eyes scan the ground for tire marks, but of course, there are none. Either Daisy was smart and covered them or the elements did. They turn a corner and the cabin comes into view, the shutters still on all of the windows, looking exactly as it had when they were here last. Tommy swallows hard, his heart is racing and he feels like he’s going to vomit, almost like he can feel hope leaving him. Joel parks the car and Tommy gets out, grabbing his gun and closing the door behind him.

“I’ll check it out. You guys keep the kids safe. Anythin’ happens, just leave me. I’ll find you.”

“Tommy-”

But Tommy doesn’t hear him. He doesn’t hear anything over the rush in his head, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he sees her emerge from the house, the love of his life.

Daisy.

>>Chapter 7>>

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babkaboy · 8 months

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Hi! Big big biiiiiiiiig fan of your obikin work over on twitter, both for the naughty bits :3 and your art style like omg I love love loooooove the angular character design and the way u colour with scribbles hidden in it to look like it’s pencil coloured and the double lineart over (is it intentional or aesthetic thing?)

I wanted to ask a question: I noticed whenever I see your twitter art and tumblr art even tho it’s the same fan art some of the stuff on tumblr is slightly different like obi-wan/anakin’s face is more structured on tumblr version or slight change of pose or adding new things like obi-wan’s red lingerie in your obi-wan’s history of bras/lingerie while he’s naked on twitter version. Do you purposely change it for tumblr?

Hi there!! What a wonderful message to receive 🥺🙏 First of all, thank you for such kind words ❤️ I hope you don’t mind I answer both of your asks here!!

My art-style has been mutating through the years since I graduated and nowadays I’ve found a nice balance with this sketchy one I’m currently using (definitely influenced by Mikael Ross, his traditional cartoonish style is a huge inspo for me when i do comics). but I love trying new methods and switching things up every now and then. And yes, the double lineart is intentional!! I like how it gives some dimension and dynamism to the anatomy and makes it feel like animation 💞

And you are very observant!!! Bc I definitely change things in my art when I post them to different sites. part of it is because I’m kind of a perfectionist, and once i post something on twitter i start noticing all the mistakes and tangents and I just know i won’t post it on tumblr until i feel satisfied and fix things or re-do them. on the other hand, tumblr is very strict with the nudity stuff and i keep getting flagged every time i post something slightly suggestive (or maybe someone is reporting me 👀 won’t be the first time tbh) so i gotta tone things down, like adding obi-wan’s red lingerie in that one fanart while on tumblr he’s showing ass and cock HAHAHA. so yep, twitter gets ass and tits while tumblr gets the fixed 2.0 stuff. but in some way i kind of like the idea of posting different things on each site, like little easter eggs 🥰

I’m so excited for you to participate on the #UnderTheJediUniform tag 🙏 also tag me if you do it cuz my shadowban sometimes hides some of the art in the tag 😭 it started as a little idea and it warms my heart seeing people doing their drawings or fics or hcs about obi-wan in lingerie 💘 But take it easy specially if you are coming back from a creative burnout after uni, i was there too and it was no fun at all. sometimes is a way for our brain to tell us to take a break and nurture ourselves from different things other than drawing, like looking at different artists or photographers, watching movies, reading books and from life itself. and when you less expect it, you will suddenly get struck with the need to grab a pen 😊

thank you again for this lovely message, it really made my day!!! as you said, there‘s always shit happening and disgusting losers trying to drag you down in this fandom, but messages like this and the wonderful people that i have met through obikin is an enough reason to stay and keep doing what i want ❤️

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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hey! I just wanted to say I love your fic A Fresh Start SO MUCH !! the writing is just *chefs kiss* and the slow burn is just long enough to be agonizing but in literally the best way possible, it’s written SO WELL AND I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH DUDE !!!!!

I love your fic so much, and for the past couple of days I’ve been kicking around the idea to ask you: is it ok if I draw your character Nima from A Fresh Start? I just love her so much and she’s one of my favorite side characters, and I was hoping I could ask if it was ok if I could draw her? She’s just such a fun character and I really like the idea of drawing her pink(?) skin and other details, and if I could draw her, do you mind providing any details about her? Like maybe some references, any outfit she wears, or just any sort of spare details you have about her?

anywyas, tysm, I love your fic a LOT and have a good day !! <3

ps. if you have an anon list going, I wouldn’t mind going by ⭐️ (star) Anon :)

THE SOUND THAT LEFT MY MOUTH WHEN I READ YOUR MESSAGE WAS INHUMAN. ABSOLUTELY YES YOU CAN DRAW NIMA HOLY SHIT IM SCREEEEAMING.

Okay. Deep breath. Holy moly. Alright. Guess what, my friend? You just opened Pandora's box. You asked for spare details but I'm about to ramble for DAYS. Nima's got a full history and backstory (b/c I'm obsessive about this kind of stuff) that I haven't been able to explore in the story to the degree I want SO NOW YOU GOTTA SUFFER THROUGH PARAGRAPHS OF INFORMATION.

Just swear to me that you'll send me the finished result because I neeeeeeed it. You think I'm insane and feral now? Just you wait. Okay. Now, info dump waiting below.

So mentally the closest face claim I have for Nima would be the actress Seo Ye Ji (as in if Nima got to ever see the silver screen that's exactly who I would want hired to play her lol).

Nima is pretty average in height, and she's built firm. Not a body builder by any means, but you can see the strength in her arms and shoulders from the multiple years of working in a garage doing heavy lifting and being hands on. Her skin tone is a more pastel shade of pink, like a soft bubble gum pink, but her lekku both have a sprinkling of freckles all over them in a darker shade of pink. Her eyes are a dark brown, and she has freckles across the bridge of her nose and on her cheekbones that match the ones on her lekku.

Nima has no tattoos or piercings, she's terrified of needles. Markings of note though, she has a collection of scars along her arms (burns and cuts) from her work. Nima has a bad habit of getting excited when working on a project she's excited about and in her excitement she'll forget to wear gloves or cover her arms in the proper gear.

When she's working, Nima wears a pair of navy mechanic coveralls to protect her skin when doing more dangerous work, but as said previously, Nima has a bad habit of shrugging out of the upper half to tie the arms around her waist leaving her in either a plain tank top or sports bra. She does it to cool off, but often forgets to zip the upper body part back up before getting back to work. While on the job, there are three things she always has on her: a pair of work goggles either resting on her forehead or hanging around her neck, an old pair of work gloves she's kept forever despite their disrepair, and a matching set of dark brown work boots. All three were gifts from her father when she got her first job as a mechanic.

When Nima's not working, her style is all over the place. She prefers pants and shorts to dresses and skirts and tends to lean toward large, loose fitting t-shirts that she'll tuck into high waist shorts or pants. But, she's also a big fan of oversized hoodies, cardigans, and flannels for when the weather gets cooler.

I attached some random pictures I found on pinterest of things I could picture Nima wearing.

AGAIN DON'T FORGET TO SEND ME THE ART PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU🥺⭐️

#a fresh start #nima #fan art #listen to me #i am losing it #omg #any sort of art of my work will make me foam at the mouth #i'll be rabid #i need the serotonin #pls #asks #feel free to ask me about anything!!

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themeganator5000 · 2 years

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🤡🎢🎶🧠 (and good luck with homework 😩)

Alright, this one got a lil long so buckle in (also thank u king!! 🥹)

🤡 What’s a line, scene, or exchange you’ve written that made you laugh?

MAN, that’s a toughie. What’ve I written that HASN’T made me laugh?? Uuuhhhhh obviously all of Truth or Don’t You Dare, that’s probably my favorite fic ever ngl. Okay, I’m bad at decisions so we’re just gonna do a lil Best Of list rn let’s goooo

Pretty much all of this scene from One Night in Portorosso just cause I can see it so clearly:

And damn, Without You is really funny too. Underrated classic 👌

Oh my god, how could I forget Pornos and Protostars??? This whole damn fic is a gold mine 🤩

(P.S. i like to think that Guido is Portorosso’s local gay porn dealer and Alberto bought all his magazines from him in private. i do not know where Guido gets them. maybe Ercole.)

Luca HAS to some kinda weird space kink, right?? Like,, just fuckin lookit him

And Alberto making suggestive drawings of his then-best-friend at age sixteen is just 😘👌

Uugghgjkdhfkfhgk i know there’s more but this post is already so damn long i gotta stop. But trust me my dude, i write da funny shit, it’s what i do 😜

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Oohohohiohh definitely Truth or Don’t You Dare 😏

I won’t spoil anything for the select few who see this post and haven’t read it yet, but here’s a quick summary:

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Answered!

🧠 Pick a character, and I’ll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

Okay, so I more or less answered this like a year ago here, but obvi I’ve had some more thoughts since then. And, y’all are gonna hate me for this, but I do have a favorite.

I think Luca and Giulia should hook up in college.

Not as a long-term thing, more like a one-night stand (but possibly without any actual sex, i still like my asexual Giulia headcanon). I see them going to the same college together, Luca studying astronomy and Giulia studying marine biology, and they’re roommates cause it’s cheaper and they practically grew up together anyway. Luca’s already securely with Alberto at this point and Giulia thinks she’s a lesbian, so it’s all whatever. Everyone’s all happy, Luca loves Alberto, Giulia loves both the boys as her best friends/family, Alberto is no longer jealous of Giulia, yadda yadda yadda.

But like. What if they fucked it up.

What if they kissed. 😳

Idk I just think it’s a fun and interesting scenario cause like, Luca is missing Alberto and he’s all sad that Alberto’s not there, but like. Giulia is. 👀

fhdjjwhfk idk there’s kinda a lot to explain which is why I don’t talk about it much but I’ve already written one fic about it (which is kinda underrated in my opinion). And I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I just think their bond is so strong it’s almost hard not to imagine them in a semi-polyamorous relationship (i ain’t doin incest tho srry). I’m also working on another Giulia/Luca/Alberto fic where essentially everybody just goes to town on Luca and it’s great, but I have no idea how to wrap it up so no promises that’ll be out anytime soon :P

Thanks for letting talk at’cha! 😋

#the people in the apartment above me are having a party rn and they are being soooo loud 😖#like damn man i just wanna enjoy my tea and play on my phone 😞#SOMEBODY JUST DID A FREESTYLE RAP RIGHT UNDER MY WINDOW????? ngl man was kinda spittin bars..#ok the party went real quiet now i think they’re done?? either that or someone filed a noise complaint :P #my posts #luca #luberto #and btw if anyone wants a link to that Giulia/Luca/Alberto WIP i mentioned i will give it to u 👀 just ask me :3 #i really like it but DAMN i don’t have time to work on SHIT with this stupid design class!!!#oh well. perks of being a senior chemical engineering student i guess 😖

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toruvi · 2 years

Note

it is early as shit oh my god i am sorry but i gotta get it off my chest while it’s fresh.

i JUST caught up with paychecks i remember reading it AWHILE ago but i probably forgot about it while reading other fics (STUPID MISTAKE LOOKING BACK) BUT i just picked it up literally last night after getting suggested a playlist inspired by it and let me tell you.. i’ve been up all night reading this shit ITS 6AM. i’m literally hooked what the hell, reader is so… relatable like i understand her i really do and i think she gets me too. your writing is incredible i’m in awe i’m so happy i found my way back to this fic because WOWWWW i have no words. easily one of my favorite fics now, you’re amazing and your ART??? i’ve been following you for awhile so i know it’s amazing BUT seeing you bring these scenes to life is just incredible! THANK YOU THANK YOU i don’t regret losing sleep over this.

HELLOOOOO I HOPE YOU GOT SOME SLEEP???

aAAAAA I'm so glad you relate to reader!!!!!!! She gets you :(( definitely :((( oh my god thank you so much you are way way too kind I'm about to tear up in the break room fjdjdjdj I just wanna say thank you for reading like 3000 times and it still wouldn't be enough just know I sincerely appreciate this message 🥺

I LOVE DRAWING FOR PAYCHECKS 😭😭😭 I miss drawing for the chapters I'm trying to get back into it (fingers crossed for 18 FJDJFJFJ) TYSM YOURE SO SWEET PLEASE CATCH UP ON YOUR SLEEP FJFHFHF ❤️❤️❤️❤️

#pwasoi.ask #thanks for comin back to paychecks!!! 🥺🥺

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subpar-ghoulfriend · 3 years

Text

A Family Affair

Slasher AU CannibalFamily!EraserMicxReader

We’re going with the “strange family that lives outside of a small town” trope. After a few deliveries to the Aizawa household you get pulled in to an affair you never wanted to be a part of.

Spooky season is upon us and I’ve already begun watching too many horror movies. This fic will definitely be a two parter

Super Dark Content Warning!!! Literally do not read if you have any reservation and definitely no minors!

TW: cannibal themes, mentions of murder, mentions of corpse mutilation, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships

Part 2 is gonna include more of this and the smut

Growing up you were grateful for living in a small town. You didn't really relate to the coming-of-age stories told in the movies where the small town girl runs off to the big city for a whirlwind romance and a chance at some "big break." To you, small town life was more picturesque than any overcrowded city. You knew your neighbors, and watched a lot of their families grow and change throughout the years. A small town allows you to become a regular at several businesses, including the coffee shop and your favorite diner downtown. Going away to college was tough even though you didn't go far. The nearest city - a little over 40 miles away - had a great college with a program you were really interested in pursuing.

You went home every break and picked up delivery jobs at one of the local restaurants. It was winter break of your last year in college when you first delivered to the Aizawa residence. In all your years at the restaurant they never ordered delivery, one of the two men would always place an order for pick up. The thing about small town stereotypes is that small towns tend to self-impose said stereotypes. The Aizawa's were that family. The one that everyone whispered when they came to town and children would tell horror stories about during Halloween. They were the weird family that lived just past the outskirts of town.

You weren't entirely sure what either of the two men did. Everyone speculated that Mr. Aizawa was some sort of mountain-man-feral type and maybe did some mechanic work for the folks that tend to live in between towns. His husband, Mr. Yamada seemed like the stay at home trophy husband but you heard he did some sort of conspiracy podcast. They had children - reportedly, but no one has really met them - and other family members that live similarly further out into the middle of nowhere. The drive was absurdly long but they were loyal customers and the owners didn't want to turn their request down. Your boss handed you a chunk of bills to fill up your tank before heading out. That's no place you'd want to get stranded, he told you.

The paved road got worse the further you got from town. Forty-five minutes later you were pulling down the dirt road that led to the illuminated Aizawa home. A wall of cold air slammed in to you when you opened your car door and you grumbled about leaving your gloves at home. There was no doorbell, so knocked and did that awkward please-don't-let-me-freeze dance while you waited. Two unfamiliar faces opened the door, an apathetic looking teen and an adorable little girl. Must be their children. The older one called out for his dad before taking one of the bags you held and disappearing into the home. You looked down awkwardly and wave at the girl. She smiled shyly and reached out for the other bag.

"Are you sure?" You asked her, "It's a little heavy."

She nodded.

"Okay, but use two hands," You passed her the bag. "Oh jeez, you're strong. Don't tell your brother, but I think this is the heavier bag."

You smiled when she giggled and ran off.

Mr. Aizawa appeared in the door, "How much do we owe?"

He was just as terrifying up close and for a split second your mind went blank while your basic instincts were begging you go back to the car. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking irritated at your falter.

"Uh - forty-two."

He pulled counted out a chunk of bills and then you were off. You didn't even count the amount until you parked. Forty-two with a forty-dollar tip. They may be odd but apparently they're loaded. You didn't think much of it until the following week when you were heading back to their house with another delivery. You wished that they would order earlier but at least you could hope for another generous tip. You were taken aback when the little girl answered the door by herself, jumping up and down with excitement.

Was she old enough to answer the door by herself?

"Papa," She yelled. "The lady is here!"

She turned her attention back to you with a huge grin, "Shinsou got sore that you told me I'm the stronger one."

Before you could respond to her the other man, Mr. Yamada, bounced around the corner, "Eri, what have we told you about the door? Oh no, you must be freezing come stand inside while I go get your payment. Forty-two right?"

You wanted to protest, feeling uneasy in their entryway but the little girl tugged you by the delivery bags. So you stood there quietly while she ran back in forth so she could unload the delivery for you. Shinsou peered around the corner so you gave a small wave. Then it was just you and Eri once again. In the background you could hear Yamada asking his husband where the wallet went.

"I like your shirt," You smiled, trying to fill the silence.

"I wanted a Pegasus shirt but this was the only one my daddy could find."

"Well I think unicorns are pretty cool too."

You use to babysit for some of the families in town, no part of you could imagine doing that all the way out here.

The blonde rejoined you, giving you another lush payment. You heard the little girl whine about you leaving so quickly until her father appeased her by saying you'd be back.

Something about that rubbed you the wrong way; but you were back like clockwork the next week with their usual delivery. Once again you were brought inside while they went to get your payment. But on your fourth and what should have been your final delivery of the winter break you noticed something was off when you parked. Their truck was missing from its usual spot. Strange but they probably just moved it somewhere else on the property. You had become accustom Eri running to answer the door and telling you wait for her parents in the entrance of the house. You became suspicious after she had run back and forth to take the food to the kitchen.

"Eri, where are your parents? Or Shinsou?"

The little girl's response was nonchalant, "They had to go out, one of our cattle got out. But they gave me the money."

You stuffed the money into your jacket; payment was the issue here. In the back of your mind you though about how you never saw any cattle on your deliveries. A child her age shouldn’t be left alone.

"Oh, well, can I hang out with you while we wait for them to come back?"

The little girl lit up as she pulled you to the living room. There was a kid's movie playing on the TV and she had a coloring book out. Eri divide up her crayons and tore out a page for you to join her. You kept looking to the window, waiting for the truck to pull up.

Suddenly there was banging at the door, which elicited a cry from Eri. You reached into your pocket only finding the crumpled bills. Shit, your stomach dropped. You left your phone in your car. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick delivery. The noise stopped, only for a moment, before resuming.

"Eri, sweetie," You whispered to the stunned little girl. "Do your parents have a phone here?"

She shook her head.

A man’s voice tore through the door, "Let me in dammit, you have to let me in before they come back."

You held your finger to your lip, and Eri nodded, repeating the gesture. The living room light was on and you realized that if he came to the side of the house you'd be seen through the window, but turning out the light would draw attention. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he didn't know if anyone was inside and turning off the light would signal your presence. You pointed to the kitchen, where the lights were off and the two of you tip toed to the safety of darkness.

"Eri, honey, can you go sit in the pantry for me and be really, really quiet? I'll be right out here and don't come out until I come to get you okay?"

She looked hesitant and tearful but you were surprised at her level of composure for a kid. Finally she complied. Once the pantry door was closed you began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something that could inflict the most damage. A meat tenderizer could work. The banging continued and you swore you hear wood beginning to splinter. Your grip tightened with every bang. Finally the door gave way and a man stumbled through the splintered wood. He stopped when he saw you holding the cleaver.

He was dirty, without shoes or a shirt and his skin was red from the cold.

You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, "You need to leave-"

"Monsters, monsters," he blabbed. "They're gonna come back and we gotta go."

You decided to bluff, "Get out of here, I already called the cops."

"Good, good, good," He mumbled, “but we still gotta go. NOW."

There was one step forward from him, one step back from you.

"If you come near me, I'll make sure you don't get up," You warned. At the very least you had to keep him away from Eri. Even if that was all you could do.

There was a desperate look in his eyes; they darted from you to the keys hooked to your jeans, then back to the keys. Finally he smiled, "You have a car, man that's perfect. Listen I won't hurt you but we need to get in your damn car, now."

Sounds like something someone who wants to hurt me would say, you thought. Apparently you took too long to respond, the man lunged toward you and you tried to swing the meat tenderizer. The tool connected with his shoulder and he howled out in pain but still managed to wrestle you to the ground. The two of you struggled with each other and the man was yelling that you'd die if you didn't listen to him. You landed a weak hit to his jaw, splitting his lip. You even tried biting at him but he was persistent and struggling to get your keys. You were telling him he could have them that he just needed to let you go but he wasn't listening to you. Managing to grab his ear you had a flashback to the self-defense seminar you had to take in college, it should be easy to rip a human ear. So you pulled. Blood began to flow from the wound down his face and on to you. He got you off him before you got the whole ear by delivering a blow to your stomach. The air rushed from your body, is this what it means to get the wind knocked out of you?

There was a loud noise and fog lights flooded through the broken door. Then saw Shinsou and Aizawa pulling the man off you. You pushed yourself and back, clutching at your stomach. Your cheeks were wet. Were you crying or was that blood on your face? Probably both.

The trio wrangled the man outside where you heard more struggling, fighting, and groaning.

Eri. You managed your way to the kitchen but realized you were covered in blood. Not wanting to traumatize the little girl any further you spoke through the door.

"Eri, can you stay there a little bit longer?"

"Can't I come out? I heard my daddies," She cried, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Not yet, okay? They're here and everything's okay, I'm gonna have them come get you okay?"

Thankfully, the door didn't open. As you shuffled toward the front door Mr. Yamada entered, wiping specks of blood off him.

You were shocked when he pulled you into a hug, "You're okay. Sho and Shinsou got everything under control. Where is Eri?"

You told him about her hiding spot and he sighed in relief and rushed to her.

The other two returned with bloodied knuckles that made your stomach churn.

"Yamada," The mountain man called, with his eyes scanning the home.

"Don't worry, Sho, I got Eri. She's fine. Our delivery girl is okay, she's got some bumps and bruises but she made the other guy look worse."

Aizawa ushered you to the couch, expecting your legs to give out at any moment.

"We need to call the police," You finally spoke.

Aizawa assured you he did. They were 45 minutes out but they'd work on getting here faster. Yamada brewed you a cup of tea, “for while we wait.” They finally calmed Eri down and Shinsou took her upstairs to get ready for bed. It felt weird for them to return to mundane evening routines so quickly after all that chaos, but maybe you were just the odd one out. Close to an hour later you were still waiting for the police to show up. Your tea was finished long ago and your nerves had calmed. You were even having trouble keeping your eyes open.

"You think they're almost here, babe" The blonde wondered, draping a throw blanket around your shoulders. "I'm sure she wants to this day to be over with."

---

It was still dark when you woke up. The blonde was fast asleep on the recliner next to you. The police must have come by now but there was no way you slept through the visit. Anxiety from earlier made it’s way back in to your chest. The clock read 4am; had they even called the police. All of the childhood rumors you heard came flooding back and you exited the house as quietly as you could, not realizing your keys were no longer with you.

When you made it outside you noticed dried blood on the ground, trailing toward what you assumed was their barn or storage shed. You were entranced. Looking back to the house, no one was awake; there was no movement, no light, just quiet. You shouldn’t follow the bloody trail, you shouldn't go near the shed; but your body moved on it's own accord and before you realized it you were at the doors. You gave a tug, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open and inside you noticed the lock lay on the ground.

You should have turned around, got in your car, and drove away. Instead you stepped inside and found the bloody, broken body of the man who attacked you. There was a slight sway to the corpse that was hanging from a reinforced pillar. Nearly screaming your hand shot to cover your mouth.

You should've left.

Aizawa was watching you from the kitchen, cursing Hizashi for leaving the shed unlocked. His hand hovered over the secured cabinet drawer that stored a pistol. He wouldn't shoot you only scare you a bit. But you weren't running out in a panic. He didn't even hear you scream. Interesting. He went to join you, moving like any predator concealing it presence and leaving the gun safe untouched.

You should've left.

You finally came to your sense and whirled around only to run into your late night admirer. A terrified squeak escaped you as you jumped further into the confined space.

"Mr Aizawa! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."

He didn't look angry, although you wished he did. It would be better than the unsettling smile on his face.

"That's alright, I was heading out here anyway," He closed the door behind him and flicked on a dim light that lit up the room with shadows. "Can't leave it hanging for too long."

Your throat tightened, he stood between you and the only exit. If he noticed your terror there was no indication that he cared. He turned his back to you momentarily, rummaging through the clutter on the workbench. Now was the best chance you may get and you made a dash for the door. It was a futile attempt and part of you knew it but your nerves were ablaze with adrenaline and you were running on instinct not reason. There was a foreign tightness around your throat that kept you fighting to inhale. Struggling to breathe you didn’t even register the sharp pinch of a needle piercing your deltoid.

Aizawa pressed his nose to your hair, "Behave. Even if you get out of here, your tire has a flat, pesky nails tend to find their way on to the roads out here. A real shame."

He dragged you over to a chair across from the lifeless body cuffing both your wrists to the armrests. Stupid, stupid, he was grabbing out cuffs and I ran straight into him, you scolded yourself. You went to open your mouth and beg to be let go, but you were silenced.

"Keep it down or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."

Your heart was beating so hard it hurt. Once a friend said it was possible to die by fright, if that was true you wouldn't last much longer. Now that you were safely out of the way, Aizawa could make quick work dismembering the carcass. He donned his usual rubber apron and pulled back his hair. With his experience he could finish the job in less than two hours. Now was as good a time as ever for you to learn.

With a sigh he began his explanation and craft:

"Cannibalism has been around as long as we've existed: sacrificially, ceremonially, culturally, especially during times of plague, war, and famine. You can find documented accounts from pretty much every part of the world. And there's no one reason. Our family keeps it simple. We eat meat, animals are meat, and humans are animals. In times of famine and other hardships, this was a reliable food source. Of course now, there's not much of a risk for severe famine to effect people like us but it's tradition. This is how it's been for our family for years. And not just those of us around these parts but our relatives everywhere. It's important to keep old trades alive."

He paused, now splattered with blood, to take note of your dry heaving.

"Please," You gasped. "I just want to go -"

With narrowed eyes he continued:

"It's important for you to listen to our family history. Typically we don't reap a harvest until three weeks after the winter solstice and 3 weeks before the summer solstice. Twice a year is enough to get us by. Zashi and I are impressed that you managed to wrangle him in. Poetic in a way, don’t ’cha think? Consuming the flesh of someone who tried to overpower you. First reap of the harvest. Nice that it's a family affair."

The room was spinning and you were fighting the sedative as hard as you could. There was no way any of this was real, maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you'd been knocked unconscious when that man rushed you. Or better yet, maybe you were asleep at home still. It was possible that this whole delivery fiasco was just a nightmare. Your stomach churned at the speech. There was sun peaking through the cracks in the wall by the time he finished separating the ... different sections. There was no more body, just pieces. You nodded off for a few minutes before being jolted awake by the door opening and letting in the bright morning light .

"Good morning, you two night owls," Hizashi beamed. Walking to his husband handing over a tall mug of coffee. He was completely unfazed by the scene he walked in on. In fact the only frown he made was when Aizawa said he put too much sweetener in the coffee. "Anyways, grumpy pants, I called your sister. She's on her way to pick up Eri and Shinsou for a few days. To give us some time to focus on our little muse. Speaking of, I should go get her some water. Oh, plus we need to fix our door."

---

After you refused to drink anything they tried to give you they left you alone in the shed. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip through and in your struggle you managed to topple the chair over, hitting the floor with painful slap. It was hard to ignore the buzzing of the flies swarming the space where the body once hung. You closed your eyes, your mind wandering to your family and what they would think when they realized you were missing.

Outside you heard a car pull up and were tempted to scream for someone to help you. Maybe it was the police; maybe someone realized you didn't go home last night and found out where your last delivery was. Your captors came out to greet whoever it was and you were glad you didn't yell, they sounded friendly. They were coming toward the shed but you were too defeated to react.

"Sho," Hizashi gasped, "She fell."

The response was sharp and sarcastic, "I hadn't noticed." He yanked you up with ease and the world was no longer side ways but the jolt paired with the exhaustion and drugs left the world spinning.

The woman must've been the sister they mentioned earlier. She squealed with delight, "Oh isn't she the cutest, lemme get a good look."

She resembled neither of the men and gave off cool-soccer-mom vibes. With a gentle grip on your chin she bore into your eyes.

"Please,” You begged, “I just want go home."

The sister didn't waiver, "Don't worry sweet thing, these two are gonna take such good care of you. Just relax and let them help you."

Help? You don't need help from them. You needed to get out of this hell.

"Okay," She bounced toward the exit, "Bring out my niece and nephew, we're gonna have a fun weekend. And take care of your girl, she looks like a keeper."

Finally you screamed in frustration. Brief, loud, and full of anger but it deflated just as quickly when the two men shot you a menacing look. How could all three of them show no display of empathy? You were again convinced this was an alternate reality when both children peaked their heads in to wave goodbye before they peeled away from the home, leaving you alone with Hizashi and Aizawa.

---

There was a hatch toward the back of the room where the two disappeared until they came back with a third body. They were dragging a woman up like a ragdoll and acidic bile burned your throat. If you had to guess you would say she was late middle age. It felt like they were setting a stage, Hizashi pulled you closer to where they stood while Aizawa managed to tie the woman down to the stained table.

"Why are you doing this," you cried. But they ignored you.

"Did you know there are people who pay for certain oddities and they’re willing to spend big bucks to get what they want? We keep whatever makes sense to eat and sell the rest. Ideally nothing goes to waste.”

The next hour and forty-seven minutes were excruciating. There were several “items” – as they referred to her body parts – that they removed while she was still alive; but finally Aizawa made the perfect incision along her thigh and a pomegranate wave gushed out. There was no way she would suffer much longer with this amount of blood loss.

"Please just let her die," You begged the universe. "Please let it end."

For the first time since starting they stepped back from the body, leaving it on the table to come over to you. Aizawa knelt before you and his bloody hand brushed hair from your face; his thumb rested on your lip and you couldn't even physically respond. Hizashi was behind him, rubbing his partner's shoulders.

"You're going to kill me?”

Both men finally softened, coming down their endorphin high. There was something so satisfying about your question. Arousing, even. They made it clear that your life was up to them, which meant they had you where they needed you.

"Am I having a blonde moment? I don't recall saying we'd kill her."

Aizawa threw an incredulous look his way before addressing you, "We aren't going to kill you. We wouldn't've saved you from that terrible animal if that were the plan. We don't kill just anyone. We wanted to introduce you to our lifestyle and now’s the best chance. Eri’s wanted to keep you since day one, but if you can't behave that'll be an issue. Can you prove to us that you’re going to behave or do we have to get you down into the cellar?”

There was no other choice than to nod. Picking up a piece of the dissected woman Hizashi muttered something about starting dinner before telling his husband that you really need to get more rest. Aizawa agreed, and since it seemed like you were having trouble getting rest he decided to give you another little dose of medicine.

#slasher au #mha x reader #bnha yandere #mha yandere #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere x reader

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

hold onto me (im a little unsteady) - sokka x reader

i was listening to the song when i came up w this so feel free to listen to that if you want

summary: a late night with sokka reminds you that even on the worst days, you always have someone in your corner.

a/n: lmao this is 100% self indulgent i have no excuses. my parents are getting divorced and almost every time they're together they argue and so this is just a comfort fic after it happened again tonight bc GD i wish i had a sokka. this one goes out to all my divorce babies or people with parents that never stop arguing. you are very loved<3

wc: 1.7k, this got away from me lol

warning(s): mentions of parents arguing n shit, like the tiniest mentions of implying sex and problems with consent (in general, not with them), but this is all fluff

hey. i know you’re probably asleep right now but could you come over?

It was far too late at night when you sent the text. A question asked on a whim, an offer that would most likely go ignored due to the boy on the other end being asleep.

But goddammit, you really didn’t care. Even if he didn’t respond, just hitting ‘send’ made you feel slightly better. You had already taken refuge in one of the sweatshirts he had left at your house (read: one that you had stolen and refused to give back) and as your eyes fell on the glow of the digital clock on your bedside table, you were once again reminded of how stupid this was.

But you heard the telltale buzz of a notification and all but lunged for your phone, an uncontrollable smile tugging on your lips. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him.

sokka💙: you know i never sleep babe

sokka💙: a curse of my genius

sokka💙: im omw

you’re the best thank you love<3

A pair of fuzzy socks and a refilled water bottle later, you heard the sound of something hitting your window. Though you tensed up at first, a roll of your eyes was all it took before you remembered just who you had invited over. Another smile took over as you pushed yourself off of your bed, pushing the curtains aside in time to see another pebble hit the pane.

A physical effort took place to stifle the laugh as you pushed your window up, and you leaned against the sill on your elbows to get a better look at your ridiculous boyfriend.

“Throwing rocks at my window? I think I’m stuck in a bad romcom.”

He grinned and let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “It’s what’s to be expected from your Prince Charming, right? Besides, I’m assuming that your parents wouldn’t just let me walk through the front door at this hour.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Just the sight of Sokka was always enough to make you feel better, and tonight was no exception. The vice on your heart was already starting to loosen. “Right as usual. Think you’ll catch me if I jump?”

He laughed and made a show of looking up and down the distance and then at his arms. “I’d like to say so, but I think we’d have better luck if I climb up.”

“You sure you can do that, big guy?” you asked with a teasing grin. He rolled his eyes with the same sentiment.

“Of course I can. I just thank nature that there’s a tree so close to your window. It’s saved me from a lot of embarrassing falls.”

You chuckled and backed away from the window, the slight chill from the night air beginning to get to you. “I’ll leave you to it while I get things ready.”

Truth be told, your room was a total mess at the moment. You knew Sokka wouldn’t care, especially not now, but it put you slightly more at ease to have something in your life that you could control. You were in the middle of shoving some previously strewn-about clothes into your closet when you heard the click of your window closing. When you turned around, you were met with your boyfriend’s smiling face.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured as you walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you kissed him lightly on the lips, unable to stop the blossoming smile nor the warmth that the action gave you. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” The softness of his words were in stark contrast to the joking bravado from only minutes earlier, and as you stepped away from his embrace and pushed yourself onto your bed, he joined you on the other side. “And not that I’m not happy to be here, but I just wanna know. What’s going on?”

You sighed, letting one leg hang off the bed as you tucked the other in. It was a testament to Sokka’s power how quickly he had gotten you to forget about the new mess of the night. “The usual showing of fuckall and fuckup. I’m more impressed by how they never run out of things to scream at each other about.”

Your bad joke didn’t get a laugh out of him, which you were secretly glad for. Instead, he snaked an arm around your back and tugged you closer, a contented sigh falling from your lips as you nestled your head into the space between his shoulder and his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

The phrase had gone in one ear and out the other more times than you could count from your parents, but each time Sokka said it, the words held a different weight. You knew it wasn’t your fault in the first place, but guilt didn’t care all that much for logic. You knew he meant it though, and once more the vice loosened.

“I know. But it still helps to hear it.” You glanced up at him, reaching a hand up to twist a loose strand of his hair around your finger. “You should wear your hair down more often,” you mused. “It makes you look like a prince.”

He chuckled, amusement glinting through his ocean eyes. “I did say I was your Prince Charming, didn’t I?”

You smiled, slowly uncurling his hair from your finger. “Yeah.”

“That means I’ll always be there for you. Especially to save my royal from their evil stepparents.”

Another laugh bubbled in your chest at that, and you leaned closer into him. “Thank you. The more I visit your place, the more I want your family to be mine. Hakoda is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met, and your mom? She actually makes me want to cry with how sweet she is. I think I know where you get it from.”

He grinned and bumped your leg with his own. “You know you’re welcome over there any time. But maybe you shouldn’t — I think my mom might actually adopt you with how much she loves you. That… that would be really weird.”

His joy was infectious as you planted another kiss on his cheek, something that earned you a, as you liked to call it, dazzling Signature Sokka Smile. “I’ll make sure she holds off on the adoption papers for now.”

“I’d like that.”

And though the happiness you felt at the moment was almost overwhelming, that was just what caused that tiny sliver of doubt to come in. When people invited their partners over at three in the morning, it usually wasn’t to sit on the bed and talk about their problems. It was… it was for more, and you didn’t want that right now. And because you were an expert at it, you decided to put your foot in your mouth and start talking.

“I— I’m sorry that I called you over here so late, for no reason. I know you probably expected something else than me ranting, but…” you sighed, drawing your knees closer to your chest as you brought your other hand to Sokka’s resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

He sighed at that, but you knew it wasn’t one of disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. I don’t care if you just want to sit in silence for the next five hours while we stare at the wall, or if you want to watch sappy rom coms until your eyes bleed. I’m more than okay with staying like this. I didn’t come over here because I expected anything from you — I came over here because you needed me, and so I’m here.” Sokka smiled, an image you didn’t think would ever stop making you melt, and intertwined your hand with his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

You were so stunned at the brazen declaration that your voice got stuck in your throat for a moment, holding back tears. (Happy tears. They were never anything other than happy tears with Sokka.) It hit you then that you didn’t really know what it was like having someone get close to you without an ulterior motive.

“Thank you,” you murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You knew he was smiling, even without having to look up at him. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the kiss he pressed to your hairline.

A comfortable silence hung in the air for a long time until you broke it. “You know… my dad kinda ran off to a motel for the night after this whole thing, and my mom leaves early in the morning. If you were serious about those rom coms…” You allowed the unsaid question of staying the night to fester so Sokka knew he could say no if he wanted to, but he didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course I was serious. I mean, I’ve gotta get the ideas for our future wedding from somewhere.”

You laughed, a sentiment that had occurred more times in the ten minutes he had been here than the past week, and picked the remote for your little box TV off of your bedside table. You clicked through various movies until you found one Sokka liked, and then you cuddled deeper into his side to prepare for the ride you had ahead of you.

Thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, he had fallen asleep, arm still around you and one of his legs slightly intertwined with one of your own. But it’s not like you minded — the familiar weight of Sokka in your bed had caused all your worries to melt away, if only for the night.

You didn’t expect him to last past the first movie, but you were sure you would at least get through until Katherine Heigl got the man. But there was an overwhelming feeling of safety permeating the air with Sokka’s arms around you, and you ended up knocked out before she could even get through all twenty seven dresses.

It wasn’t lost on you how fortunate you were — he didn’t expect anything like that from you, he just wanted you to be safe. He was there for you. You would never understand how you had gotten so lucky with your boyfriend, but you would never stop being grateful for him.

this is the most self indulgent thing ive ever written and i am NOT sorry

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka fic #sokka #sokka atla #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #atla fic #sadie writes #everyone deserves him.... sokka im sorry u have 100 gfs and bfs

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halfpint55 · 3 years

Text

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards - Chapter 16:

by @oldpotatoe on AO3

"Hina claps with awe at the eruption of flames from Zuko’ skin. It is yellow, yes, orange too, but there is purple in the fire, and green, and red, blue, white, pink and more, all dazzling and brilliant as they burst from Zuko’s palms.

“Cool!” she yells, but Sokka hears her as if from a distance, finds his heart catching somewhere between his throat and mouth at the sight of Zuko’s shy smile, the rainbow reflected in his eyes. The light flickers over both their faces, vibrant and ethereal.

...

Sokka turns on his heels slowly, awestruck at the colourful warmth surrounding them. Zuko’s taken care to keep the flames a safe distance away, but Sokka can still feel the gentle heat of the fire flowing around him. It sinks into his skin, pushes all the way through to some unknown, untouched part of him that resides deep within his chest, making it unfurl until its blossoms peek out like the first buds of spring. And when he comes to a stop right back where he started—staring at Zuko’s cupped hands, his upturned mouth, his hair shimmering a thousand different shades, the way he looks up at Sokka just then with his unscarred eye squinting at its corner, bright and effusive and striking— the blossoms spread wide in his chest, trailing up and down and throughout him, catching at his seams. Coming alive.

And he thinks, oh.

And he thinks, oh shit."

Note: This art has a very specific song to go with it!

“We’re not equal parts / light and dark / we can be brilliant”

I literally had this song on repeat most of the time that I was drawing this and this particular lyric just hoofs u in the chest as you look at Zuko SOFT AS ANYTHING bending dragon fire so pls, feel free to play it while you peruse the art.

There’s been a lot of really amazing but oh my GOD PAINFUL art from the flwogb fandom recently so in these trying times may I offer this happier piece to remind you of the magic moment Sokka fell for Zuko for the second time in 5 years. I title it “Oh Shit”.

I'm such a sucker for a character realising they're in love with the italicised "oh shit" I go FERAL for that every single time and ms oldpotatoe fucking DELIVERED on that (even though she delivered an emotional sucker punch almost immediately after thank u ma’am). This moment just made my breath hitch as I read it and I was thinking “of course, of course they just make their way back to each other. of course they do”. It was such a gorgeous moment I had to put my phone down for a moment and BREATHE.

something that really inspires me to create from Ruby’s fic is the perfect clarity of the writing - I can SEE these gorgeous moments she writes as already made paintings in my head and I gotta DRAW. This one was clear as day, so I’ve spent so long trying to achieve what I saw in my head and I think I’ve come pretty close.

Not gonna lie I drew his expression and immediately got emotional about my OWN GODDAMN ART, (but I have been assured that this is completely normal).

Now I can’t post this without talking about the goddamn hair. I wrestled with his hair on this for MONTHS - I always thought that I'd struggle with hands, or even anatomy and proportions but NO. Hair seems to be my drawing nemesis and makes me wanna snap my tablet in half but nonetheless i have persevered (but for the love of all that is holy please zoom in I beg u I spent too long on the little details).

In terms of the shading and colour, the hair is very much An Experiment and I haven’t played with hair and light much before, but i was so intent on capturing the colours of the fire reflected in Zuko’s hair, i wanted it to be so ethereal. ethereal enough to just make Sokka fall headfirst down the stairs, two at a time, in love. So I gave it a go. It’s possibly too shiny and not quite how real hair would behave, and i’m probably gonna go away after posting and keep fiddling with it, but you know what I think it’s pretty, and im gonna challenge my perfectionist self to just... leave it be.

Ruby, I love u and I offer u this humble art as a small bribe to treat my boys well in the coming chapters (please, we don’t always have to go backwards do we?). <3 <3

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Game Night

EZ Reyes x F!Reader

Request by @beardburnsupersoldiers: If you are still doing the roommate prompts....maybe number 3 with Angel, EZ, and reader???? Bonus points if all that delicious tension is happening between reader and the Reyes of your choice! (Prompts are from This List btw)

Warnings: language, alcohol, EZ being a sore loser

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This was really fun to write! I don’t think I’ve ever written a fic quite like this one before so it was a neat little dynamic. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

EZ Reyes Taglist: @ly--canthrope @noz4a2 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be added to any of my taglists let me know!)

“You grab beer for tonight?” you had your phone pinned between your ear and your shoulder as you tossed your grocery bags into the back seat of your car.

“I was supposed to grab beer?” EZ chuckled.

“You can’t even try to pull that shit, Memory Boy,” you laughed.

You could hear the smile in his voice, “Yes I grabbed beer.”

“You’re perfect. I think I’m still gonna go to the liquor store though.”

“What for?”

“…liquor?”

You could envision him rolling his eyes at you, forever fed up with your remarks, “I feel like that’s excessive.

“Live a little, Ezekiel,” you joked, “It’s game night.”

It wasn’t long after you had moved in with EZ you started up game night with him and his brother. It was a good way for them to unwind and forget about the stress of the club, and you just genuinely enjoyed their company. It was nice to play host every now and then, even if it was just for one extra person. You and Ezekiel made quite the pair.

You knew how potentially messy it could get, having feelings for your roommate. That’s why you kept your thoughts and emotions to yourself. But you couldn’t deny that there was something about EZ that was really hard to tear yourself away from. There were moments when you could swear that he wanted you too, but they were fleeting and you always ended up writing them off for the sake of your sanity. When EZ wasn’t paying attention, Angel gave you grief about it. He was at least gracious enough to keep his mouth shut in front of his brother, although on more than one occasion he would shoot you a suggestive look, and you would respond with rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

You popped open the door to your apartment, multiple bags hanging from each of your arms. EZ turned and looked over at you from where he was situated by the counter, pulling together food for the three of you to eat later. He laughed as he walked over and offered to take some of the bags from you, but you waved him off.

“I have a very delicate balance here, Ezekiel,” you laughed, “If you take one I’m gonna tip over.”

He laughed as he stepped out of your way, “Got more in the car?”

You gave him a disbelieving look, “You think I was raised to make more than one trip from the car with groceries?” you shook your head as you carefully started sliding bags off your arms onto the floor, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “My bad. Didn’t mean to insult your honor.”

He helped you put the groceries away before he got back to getting food ready. You made your way to the closet in your room that housed an absurd number of card games and board games. You had always meant to bring Cards Against Humanity to the clubhouse because you felt like it would make for an extremely fun night. You’d have to just put it in EZ’s bags one of these days so it would turn up there on its own.

You heard the sound of your apartment door shutting, and moments after Angel’s voice echoed through the apartment, “What game am I whopping your asses at tonight?”

You laughed loud enough so that he would hear you from the other end of the apartment, “You’re toast, Reyes. You don’t stand a chance.”

He appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, “Stand a chance at what? What’s the game of the night?”

“Wanna do drunk Uno?”

He laughed, “That sounds dangerous.”

“Really? Less than two minutes ago you were saying that you were gonna whoop everyone’s ass tonight. Now you’re backing out?”

“I didn’t say that. Gimme the fucking cards,” he swiped them from you with a laugh before heading back towards the living room.

Plates and beer bottles were scattered on the edges of your coffee table while the three of you took up the center of it with your Uno game. The bottle of tequila rested next to the deck in the center of your table, waiting for one of you to lay down a draw four and make the next person take a shot along with their cards.

Angel had been sitting back and watching you and EZ trying to destroy each other all night. Angel was the king of talking smack, but tonight he was more interested in spurring the two of you on than getting you riled up himself. It was an effective tactic, too, because the amount of tequila he’d had to drink was minimal. Instead, he happily worked his way through a couple beers with little to no interruptions. He was really just waiting for one you two to get enough alcohol in your system to do something about your feelings. He was sick of watching the two of you dance around it.

“Angel shuffles next game,” EZ said with a shake of his head, “There’s no way you fairly ended up with all of those cards.”

“You’re just mad because you hate the taste of tequila,” you teased, “But fine. If it makes you feel better,” you handed the deck over to Angel, “Here you go.”

“Told you he was a sore loser,” Angel chuckled as he shuffled the deck of cards.

“Shut the fuck up,” EZ laughed as he threw a loose bottlecap at his brother.

Despite Angel being the one to shuffle the cards, EZ was looking at another loss. You were kind enough not to say anything, but the look in his eyes as you smiled across the table at him let you know that he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You’re about to go 0 for 3, little brother,” Angel laughed as he put a card down.

“Thank you, Angel, I wasn’t aware,” EZ chuckled and shook his head as he looked over the cards in his hands.

You stretched your legs out underneath the coffee table, not realizing that Ezekiel had done the same thing not too long before you. Your foot brushed lightly along the inside of his thigh as you stretched and he instantly jerked his leg, causing his knee to slam into the bottom side of the table. He cursed under his breath and Angel looked completely lost, not having realized what happened.

You, however, were sitting there with a smirk on your face as EZ looked over at you. The look in his eyes gave him away and you could see him make a concentrated effort to take a deep breath.

“Suck it,” Angel completely moved on from the tension between you and EZ as he threw down his last card, “Alright. That’s it. I’m out,” he slowly rose to his feet.

“Leaving already?” you laughed as you looked up at him.

“Already? Listen, querida, you make me take any more shots I won’t be able to ride home. Some of us have shit to do tomorrow. Imma take my win and leave,” he walked over and kissed the top of your head, “Keep whooping his ass for me. It’s good for him.”

He and EZ gave each other a brief hug, EZ not getting off the floor to do so. Angel looked back and forth between the two of you one more time before shaking his head and making his way for the door. Once it shut behind him, you looked back to EZ with a smile.

“Just you and me now, Ezekiel,” you said as you placed a card on top of the one Angel had just laid down.

“Yea, Angel isn’t here to team up on me with you anymore. You’re done for,” he chuckled.

That was the last thing that was said between the two of you for a few turns. You kept looking at each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking as if it weren’t already painstakingly obvious.

“Uno,” you said as you got yourself down to one card. You paused, waiting for EZ to get enthralled with making his next card choice, “How’s your knee, by the way?”

He flicked his eyes up to you, “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” you nodded, a smirk on your face, “good.”

He lowered his cards, “What?”

You shook your head, “Just wondering. Sounded like it hurt. Thought it might’ve thrown off your game a little bit.”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he set a card down, “I’ll be alright. Draw four,” he pushed the bottle towards you.

You chuckled as you poured yourself a shot and got back into the game. The two of you were able to drag it on for a while. By the time you were getting towards the end of it, both of you were kneeling, leaning onto the coffee table as you tried to beat each other to the last card. You were down to two cards left, EZ only had four. But you could see him sweating it out, not wanting to have yet another loss for the night.

You laid a card down, chuckling as you said, “Uno.”

He groaned, clearly agonizing over which card he was going to put down next. You bit back a laugh, not wanting him to accuse you of trying to distract him. With a deep sigh he finally picked a card and set it on top of the deck between you. You looked back and forth between that card and the one in your hand multiple times, dragging it out.

Finally, you looked up at him and smile, laying the card down, “Take a shot, Reyes.”

His eyes grew wide as he looked down at the draw four that was staring him in the face. He looked up at you, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Read ‘em and weep,” you laughed as you sat back on the carpet.

“You’re so done,” EZ laughed as he stood up off the floor.

You let out a scream that turned into a laugh as you jumped up off the ground, trying to run to your bedroom and shut the door before EZ could get to you, “Angel’s right, you are a sore loser,” you laughed as you scrambled.

You threw open the door to your bedroom and were about to jump inside when you felt an arm wrap around your waist, his hand landing firmly on your stomach as he pulled you back towards him. You laughed as he spun you around, but your breath quickly got caught in your throat when you realized how close he was to you.

“I won fair and square,” you tried not to let your nerves shine through.

“Fair and square seems like a stretch,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but to focus on the way his fingers pressed into your skin. You swallowed hard, “Why is it more likely that I cheated than me just being better than you at Uno?” you laughed, “What you do want, a consolation prize?”

As soon as you said it, you almost wanted to take it back. Almost. EZ smirked, “What kind of consolation prize?”

You wanted to look anywhere but at him because you could feel what little resolve you had fading away quickly, “What’re you thinking, EZ Reyes?”

He leaned in close so that his lips were practically touching yours, but not quite. You took a deep breath before closing what little distance was left, hands resting on the back of his neck to keep his lips pressed to yours. When it clicked in his brain what was happening, that you wanted the same thing he did, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing your chest flush against his as he kissed you. Your fingers traced along his jawline as his lips moved against yours—it was everything that you had thought it would be and then some.

When you finally took your lips off of his, you both let out quiet chuckles. EZ loosened his hold on your waist slightly, pulling back so he could get a better look at your face.

You smiled at him, “That a good enough consolation prize?”

He laughed, nodding, “I’d say so. I’m willing to forgive you for rigging the deck for that.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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gogglor · 3 years

Text

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely. Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear. “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel. I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN. They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern? Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09. You look like shit. They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way. Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy. Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered. Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram you sent. Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

#capimrecweek #tony stark #Steve Rogers #stony #fanfiction #MCU #ficrec

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thelittleboyfromloveactually · 3 years

Text

Two Shorten the Road

part 1

joel dawson x reader

warnings: cussing? idk, bad writing.....fluff, cuteness, monsters(is this a warning), mentions of death, SPOILERS

word count: 2154

prompt: when your best friend decides to leave your colony to go find the love of his life, you decide to join him on his journey even if you aren’t so happy about where this journey is going

Welp I did it, I took it into my own hands. I am writing a joel dawson series. Because we👏need 👏more👏joel👏fics👏 it’s basically the movie, almost the same script but obviously slightly different…ENJOY! <3

No one in my generation or later had a typical upbringing, I mean some of us did but then the world ended. This type of thing sounds straight out of some apocalyptic movie, but we basically live in one now. Agatha 616, an asteroid heading straight for earth, I know, so original. So we all came together and did what we do best, blow things up. Yup, we blew up teh asteroid, and humanity was saved! We thought. But here’s the thing about rockets, they are made of a bunch of chemical compounds which eventually rained back down on earth. Suddenly there were these Aileen creatures that mutated and started eating us. Ants, lizards, roaches, crocodiles, you name it. Our president was even killed by a giant moth. Ya….not so original now huh? We suddenly need tanks to kill ants, oh man I remember the good old days when a shoe would do just fine. Sometimes even the tanks didn’t work. Eventually the really big ones and our military took each other out and we lost 95% of the human population in a year! Those of us who survived hid, bunkers, caves, panic rooms, all around the world. So for the last seven years I’ve been hiding in an underground bunker. It’s really not as bad as it sounds, and it’s better than getting eaten alive. It’s a great group of people and we all love each other.

“Are you sure they’re asleep?”

“Who?”

“Y/N and joel!”

“Oh ya I’m sure”

“Joel? Y/n?”

“He’s asleep”

Actually we are both awake. Me and my best friend joel have kinda mastered faking being asleep. Our beds are right across from each other so we normally just lie there and make stupid faces at each other. We are the only two single people in our bunker. Nice huh? Joel is my best friend. I met him when I joined the colony. He’s the sweetest. It’s funny cause everyone thinks we should just have sex already because that’s literally all everyone else does. But we are way above that. Anyway, joel is in love with his girlfriend from before the colony, her name is Aimee. With one “I” and two “e”s. He loves to talk about her, he writes her letters. So in reality, I am the only one who is not in love in this bunker. I’ve never had a boyfriend, ever, even before the world ended.

We don’t really get any sleep. The moaning kinda keeps us awake. I got up and out of my bed and headed for the kitchen. I heard Joel’s bed creak and then his footsteps as he followed behind me. Another annoying thing about being down here is that to get to the kitchen from my room, you have to walk though other people’s bedrooms. Oh shit, they are busy, why would they leave their door open. Me and Joel stopped.

“Oh” joel and I said in unison

“Hey Y/N! Hey Joel!” Ava said

“Oh hey Ava” Joel said, we didn’t dare look over to our left.

“Y/N how’s it going?” Tim asked

“T-totally good tim, h-how are you doing” I asked

“Yeah, good” he responded

“I uh we couldn’t sleep” said Joel looking at the ceiling

“Ya we know the feeling” Ava said with a laugh

“Yeah probably not for the…..same reasons” joel said looking straight ahead

“Your guyses door was open, did you…did you know that?” I asked

“Yeah we know” they said

I shook my head and knitted my eyebrows together

“Okay” joel trailed off

Ever since Tim’s parents were eaten by a swarm of termites he and Ava have gotten really close, in every way.

“Okay, goodnight” joel said as we walked

Basically everyone is coupled up down here, a baby was born last winter! Welcome to the apocalypse kid. Ok if we ever get out of this, that would be an awesome story to tell your kids. “Oh ya I was born in an underground bunker doing a monster apocalypse” “yes exactly like World War Z but with bugs bigger than a 5 story building”. I mean come on.

So your probably wonder how the hell we get food, we’ll we have a cow. Gurdy. Gurdy is great. We also have a hunting party that brings back whatever they can from the surface. It’s gotten harder and harder, cause we ran out of bullets. And facing one of those things with a handmade weapon is just as hard as it sounds. It’s very very difficult. I go with them….sometimes. I still get scared. But I’ve been out quite a lot, especially compared to my man joel over here. I’ve been out maybe 30 times, he’s been out…maybe once, or not even. He’s the chef of the bunker. He makes super good Minestrone.

Me and joel like to hang out with Mavis. A robot. Yup. Not much for conversation, her batter is shot. Just like every other mavis I would imagine. When I’m not hunting we hang out with her. But sometimes I just go read. Reading and joel keep me sane. I mean sometimes joel drives me insane but I still love him. I have quite the collection of books too! I’ve got Emma by Jane Austen, a couple random ones that we found, all the hunger games and Harry Potter books, some mysteries that stopped being mysteries after a while, and then of course some smutty romance books for personal entertainment.

Joel likes to say that his thing is target practice. He has never hit the target but ya know, gotta entertain yourself. I think his thing is drawing though, he has this book that he draws in from Aimee. It’s really cool actually. He’s really good.

I sat watching Joel as he tried to hit the target, laughing a little every time he missed. It was cute how hard he tried.

“Shut up” he said shaking his laugh away

I laughed again, but then suddenly the lights started flickering. You could hear screeches and creeks echoing through the bunker. Joel turned to look at me. Worry and determination in his eyes. We both scrambled out of the room and into the kitchen where everyone was preparing.

“Hustle, hustle people we’ve gotta move”

I turned to look at Joel but then realized that he wasn’t next to me. Where did he go? Worry flooded through me. Suddenly the clanking of our weapon started behind me.

“Hey guys!” Joel said as he rammed into the railing, I shook my head. “Guys! I’ve got the weapons” he smiled at me

A few people walked over to him taking them out of his hands

“Stay” said Tim

“W-what?” Joel asked looking around in confusion

Everyone was talking and barking orders “grab what you need and let’s go! Y/N you coming?”

My eyes shot open “yes! Yup!” I jumped up and grabbed the bow and arrow from Joel.

“W-what's happening?” He asked innocently “what’s going on?”

“There’s a breach” said Tim

“What do you mean? Like inside the bunker breach?!” He asked

“Yes joel! Now come on!” I told him, patting him on the pack as I followed the others

He followed me and watched the plan get arranged

“Anna, Y/N and I will engage. Anderson and Tom plank him”

“Plank him, ya ok where do you guys need me? You want me to uh come through the rear or..?” Joel asked eagerly

“I don’t think your going to pass this joel” I told him

“Pass what? You guys need help, let me help” said clutching his crossbow

“You gonna make me say it?” said Sam

“Say what?!” God he was so adorably clueless

“You can’t handle it joel, your shook” said Sam, we all began getting into positions

“Ya ok, yes so you guys don’t get scared..ever?” He asked still getting ready to fight

“We get scared, we all get scared joel, but you get really scared” said Sam

“They are trying to make you feel bad joel” I said sweetly, trying to calm him down

“We love you joel”

“But your a liability”

“Ok why did that speech feel so rehearsed? And what about Y/N? She’s like…ya know?” He said bobbing his head

“Joel-“ suddenly the bunker shook and the lights flicked again

“Ok 30 meters out! Let’s move!” And we were off

Leaving joel and some others behind. You could hear the growling of whatever we were up against

I followed the others and listened carefully. I was freaking shaking. Don’t ask how I got sucked into becoming one the the hunters. Kinda just happened and I was just-

“OH SHIT!” I heard someone yell, it was too dark to see. Someone was gone, that thing took them. I couldn’t even see it. Oh fuck my life. Everyone began scattering, running away from the monster. I stopped running to take a breath, when I realized I was alone. Nicely done Y/N. The lights kept flickering. I heard something blow up in the distance.

“Conned? Conner?” I heard a whisper, one I knew all too well. Shit, joel. I ran toward the sound, and had no idea I was also running toward certain death. I stopped running. There it was, that thing. I’d never seen this before. I didn’t recognize it. I stayed silent, not moving at all. It slowly crawled over a shower curtain. Oh fuck. He was going toward joel! I quickly grabbed my bow and arrow and shot it. Right though the face. Next to its….eye I guess you could call it. Joel stood there, frozen.

I slowly walked over to him “Joel, hey are you ok?” I asked as I slipped my hand into his. He was trembling. Tears ran down his cheeks. He has a bad freezing problem, so I've been helping him work on it.

About an hour later I sat with Joel, still holding his hand as he stared out into space. We could hear everyone talking. How could this have happened?

“It ripped through steal”

“Anderson and I resealed the Breach point, nothings getting in that way again”

“But why did it happen?”

I tried to toon it out, and I hoped Joel did too.

“Joel, do you wanna talk about it?” I asked squeezing his hand, he looked so sad, which just crushed me

He shook his head

“Ok….” I nodded, I leaned into hug him but was interrupted by his voice

“How far away is Aimee's colony?” He asked

I pulled back, looking at him confused. The talking stopped and everyone look at him

“What?” Tim asked

“Aimee’s colony, how far away is it?” He repeated

“About 85 miles” he said as he furrowed his brows

“How long will it take to get there?”

“What do you mean joel?” I asked leaning closer to him

“Just humor me, how long?” He insisted

“7 days” said Tim

“Someone who’s armed and trained would hardly last 50miles, but you…joel” Ava said, I felt bad for him, he really didn’t deserve any of this

“Alright” Tim continued “now I need volunteers”

“I’m gonna go” joel said

No one said anything, they just stared

“It’s an impossible journey joel” said Tim, crossing his arms

Joel stood up, moving around my chair. “No im serious…I love you guys but there’s only one person in this world who ever truly made me happy and she’s only 85 miles away” he said strongly “I’m gonna go see her” I could see his mind was made up

God he was such a romantic, how could you not love this guy? Sure it hurts when your best friend tells you that you didn’t make him truly happy. Especially when you maybe sorta kinda have a crush on him.

He let out a breath “woah, that felt awesome” he said as he walked off to start packing

I stood there for a second processing and thinking, but then suddenly my mouth took over and well….

“I’m coming with you!” I said, he froze “I mean you can’t leave me here with these middle aged people, and your my best friend so” I shrugged

“I’ll come back for you I promise” he walked over to me “I can’t let you put yourself in even more danger” he said grabbing my arms

“I can’t let you put yourself in danger knowing that I could have helped protect you” I said, he stared blankly at me

I smiled “o-ohK…then I guess…” he trailed off

“Cool I’ll go pack” I skipped past him. Was I scared? Hell yes. But like I said, I needed to help joel and protect him in every way I can. And sure I wasn’t so happy that he was returning to his long lost love but if it made him happy then I would live. And anyway, two do shorten the road.

#love and monsters #joel dawson series #joel dawson fics #joel dawson #joel dawson x reader

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

1979

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (Read part 2 HERE)

Rating: T (Teen) - part 2 will be E

Summary: The year is 1979. You need a ride to anywhere that’s far away from where you are. When a handsome stranger in a rustbucket pickup gives you that ride, neither of you could predict any of the events that follow.

Warnings: Smoking (and lots of it), mild violence (a punch is thrown), brief harassment of reader, food, mention of a gun (one is encountered but not used), mention of homelessness, brief mention/description of war (Vietnam), child abandonment, mention of abusive/dangerous father figure, passing mention of serial killers, vague description of non-specific events leading up to reader resorting to hitchhiking, very meta mention of a certain beloved space opera

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Whew! This one has been in the shop for a LONG while. Originally I meant for this to be a single work, but I’ve hit a bit of a slump with the last bit. I decided to post this to see how y’all feel about it! The second part will be much longer :) Also: I know there has been some discourse recently about Din’s characterization in certain fics, so I hope this does him justice for you! I’m always open to comments, and like I said I’m very interested in hearing what you think! As per usual, no use of Y/N and please heed the tags/warnings.

8:47

You lean against the streetlight, glancing down at your watch and then back up to the motel across the street. You told yourself you'd wait until 8:30 and then you'd go back and reserve a room for another night. As you watch the second hand wind its way around the small, plain face of your 2-dollar timepiece, you've convinced yourself that maybe staying out until 9 is the ticket.

Your ticket, out of this shithole town.

The summer air is hot and thick around you. It's especially unbearable both between your legs and at the band of your bra, the elastic stretched around your middle doing its best to make you feel as sweaty and uncomfortable as possible. At least you're wearing your cutoffs, giving your legs the chance to breathe. You've also got a loose tank on, which flutters in the sticky wind as cars pass you by.

8:51

Your thumb has been stuck out for passerby to see for the past three days. No one has picked you up. You suppose you should be more wary of taking lifts from complete strangers with all the murder and kidnapping that's been in the news recently, but you're more than a little headstrong with a dash of stupid to go along. That's what your mother always told you, anyway.

Some Cadillac speeds past you, blaring what you think is a Donna Summer song, and you watch as the music and taillights fade into the night.

You shouldn't be surprised, you figure, as the minutes continue to tick on by. There's a gas shortage, you reason with yourself as you bend down to pick up your bag, thumb still stuck out, elbow resting on your waist. People don't do this anymore. Afraid of getting picked up by a pervert or a killer. Afraid of picking one up, and then a streetlight just like the one you're under is the last thing they see.

8:58

You sigh, ready to head in for the night. Marvin, dude who sits at the motel's front desk, is sure to give you shit about it again.

You're preparing to cross the street when you hear the low growl of a pickup truck approach. Not looking to get creamed by some fuckin' rusted-out GMC, you step back onto the curb where you'd been posted.

Except the truck slows up, and the window rolls down as it crawls to a stop in front of you.

Your heart races. Finally.

You walk up to the passenger side window and look in, expecting some fat old putz looking to get some tail in exchange for a ride.

That's not what you see.

"Need a lift, young lady?"

The truck's driver is older than you, sure, but you were wrong about pretty much everything else. He's got short dark hair and a 'stache, with some stubble across his chin. He's wearing a leather jacket over a plain gray tee, with a pair of sunglasses hung on the collar. One hand is on the wheel while the other is laid across the back of the bench seat, a cigarette perched in between his first two fingers.

You lean forward on your tiptoes as best you can, forearms resting on the door's open window. Pretending to survey the interior, you look around and take the opportunity to check the man out. God, you think. I wouldn't mind giving him whatever he wants in exchange for this ride. Maybe another kinda ride. Ha!

"As it turns out, I do. You offering?"

You rest your chin on your arms and give him the sweetest smile you can muster. The man eyes you up and takes a drag from his cigarette. You watch with rapt attention as he inhales deeply and then exhales the smoke out through his nose.

This guy's got you all hot and bothered and you haven't even gotten in the truck.

He gestures with his hand. "Come on, kid. I gotta make the state line by midnight."

You definitely like the sound of that. Eager and supremely stoked to finally have a way out of this dump, you pull on the handle, jump in, and swing the door closed behind you. Your backpack finds its place between your feet, and the stranger starts driving again as you pull your seatbelt across your shoulders.

"Where're you headed?" the man asks, glancing over to you and then looking back at the road. The asphalt seems to stretch into infinity, flanked by trees and fields and the occasional watering hole.

"Away from here," you chuckle as you fidget with your fingers. Black nail polish decorates your trimmed nails. It's chipped and uneven in some spots; you never were great at painting your nails, especially your right hand.

"I got that," the man drawls, voice deep and smooth like honey. "Any particular destination in mind?"

You shrug. To be honest, you hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. Your first and only priority was a way out, and anything after that was a problem to be handled when it came to it.

"Nope. Just as far as you're willing to take me."

The guy nods and takes a drag. The smell of cigarettes never bothered you like it does some other people; you find it relaxing, calming, especially when it's fresh and all-consuming like it is in this guy's truck. The vehicle itself is old, maybe 10 or 15 years, and a glance into the bed behind you tells you he's traveling with a couple boxes and nothing more.

It's certainly not state-of-the-art, but that's all the better for staying under the radar.

The silence looms over you like a cloud. The stranger seems content to just listen to the engine and the tires on the road, but you're prone to fill silences unprompted.

"What's your name?" you ask, and look over at him. He glances at you and raises a brow.

He clears his throat, eyes moving back to the road. "You can call me Mando."

"Mando?" you retort before you can stop yourself. "What kinda bogus name is that? Like, what... you got a thing for mandolins or some shit?"

The man huffs. "It is what is, kid. Get used to it."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "Alright, alright... Mando."

He doesn't try to continue the conversation, so you don't either. Minutes pass, and then hours, and you find yourself drifting off not too long after the clock reads 10:00. You shake yourself awake, wanting to stave off sleep until he pulls over to rest for the night.

But the engine is like a lullaby, the soft swaying of the truck a gentle rocking motion, and your eyes fall closed despite your best efforts.

When you wake up again, the truck is no longer moving, and the clock reads 12:30.

You must have been woken up by Mando putting the truck into park. The darkness outside does not give any clues as to where you are, but as your eyes adjust you can just make out some picnic tables, garbage cans, and signs.

A rest area. Makes sense.

Mando is fumbling with something beside you. It's a map, you realize when you look over.

"Where are we?" you ask with a yawn.

"Just over the border. Made it a bit later than I would've liked, but that's not a big deal. You can sleep here in the cab. I'll take the bed, since I sleep there anyway."

You nod, though you find it odd the way he's... not asking you for anything. He hasn't mentioned payment, monetary or otherwise. You watch as he folds the map back up, and catch his gaze as he stashes it in the glove box.

"I gotta repay you somehow, mister," you mutter. "For how nice you're bein' to me. 'Specially since I made fun of your name and all."

At your words, Mando gives you a stern look from under one of his furrowed brows. "No, you don't. Blanket's under the seat. Get some rest."

He turns away, grabs the keys, and is out the door before you can reply.

It's just so unusual for a guy to pick up a girl like you and refuse payment, much less not ask for or take it outright. It's a shame, really. Any other guy, you'd give him what he wanted sure, but with less than enthusiastic participation. The one man to whom you'd gladly deliver anything he asked... and he seems not to want it.

You suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Better a prude than a murderer, that's for sure.

As you reach under the seat for the blanket, your hand brushes against some sort of canvas bag, long and zippered. You lean over to look in at it upside-down, hair brushing against the dusty floor mats.

It's a rifle bag. You reach in to feel at where the barrel would be, and sure enough, there's something distinctly rifle-shaped inside.

Huh. It's not a surprise that a guy like him's traveling armed, but it makes you wonder. A hunter, maybe? Probably. There's a lot of those around.

You spot the blanket and pull it out. It's gray, scratchy wool, but as you pull it over yourself, you find it keeps the nighttime chill away quite well.

You wake up to Mando swatting at your feet.

"Time to get up, sunshine. Gotta get going."

His deep voice pierces through the fog of sleep still hanging thick over your mind. You groan and push yourself up onto your elbows, drawing your feet in to give him space to slide into the drivers' seat.

It's still dark out. You see a hint of light on the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise peeking over hills and fields.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing at your eyes. You're a chronic over-sleeper, so seeing the sunrise is a rarity. It seems Mando has no such problem.

"A bit after six. We'll stop at a diner for something to eat in about an hour. You're welcome to go back to sleep until then." He turns the key in the ignition and the truck rumbles to life, a blast of lukewarm air hitting you in the face.

"No, no. I'm up," you assure him, shrugging the blanket off your shoulders. As you fold it, you look over at the man beside you. He's wearing the same faded jeans and leather jacket as yesterday, but the shirt underneath has changed. The sunglasses are still hung on the collar, but now it's some faded band tee from like 8 years ago.

You set the folded-up blanket on the seat between you and him, watching as he puts the truck into drive and starts off. Before you know it, you're watching the early-morning world pass by outside your window. You kick off your sandals and tuck your feet up under yourself, sitting crosslegged on the seat.

About 15 minutes later, you've grown tired of watching farmhouses and cornfields fly by in the dark.

"So, uh..." you start, not really knowing where you intend to finish your sentence, "you like music?"

Stupid. That was stupid.

Mando chuckles. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" you reply, hopeful that he might have more to say.

"Yes. I do like music."

You roll your eyes. "What kind of music? Jazz? Opera? Country-western? Who's your favorite artist? Got any favorite records?"

He glances over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Well, I figure if I'm gonna be traveling with you for a good while, I might as well know a bit about you. And vice versa."

Mando just hums.

"I'll tell you mine, then," you inform him, grinning widely now. "My favorite record right now is Parallel Lines. By Blondie, you know? I really like them. This time last year I woulda told you my favorite album was something by Wire or the Sex Pistols - I was real into punk, if you know anything about it. Now I'm more into poppy stuff. I just think it's fun, to be honest."

You continue to ramble to Mando well into the drive. The sky grows lighter and the road grows more crowded, but he does not stop you. At the end of a tangent about Bowie, you turn to look at him, and he's sitting there like you haven't just talked his ear off for the past twenty minutes.

"Sorry. I jus-"

"Don't apologize. It's... I don't mind," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, looking at the sandal-shaped marks on the tops of your feet. "Don't you have any particular songs you like?"

Mando's quiet for a minute. You wait, looking up out the window. The sky is a pale pink and blue, with a hint of orange off to the east. A field of cows comes up on your left - your eyes track them as they pass by, wondering what it's like to pet one.

You bet they're soft. Soft and cuddly and so dumb they're cute.

"You have to promise not to laugh."

The words come as a surprise. You look over to Mando, eyes wide and interested.

"Never. Favorite music is sacred."

He sighs. His grip tightens on the wheel, like sharing even a small part of himself causes him distress.

"Tapestry. Carole King," he says, though the words are quiet and guarded.

That wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Really?" you ask, smiling brightly.

He just nods, though he spares a glance towards you, like he's gauging your reaction. You lean back against the seat, turning towards him more fully.

"I wouldn't have guessed. Color me surprised, Mando. You have good taste." It's true. The album's a classic, though more so with girls your age, not guys who pick up hitchhikers and keep rifles in their trucks. "What do you like about it?"

Mando shifts, bringing his left arm up to rest on the door, elbow propped so his head can rest on his hand. "Not sure. She writes a good song, that's all I know."

You're not satisfied with that answer. You'll get to know Mando, even if it's like pulling teeth. "Bull-shit. Pink Floyd writes a good song. Paul Simon writes a good song. Why her? Why that record? It came out like ten years ago, there's gotta be a reason - a real reason - you still like it."

The drone of the engine and the road is like a soundtrack in itself to the silences that loom heavy before every sentence he speaks. You wonder when the last time he really got to talk to someone was - talk like this, not small conversation with the waiter or grocer.

You're no psychiatrist, but it doesn't take a genius to spot someone who's been alone for a while.

Mando hums. "I guess I relate to her songs... in a way I didn't expect to when I first heard her music."

You smile at that, pleased as punch that he trusts you with that information. It's like cupping cool water in your hands on a hot summer's day, fleeting and precious. "What's your favorite song on the record?"

He turns his gaze to your for a moment, dark brown eyes staring at your dirty feet and day-old shirt and messy hair. You're not sure what exactly he sees as he takes you in, but you sit there and allow it regardless.

Mando looks back to the road, watching the small town approaching slowly on the horizon. "I Feel the Earth Move."

You nod. "A classic."

He just hums in response, and you expect the truck to fill with silence once again.

Except it doesn't.

Mando reaches out and presses the button to turn on the radio. Blondie's Heart of Glass flows out through the speakers - and you laugh.

The glowing neon sign advertising Lindy's Diner, with her promise of pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee, gets you more excited than you care to admit. Mando pulls into a parking spot along the street, and you're out the door before the wheels have stopped turning.

Admittedly, you do also have to pee.

You rush into the diner to take care of your business, also using the provided sinks to brush your teeth and the mirror to comb through your hair with your fingers.

It's not much, but you do feel better. Hopefully tonight you can stay in a motel at least, maybe take a shower.

You exit the restroom and look around the diner. Mando's sitting in a booth, smoking a cigarette and looking out the window. You head over, tossing your backpack into your side first and sliding in after it.

"I'll be right back," he says, and leaves. You watch him walk over to the men's restroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

Whatever. Kinda rude. Not like you care, anyway.

You lean back in the booth and take a menu from the stand at the end of the table. The classic breakfast platter is looking particularly tempting, with its hash browns and bacon and eggs-however-you-like. You're contemplating scrambled versus over-easy when you hear a pair of footsteps walk up to your table.

Two strange men stand over you, looking at you like they know exactly how homeless you really are.

"You here alone, baby?" the shorter one asks, putting a grimy hand on the back of your booth, right behind your head. You open your mouth to say no, in fact, I am not, but the other guy speaks for you.

"It looks like you are, honey. Just our luck, a girl like you all on her -"

"Is there a problem?"

Mando's deep voice cuts through whatever it was the creep was planning to say. The low timbre of his voice, normally soft and kind, is uniquely dark - almost menacing - when it hides a threat.

You slowly cross your legs, hoping no one notices the movement under the table.

The two guys turn, and behind them you see Mando, looking extremely pissed. He puts a hand on the back of the taller man's neck, cig still perched between his fingers, and yanks him away from where he'd been standing in front of Mando's side of the booth.

"Jesus, man! We didn't know you were -"

Mando puts his hands on his hips, eyeing them up like a lion might size up its prey. "What? You didn't know what?"

The guy gulps. "Uh..."

"Come on," Mando taunts, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Don't get nervous on me, now."

"We didn't know you were with her, man. Sorry."

Mando shakes his head. "No. Don't say that to me. Say it to her." He nods hid head towards you, subtly positioning his body in between yours and theirs.

You're frozen in your seat, torn between fear and arousal.

The tall guy glances at you. "Sorry," he mutters. The shorter one's still looking at you funny, though.

Your companion jerks his head towards the door. "It's best you both leave, now."

You realize the diner's gone quiet, customers and employees alike watching the exchange with bated breath. The taller guy glances around and turns, heading straight for the door. His buddy hesitates, gaze shifting from Mando to you and back again. Eventually he also turns to leave, following the other one out.

Mando slides into his seat, though he won't quite meet your gaze when you look at him. Noise picks up in the diner once again and you let out a shaky breath.

You're about to say something when the two guys pass by the window. The shorter one peers in, works his jaw, and spits on the ground on the other side of the window from you. You see him mouth the word 'bitch!'.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Mando to try and joke about it, attempting to brush off the uncomfortable encounter. But he's not there, and you realize belatedly that he's now storming outside.

Mouth agape, you watch as Mando stalks up to the short guy. Jesus, you think, if looks could kill...

The creep whirls around, throwing a fist at Mando before he even gets a good look at him. Mando dodges it easily with a step back, looking simultaneously murderous and annoyed. He winds his arm back and sends his fist flying at the creep's face. The guy stumbles and falls, clutching at what is now a bloody and broken nose, landing on his back on the sidewalk. His friend has long run off.

Mando puts a boot on the guy's sternum, pressing down so he can't get up no matter how much he struggles.

You see him lean down, elbow on his knee, and say something. The guy's eyes widen and he nods frantically. Mando then removes his foot and, without sparing the guy a second glance, re-enters the diner.

He slides into the booth again and takes the menu from you. There's blood on the knuckles of his right hand, but he makes no move to wipe it off. He flips through the pages as if nothing happened. You stare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter, voice soft and wavering.

Without looking from the menu, he responds. "Yes, I did."

"But, you coulda just... just let him go..."

"I could have," he replies, and turns a page. "But I didn't."

"But -"

For the first time since you both entered the diner, he looks up at you, and you're taken aback the intensity of his eyes. "He deserved worse, kid. Far worse."

He sounds so sure of it that you can't bring yourself to say otherwise. You sigh and clasp your hands together on the table, unsure of where to go from here.

Just then, the waitress comes up to your table, notepad and pen in hand.

"You two know what ya want?" she asks as Mando puts the menu back in its place.

He gestures for you to go first.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have the classic platter with scrambled eggs and white toast. And black coffee, please."

The woman nods, writing your order on her pad. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the blueberry flapjacks, please. And coffee, black, for me as well."

The waitress nods and turns away. As you watch her push through the silver kitchen door, you realize that maybe you should be grateful for the way things went. That they didn't get uglier.

That Mando was there at all.

"Thank you," you say softly, doing your best to convey your sincerity to the man sitting across from you.

He simply nods, observing you with a look you can't quite place.

After breakfast, the two of you set off down the highway again. Fleetwood Mac flows out through the speakers and you don't expect to stop until after noon, when Mando will have to refuel (both the truck and your stomachs). Until then you kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the dash, window cracked about an inch so the summer wind can flow through your hair.

Despite the rocky start to the morning, the hours pass by easily, weightlessly. Sometimes you talk with Mando, other times you simply sit and watch the world pass by. You don't think you've ever seen this much land in one go, and it thrills you. The idea that there's so much more.

The topics vary from your time in school to movies to the truck. You're surprised to find out that Mando's never seen Star Wars, a fact nearly unheard of to you. You promise yourself that you'll make him watch it sometime, somehow.

Lunch passes without incident; you insist on paying for your ham and cheese sandwich, because Mando had covered breakfast before you could protest. It hits the spot, along with your ice-cold Coke from the little market's freezer. There's a line to get gas, as there is everywhere, but luckily it isn't too long, since you're in the middle of nowhere. Mando won't be able to fill the truck up again for a few days, meaning you'll have to stop for the night earlier tonight than you did yesterday.

You do find something interesting at the market and you decide to shell out the money for it because it intrigues you. A new style of Kodamatic camera, complete with a pack of instant film - 12 potential photos.

In your mind you see pictures of mountains, and the truck, and Mando, and you stuff the camera in your bag before your mind can wander any further down that road.

You have to admit - traveling with someone who you know can protect you if the need arises is comforting in a way that almost makes you nervous. You keep telling yourself not to get used to it, that this is just a temporary situation for as long as he sees fit to keep you around. After he decides he's had enough, he'll leave you, and you'll be on your own again. You can't get too dependent on him.

Nighttime arrives much too quickly. The sun has just dipped below the horizon when you drive into another small town, not much more than a stoplight and a few bars. You get lucky, though, because the unmistakable neon of a motel glows just ahead.

"Thank god," you groan as Mando pulls into the parking lot. "I need a shower so goddamned bad."

Mando chuckles. His arm rests with his hand out the window, flicking the ash at the end of his cigarette out onto the pavement. The orange glow at the end of it brightens as he takes a drag, and you tear your eyes away from his lips before he can catch you staring.

That's another problem. He's every inch as attractive to you now as he was before, except now you know he's nice. The mustache and the dark curls and the broad expanse of his chest are all only made hotter by the knowledge that he likes Carole King and Elton John (he knew all the words to Tiny Dancer) and blueberry pancakes.

Plus there was that whole punching a guy to defend your honor business.

The guy at the motel's front desk reminds you of Marvin. Greasy blond hair and acne on a kid not much younger than you. You give him a disgusted look when he eyes you up, but he cuts it out when Mando walks in behind you. It gives you a small sense of satisfaction to see him so meek before your companion.

"We need a double for the night," Mando drawls, counting cash on the counter, cig perched between his lips. The sign advertised a night's stay for $22. You'd tried to pay Mando your share, but he'd refused your money.

The kid shakes his head. "Only got singles available."

Mando raises his brows. "Really."

The kid, whose name is Matt according to his name tag, nods. It takes Mando a moment to think on it, and then he looks to you.

You shrug. "I'm fine with it if you are, Mando."

He nods once and pays for the room. 12. You take the key and head over to get a head start on your shower while Mando parks the truck and gets his stuff.

The hot water feels divine. Even the towel feels great, because as threadbare and shitty as it is, it's clean and warm from sitting under the vent. You finish up in the bathroom and emerge in a pair of old track shorts and a loose-fitting tee.

Mando's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. His jacket's draped across the table and he's kicked off his boots, so he sits with the remote in hand, barefoot. It's the most casual you've seen him thus far, and it makes your heart race.

"Shower's all yours," you tell him.

Mando looks at you from the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what he's thinking at any given moment, so you fidget with the hem of your shirt as he looks at you.

A thought blooms unbidden in your chest. I wish I could kiss him.

You blink, taken aback at the sudden, intense nature of your desire to feel his lips against your own. Not knowing what else to do, you cross your arms and turn to the TV. Bonanza is on.

"Seen this episode before?" you ask. It's an old show, but you still like it.

Mando nods, humming. "Used to watch these every week, right when they came out. Only the first few seasons, though."

"Why'd you stop?"

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the ground. He gives you a small smile, though his eyes hide something pained.

"I got drafted."

Oh. "Oh. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," he says and gets up, brushing past you to enter the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

You walk over to sit on the other side of the bed from where he was. Drafted. Jesus. You feel bad for bringing it up, even if it was unintentional. The TV plays though you aren't watching, mind wandering to thoughts of Mando in Vietnam. You picture him in the jungle or in a helicopter, the deafening noise of artillery and gunfire filling the air around him.

Maybe that's where he got the nickname. It certainly explains the rifle.

You reach over for the remote and shut off the TV. The clock on the wall reads about 8:00, still early for you, but you tuck yourself under the sheets and blanket regardless. You face the door, away from where Mando will sleep.

Just as you're drifting off, the lamp on the bedside table clicks off. You feel the weight of Mando crawling in beside you, and he too curls up on his side, back turned.

You fall asleep hoping he's not too upset with you.

The next thing you know, you're awake, though the world is still dark outside. Behind you, Mando snores softly, warm breath fanning out across your neck.

Wait.

You blink a few times and realize the two of you must have shifted in the night. Mando's body is pressed right against yours, chest to your back, arm draped over your middle and hand tucked under your chin. Your legs are intertwined and against the back of your thigh you feel -

You feel him.

Sleep is a powerful drug, however, and the realization is not enough to make you move. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you think maybe this isn't so bad. Your tired brain convinces you to revel in it, to enjoy this position you've found yourself in. Before you can second guess that reasoning, you drift off.

And then you're awake again.

This time it's thanks to a rush of cold wind in your face. You reach back to feel for Mando, but the warm pillow tells you he's not there. You open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at something. It's still dark out, but the lights of the motel parking lot put him in silhouette before you.

"What is it?" You lean up on your elbow to get a better look. The nighttime air is cool on your face, smelling faintly of gasoline and rain.

He bends down and picks up whatever it is that's in front of him. You watch as he turns to look left, then right, seemingly in search of something. He turns around and you see what he's holding.

It's a baby's carrycot.

You immediately sit up, heart racing. "Is it -?" you whisper.

Mando nods, closing the door behind him. You get out of bed and rush over to stand next to him, peering into the carrier.

Sure enough, there's a baby asleep inside. It looks to be a boy, about a year old. You bring a hand up to your mouth.

"Why - who would - what?"

Mando shakes his head, staring at the little guy. "I don't know. I heard a knock at the door and there he was - no sign of anyone else."

"We should - what do we do, Mando?"

He brings the carrier over to rest on the table beside his jacket. The boy is out cold - his little hands grip the blue knitted blanket and his mouth is just barely open. He's got dark hair, wispy and soft atop his head. As you observe the sleeping child, you notice the corner of a small piece of paper tucked in between the blanket and the cradle. You reach out and grasp it between your thumb and forefinger, unfolding it carefully.

"What does it say?" Mando whispers. Your voices are low so as to not disturb the child.

"Grogu. Please take him far from here," you read, and feel your blood run cold as the note goes on. "Not safe in this area. His father is dangerous."

It's scrawled in blue ink on half a sheet of lined notebook paper, the fringe from being torn still attached. Your hands shake as it hits you - there's some mother out there so scared for her son that she left him in the care of strangers. That there's a man out there who legitimately threatens this boy's life.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, rage and sadness simmering in your chest.

"We have to, Mando." Your words are shaky but certain. The man beside you rests a hand on the carrycot, still looking at the sleeping child within.

You turn your eyes to him. He nods, solemn.

"Let's let him rest. We'll leave in the morning, get as far west as we can. Might even be able to make Texas if we leave early enough. We can figure it out from there."

His other hand brushes against your back, and then he's drawing you into his chest. The embrace is soft, unhurried, and you lean your head against his shoulder, hands tucked against his chest. Letting your eyes slip closed, you think back on the previous day, how you never could have predicted this turn of events. How you've never felt so uncertain of things, even when you'd lost everything.

Together you return to bed, but neither of you gets much sleep.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #fanfic #din djarin fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x fem!reader #female reader #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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cellard0ors · 3 years

Text

Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

#rhink #randl #my writing #peachworthy #oh my sweet peach

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Perceptive Blindness

Prompt: hi can i have some hurt/comfort lamp where virgil gets the others together and pines maybe? im feeling down and need to see virgil pining. ps i love all your fics (especially Is It Enough?)

Thanks to the nonny for this prompt! I hope it's what you wanted, I had fin with it. I love writing in Virgil's voice so much because I don't have to try and rein in my natural snark as much.

Read on Ao3

Pairings: LAMP babeyy

Warnings: our buddy V has a panic attack but it’s not super explicit

Word Count: 4814

It should’ve been easy, right? To see it coming?

Listen, Virgil’s job is to be observant, to pay attention to shit. Just because he’s notoriously, um, overreactive doesn’t mean he’s bad at paying attention. He sees a whole lot of shit and hey if you saw as much shit as Virgil did you’d be freaking out too, yeah? Okay, great, got that sorted.

So. Here’s the thing.

When Roman starts sitting a little closer to Patton that he used to on the couch or offering to help him cook and clean when they all know Roman would rather do anything else, Virgil notices. When Roman starts getting up earlier and earlier so he can beat Patton down to the kitchen so they can do it together, Virgil notices. (It’s not like he sleeps, he notices this shit when there’s not supposed to be people up and at ‘em for another half-hour.)

So yeah, maybe he sinks into Princey’s room one day and smirks when Roman startles terribly coming out of the bathroom.

“Hey there, Princey.”

“Don’t—goodness, Stormcloud,” Roman huffs, getting his balance back, “don’t do that. Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

“You were in the bathroom, you wouldn’t have answered.”

“How did you know I was—you know what, it doesn’t matter.” Roman shakes his head. “What do you want?”

“What, I can’t just pop my head in and say hi?”

“I’ve never in my life heard you say ‘pop my head in’ and I never want to hear it again.”

“That’s where you draw the line?”

“Everyone has a line, Dark and Stormy.”

Virgil shrugs, smiling when Roman glares at him for curling up on his bed. Which, alright fair.

“So.”

“You’ve yet to explain why you’re in my room,” Roman reminds, sounding less upset than confused.

“Just thought I’d say hi.”

“Yes, sure, that’s it.”

“What, you don’t believe me?” Roman just stares at him. “Okay, okay, I...may have an ulterior motive.”

“Aha!” Roman points at him victoriously. “I knew it! Now tell me, you fiend.”

It’s only the slight uptick of Roman’s mouth that lets him know that’s probably supposed to be a term of endearment.

“Oh, nothing much,” Virgil sighs, “just wondering about your sleeping habits.”

“Considering you’re the only one in the Mindscape who gets less sleep than me, you’re in no position to—“

“I’m not here to yell at you, Roman,” Virgil says quickly, relaxing a bit when Roman’s shoulders slump, “I just…you know, I hear you when you get up.”

“That’s…kind of creepy.”

“It’s my thing, Roman,” he sighs, “I pay attention to shit and it’s not like I’m asleep.”

“I know, I know, I didn’t mean it like that.” Roman sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you asking why I’ve been getting up earlier?”

“Yup.”

“It’s nothing bad, Virgil.”

“Never said it was.”

Roman sighs again, more dramatically this time, flouncing over to his desk, definitely not pouting. “Virgil…”

“What? If it’s not bad, why don’t you wanna tell me?” Virgil’s eyes widen. “Ooh, is it a secret? Are you keeping secrets, Roman?”

“Shut up!”

“No!” Virgil lobs a pillow at him. “Tell me!”

He ducks quickly when another one flies back at him.

“Hey!”

“You threw it first!”

“Yeah, and!”

“Gah!” Roman throws himself up out of his chair, trying to hide how red his face is. It’s not working. “What do you want?”

“I told you, Princey,” Virgil grins, “I want to know why you’re getting up earlier and why you don’t want to tell me.”

“Because I want to!”

“And why do you want to?”

“No,” Roman insists, pointing his finger at Virgil, “I told you, that’s what you wanted.”

“Giving me the vaguest answer that doesn’t actually answer the question is not an answer.”

Roman stares at him for a second. “We’ve said the word ‘answer’ too many times. It’s not a word anymore.”

“Pity.” Virgil shrugs. “Guess you’re gonna have to just tell me.”

“That’s not—how does—“ Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “That is not how this words. Works.”

Virgil snickers.

“Shut up.”

“You’re so flustered, Princey. I haven’t seen you like this in ages.”

“Leave me alone, Virgil.”

The note of genuine irritation in Roman’s voice is enough to give Virgil pause. He slides off the bed and walks over to Roman, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You mean that, Roman?”

Roman looks at him from between his fingers, then looks away. “…no.”

“Okay.” He bumps Roman with his elbow. “Sit down, Princey.”

He winces when Roman lets his knees buckle and just collapses onto the floor.

“I didn’t—okay fine.” Listen, Virgil has no respect for ‘normal’ sitting places at the best of times. He sits next to Roman and watches the prince worry at the cuffs of his sleeves. “Roman, you gotta—you’re gonna fuck them up.”

“It’s fine,” Roman mutters absentmindedly, “I’ve done this before.”

“…not exactly reassuring me here, dude.”

“No, not—not this, I just meant the—my sleeves, they’re…they’re not…it’s fine.”

Virgil nods, frowning as Roman starts to fidget a little more.

“…Princey—“

“It’s Patton,” Roman blurts, his face flushing even brighter, “I—that’s why I’m waking up earlier.”

Something in Virgil’s chest twists.

“I figured,” he says instead, bumping Roman’s shoulder again, “you, uh, you had that look about you.”

“What look?”

Virgil tilts his head a bit. “You…you do know what you look like when you’re in love, don’t you Princey?”

If Roman’s eyes could go wider than when Virgil said he knew what was going on, well, they do.

“I—I’m—wait, what?”

“You’re romance, aren’t you?” The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs upward. “Passion, desire, romance, all of that, right?”

“I am, but—“

“You—alright, I gotta figure out a way to say this without being sappy as shit,” Virgil grumbles, looking away for a moment. “Okay, uh—you’re—there’s no way to say this and not sound absolutely ridiculous, but um…your color’s red, right?”

Roman nods, still staring at him.

“You…your eyes turn red, Roman,” Virgil mumbles, “like…you know how cartoon people get like…hearts in their eyes?”

“I get literal heart-eyes?”

“Kind of?” Virgil waves his hand. “You just—you’re—your irises go red and like…sparkly.”

“They do?”

“Have you seriously never noticed?”

“No!” Roman looks like someone just told him Thomas got another Disney job or something. “I—oh my goodness, this is incredible! How can I see this!”

“Here’s a tip,” Virgil snickers as Roman’s cheeks start to color again, “next time you’re in the kitchen with Patton or something, look at yourself in the mirror or something reflective right after you look at him.”

“O-okay,” Roman mumbles, “okay, okay, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this—“

“Hey—“ Virgil prods him— “you’re supposed to be downstairs in ten minutes anyway, just go now.”

“Right!”

“And…he’s gone,” Virgil sighs, getting up and sinking back to his own room. He pulls on his headphones and turns up the music.

Had Roman…really never noticed his eyes did that? The dude’s had eyes for—well, as long as you have eyes for. Has he never looked at himself when he’s working before? Jeez, and here Virgil thought Roman was looking in a mirror every two seconds.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s noticed something that none of the others did. But still, what with how…obvious Roman can be sometimes, had the others really never noticed this either?

As it turns out, the answer is yes, but also no.

They’re in the living room a few days later and Roman’s bouncing off the walls, as per usual, as Logan looks up every so often from his book, and Patton giggles. Virgil is decidedly not paying attention because of course he isn’t, curled up on the floor out of the way of Roman’s bouncing.

“Watch where you’re going,” Logan scolds when Roman almost brains himself on the banister, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Pfft,” Roman blusters, “I haven’t paid attention to a single thing in my entire life and I’ll be damned if I start now.”

Virgil snorts. Patton makes a vague noise of concern. Logan just sighs.

“Roman, you are clearly intelligent enough to demonstrate that you do pay attention to things.”

“I dunno,” Virgil says, “he didn’t notice his heart-eyes when he’s in love until I told him about them.”

Roman sticks his tongue out. Virgil sticks his out back. Then they notice that Logan and Patton are quiet.

“Guys?”

“Roman has what?” Logan closes his book. “I…I was also not aware of this.”

“Hah!” Roman points at Virgil. “See, it’s not just me!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Patton? Did you also know this?”

“Y-yeah,” Patton manages, his voice strangely quiet, “I mean, I knew about Roman’s eyes, but…doesn’t he have that all the time? Not just when he’s in love?”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Roman freezes, his mouth opening and closing without making sounds. Logan looks quizzically back and forth between the two of them until Virgil clambers to his feet and knocks his elbow.

“C’mon, L, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Sure enough, after a few minutes of them walking away to give Roman and Patton some privacy, Logan makes a small ‘ah’ sound.

“Yeah,” Virgil sighs, “took them long enough.”

“I am pleased to say that this I did notice.”

“Right?”

“I mean it’s not like it isn’t obvious.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Honestly, did they believe we couldn’t see?”

“I don’t think they knew until like, ten seconds ago.”

“They truly are a bit oblivious, aren’t they?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Hey, you know how sickeningly adorable Patton and Roman are normally? You know how much more sickeningly adorable they got after this happened?

Great.

Now double that.

Now you have like, some idea of what Virgil’s going through.

Dates. Kisses. Flowers. Baking together. Sitting on top of each other. Whispers in the corner. Curled around a phone so tight they can’t tell whose legs are whose.

All.

The.

Time.

Is Virgil happy for them? Yes. Absolutely. Great for them. Is he also about to down a bottle of soy sauce to even out the amount of pure sugar he’s being forced to consume? Pass that salt factory over here, please, pronto. That’s probably why the feeling that twisted in his chest hasn’t gone away any.

“Seriously,” Virgil huffs to Logan after the two of them vanish from the kitchen, “Thomas is gonna have so many cavities.”

“That’s not how it works, Virgil.”

“But it fucking could be.”

“I must say I think this has had a…positive impact on Thomas,” Logan says instead, “that his heart and his ego are so…compatible.”

Virgil snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I suppose it makes sense.”

“Yeah, yeah, it makes sense. Right brain boys, we get it. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I’m drowning in a gallon of vanilla syrup every time I walk into a fucking room.”

“Alright, enough,” Logan says, giving Virgil a reprimanding look that’s just this side of too smiley to be effective, “I need more coffee.”

“Ooh, get me some too?”

“I have a better idea: why don’t you come with me?”

Virgil groans. “But that requires moving. And effort.”

“You have legs.”

“But—“ Virgil wriggles down into the nice little divot in the couch cushions— “comfy.”

Logan sighs, shaking his head in what might be fond exasperation. “Very well. Hold this.”

“Okay,” Virgil mutters, taking Logan’s empty coffee mug, “what are you—hey!”

Logan, because apparently none of them have noticed that he can apparently do this, simply tucks Virgil under his arm like a sack of potatoes, conveniently ignoring the fact that Virgil is, you know, a fucking heavy-ass person, and walks off toward the kitchen like this is absolutely fucking normal.

“Do I even weigh anything to you?”

“Your weight is not insubstantial.”

Well, judging by the way Logan’s just walking, like a normal person, uh, it doesn’t seem like it.

“How—since when—what?”

“Articulate as always, Virgil,” Logan remarks, stride never faltering, “I do seek to maintain some level of physical fitness.”

“Some level of—Logan, you’re carrying me like it’s nothing!”

Logan glances down and raises an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

Nope. Absolutely not. Not from this angle. Holy shit.

“No,” Virgil squeaks, “no, nope. I’m good. No problems.”

Logan hums and looks away, easily setting Virgil back on his feet once they get to the kitchen.

Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine right now. Everything’s so fine. Everything’s so fine and good right now in the way that it’s happening. It’s never not been fine. Virgil’s never been more fine in his fucking life.

Holy fuck.

Okay, so Virgil was not observant enough to pick that up the first time around—get it? No? Fuck you, that was funny—but he does start noticing it more often. How Logan can just sigh and pick up the couch to grab his pencil, or how he never balks at having to put away the really heavy dishes that Patton struggles with. It’s—okay. Yep, he can deal with this. Totally.

Virgil just sees a lot, okay?

Which means that he can see how Roman and Patton react when they first realize how strong Logan is.

Patton’s looking for something in the top of the cupboard, straining on his tiptoes. He sighs and starts to try and climb the counter.

“Patton!” Logan rushes into the kitchen past Virgil who sits back to watch the show. “Don’t do that, you know how dangerous it is.”

“I know, I know, but I can’t find the brown sugar, I think I pushed it back too far!”

“Just get the step stool, you know where it is.”

“But it takes so long to reorganize the closet to get it out,” Patton protests, “and I know where it is, it won’t take long.”

“We do need to fix that, don’t we?” Logan sighs. “Alright. You say you know where it is?”

“Yes! I can see it, I just can’t reach it.”

“Alright. Ready?”

“Ready for—oof!”

Patton squeals when Logan just…picks him up and holds him by the cupboard, clutching Logan’s arms like he’s going to fall.

“L-Logan!”

“Can you reach it?”

“Y-yeah, I can probably—oh my goodness, Lo, you’re strong!”

“I’m not going to drop you, Patton, just grab the sugar.”

“Okay, okay, I, um…” Patton fidgets, still clutching Logan’s hands. “Gosh!”

“Patton? The sugar?”

“R-right!” Patton pulls the bag of sugar out of the cupboard as Logan lowers him gently to the ground. “Wow, thanks, Logan!”

“Of course. Though we really must get the closet reorganized, the step stool does not good if we can’t easily access it…”

Virgil snickers as Logan goes off about the closet. He knows damn well Patton is not paying any attention to what he’s saying. He catches Virgil’s eyes and just mouths ‘wow!’

Virgil responds with a shrug of ‘what can you do?’

“Virgil?”

“What’s up, L?” He cranes his neck back to peer up at Logan.

“Patton has requested that we all come to stay in the kitchen,” Logan says, offering a hand to pull Virgil to his feet. Virgil briefly entertains the idea of making Logan pick him up again when he decides against it.

“Okay…?”

“Do you happen to know where Roman is,” Logan asks as he pulls Virgil up, “or no?”

“I think he’s in the Imagination?”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Then you may as well come with me. We’ll have a better chance of finding him.”

Virgil tips Patton a lazy two-fingered salute as they make their way up the stairs. Sure enough, the bright red door to the Imagination is ajar, and as Logan steps through, Virgil spots a castle, a briar garden, and many many cloud fortresses above.

“Well,” Logan huffs as Virgil closes the door, “he’s not running out of energy any time soon.”

“Good.”

“Quite.” Logan glances around. “Well, we’d better start looking.”

Virgil’s about to agree when he hears something whistling above him. He looks up and squints.

He takes two steps to the left.

“Virgil?” Logan turns around. “What’re you doing?”

In response, Virgil just points up.

Logan follows his finger, his expression changing from one of confusion to that familiar fond exasperation again. Virgil expects him to glance around for something soft, or squishy, or at the very least move out of the way.

Instead, Logan simply sighs, takes two steps closer, and holds out his arms…

…and catches Roman effortlessly in a princess carry.

“Hello, Roman,” Logan says like he didn’t just fucking do that, “Patton wants everyone downstairs.”

“I don’t think Roman’s got speech right now, L,” Virgil snickers.

Indeed, Roman—which, hang on, let’s preface this by saying this is a reasonable reaction, okay? Logan just fucking caught him after falling from god knows how high like he weighs less than a fucking pillow, this is not something that just happens—is staring open-mouthed at Logan, panting heavily, frozen in Logan’s arms. Logan tilts his head.

“Roman? Are you okay?”

Virgil snorts when Roman suddenly flails and tries to struggle out of Logan’s arms.

“Roman,” Logan says sternly and holy fuck, “if you want me to put you down I will, but if you do that you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Yep,” Roman squeaks, “you can—you can put me down, I can walk, you can put me down.”

“There we go.” Logan puts him down only for Roman to quickly brush himself off and dart toward the door. “Where are you going?”

“Patton! Downstairs! Forgot! Bye!”

“Well, he seems to be in a hurry,” Logan sighs, adjusting his glasses, only to frown at Virgil when Virgil just bursts out laughing. “What?”

“No, no, you gotta—holy shit!” Virgil doubles over, still cackling. “Oh my god, his face.”

“I don’t understand what’s so funny,” Logan says a moment later when Virgil’s wiping tears from his eyes, “did I do something wrong?”

The concerned question sobers Virgil, at least enough to stop dying. “No, no, L, you’re fine. Roman’s just…having a moment.”

“Because he forgot about Patton’s request,” Logan nods, “and does not wish to offend him.”

“…yeah, that’s it.”

“Well,” Logan says, dusting himself off, “let’s not be late too, hmm?”

“Sure, L.”

Logan might not know why Roman and Patton are muttering furiously to each other and spring apart the second they appear around the end of the stairs, but Virgil does. He just chuckles and winks and settles in to watch a dinner of the three of them being absolutely idiots.

It’s fine.

It’s so fine.

It’s probably because he was laughing so hard that his chest still hurts.

This lasts for like a week, and Virgil’s fucking face hurts from laughing at their fucking faces and trying to hide how hard he’s fucking laughing. And yeah okay Virgil’s in no position to judge, he’s got no idea how ridiculous he looked when he got jump scared by Logan’s freaky strength.

And it’s just not fucking fair because if it was Roman, they’d all expect it. He’d be sweeping them off their feet every two seconds and they’d be used to it by now. If it were Patton, he’d just pick them up and hug them and be the best dad ever and that would be great. But no, it’s Logan.

Logan who’s…Logan. Who can calm them all down better than anyone else but also has that sharp-as-hell tongue and quick wit that runs circles around them. Fuck. He’s just—gah.

Okay, at least Virgil’s not alone here. He’s seen Patton fumble through his words around a surprisingly patient Logan for ages now, and watched Roman stand way too close to Logan too. And yeah, okay, he’s seen the way Logan looks at them too.

So much so that he bites the bullet one day and sighs, tugging Logan out of the living room and to his room.

“Virgil? What’s going on?”

“What’s going on,” Virgil sighs, “is that if I have to look at you pining over them for one more second I am going to scream.”

Logan, to his credit, doesn’t try and deny it. Instead, he simply adjusts his tie and glasses, studiously avoiding Virgil’s gaze. “I suppose it really is that obvious.”

“To me, yeah, to those two, not so much.”

“I will get over this, I’m working on it.”

“God, no, L, that’s not what I—“ Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just talk to them, okay?”

“Are you certain? But you’d be…okay with this?”

Virgil levels a stare at him. “Dude, have you not seen how they look at you?”

“…no?”

“What is it like for you guys? It must be so boring.”

“I can assure you,” Logan says wryly, “I can see perfectly well.”

“Sure, Specs.”

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“Yeah, uh-huh. Sure.”

“Virgil!”

“No, no, I’m just saying it’s interesting that—“

“That’s enough.”

Virgil gulps. “Mhmm. Okay. Yep. Got it.”

He wisely does not go into the living room for the rest of the day.

There’s a lot Virgil sees. He sees the way Logan makes two extra mugs of coffee, sits just so on the couch, touches the small of Roman’s back or the crook of Patton’s shoulder. He sees the way Roman smiles when he looks at Patton the way he doesn’t smile any other time, wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder, keeps his door cracked a little more than usual. He sees the way Patton fusses over the cookies, making sure they’ve always got Roman’s chips and Logan’s pretzels stocked, walks in the middle of the two of them with their hands swinging.

He sees a lot.

And, uh…he realizes something.

Remember that, uh, funny feeling in his chest that he totally thought was from somewhere else?

Listen, just because he sees a lot of stuff doesn’t mean he’s the best at recognizing it.

So yeah. He’s, uh…

You know.

Don’t make him say it.

As it turns out, that can make you blind to certain things. When he’s hyper-focusing on the things he knows he’s going to see, he doesn’t really have the space to realize there’s a whole host of things he doesn’t see.

He doesn’t see the way Patton’s smile drops when Virgil declines his invitation to movie night, saying he doesn’t wanna crash or invade. He doesn’t notice the way Roman makes a point to ask permission to hug Virgil too, cradling him with a tenderness he doesn’t notice that he’s only seen for the others. He doesn’t realize how much Logan’s behavior toward him is how Logan treats Roman and Patton now.

He doesn’t notice much past the ache in his chest.

Then he has a panic attack on their date night and the pain sharpens to an unbearable whine.

They’re not coming. They’re not coming. There’s no one here to help him, he’s alone, he’s always going to be alone, in the dark, in the shadows, away from the light. They’re not worrying about him, why would they? They’ve got each other, they don’t need him, they’ve never needed him, not like he needs them, he’s—he’s all alone, he doesn’t have anyone, no one wants him, he’s going to die like this. He’s alone. It’s cold. The cold is painful. His chest burns from how cold it is. He can’t breathe, it’s so cold.

“Virgil?”

No one is here, no one is coming.

“Roman, can you—?”

Something bangs in the distance.

“Virgil!”

Strong arms wrap around him and pull him into something warm. More strong arms cover his hands and gently pry them away from his face. Something soft rubs his face and strokes over his back.

“I need you to breathe with me, kiddo, come on…”

“We’re right here, Stormcloud, you just calm down now.”

“It’s okay, Virgil, everything is okay.”

They’re…here?

No, no, no, they’re not supposed to be here, it’s their date night, they—oh, god they’re missing their date night for him and he’s ruining it and they’re going to hate him now and—and—

“Shh, shh,” comes Logan’s voice from somewhere above him, “hush now, Virgil, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Patton coos, “I promise. You just sit with Logan for a minute, okay?”

“I’m—I’m so—sor—sorr—“

“None of that, shadowling,” Roman murmurs, brushing—wait, what?—brushing his lips over the back of Virgil’s shaking hand, “it’s not your fault.”

The ache in Virgil’s chest expands and collapses in on itself again.

Logan makes a comforting noise, tugging Virgil gently this way and that until he’s square in Logan’s arms, his head pillowed in the crook of Logan’s neck. Roman’s hand cards through his hair. Patton taps the 4-7-8 rhythm gently on his arm.

“Virgil, honey?” Patton reaches up to dab at his damp cheek when he mumbles a full apology. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Virgil manages, “y-you can go now, ‘m sorry.”

Roman chuckles. “If you think we’re leaving you, little demon, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“B-but you—“

“Shh, shh,” Roman says quickly when Virgil’s breathing starts to pick up again, “take it easy, V, it’s okay, we’re not in a hurry.”

“It’s your date night,” Virgil blurts, the words clumsy and too loud in his mouth, “you—you shouldn’t have to be here. W-with—“

“…with,” Patton prompts gently, “with what, kiddo?”

“…with me.”

“Oh, kiddo…”

“If you think,” Roman says quietly, “that we’d rather be anywhere else than right here, with you, at any time, you’re sorely mistaken, V.”

Wait.

What?

“B-but we’re—you’re—I’m not—“

“Not what, kiddo?”

“…yours.”

Saying it out loud punctures his chest again. Tears well up in his eyes as he buries his face shamefully in Logan’s neck.

“…oh my god,” he hears Roman say faintly, “it happened!”

“But I thought we—we were being more obvious!”

“I know! I thought we were too! But this happened! It’s just like the stories, oh my goodness—“

“Oh, kiddo…”

Virgil can’t process any of that right now, thank you very much, because he’s currently hiding in Logan’s embrace and would rather never emerge again.

If he had, well, he may have been a little more prepared for Logan to cup his face with one hand and pull back enough to look him in the eyes.

“Virgil,” Logan whispers, “we thought you already were.”

Stop.

Wait.

Pause.

Go back.

Rewind.

“What?”

“Surely you’ve noticed, kiddo, haven’t you?” Patton squeezes his arm. “We love you, Virgil.”

“B-but—you—“

“Stormcloud,” Roman whispers, brushing his lips over Virgil’s cheek, “we do, and you’re ours as much as you’d like to be.”

“I—I—Logan—“

“Patton’s right,” Logan says, still cupping Virgil’s face as he wipes away stray tears, “to be honest, I….well, I thought you and I were in a relationship long before Patton and Roman.”

“You what?”

In response, Logan leans forward and kisses Virgil’s forehead.

“You don’t think I’d do that for just anyone,” he whispers, too quiet for the others to hear, “do you?”

Hello, yes, hi, Virgil has precisely zero idea what’s going on right now, so uh, if everyone could just hold the fuck on for two seconds it would be greatly appreciated.

“Aww, Left Brain boys!”

“Shh!”

Virgil isn’t interrupting date night.

The others care about him.

The others love him.

The others want him to be a part of their family.

Logan thought they were in a relationship already.

“Shh, shh,” Logan shushes, his thumb stroking Virgil’s shaking cheek, “you don’t have to say anything right now, darling. This is a lot, I’m sure.”

“Logan’s right.” Roman ruffles Virgil’s hair. “We’ll be here for you, Stormcloud.”

“And that’s a promise.”

Yeah, Virgil’s brain is way too fried by all of this to process any of it. But he does know that Roman’s hand in his hair is warm and soft and perfect. He knows that Patton’s murmuring something quietly that’s lulling him right to sleep. He knows that Logan is still holding him tightly, his lips pressed to his forehead, whispering how much they love him.

“Go to sleep, darling,” Logan whispers, “we’ll be here when you wake up.”

“…rude?”

“You’re not being rude, kiddo, promise.”

“Close your eyes,” Roman calls softly, his fingers scratching around Virgil’s head, “and you’ll see, Stormcloud.”

As Virgil’s eyes drift closed, maybe…maybe they’re right.

Maybe it’ll be a little easier to see that way.

General Taglist:

@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @private-snippers @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @elizabutgayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @such-a-dumbass

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist please let me know! ^_^

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #lamp #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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jhoudiey · 3 years

Text

You like to play God, don't you?

Wrote this fic a while back, #ChickenChallenge starts trending on magicam again, and Yoru ends up trying to distract herself with her friends. Ends up watching Jade as he builds a terrarium, and ends with dumb and dumber fluff. 1825 words.

hey you’re that chicken girl from NRC right?

Yoru stared at her phone. Idia had finally updated it so that she was able to use it freely, her hands no longer an issue on the touch screen. She normally didn’t pay attention to notifications, but had texted him earlier that night hoping to hang out, instead her magicam had exploded, messages popping in so quickly she could hardly keep track

show me ur feet

where else do you have feathers?

check it out, I’ve got weird feet too!

Whoa! Is that from a magic accident!? Crazy!!

omg ur disgustingggggg!!!!

you fucking freak!

ahahahaha no way your real. You’re like a chicken!!!!

can you send me a pic of your chicken feet? They’re so freaky I wanna show my friend!

you ever jerked a guy off with those? Do you want to?

She stared at the picture of the penis in her inbox with disgust, is this how normal people communicated? Why were all these people she didn’t know suddenly messaging her anyway? It was already past midnight, didn’t they have anything better to do? She exited her messages and found there had been a series of throwback posts from NRC Halloween, #ChickenChallenge was trending again. She sighed and closed the application, having lived through that once had been enough, she had no desire to repeat the experience online.

Idia still hadn’t texted her back, but her mood was soured. Focusing on her alchemy work wasn’t enough to distract her from the constant buzzing coming from her phone.

“Fuck this” she grumbled, throwing her phone onto her bed before launching herself out the window. She didn’t need to wait for a text back from Idia, she’d just show up, the same as always.

As luck would have it, however, Idia was busy. He wasn’t gaming as was usual for him at this time of night, but was in the middle of a video chat with Vita, making it much more awkward to sit in the corner of his room quietly. She didn’t want to know what they talked about when it was just the two of them. She wandered back out of the dorm, hesitating in the Hall of Mirrors. It was late, she should just go home...but… he might still be awake too.

She knocked on the door tucked down the halls of Octavinelle dorm, silently cursing herself for going down there in the first place.

“Come in”

Jade welcomed her into his and Floyd’s shared room, a small smile painted on his lips. He was in his pajamas, though clearly invested in building a terrarium, plants and stones laid out carefully on his desk in front of him. She spied Floyd, his pajama shirt discarded on the floor beside his bed, fast asleep curled around one of his pillows facing away from them. He’d likely turned away from the lamp light Jade had kept on as he worked.

“Ahh, I guess it is too late, I’ll go” Yoru mumbled looking between them, she’d never gotten along comfortably with Jade.

“You can stay. I don’t mind, Yoru-san,” He held his hand out to offer Floyd's desk chair to her “Would you care to join me? Clearly something is the matter or you wouldn’t have come by so late. I do know how much you loathe to be here.”

She hesitated.

If she stayed, she’d have to deal with his casual cruelty and observant eye, if she left she may have to deal with another dozen messages about how she was a disgusting bird freak who really should be embarrassed to look like that, not that she needed the reminder. She sighed and crawled onto the chair, her legs tucked in against her body, arms clutched around them as she watched Jade work. He was meticulous.

Like everything he did, every movement was measured, everything planned well in advance to come together just as he imagined it.

“Is this what you normally spend your weekends doing?” She asked, her eyes following his graceful hands as he arranged some moss.

“Hmm, it is something I am quite fond of, yes.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to keep a garden or something? What’s the point of this?”

He laughed quietly.

“This is what humans call ‘a hobby’ I believe. The point is to enjoy it, Yoru-san.”

She rested her chin on her knees, her eyes drifting across his desk to the discarded pieces of clothing on the floor near Floyd's bed. She felt Jade watching her and turned her gaze back to him.

“But why do you enjoy it? What’s so good about building a tiny garden in a jar?”

“You mean what’s so entertaining about creating and controlling an entire ecosystem one can hold in their hands? I wonder…”

She snorted.

“Ahhh, so it’s just something else you can manipulate. Makes sense.” She grinned at him, his hands expertly arranging rocks along the bottom of the jar.

“How cruel, Yoru-san, to suggest my innocent hobby is anything but… I can’t deny the implications though.”

“Hah, so you admit it then. No wonder you like it...” She chuckled, her eyes wandering once again to Floyds sleeping form, his back slowly rising and falling with his breaths.

“Admit it? No, I simply enjoy when certain things go as planned” He smirked at her. He’d caught her wandering eyes twice now, though she was trying to hide it. She hadn’t come here to see him, after all. She faced him again, not wanting to meet his eyes instead focusing on his hands.

“Do you ever add bones?”

“Oya? What is it you’re trying to imply, Yoru-san?”

“...They’d be good for the soil. I can bring you some, if you need.”

“I suppose that would raise fewer questions than gathering them myself...Thank you.”

“Mmmm” She nodded with her head still on her knees, content to watch him in silence. He was building a whole planet before her, a God playing with nature to whatever suited his whim. A rock here, moss there… no wait… over there instead. It was fascinating and tedious at the same time. His hands weaved patterns from nothing, a garden blossoming from his fingertips. She felt her attention slipping and closed her eyes, the soft tinkling of his tools being drowned out by the slow tide of Floyd's slumbering breath. She tilted her head towards him, her own breathing slowing to match his like the sea lazily lapping at the shore.

“Why don’t you lie down with him, Yoru-san? I don’t mind” Jades voice cut through her dreamy haze, jolting her upright.

“What? No. Huh?” She stuttered, horrified that Jade had somehow known the comfort she felt in that moment. “I’ve gotta go, I must have fallen asleep. Bye Jade” She hurried to leave, bumping into Floyd's desk in her haste. The precariously stacked books toppled over and fell to the floor, making an awful racket in the near silent bedroom.

“Oh shit, sorry!’ She whispered in a panic, hoping she hadn’t woken Floyd. She scooped to pick the books up, her wings threatening to topple the chair she had been sitting in just moments ago. Jade laughed as he watched her struggle.

“Fufufu, Yoru-san. You seem quite flustered, did something I say upset you? Perhaps my suggestion to sleep with Floyd-”

“No!” She yammered quickly. Too quickly. “No, I’m just tired. I have to go!” She pushed the books back onto the desk haphazardly and turned to leave, hoping that Jade hadn’t caught sight of her face, red as it was sure to be. How could he have known what she was thinking?

“Hmmpppfff” Floyd whined, wrapping his arms around her waist, his face buried in feathers. “You’re too loud, Fugu-chan, be more quiet”

Jade smirked at the pair of them as Yoru struggled to free herself from his grasp. Floyd whined into her back, dragging her into his bed so he could go back to sleep.

“Yoru-san, it’s better if you don’t fight him, he can be quite insistent when he wants something” She knew he was right. To get free she’d have to peel him off of her, and with how tightly he held her it would be hard, Floyd really was too damn strong. She sighed and stopped resisting, feeling her feet leave the floor as he flipped her over him to settle her between his body and the wall.

He murmured wordlessly as he shifted around her wings, careful not to pull out any feathers accidentally. He settled between them, his head resting slightly above hers, his face nestled in her hair, body pressed tightly against hers. She was glad Jade couldn’t see her anymore, she could feel him watching them still, but with their faces turned away from him he wouldn’t be able to read her expression. She felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she was sure Floyd must have felt it too, though if he did he made no mention of it. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she had come over, all she had wanted was to chat a bit, to forget about the people on magicam trying to ruin her night. She had to admit though… This was nice too. Ever since spring break they’d been more comfortable with each other physically, Floyd often clinging to her whenever he slept over, but so far that hadn’t left the confines of her bedroom. No one ever saw how often she clung back, she’d made sure to disengage from his grasp before he woke whenever she found herself too near him. It was much too embarrassing to be found like this, her face burning again knowing that Jade was probably enjoying himself immensely, proven right yet again.

The lamp clicked off, Jade finally retiring, Yoru felt herself finally relaxing. Her body jolted as tension left her, and she laid her arms across Floyd's, drawing lazy circles on the backs of his hands with her fingers. He sighed into her hair and pressed himself against her a little tighter at her touch, fast asleep once more. Yoru closed her eyes knowing it wasn’t safe to fall asleep where she lay, she had to get up and go home or she’d never hear the end of it. 5 more minutes then you have to go home she told herself, but it really was very comfortable, laying with Floyd like this.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Euuuggggghhhh Jaaaaade, turn your alarm offffff” Floyd complained loudly. He was close...too close. Yoru’s eyes snapped open with a start, she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

“Ahhh, I must have forgotten to turn it off. My apologies, you two fufufu”

“Mmmmm~ good morning, Fugu-chan” Floyd murmured as he tightened himself around her once more. She felt him smile as he nuzzled his face into the nape of her neck, her face blazed red once more.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #yoru crowley #jade leech #floyd leech #dumb and dumber #canon x oc #spent all afternoon working on my new oc i forgot i wanted to post this today #whoops #amon coming soon tho

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