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silentmoths · 4 days

Text

A lick and a promise

Its been *squints* Seven months since i cooked.

god damn its been seven whole ass months CRIES

Boothill got me so fkn good i cant even BEGIN to explain why he's such a comfort character for me ok he just IS.

Boothill x Reader (fem but it's really only mentioned in regards to anatomy.)

NSFW

Enemies to Lovers (kinda?), Smut, Hurt/comfort (kinda?), Oral sex, fingering, boothill is a gd kendoll (sorry boothill genatalia nation i just...wanted to write this like he was a ken doll LEAVE ME-)

7k words, NOT PROOFREAD

The first time you run into the Galaxy Ranger known as Boothill, you’re not sure what to make of him.

You were just an unsuspecting casualty, the pilot, nothing more. Flying ships for the IPC had to beat minimum wage, right? This was your first real gig with them, something a little more secure.

If you managed to make it off pier point without having a gun aimed at you that is.

A…cowboy. You’d heard about them, of course, but seeing one in this day and age was almost unheard of unless you travelled to planets far out in the west, ones untouched by the IPC and their ‘modernizations’.

Yet this cowboy also seemed to be touched by said modernizations, considering almost all of him was made of metal. Hell, all of him might be synthetic, nanotechnology was a terrifying thing, it could eat away the organic and replace it with the inorganic, mimicking skin and its blemishes, hair and all its different shades, like the curtain of black and white you see before you.

“Han’s where I can fudgin’ see em.” He warns quietly, pistol pointed directly between your eyes. You do as he asks, why wouldn’t you? You weren’t being paid enough to put your life on the line for…whatever the hell you were carrying, you didn’t know, the IPC didn’t enforce ledger-checks- You tell the cowboy as much when he asks.

“Yeah that tracks.” he mutters with a roll of his visible eye. “Lookit’ you, still wet behind the darned ears.”

“D-do I get a pardon i-if I told you it was my first day on the job?” you manage to squeak out, a terrible habit really, opening your mouth in times you should really stay silent…but the cowboy cracks a grin, a very sharp-toothed grin.

“Ah heck, really?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he spins his pistol in his hand and tucks it away into its holster. “Look I aint’ got no beef with ya. ya ‘ aint even wearin’ an IPC uniform-” “C-contract work.” You cut in with your explanation, only scolding yourself after the fact for, once again, interrupting the one with the gun. “The IPC really gettin that desperate, huh?” He snorts, his robotic fingers flexing as he himself goes to check the ledger, it was obvious he’d done this a few times…perhaps thats why the IPC had started hiring a third party, someone new for him to kill.

And yet he doesn’t kill you.

He ties you up, sure, but he’s not an entire ass about it, he even apologises when he pulls the rope a little too tight and you squint.

“S’a formality.” He mumbles as he ties the knot tight “y’understand.”

“I guess…Just…thanks for not killing me I guess, Mr.Cowboy.” You shrug, perhaps you were still in a little bit of shock, perhaps you were coping with humour and ‘funny’ comments…perhaps, inside, you wanted to cry because of course of all the times to be held at gunpoint it was your first day working for the IPC.

“Name’s Boothill.” He corrects. Boothill, huh? You’d read about that…some eons old name for gunslinging cowboys who should have been dead.

After you had been discovered, set free, and promptly fired, you decide to look up this ‘Boothill’ character; you find little other than his bounty…whoever he was, he kept himself pretty closed off…made sense for a galaxy ranger.

The second time you encounter Boothill, you’re working on a satellite array. It’s a shit job, it was freezing cold out here, and the welding masks given to you and your coworkers by your bosses were cheap, low quality, offering little protection from the welding torch and its bright, concentrated glare.

After your firing from pier point, no other freighting company was willing to take you on, and in a desperate attempt to get some damned food into your belly, you’d taken this job on some far out meteorite, repairing this shitty, run down satellite so the IPC could extend their reach further.

If the bosses had bothered to do a background check, they would have seen the unfortunate mark next to your name.

’Banned from all positions within IPC jurisdiction’

But considering the shit pay, shit hours, and shit accommodation? The old hand’s out here didn’t really care much for the ‘official’ rules; so long as you weren’t being actively hunted.

There was no sun out here, so every few hours there was a mandatory UV break, in which you all got to return to the little sleeping pods that were nothing but glorified transport containers with a wall sectioning off one third to make a bathroom; just to sit beneath a UV bulb.

Whoever had lived in this one before you had stuck up a picture of a beach on the wall you had to stare at beneath the lamp, and faintly, you wonder if they ever made it there- or had they just keeled over dead from overwork? That seemed more likely, considering nothing had been cleaned out of your pod when you’d arrived.

As you bask in your shitty, simulated sun, an explosion wracks the entire facility, sending you toppling to the floor as the world spins, cracks apart, opens like the gnashing teeth of some horrific space creature.

Was it a space creature? Had the meteorite collided with something it shouldn’t have? You didn’t want to find out, but you sure as fuck weren’t about to stay here and probably die once the oxygen field around the place sputtered out. The emergency guide tape’s you’d been forced to watch are nothing to help against the real thing, a real emergency. There are sirens blaring, the stark white light’s had all died, replaced by that infuriatingly anxiety inducing red as you struggle to put your space suit on.

Just make it to a shuttle, they weren’t far, thats all you had to do.

It’s a mantra you tell yourself as the ceiling above you begins to crack and crumble, your time here was up.

As you wrench open the door to your pod, you collide with someone. Considering you yourself looked like a glorified marshmallow in the emergency suit, you certainly weren't expecting the person you collided with to be as…hard as they were, solid like steel to the point you’re sent toppling back and unceremoniously onto your back, like a turtle.

A familiar pistol is pointed at your helmet.

No fucking way.

Boothill stands there, grin on his face and a gun in yours as he looks you up and down before howling with laughter. “Now what in the hay is that?” he wheezes as you struggle, only to stop when you push the visor of your helmet up, revealing a face he recalls. “No fudgin’ way-”

“You again!” You screech, flailing your limbs as you attempt to stand in this…ungainly suit. “What the fuck are you doing here now!?”

“I could ask you the same mother forkin’ question!” He barks back, yet despite it all, he withdraws the pistol and even shows some mercy, reaching down to pull you back onto your feet “the fork you doin here?”

“Well, someone got me fired from my last job!” you snark at him “and now it looks like I'm out of another, what did you do!?” “Blew up tha’ satellite!” He chuckles as if he’d just won at an arcade game and not caused millions of credits in damages. You open your mouth to…you don’t even know- Shout? Scold a wanted criminal? Beg for mercy? When the world tilts again, the sound of rock cracking and metal creaking fills your senses; resulting in you simply screaming out of fear.

This was it, this was where you died. On a rock, in the middle of space, blown to smithereens by a cowboy. Except, the cowboy reaches down, and for a moment you think he’s going to kill you, just to stop the screaming. Instead, he grabs your arm and yanks you upright without a word, tugging you along behind him like you weighed nothing in this stupid marshmallow safety suit. (perhaps, to a cyborg, you didn’t weigh anything.)

Boothill cares little for the smoke and the flames, and you are just a leaf in his wind, guided through it all with scary precision until there is suddenly nothing and you realise what he’d just done.

This fucking cowboy galaxy ranger had just leaped off of the edge of the meteorite, dragging you along with him.

Correction; this is how you die, once you left the gravitational field, you’d just be stuck…floating in the void of space forever…no one would ever find your body-

Before your thought can finish, you crash into something hard, a ship, you realise, you had fallen into the open loading hatch of a ship, unlike boothill who landed on his feet, you’re simply a pile on the floor.

You hear the cowboy laugh as he turns to look at you, and you thank the fact that you’re face down from keeping your likely red, teary face from his scrutiny.

“Y’alright down there?” He asks.

“Peachy.” you mutter back, your muscles ached, but the adrenaline was already beginning to wane, suddenly the suit felt…heavy, impossibly heavy as you listen to the sound of the ship’s hatch closing. “Why’d you save me?”

Boothill thinks on it for a moment. Why had he saved you? It wasn’t really his M.O, saving people, especially when they worked for the IPC…he supposes a part of him felt a little bad… you hadn’t been working for them directly last time…and because of his stunt, you’d lost that job and had resorted to working for them in this backwater shithole of an array.

“Eh, Y’aint worth killin.” he responds after a moment “S’not like you’re the mother fudger I’m looking for anyways.”

Something about the way he says it…stings. Not worth killing?

Slowly you sit up, a terribly ungraceful affair in this stupid space suit as you pull the helmet off entirely and toss it to the floor, there was no point hiding the tears anymore.

“Wh- hey now! What’s got in yer’ boot?” Boothill balks at your teary face “what’s tha’ matter?”

You hate how stupid you must look, crying, red in the face…embarrassing really. But after the scare you’d just had, you don’t have the forwithall to keep your composure anymore.

“Whats the matter?” you mutter, staring at the cold, metal floor of the ship “what’s the matter is that you have single handedly managed to lose me not one, but TWO JOBS!”

You don’t mean to shout, really, you should be thanking him for saving your life.

“I’m BANNED from working for the IPC!” you cry “I wasn’t even meant to be working here! But where else am I meant to go!? EVERY job is somehow overseen by some division of the IPC, I can’t work anywhere else! Now you say I’m not even worth killing!?”

Boothill stares, the gears turning as he simply takes the emotional vitriol thrown his way. It had been…a long time since he’d found himself faced with this kind of problem.

“Aw shirt…” he mutters, realising his words had only worsened the situation. He takes a knee, pulling his hat off as he watches, he sees the way you’re shaking, your fingers flexing; he might be ‘old fashioned’, but he could recognize a panic attack. “C’mere, let's get this great forkin marshmallow suit off ya.”

You don’t even have the faculties to push him away as cold, robotic fingers begin tugging away at the velcro, the zippers and the straps. Breathing was getting harder, everything ached. Only once the galaxy ranger had pulled you free of the confines of that damned suit could you expand your chest properly. Too small, you realised, the suit you’d been given was way too small.

“Easy, easy, easy.” Boothill mutters as he sits you down “jus’ breathe.”

Easy for him to say, did a cybernetic cowboy even need to breathe?

He could see the struggle, but what the hell was he meant to do about it? It wasn’t wrong..the IPC had their fingers in so many pies… finding a job untouched by them? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack.

It wasn’t often Boothill felt…guilty. But somehow…you’d managed it.

“Aw c’mon, don’t gimme the waterworks.” he sighs “Look…ah’ll admit I forked up your job prospects, I’ll fudgin’ take that responsibility… will ya at least lemme see if I can help?”

“What can you do!?” You cry at him “If the IPC catches wind that I’ve somehow been caught up with you again-”

“Lemme take ya to a planet the IPC don’t care ‘bout.” He cuts in suddenly, an idea forming in his mind. “Been there plenty, they’re good folk, they’ll help ya.. Ya just…gotta trust me.” A planet untouched by the IPC? That seemed like a pipe dream…

“Impossible.” you mutter “any planet the IPC finds, it conquers.”

Boothill grins, that same toothy grin you remember from your first encounter with him. “I know, right? But this one? This one’s special.”

Eyama II was a small planet with little in the way of resources the IPC wanted or needed, a dwarf planet no less, nothing but a speck of dust floating through their air filters. It was a self-sufficient, homely type place…if he was being honest with himself, it’s where he would want to retire if he ever saw his goal through…living the simple life he used to know before the IPC had ripped it from him.

He knows it’s not the most…elegant solution, but he knew some fine folk there, some fine folk who might just be willing to help the poor outcast he’d created. -

It’s a long trip. It had to be if it was out of the IPC’s gaze…but that did mean a long trip with Boothill.

In a tiny two person at most ship.

You didn’t really know what to expect, if he’d just tie you up and put you in the corner…but as it turns out…he’s somewhat hospitable… ok more than somewhat.

After you’d calmed enough to be reasoned with, he’d handed you a bottle of nondescript nature. Without much thinking, you’d taken a swig, eyes widening at the distinctly alcoholic taste. It wasn't anything strong like whiskey, but it was enough of a shock.

“Malt juice.” He clarifies as he takes a seat at the helm, setting the warp drive “figured it’d help calm ya nerves.” You blink down at the bottle before slowly taking another, more temperate sip.

It…wasn’t bad…actually it was pretty good. It burned your throat just enough to keep you in the present.

You both talk…small things, you ask him how he knew of this planet, and tells you about all the planets he’d visited that weren’t under the IPC’s thumb, how all of them were nice, simple places.

He tells you that he thinks you’d like Eymaya II, he thinks everyone would like Eymaya II. It had rolling hills and green valley’s. The people were mostly farmers, ranchers, common folk just going through the motions to get by, but not in the same nihilistic sort of way most did. Good, honest living, as he says.

Part of you wonders if there ever was a time this ranger worked a good honest life, if this whole…cowboy thing was a facade, or if it was real, remnants of a past he couldn’t return to. You’re not sure if it’s his conversation, the malt juice, or both, but you eventually begin to open up, about your home life, about your terrible habit of cutting into conversations when you were nervous, all of it.

And when you begin to fall asleep? Your head nodding slowly where you sat, you feel a cold, metal hand rest on your shoulder.

“C’mon, you need ta’ rest.” He tells you, guiding you to the cot that looked seldom, if at all used.

For a wanted criminal who had put you out of two jobs and nearly killed you both times…he was surprisingly kind.

He wasn’t wrong about this planet. It was beautiful, the air was fresher than you could ever recall, living in the city.

Apparently, the look on your face says as much. Boothill chuckles, tilting his head softly as he watches you take it all in. “Told ya ye’d like it.” He hums, something in his mechanical chest whirring with..pride perhaps? Satisfaction? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing a face that, so far, all he’d seen from was fear and upset finally show…wonder…it felt good. He wanted to see it more, perhaps even a smile one day.

He takes you to the inn, sets you up with Jodie, an elderly woman who had been around the block quite a few times, she didn’t put up with Boothill’s antics, more like…a curmudgeonly aunt at first as she barks at him for not calling in sooner, only for it all to melt away into an almost familial warmth as the cowboy explains himself, explains you.

“now child I know you did not lose this poor thing not one but TWO jobs!” She scolds, hands on her hips.

There is a lick of satisfaction as you watch boothill shrink beneath the innkeeper’s rage.

“Donchu’ worry hon, we’ll getcha set up here, somewhere this block for brains can’t accidentally getchu fired. Only thing that’ll do that around here is laziness…you aint lazy, are you?” she asks, turning to you and squinting her beady, aged eyes at you, making you stiffen up as well.

“N-no ma'am!” you bark instantly “I-I promise to work hard and earn my keep!”

This atleast, seems to settle her some, and before you know it, you have a hot meal and an ice cold drink in front of you, and you want to cry again.

You actually feel…somewhat sad when boothill has to leave…anxiety twisting in your gut… would you really be okay here? Would you survive?

But he pats you on the shoulder and grins, and something about it is…comforting.

Something about it made you want to try.

It’s five years until you see Boothill again.

Jodie had grown too old to continue running the inn, and somehow, against all odds, it was you who had taken over. The entire place was yours, and you were happy.

Not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how you ended up here, but then you recall, the enigmatic cyborg cowboy who had hijacked your ship, and then blown up a satellite array.

Somehow, your outlook on him had turned from disdain to…a strange sort of affection. The frigid anger had melted away, and what replaced it was a sense of…thankfullnes for what he’d done for you. Working here, away from the almost all-encompassing reach of the IPC had opened your eyes to just how…corporate everything felt, and how it so desperately wasn't you.

It’s a late evening, you’re closing up for the night, the bar had emptied of all it’s usual late-staying regulars, and those who had rooms rented for the evening had already retired.

You’re polishing a few glasses when the door swings open.

“Well now, there’s a face I ain’t seen in a forkin long time.”

The voice is familiar, and has you turning, a small smile tugging at your lip. A mixture of feelings racing through your chest.

“Well well, come to let me collect your bounty, Sir?” you snicker, placing the glass you’d just polished beneath the malt juice tap to pour him a glass.

Boothill laughs, sauntering in with the swagger you remember as he drops into the stool closest to you. “How’ve you been, Boothill?” you ask him, setting the glass in front of him and waving away his credits. You owed him one drink, atleast, “what’ve you been up to?”

The galaxy ranger snorts, throwing some of his long hair over his shoulder “How long ya’ got there, sweetheart? S’gonna be a long story.”

“I own the place now, and we’re closed, so all the time in the world.” you hum, deciding to pour yourself a glass as well after locking the door. “Shoot, really? What happened to ol’ jodie?” He asks, voice tinged with legitimate concern as you drop into the barstool beside him.

“She’s fine, she’s fine..just old is all.” You assure him, finding a little comfort in the relief that washes over his features.

“Ah, fork don't scare a guy like that.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair “thought Jodie had up n’ left us.”

“Nah, she’s got a while on her yet.” you snort, taking a sip of your drink.

The conversations run long into the night, catching up, listening to the thing’s he’d done, places he’d seen…IPC operations he’d torn apart at the seams. He listens to you too, as you tell him about how things have been here, catching him up on anyone he asked about. It was like talking to an old friend. You weren't sure…what boothill was to you…a friend? An acquaintance? It was…complicated.

More malt juice enters your systems, you ask if it actually has an affect on him.

“You know…being a cyborg and all..” you mumble, feeling a distinct warm dusting to your cheeks as the malt settles.

Instead of responding with words, the galaxy ranger reaches out and takes your hand into his. He feels…

Warm.

“You tell me, darlin.” He chuckles after a moment, watching you though half-lidded eyes. You barely even notice, more curious about how the alcohol affected him. Without even thinking, you run your fingers along his exposed arm; you weren’t going crazy, he was warm, almost humanly so.

Your fingers continue to wander without much thought until they brush along his jawline; the sudden transition from steel to skin is what finally snaps you out of your own thoughts, pulling back with a squeak.

“O-Oh aeons I’m sorry!” you fluster at his face, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly ajar. “I-I got carried away I’m-”

His hand reaches out again, clasping yours and pulling it back towards his face as he rests his cheek into your palm.

“Don't.” He murmurs, softly, softer than you’d heard him before. “Keep goin…please.”

A realisation settles across your mind.

“You…you can’t feel most touch…can you?”

He doesn't look you in the eye, but he does sigh, only burying closer to your warm palm, worn after years of working hard…but still human.

“S’not that I can’t feel…I can…but..s’mtimes it’s so forkin dull I might as well not…but..my face is…”

“One of the few places you can feel.” You finish the sentence for him, feeling a pang of sympathy. You didn’t know how long Boothill had been like this, but you could wager long enough that he was more desperate for a kind touch than he probably even realised.

“Yeh…” he mutters, his lips turning down into a frown “sorry…ah know it’s probably-”

“Shut up.” you mutter, turning to face him fully, your other hand coming to rest on the other cheek as you watch this man, this gunslinging galaxy ranger, falter. His eyes widen before he shuts them entirely, leaning into it, starved of this type of affection.

“F’ya don’t stop this bullshirt m’gonna think you might have some feelin’s for me, darlin’..”

You didn’t know if thats what it was…but you didn’t want to stop either, a part of you wanting to sate you own selfish curiosity…another part wanting to do this for him.

“It must be a lonely existence, living like you do.” the murmur leaves your lips before you even notice you’d spoken out loud, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. Boothill stares at you in silence for a long moment, his gaze calculating, probing.

“I thought ya’ hated my forkin guts…” He mutters.

“Perhaps once, for a little bit, I did.” You admit “But then you brought me here, and I’ve never been happier..”

A beat passes, then another, and another. Boothill stares at you, the feel of your hands on his face something he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

And then he leans forward, lips crash together and the taste of Malt juice and perhaps a little bit of oil is on your tongue.

You don’t pull back, if anything, you lean into it shamelessly.

Robotic hands grip your waist as your own finally shift from his face to wrap around his shoulders. At some point his hat goes flying off elsewhere, but neither of you care; too strung tight, too wound up to care.

His teeth are as sharp as they look, but he’s careful with them as he nips at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the little beat of blood he manages to draw.

“Shirt-” He mutters against your lips, his eyes shut tight, you can hear his inner mechanics whirring, like a mechanical heart about to rabbit from his chest “fudge, if you don’t stop me now darlin I’m gonna keep taking-”

“Then take.” you mutter back at him, tangling your hands into his surprisingly silky hair and yanking. “Take what you want.”

“Oh trust me, I would but..” Boothill’s growl trails off, and for a moment he looks…embarrassed. You can’t for the life of you figure out why until he steps closer, your knee brushing between his legs- oh.

“Flat as a forkin’ brass tack.” he mumbles.

You’re not sure why, it might just be the curse of your horrible humour, but your attempt at not giggling only sets you off into laughter that you attempt to muffle into his shoulder.

“Ey, watchu laughin at?” you expect boothill to be…mad at your outburst, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, feel the tremble of his own laughter “t’aint funny.”

“It kinda is.” you snicker out, pulling back to look him in the face. He looks a little sheepish, but thankfully, mostly just amused. “It’s okay…we’ll figure something out..”

His toothy grin settles back into a dangerous little smirk as the moment passes again, the kind of smirk that makes your belly twist a little. “Oh yeah, I got some other tricks up my sleeves.”

Without much more to say, you find yourself being lifted, thrown over the cowboy’s shoulder- as you open your mouth to say something, you’re interrupted with a harsh slap to your ass, resulting in nothing but a squeak.

“Where’s yer room?” He snickers as you glare at him.

You consider not telling him, being a brat, but the charming smile he returns to you is… yeah it does something stupid that goes right to your crotch.

“Upstairs…first door on the left.” you mutter, flustering at the way his grin widens.

If you didn’t know better you’d almost describe Boothill as practically skipping up the stairs, the angle for you however was a little trepidatious, and you find yourself clinging to him for a little more stability, right up until he carefully tosses you down onto the plush of your bed, landing with a soft thud.

He’s back on you, and your hands are back on him without him needing to ask; you can see the relief it brings, the way his eyelids flutter and his brow pinches as your fingers glide across his cheek, down his chest and along his arms, still warm, you note…

His lips return too, his own hands untucking your shirt just to get under it, metal fingers gliding over the smooth of your belly, up the your sides as he groans into your mouth. You wonder how much he can actually feel, if it was still dull, or if the alcohol had heightened his mechanical touch sensors somehow. You didn’t care, he looked happy, legitimately happy, like a dog being scratched behind the ears as you indulge him.

His lips move from yours and he begins to nip and taste elsewhere, his nose brushing against your own as he leans in, nuzzling at your cheek, nipping at your jaw, revelling in the little sounds of pleasure he pulls out of you, especially when his wandering hands wrap behind your back and find the clasp of your bra, it comes undone with a surprisingly expert tug and you moan softly at it.

(Who could blame you? You’d been wearing the damn thing all day.)

You wished there was something you could do for him, something to pleasure him like he was doing for you, but you forced yourself to be content with touching him, running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging at the soft strands; running your thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the shells of his ears.

Boothill however, seemed just as hellbent on touching you, but he had far more room to move, to explore, to play.

Metal thumbs find your nipples, embarrassingly hard and sensitive after being trapped in the confines of your bra all day, and you moan as he rolls them both, back and forth in a slow, methodical rhythm that leaves your breath light, and your stomach twisting in knots.

Pointed teeth find your throat, nibbling and worshipping every inch of skin they could catch. You’d have to wear a scarf tomorrow if he kept that up, lest the regulars at the bar notice the strange bruising… but you don’t stop him; you were all in on…whatever this was now.

A metal hand pulls away long enough to pop the buttons on your shirt, leaving the plane of your torso open and exposed to his gaze, nothing short of hungry as he stares down at you.

“Fudge…” he mutters, his voice husky “That’s a nice view…”

“Tease.” you huff.

“Tease? Oh ah’ll show you tease.” He snickers, his mouth returning to your skin, working lower, biting at the junction of neck and shoulder, nibbling along your collarbone before the cowboy shifts further, his tongue darting out to lap at one nipple whilst a hand works the other.

You gasp and moan, a hand quickly coming to muffle your cries, cheeks alight with embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Boothill only chuckles, his eyes trained to your face as he lays, settling between your legs as he rests atop you to continue his work, but at least he doesnt pull your hand away, too engrossed on what he could feel opposed to what he could see and hear.

He switches breasts while his free hand trails down, over the soft plane of your belly and to your belt, unbuckling it with ease and sending the strap of leather flying across the room before those fingers return, popping the button of your work jeans and dragging the fly down. You groan softly in appreciation at the relief it brings, only to feel those metal fingers working the waistband down.

Just what was he planning? you wonder internally as he gives your nipple one last, harsh suck before releasing it, making you keen beneath your hand.

“Feelin good, darlin?” he whispers. He sure sounded like he was feeling good as he nuzzles against your skin, nipping at your stomach and trailing lower, hands gripping at your jeans, pulling them and your underwear away in one swoop, leaving you open, exposed, and embarrassingly wet. “Y’sure look it..” he adds with a low whistle “aint that a sight.”

“B-boothill-” You mumble, an attempt at closing your legs out of embarrassment only sandwiching his head betwixt your thighs. He grins at you; it’s such an endearingly handsome thing, it makes you feel like this wasn’t a first time thing between you both, like he knew you, like he was comfortable with you, which only added to the heat in your belly.

“Aw don’t go gettin all fudgin’ coy on me now.” he snickers “After all those drinks’ ya’ gave me downstairs, I’m still kinda thirsty.”

His metal hands part your measly human thighs with shameful ease as he leans in close; you squeal when you feel his hot tongue lave down your inner thigh, warm breath so achingly close to your cunt it was maddening.

But it seemed Boothill was just as desperate as you were, his mouth attaching to your cunt after only a moment, taking in your squeal as his teeth gently roll your clit, the added danger only serving to make you wetter.

“F-fuck! Boothill-!” you moan out, forsaking keeping yourself silent as your own hands scramble across the sheets, searching for something, anything to ground yourself as his tongue laps at your folds with fever; they eventually find and settle in his hair before giving it a tug.

Boothill groans, the sting is only arbitrary, but he loves it, he loves being able to feel something. The warm plush of your thighs around his ears, the heat of your cunt as he sucks on your clit, only made sweeter by your cries. He’d missed this, he’d missed this a lot..

“Y’aint seen nothin’ yet, darlin.” He growls low and loving against your thigh in the brief moment of reprieve he gives you. You stare down at him with hooded eyes,your knees already trembling from his vicious onslaught; he nips the soft, sensitive flesh of your thigh with a cheeky smirk, holding up a pair of fingers, watching your face as he slowly drags them through your wet folds, collecting your slick; you gulp. “Like a’ said, I got a few fun lil’ tricks up my sleeves.” His mouth returns, lapping and pulling you right back into the overwhelming, wonderful pleasure as a slick metal finger circles your entrance, slow, methodical, torturous. You nearly sob with relief when he finally presses the digit inside, the metal actually making it easier. He hums his approval at how easily his finger is sucked in, pumping it slowly in and out, in and out; taking things at his pace- perfect.

After a little while, you feel that finger beginning to probe, to prod and search for your G-spot, and before long he finds it, signalled by a loud gasp and a sharp tug at his hair, only pulling his mouth closer, his tongue working away at your clit like he wasn’t driving you absolutely mad with pleasure.

Once he’d found the spot, he retreats, slowly adding the second finger and beginning the cycle again, stretching you, filling you stupidly well; it was an absolute tragedy that he didn’t have a dick…at this point you were so stupidly horny, you would have climbed on top of him just for a chance to ride him.

(somewhere in the back of your mind, the saying ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ reverberates)

As you’re right at the height, right at the edge, he suddenly stops, his fingers cease their movements and he pulls his head away, resting his chin on your naval as he stares up at you with such a stupidly loving look that it makes your heart twist; his chin was absolutely drenched in your slick, but he looked so very content.

But you weren’t.

“B-boothillllll-” you whimper, tugging at his hair again, why had he stopped!? Now of all times? You could feel his metal fingers pressed against your G-spot, but unmoving, they did little to pleasure you. You clench around them, but that too, yields little results.

“Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to see your face when I did it.” He chuckles, his smile twitching up in the corner.

“D-do whAT-” your question cuts off abruptly when the fingers inside you suddenly burst to life with vibrations, the strength of which you’d never experienced before. Your body coils and you nearly scream as he rams those fingers into your G-spot, stars exploding behind your eyes whilst pleasure cuts through your belly like glass.

“That.” He hums, satisfied as he returns that sinful mouth of his to your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. His fingers were harsh and rough, crooking into your G-spot one second, and then splaying out the next, dragging rough and harsh against your walls; his tongue however was soft, gentle, slowly and carefully rolling circles around your poor little nub. You were going to go crazy, he was going to drive you insane and you were absolutely letting him. Your body reacts on its own, thighs squeezing hard around his head, spine arched upward; your hips prevented from bucking thanks to one of his arms, wrapped solidly around your thigh and holding you down to the sheets, forcing you to lay there and take it.

You knew the walls here were decently soundproof, but even you began to question if they could muffle out your cries, made worse when Boothill suddenly sits up, pulling you up along with him, practically folding you in half as he continues to feast on your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in centuries, his vibrating fingers plunging somehow deeper.

At first you struggle for air with the new position, your knees almost at your chest, but then he switches the angle of his fingers and aeons-, you didn’t think it could get worse than this. But the pleasure this new angle brings, it’s new, its terrifying and you don’t quite know how to articulate that to the galaxy ranger causing it all. Your hands scramble clawing and tugging at any part of him you could get ahold of, his name falling from your lips along with incoherent babble, desperation and worry all balling into one feeling you couldn’t describe as he continues to piston those fingers into you, hitting your G-spot with such accuracy, the flame in your gut turning from a high heat to a near-volcanic overload as you jerk and struggle.

The final straw is when you crack open an eye, catching sight of him, staring back at you with such…love, such unbridled affection.

You scream his name as you cum, harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Your faintly feel yourself make an absolute mess of his face, arms, your back and the sheets below you as your world turns white.

–

A soft, damp cloth carefully rubbing over your skin slowly pulls you back into reality, rousing you from the soft and gauzy subspace of post-orgasmic bliss. You try to shift, to sit up…to…something- but a hand carefully manoeuvres you to lay back down on a thankfully, dry patch of sheets.

“Easy, darlin’” Boothill’s familiar southern drawl hushes you down “Nearly done.”

You crack an eye to find him carefully cleaning you off with said damp towel. Methodical but careful. You’re trembling from the exertion, but boothill looks absolutely fine, the bastard.

In fact, he looks better than fine. A smile plastered on his stupid face as he works away, wiping sweat and other…fluids, off of you.

When he was done with that, he wraps you in a clean sheet and lifts you, sitting you down on the trunk at the end of your bed, just so he could change the set you’d obliterated with your unexpectedly rough orgasm. You sit there, watching him, half asleep and pleasantly dozy before he pulls you back into bed, pulling you into his side. A glass of water is pressed against your lips as he encourages a few sips into you.

You spend the night sleeping with him curled around you; the quiet whirr of his mechanical body providing a pleasing, soft white noise while hands stroke through your hair.

–

“Do you have to go so soon?” You ask as he reaches for his hat.

He’d been here a week, and it had been…for lack of a better word; wonderful.

But all good things had to come to an end you supposed. The look on his face was enough to tell you what you didn’t want to hear.

“I gotta. I ain’t done yet.” He tells you quietly, despite this, he holds out a hand, a silent request for you to walk with him…the inn and the bar would be fine for a little while.

“I’d ask ya t’come with me, but that’d be the biggest forkin mistake I could ever make.” the cowboy admits. He wanted you to, he’d never felt so content as he had in this week, but bringing you meant putting you in danger…aeons know he’d done that enough already.

“Will you…at least come and visit me?”

Boothill snorts as they meander their way towards his ship “O’course I will.”

“How often?”

“S’often as I forkin can.”

You both stop beside the ship, it had a few more dings and dents than you remember, but it was still in surprisingly good condition.

“Well…” you mumble “at least you know you’ll always have a room at the inn while I still run it.”

“Y’mean yer’ room?” He snickers. “I forkin hope you intend on running the place as long as possible, I pulled in a good favor from jodie to get ya yer’ start ‘ere.”

You smile at him. Boothill thanks every aeon in existence that his cybernetic eyes had a camera function, so he could save that face and look back on it when he was drifting through the universe.

Slowly, he pulls his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as he leans down to press his lips to yours, one last time for the road.

“I’ll be back as soon and as often as I forkin can…y’hear?” He murmurs, you nod; fighting away the sting behind your eyes as you step back.

“I hear…and…Boothill?” you ask as he turns around to step onto his ship, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

#Silentmoth writes #finally #HSR x reader #Hsr Smut #Boothill x reader #boothill x reader smut

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

Note

Hiii, would be comfortable with writing something about the reader not having a good relationship with her parents but loves her in laws and they are basically like her parents, thank you

Note: I have this plotline for Pierre, there are other pieces you can read as well about this too if you haven't read yet and want to read more 🤍

Cw: reader has a bad relationship with her family/has cut ties with her family

"Have you decided what you want to have in the tables?", Pascale asked as she brewed some tea for the two of you, watching Jean and Pierre working on the grill outside.

"Not really, we've seen a few arrangements, and we know what we don't like - especially those really big things where you kind of can't see the person in front of you", you scrunched up your face and she giggled, "it's not the priority on our list, but we're going through all of it in due time", you said, "It has been hard not having anyone else to discuss it with - Pierre only cares so much about how it all looks", you shrugged before composing yourself, "don't get me wrong, he's been very involved, he's been to all of the meetings with the wedding planner and the only thing he isn't involved in is the dress try-on for obvious reasons".

"No need to be so flustered, dear", your soon to be mother in-law soothed your worries quickly, "it's nice to know he's been helping, I knew he would after he asked me a couple of questions", she winked, "you never have to worry about asking for help or opinions - I'd love to to and pick the dress with you if you'd like me to be there", she offered, not wanting to step on any toes.

"I'm glad you're in my life", you spoke up, wiping the stray tear that fell on your cheek. All of the day to day jokes about mothers in-law you grew up hearing and laughing about were surely not written about the lady in you had in front of you.

"Chérie, we're the lucky ones to have you in our lives - there's no one else I'd love to be with Pierre", Pascale smiled, hugging you and rubbing your back gently.

"I like this one," Anna said, looking at the dress you were wearing. The look on your face however didn't match her excitment, "It's not it, is it?", Alexandra offered as you twirled around, not like the naked back detail.

You shook your head and walked back to the dressing room, shoulders slumping at yet another attempt to try on your dress. Was your body the problem? Did you have a funny taste in wedding fashion?

On your way to the curtained area, you tripped on the dress, quickly balancing yourself before actually falling over, checking if you had done any damage to the dress, "just because it doesn't look right on you it doesn't mean you should rip it, Y/N", you muttered to yourself.

"Chérie", Pascale called, "can I talk to you for a bit?", she asked before you nodded, letting her grab your hand, "It's ok, beautiful girl, there are lots of dresses. We will find the one you like the most and that is the one for you", she said rubbing your hand in a comforting manner.

You nodded and looked up, keeping the tears at bay, "thank you", you sighed, squeezing her hand.

The last dress was not one you would usually go for even though you still picked it from the hangers, finding the ties and undoing then enough so you could try it on. You slid the dress on carefully and pulled the ties as tight as you could, pushing your boobs a little so they would fall into the moulded cups. As you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful in it. The bodice fit perfectly, hugging your waist beautifully before fanning out on your hips, and the train wasn't too long, just the right amount to elongate your presence. It felt soft against your skin, and once the lacing on the back was properly done up, it would feel secure and delicate.

Giggling softly, you walked out to meet the group again.

"I think she found it", your soon to be sister in-law Charlotte smiled she saw your radiant smile, "I just need help with the back", you said, turning around so Pascale could help you as she immediately got up and delicately threaded up the laces on he back.

"It's beautiful, Y/N, you look so beautiful", Pascale whispered, "It's like it was made for you," Alexandra clapped her hands excitedly, "This the one", your murmured, twirling around happily in front of the mirror.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#pierre gasly blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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totheblood · 10 months

Text

begging for rain. (two)

󠁐# TWO; the more you break

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

A/N :new chapter yay!! okay so like i'm setting a lot of stuff up and i know that so annoying and frustrating but i really need to paint a picture of dynamics so i hope u enjoy. AI AUDIOS AT THE END ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

READ CHAPTER ONE HERE!!

TWO YEARS AGO

The first day of school went okay.

Inside the hallways, students pushed past each other, sweaty bodies mixing and mingling into a tangled mess. Blue lockers were lined up against the walls, many of them open as students shoved heavy textbooks inside them from their backpacks.

Ellie pushed past them like she was used to it, a ratty leather backpack hanging off her shoulder. Occasionally, she would look behind her to see if you were still following her. You always were.

You didn’t quite know where you were going. You knew your locker number was tucked deep inside your bag and whenever Ellie stopped at her locker was when you were going to pull it out and ask her to show you where it is. However, you were now feeling like you were slightly stalking Ellie and there was some truth to her words. When Ellie stopped at her locker, Locker 2094, she looked at you for only a moment before she was undoing the built-in lock.

“You know you can’t follow me all day,” she said dryly, lock clicking open and her locker door almost hitting you in the face. You decided it was time for you to get your locker number, pulling your bag to the front and unzipping the front pocket where your locker number and lock combination was written on a crumpled-up pink post-it note.

“I’m not following you, Ellie,” You rolled your eyes, unraveling the post-it note, “I was just waiting for a good time to find this.”

“And what is that?” She gave you a weird look and shoved a textbook in her locker, then another.

“My locker number,” You said simply, looking at the number and chuckling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” She wasn’t looking at you anymore, just fishing around in her bag for anything she may have had to put in her locker.

“This is my locker,” You patted the one right next to Ellie’s, right where you were standing to the left of her, “Locker 2093.”

Ellie chuckled dryly again, closing her locker and leaning up against it as she watched you struggle to put your lock combination in, “You’ve taken this stalker thing too far.”

With a click, it popped open, empty and barren. You opened your bag and shoved the one textbook you had inside your locker, a smile planted on your face, “Yes, I’ve just been so obsessed with you since I saw you for the first time yesterday that I called the school district and got my locker to be next to yours.”

“Aha! So you admit it!” Ellie laughed, picking at her fingernails as she looked around the hallways, looking for familiar faces. A group of them walked up, all laughing and talking with each other as they circled Ellie around your locker.

“Hey, El,” a girl said, causing you to look up at her. She was pretty, too pretty. She had her black hair tied up in a ponytail, her skin was olive and slightly tanned, and she had some sun spots scattered across her face, pooling in a center near her nose. Next to her was a slightly taller and much paler girl with black hair cut right above her shoulder, the jagged and uneven edges indicating she cut it herself. Behind them, a much taller guy, with longer black hair and a kind face stood. He smiled at you, and you offered him a kind smile back. Be nice, you cursed, you’re here to make friends, you reminded yourself.

“Hey Dina,” Ellie smirked, leaning back against her locker and looking at the group, “I see your hair is already growing back, Cat,” Ellie reached forward to play with the edges of Cat’s hair before she swatted Ellie’s hands away from her and scoffed.

“You fucked up my hair and you know that,” Her tone of voice was playful at most, evidenced by the wide grin on her face. She was insanely pretty even with her hair all fucked up. You didn’t know why but it made your stomach churn. “Are you going to introduce us to your new friend, Ellie?”

Your eyes widened and darted to Ellie and then to the group, hoping embarrassment wasn’t written all over your face.

“This is Y/n,” Ellie smiled at you, jumping slightly when you slammed your locker shut, “She’s my new neighbor and stalker.”

“Hey!” You rolled your eyes, a smile still on your face, “I am her neighbor, but I’m not a stalker.”

“Ellie’s just too full of herself. Ignore her,” The girl in the ponytail stepped a little closer and extended a hand, “I’m Dina.”

You shook her hand, mumbling a ‘nice to meet you’ before shifting awkwardly and retracting your hand. The guy in the back raised his hand slightly and smiled at you, “I’m Jesse.”

“Nice to meet you, Jesse,” you then looked at the last girl waiting for her to introduce herself. When she didn’t speak, you took it upon yourself to ask, “And sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Cat,” she responded flatly. Her tone was a little icy, but you weren’t sure if you were just feeling insecure or she was actually trying to snub you.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” a nervous breathy laugh fell from your lips and you tightened your grip on your backpack strings, “It sucks moving senior year so I’m glad to make some new friends.”

“Why did you move senior year?” Cat spoke up finally, “You’re not like a psycho bitch that got kicked out of her last school?”

“Cat!”

“C’mon, Cat!” Dina and Ellie chimed in at the same time in your defense. You were admittedly thrown off by the comment but, yet again, you made an excuse for her. Maybe she was just curious. Or maybe she wanted to protect herself and her friends.

“What? I want to know,” she defended herself.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you laughed, giving her a smile. Be nice, your head rang once again. “It’s a valid question. But, no, uh, my dad died and we couldn’t afford to live where we were living anymore.”

Her smug smile fell, and instead, it was laced with empathy or more importantly pity. You hated it. Your newfound ability to ruin the moment. A moment that was supposed to be sweet. A fresh start. Already, you had clouded the new with your past.

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to force you to say that or anything,” Cat apologized and it sounded genuine. It felt genuine.

“It’s totally okay. I’m fine, I’m mostly over it anyways,” That was a bold lie. You were nowhere close to over it but you couldn’t help but want them to like you. To think you were totally normal and carrying no baggage.

“No, it’s not okay,” Ellie spoke up again, shooting a glance to Cat, that made her scoff and roll her eyes.

“I said I was sorry,” Cat shrugged, “What more do you want from me?”

“Maybe don’t call people ‘psycho bitches’ when you first meet them,” Ellie stood up straighter, crossing her arms over her chest and Cat glanced at you again, colder this time.

“You’re unbelievable, Ellie,” She was looking at Ellie again, shooting daggers at her. You were unsure what was going on so you glanced at Dina and Jesse for help. All Dina did was slightly shake her head, a subtle way of telling you to not get involved.

“I’m unbelievable?”

“Yes! You’re unbelievable! Scolding me in front of people like I’m your fucking child or something,” Cat was getting irritated and it showed itself in her face. She had one of those faces that couldn’t hide what she was feeling.

“Then don’t act like a child,” Ellie said simply, causing Cat to let out a huff and turn around, push past Jesse, and leave the group. Ellie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the locker, letting out a heavy sigh, “I should go after her. Can you guys help her to her first class?”

Dina nodded quickly before shooing Ellie off with her hand, “Go, go! It’s fine.” Ellie took one look at you and offered a smile that said ‘I’m sorry’. What she actually said was: “Meet me by my car at the end of the day. I’ll take you home.”

With that Ellie disappeared into the sea of people until she was no longer in sight.

“What was that?” you asked Dina and Jesse.

“Trust me,” Dina looked at you, “You don’t want to know.”

Your first class was English with Mrs. Porter. She made you stand at the front of the classroom and introduce yourself. Jesse was in this class with you and when you were done giving a brief introduction to yourself he loudly clapped and cheered. The gesture made you smile and eased some of the tension you were feeling.

A few people followed him, by cheering and offering you a high five as you moved back to your seat. Everyone seemed to be enamored by him. During class, people would send him notes on little Post-it notes, he would open them, laughing as he read them and wrote some messages back to them. It was subtle, but you could tell he opened up a room.

At lunch you walked into the large cafeteria, looking around for a place to sit. You were sure you looked like a lost dog as you wandered around because a girl with long brunette hair walked up to you with a smile on her face. She was pretty and dressed in a button-up and plaid skirt. It felt too formal for school.

“Hey, you’re new, right?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m Ingrid,” She looked you up and down, “do you need a place to sit?”

“Y/n!” your name was being called from a familiar voice, causing you to snap your head in that direction to see Ellie standing up and waving her hand in the air, “Come sit with us!”

“Oh, I’m just going to sit with,” You pointed to the table where Ellie was still standing and staring intently at you, “my friends.”

Ingrid’s smile fell as she shot a glance toward the table. You were obviously missing something. You turned to move towards the table before the girl gripped your arm firmly.

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name,” That smile was back.

“Y/n,” you told her.

“Y/n,” she repeated, “Pretty name.”

“Thanks,” you scratched the back of your neck, “Well, I’ll see you around.” You quickly rushed to the table, confused about the interaction once again. This place was fucking weird.

You sat down next to Ellie who was laughing at something Cat said. Cat’s eyes sparkled when she looked at Ellie. Brown and glossy as she laughed with Ellie, shaking her head. Her cheeks were slightly pink and she reached over to grab an apple slice out of Ellie’s lunchbox. When Ellie looked back at Cat her eyes didn’t sparkle in the same way that Cat’s did. They were verging on dull, but the corner of Ellie’s eyes still had wrinkles as she smiled.

“Hey!” She grabbed the apple from Cat’s hand, “Get your own apples.”

“Yours just taste better,” she giggled, smiling at you as you sat down, ��Hey, how was your first day?”

She was being much nicer and her energy was much calmer. It was obvious she and Ellie had made up in the time from this morning to now, but you also had to wonder if Ellie told her to be nicer to you.

“It’s going well,” You shrugged, pulling out the brown bag your mom had packed for you, “I’m still getting used to everything.”

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Ellie commented, taking another bite of her apple, “Hey, what did Ingrid want?”

“Oh,” You looked over to Ingrid’s table where she was chatting and eating with a group of people, “She just asked me if I wanted to sit with her.”

Dina, who was sitting across from you, practically choked on her food as she laughed. Cat was also laughing to herself as she raised her eyebrows, and looked down at her food. Jesse had a small smile on his face as he took another chip from his bag and took a loud bite. The only person who wasn’t laughing was Ellie, who gave a brief glance at Ingrid’s table before looking back at you.

“Am I missing something?”

“No, it’s just,” Ellie started, taking a deep breath and wondering how much she wanted to explain, “be careful with her. She’s…”

“Friendly,” Dina finished Ellie’s sentence, a smirk on her face. Obviously, friendly didn’t mean friendly but you didn’t know what that meant.

“Do you like girls?” Cat asked bluntly.

“Cat,” Ellie warned again, making Cat drop what she was eating and roll her eyes.

“We need to know if we want to warn her,” She stated simply.

“Like romantically?” You asked, making everyone giggle again. You felt like you were missing a joke.

“Yeah, romantically,” Cat answered.

“Oh, yeah,” You looked around to see everyone’s reactions. You ignored the way Ellie’s cheeks tinged pink, “is that a… problem?”

“No,” Cat said flatly, her tone was cold again, “we all like girls.”

“Oh,” you said, taking out your sandwich from the ziplock bag and taking a bite.

“Let’s just say that Ingrid has been friendly with all of us,” Dina said, throwing a piece of popcorn at Jesse, “including Jesse.”

“At this point, initiation into this group should require hooking up with Ingrid,” Cat laughed.

“No,” Ellie said almost too fast, causing Cat to give her a confused look, “I can’t deal with another person getting convinced that Ingrid wants to be in a relationship with them. Plus, I can see into her room from mine. What if I look over and see Ingrid’s tits.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Cat said bitterly. There was that tension again.

“Well, I don’t really think I want to be involved with anyone anyways,” you mentioned, taking another bite.

“Why not?” Ellie questioned, eyes boring a hole into the side of your face.

“It’s just too complicated,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your water, “I’m new and it’s hard enough making friends, I don’t need anything messing that up.”

Ellie swallowed hard, and took another bite of her apple, just nodding at what you said like she understood.

“Well, now you have friends,” Dina spoke up, dissipating some of the tension. You took another bite, smiling with the food tucked into your cheeks.

As the day ended you went back to your locker to collect your stuff, expecting Ellie to be at hers, but she wasn’t there. You paid no mind to it as you opened your locker. However, inside sat a note, a yellow Post-It note that looked like it had been crumpled up a few times. On it, it read: “Couldn’t stop looking at you all day. Hope this isn’t weird, you’re just so beautiful. I hope I can get the courage to say it to your face. - your secret admirer”

Normally, this would have made you feel good about yourself. A random stranger thinks you are beautiful? Yea, that would boost anyone’s ego. Except this stranger knew your locker number and had admitted to watching you all day. A weird pit formed in the bottom of your stomach as you stuffed the note in your bag, knowing you would ruminate on it sometime later. Quickly, you packed up your stuff and made your way to the parking lot.

There, Ellie was leaning against her car, phone in hand. She was so focused on what she was typing that she didn’t even notice you walking up to her.

“Hey, ready to go?” You spoke, causing her to look up and smile at you.

“Yeah,” She shrugged, before pausing a moment, green eyes scanning your face, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You let out a nervous laugh as you shook your head.

“What? I’m fine.”

“You look weird.”

“Thank you?”

“Not like that,” she stopped you, putting her hands up, ”You just look upset but I don’t know you that well so I could be wrong.”

“You are wrong,” you grumbled, heading to the passenger side and hopping in the car. Ellie just scoffed, rolled her eyes, and got in the driver's seat.

“Well fuck me for caring then,” she mumbled to herself, starting the engine.

“It’s not-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath, “It’s just been a long day, I’m sorry if I was rude. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

She paused for a moment as if you had said something wrong, then she looked at you, green eyes scanning your face once more. She looked shocked, surprised almost. It was all so confusing.

“It’s fine, I’m just being an asshole,” She laughed, turning back to the road and putting the car in reverse, “My day was long too.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s,” She turned down the music so she could speak, “Cat.”

“Are you guys a thing?” You crossed your hands in your lap and absentmindedly played with your fingers.

“It’s complicated,” she sighed, heading out onto the open road, “Kind of, but it’s not really official.”

“Why?”

“I can’t commit.”

“Oh,” you looked over at her and watched her nose scrunch slightly like she was uncomfortable with the conversation, “I could sense the tension today.”

“She’s just…” Ellie made a weird movement with her head, “like that.”

“Why can’t you commit?”

“We’ve had our issues in the past,” Ellie shrugged, “at the end of the day I just can’t trust her and I can’t date someone I don’t trust.”

“You guys just seem so close,” you mentioned eyes drifting to the road again, the trees, and all the storefronts you had yet to explore.

“We are, and she’s a good friend,” Ellie coughed, “a little protective, but good. But romantically, I don’t really trust her. She swears she only wants me but I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Damn,” You laughed. Ellie looked over at you and laughed too. The air in the car was much lighter now.

“Yeah, I just don’t know how much of it I can do this year,” Ellie’s smile fell, as she approached her house, “but you didn’t ask all of that. I’m sorry I overshared.”

“Shut up, you didn’t overshare,” you laughed, unbuckling as Ellie pulled into her driveway, “and I did ask.”

“Well, thanks for listening, anyways,” Ellie smiled as she looked at her door and then back at you, “do you want to come in and do homework together? Joel’s not gonna be home till late.”

“I’d love that.”

ai audios:

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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wavyinterludee · 9 months

Text

mechanic!abby proposing ˚๑ˎ˚｡⋆

a/n: me 🤝 writing cooking as a love language

It was something she had been planning for months now. In honesty, Abby knew she was going to marry you very early on in the relationship but decided to be patient in fear of scaring you off. If only she knew how fast you knew you wanted to be with her forever.

She had racked her brain to the point of a headache; trying to think of the best place and way to pop the big question. She strongly considered taking you to a very nice restaurant, making a big occasion out of it, but ultimately decided to go with a homemade dinner with all your favorite food instead. She knew you'd appreciate the more intimate atmosphere as opposed to a big public spectacle. Plus, she wasn't made of money and had already spent a good amount on your ring.

Your ring; who knew such a small black box could cause such a disastrous amount of anxiety. She did her best to hide it from you, but every time she'd leave it somewhere, her mind would practically torture her with thoughts that you'd find it. So eventually, out of fear that you'd really find the ring, she decided to keep it on her most of the time.

The night of, you arrived at home earlier than usual, per your girlfriend's request. When you asked her what the occasion was, she simply told you that it was "a suprise."

The apartment smelled amazing, and the tension in your shoulders dissipated with every step you took closer to the kitchen. Abby truly was a sight for sore eyes; her broad back facing you with her long braid swinging with every movement she made as she stirred at the pot infront of her. The apron was tied tightly around her waist—in a knot you knew she was gonna ask you to help untie later.

Sensing your eyes on her, she turned around with a smile, causing a similar one to spread across your face. "Hi, sweetheart," she said softly, abandoning the pot to embrace you in a warm hug, pulling back far too soon for your liking. She placed a kiss on your cheek, her hands absent-mindedly rubbing along your arms. "I missed you," she said breathlessly. "You saw me this morning," you laughed, your arms wrapping around her waist. "Yeah, and a whole day has passed. It was torture," she said, squeezing lighty at your arms, before placing a few more stray kisses across your face. She only pulled away once she heard you laugh at her actions, content when she saw how flustered you were with her unabashed affection.

"I'm gonna go wash up then I'm helping you," you said softly, reluctantly pulling yourself from Abby's embrace and making your way to the bathroom. It was almost funny how Abby's heart clenched when you pulled away from her. She never knew you could miss someone a room away; her heart physically ached when she wasn't close to you.

In no time, dinner was ready with your help. Abby didn't consider herself some award winning cook, but she definitely knew her place around a kitchen. It was always a very pleasant (and delicious) suprise when she cooked for the two of you.

"What was the occasion, Abs? Did a forget an anniversary or something?" you joked, fork enthusiastically digging into your food. It was your favorite; as everything that she had prepared, from the dishes to the wine and even the suprise dessert. It warmed your heart that she knew you like the back of her hand by now.

"No occasion," she said, concentrating on cutting into her food to avoid eye contact. She knew that one look from you would be enough for you to see that she was lying. "Can't I just spoil my girlfriend?" she added. "You always spoil me, though," you said with a small pout. "I like spoiling you," she countered with a droopy smile that never seemed to leave her face when she was with you.

After dinner, Abby surprised you with dessert which you digged into gratefully. She had your hand in hers, softly rubbing over your knuckles as she listened to you talk about your day. She could listen to you for hours, your voice like her favorite song that she could never grow tired of. She'd gladly listen to it for the rest of her life; in the morning when it had a little rasp to it or when you got excited and it shrieked happily. Hell, she'd listen to you when you were angry and screaming at her, too.

For a small while, she had forgotten about the actual purpose of the dinner until she shuffled in her seat and felt the small box prodding at her through the pocket of her pants. The anxiety started to wash over her in waves once again because suddenly she was very unsure if this was even the right choice, if you even wanted to get married right now.

She hadn't even noticed the way her hand was nervously squeezing at yours by now. You definitely noticed, as well as the faraway look in her eyes, eyebrows pinched together in concentration, and lips pursed lightly.

"Hey," you said softly, giving her hand a small squeeze. When she finally looked at you, you gave her a smile. "You okay?" you asked. She gulped nervously before sitting up straighter in her chair. The hand that wasn't holding onto yours was nervously gripping at her thigh underneath the tablecloth. "I'm okay I just— I've been meaning to tell you something," she said softly.

You frowned at her nervous demeanor. Obviously, something was wrong. "You're kinda scaring me now," you joked with a light laugh, growing more and more concerned. She spared you a light laugh before clearing her throat. "No, nothing's, nothing's wrong. I just wanna tell you something, but you gotta let me finish, okay?" she said. You gave her a nod before she continued.

"Sweetheart, you are the most amazing woman I've ever had the privilege of meeting," she started. It felt like a ball forming in the pit of your stomach at her words; was she breaking up with you or something?

"You're so kind and funny. And so sweet to me," she continued. By now, you were the one squeezing at her hand nervously. "Abby..." you said softly. "Lemme finish," she said with a smile, and you scoffed playfully, allowing her to continue. "I love you. So so much. And I can't always give you everything you deserve, but I can try. I wanna try and give you everything you ever deserve because you deserve the world."

You were pretty sure you were crushing your poor girlfriend's hand by now. Once you loosened up, she pulled both her hands onto her lap before digging in her pocket and pulling out the small black box. God, you were practically sobbing by now. "If you let me, I'd like to try and give you the world, so," the small box was opened to reveal the ring; the prettiest pink quartz cut perfectly into a small heart, shining proudly underneath the crappy yellow light of your kitchen.

"Will you marry me, sweetheart?"

For a few agonizingly slow moments all you could do was stare at the small black box dumbly. You couldn't even see the ring by now, eyes blurred and weighted by unshed tears and cheeks already stained by those that have fallen. "Please say something," Abby whispered nervously. You nodded so quickly you almost got whiplash. "Yeah?" she asked breathlessly. "Yeah, yes. Yes!" She quickly took the ring, placing it on your ring finger with a toothy smile that matched yours, albeit a bit less teary that yours. Once it was on your finger you stood up from your chair. Abby did the same, and you jumped into her arms with such a force that she almost crashed into the nearby kitchen cupboards.

"I love you so much. I love you, Abby," you muttered into the crook of her neck. "I love you too, so much," she laughed. You pulled back from her neck, arms still wrapped around her neck as you took in her features. Your absolutely beautiful girlfriend, fiancée now and soon-to-be wife. You couldn't help yourself anymore, and kissed her with a passion that practically had her breathless by the time you were pulling away. It was a bit messy, filled with emotion but still so perfect. Everything with Abby always felt so perfect.

#abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #tlou fanfiction #wavyinterludee

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sneakyparsnipslicer · 4 months

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The Cult Of Knives

[Sorry it's been a while folks, hoping you've all been OK. This came to me in a lucid dream. I've captioned all the photos so you can imagine what each character looks like, enjoy!]

It's an age old mistake, you've seen it in movies no doubt. One thing you never, ever find yourself doing is going within five metres of an abandoned cabin in the woods.

It all began late one afternoon, I'd left my apartment to go for my daily jog. It was a standard part of my daily routine by now; finish work, jog around town, go home. Plain and simple. Work kept me on a little longer that day so it pushed my jog a little further ahead. It wasn't so bad when I started, but soon enough the sky began to darken. On the outskirts of town is a field that leads to a bridge, and near the other side of the bridge is a forest. I used to go camping with my friends back in my school years, but now at 27 I don't really hear from them anymore. They all went off to do their own thing.

Anyway, as I got to the forest, I was relieved. I'd forgotten to go for a piss whilst at home and at least in the forest I could piss in a secluded area. I jogged a little way in, found a bush and did my business. When I'd finished I looked around, remembering those good times with my friends. I decided to have a look around for old time's sake. It's funny how places like these can hold so many memories for certain people. Right there by the river, that's where we all sat blaring Panic! At The Disco in the dead of night, that's where Charlie and Jeanette had sneaked off to have a little… fun. We were barely of the legal age back then, so funny looking back at it now, thinking we were giving the middle finger to society. And of course there it stands, The Old Murder Cabin.

The guys used to tell stories about this cabin, full of bullshit of course, used to scare the girls. Stories of there being an axe murderer living there who cut people up to sell as meat on the market. I remember once me and Paul had dared to break in there one night. It was empty, so it's safe to say the stories fell a bit flat after that. Shane never did forgive us for ruining that for us all. Still, it was like time had stood still here, like I was 18 again.

It was beginning to get darker now and I was thinking about heading back home when I stopped in my tracks. For a moment I could've sworn I heard voices. As soon as I started to pay attention they stopped. Had I imagined it? I cautiously crept along the wall towards a window, holding my breath I peeked in. Inside was the long abandoned kitchen, nothing seemed to be inside. I heaved a sigh of relief and chuckled, just my imagination. Though looking back in again I did notice that the table and chairs had been organised. When Paul and I had gone in years ago it was all slumped against walls and the chairs were upturned. Maybe someone had been living in there at some point. I felt like I shouldn't investigate and decided it would be wise to head home, that's when a huge hand with a cloth swooped out of nowhere, covering my mouth and nose. An arm tightened around my chest and though I tried to break free, the chloroform made short work of me.

'Knew I could see someone down by the river, like a moth to the flame!' someone laughed.

'You reckon he'll do?' asked another. I felt a foot sharply kick me in the side of my stomach and that's where I woke up coughing and spluttering, gasping for air.

'Transpierce, Sabre, restrain him' ordered another voice. Next thing I knew two blurry figures were hoisting me onto a hard surface and were busy on either side of me, fastening belts around my wrists. As my vision began to return to me, I could see that I was tied to the kitchen table inside the cabin. On either side of me stood two burly, hairy and muscular men. The room was lit by candles so this whole premise felt very unsettling and dreary.

'What's going on?' I asked, looking around for answers.

'Looks like you picked a bad night to stumble into the woods kiddo!' said a voice ahead of me. There stood another man built quite similarly to the two either side of me. I couldn't help noticing they were all shirtless, showing off their pecs and abs.

'Sorry, I thought this place was abandoned, I didn't mean to interrupt you all' I said, looking between them. The one ahead of me shook his head and folded his arms.

'Well to be fair it was until about a month ago, that's where I stumbled upon this place' he explained.

'Ah, love what you've done with the place!' I said, laughing nervously. At which they all chuckled in unison.

'He seems rather sweet doesn't he lads?' he asked the other two, to which they both nodded.

'Oh definitely!' said the man on my right.

'A perfect match!' said the man on my left.

'Good, I think so too. Transpierce, go and get Mateusz would you?' the man at the front asked as he moved over to take over his post. The man to my left, Transpierce nodded and walked off to the other room.

'Transpierce, that's an unusual name' I said, looking nervously into the man's eyes, I could only assume he was their leader.

'He chose it himself, we all do. I'm Bayonet, and our friend over there is Sabre' said Bayonet, moving his hands to examine my shoulders.

'Bayonet, that's a kind of knife, right?' I asked him. Bayonet smiled and nodded.

'Intelligent too! I appreciate a man that knows his knives!' he grinned, looking deeply into my eyes. I was feeling really uncomfortable by this point. We seemed to be getting along, but why was I still restrained? He looked up and down my body and sighed.

'It's a pity, you'd have been welcome to join my little Cult as you are, but there are certain… requirements I must enforce' Bayonet said. He left my side and walked over to the doorway that Transpierce had left through.

'Transpierce? Mateuz? What's taking you two so long?' Bayonet demanded.

'Just a moment Boss, he's almost ready!' called Transpierce from the other room.

'Good!' announced Bayonet, satisfied. He turned back to look at me.

'It's always a special occasion when we acquire a new Suit'.

What did he mean, suit? I was in my t-shirt and shorts, and they sure weren't wearing any suits. Bayonet turned his attention to a wooden chest in the corner of the room and pulled out a satchel containing various tools. As he searched the satchel, Transpierce returned to the room accompanied by a skinny-looking guy, either he was drenched in water or covered in some sort of gel that glistened in the candle light. I had to assume this was Mateusz.

'Alright then Matty, this is your moment. Your induction. In your own time' said Bayonet, turning around, holding a syringe and a bottle of glowing green liquid. Mateusz nodded hesitantly and made his way over to me. Our eyes locked and we regarded eachother for a moment. Not gonna lie, he was pretty cute, though he wasn't built and muscular like the other guys. He placed a greasy palm on my left leg and I shuddered. It was cold and strangely felt like a cut to the skin. He moved his hand slowly up my leg to my groin and the others stood back and watched.

Mateusz licked his lips and placed one hand on the table, hoisting himself on top of it, standing above me looking down, he gently lowered himself to sit on my crotch. I'm not usually into twinks but this guy was doing it for me somehow. He moved both of his hands along my arms to my restrained hands and filled them with his own, locking fingers with me. He moved to lay down on top of me and began to kiss me. This guy was good, tonguing my mouth and exploring, I could feel his hardening shaft grinding into me. He pulled away and I moaned. Whatever this guy wanted to do to me, I was his. He sat back up and began to pull his boxers off, letting his erect dick spring free. It had to be 7 inches long. I licked my lips, was I about to get to taste it? He moved to sit on my chest and he cupped my jaw in his hands, staring silently again. Then he moved to position his dick into my mouth and began to face fuck me. I so wished I could hold his body but my hands were restrained. As if they could read my mind, Sabre and Transpierce approached and undid the belt buckles, allowing me to put my hands on his bubble butt. I wanted all of that inside me. Mateusz continued to fuck, panting and groaning, eventually he came in my mouth and I swallowed his thick, creamy load. He pulled himself off me. I gasped for air as I laid down on the table, unable to take my eyes off Mateusz. Him unable to take his eyes off me, he caught his breath and began to smile, chuckling.

Assuming it was my turn to repay him the favour, I moved to pull my t-shirt off, but he stopped me, shaking his head.

'I'm not done yet, that was foreplay!' he said winking. I looked at him bewildered, face fucking was foreplay to him?!

It was at this point Bayonet approached with his syringe and injected the green, glowing substance into Mateusz's arm. It took a moment, but his skin began to glow green and the gel he seemed to have been coated in made him appear to turn rubbery. It was like he was now a hot, humanoid version of Flubber.

'Oh we're going to enjoy this!' Mateusz said, glowing before me. He squeaked and squelched as he moved and returned to sit atop me. He kissed me again, but this time his lips got sucked in, then his head began to get sucked into my mouth, squeaking as it went. I placed my hands on his shoulders and they ran down his slick body as it gradually began to suction into my own. As his torso, ass, dick, arms, legs and feet began to slide into me, my stomach began to balloon out and glow green under my clothes. The other men whooped and cheered. Underneath my skin, I could feel Mateusz repositioning himself, arms into the correct places, legs where they should be. My own skin was beginning to balloon out too, as muscle began to build, my clothes began to rip to shreds. I began to grow pecs and abs just like the other guys, my hands belonged to Mateusz now and he moved them below what remained of my boxers and began to pump our expanded dick. Both of us moaning in unison. I could feel my load getting ready to shoot and that's the last thing I can remember.

Mateusz groaned in pleasure as cum shot out from his new dick, two thick strings and then excess green liquid spewed out. He looked to the ceiling, sweat glistening on his new chiseled body. His friends surrounded him and smiled proudly at him, they'd been masturbating as they watched his merging with the captive jogger and moaned as they emptied their loads over him, christening him a new man, rubbing it all into his skin. Panting, Bayonet helped him to his feet and kissed him.

'Speak your new name, Brother!' he cried. Mateusz thought for a moment.

'Call me Machete!' he decided. Transpierce, Sabre and Bayonet looked between eachother and nodded approvingly.

'Very well! From this night forth you are complete, you are our beautiful Brother Machete!' said Bayonet proudly, hugging him tightly. Now they had four complete members to their ranks, in time their ranks would grow and the Cult of Knives would amass many more followers, but for now it was time they all got some action from Machete!

#merging #male tf #male transformation #gay #bodysuit

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faithshouseofchaos · 8 months

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Drunken waffles— Kimi Raikkonen x reader

Tagged— @80sloverry @norrisleclercf1 @norizznorris @moss-is-a-tasty-snack @lollypop90907 @wolfsbanesbite @ladymarvel27 @charlesf1leclerc @darleneslane

I wrote this last night after drinking a bunch with my friend for her 21st birthday party so it’s cute funny/cringey 🤷‍♀️

Drunken waffles— Kimi Raikkonen x reader

It was your friend's bachelorette party. You all decided to go to a bar to celebrate.. You were passed around from friend to friend wearing your leash backpack because you were known to be a really friendly drunk who turned reckless which was a complete 180 from your regular calm and quiet demeanor. Your friend walked you to the bar to get a refill on drinks when you saw a man with blonde hair and blue eyes that almost looked white.

“What’s wrong with you?” You slurred out.

“I’m hungry” he said

“Hi I’m hungry I’m y/n” you giggled holding out your hand for the man to shake.

“Kimi and I am really hungry but there’s nothing open,” he complained.

“You're not from here are you?” You asked

“No I’m not why”

“Because I know the perfect place to go that’s always open but I’m kinda tied up to my friend and I can’t go anywhere at the moment” you told him showing him the backpack that made him smile.

“Hold on” Kimi says, reaching over the bar grabbing the knife that the bartender was using to cut limes up with earlier. Kimi cut the rope that was attached to the backpack putting the knife back, both too drunk to realize that you could have unclipped it.

You and Kimi walked out of the bar getting into your Uber.

“Where too?”

“The good Waffle House please”

“Alright then”

“Waffle House?” Kimi asked

“Yes trust me it has everything food and entertainment and drama just trust me”

On the way to Waffle House you and Kimi talked about why you needed to wear the backpack.

“It’s because I get too friendly with people and I turn into a reckless drunk which is a completely 180 from my normal personality”

“What makes you so friendly?”

“I got into a car with a random man I never met before and I hit on everything that walks”

“Oh”

A few minutes go by before the driver pulls up to your destination getting out of the car you paid the driver. Walking in front of your new friend.

“Well this is it” you said holding your arms out in front of you showing Kimi the not so fine establishment.

“Just be careful of things being thrown around last time I got hit in the head with a shoe. Also be mindful of where you walk the floor will either be sticky or wet no in between” kimi shook his head and shrugged his shoulders not really caring.

“I don’t care I just want food” he said

“Alright perfect you’ll fit right in”

The two of you sat down and waited for someone to come take your order. You knew what you wanted. It was the same thing every time.

As the two of you were eating, a fight broke out between a couple customers. You weren’t bothered by it as this was something you were used to, but Kimi on the other hand was laughing and enjoying the entertainment with his food. Not long after the fight broke out the cops came which made you and kimi bolt out the back door there was no reason other than paranoia.

Back at the bar your friends noticed that you were gone, instant panic mode set in before they all set off looking for you. It wasn’t just your friends that noticed you were missing Kimis friends noticed that he too was missing.

“Hi sorry to bother you but have you seen my friend he’s about yay high blonde hair and a pout on his face”

“No but my friend is missing too we can’t find her”

Your friend and Kimi's friend looked at each other skeptically. “No there’s no way their together” “yeah there’s no way unless your friend also gets really friendly when their drunk” “she does”

Back to you and kimi…

The next morning you woke up in a different hotel room. You were hanging off the side of the bed still dressed in your clothes and shoes, a piece of bacon hanging out of your mouth. Sitting up as best as you could you find a strange blonde man hugging your legs in a deep sleep.

“Hey let go of my legs I need to use the bathroom” you say trying to sling your legs free in the process of accidentally kicking the man off the bed. Finally free you booked it to the bathroom to relieve your bladder. Walking back into the bedroom you looked at the man who was pouting on the floor holding an empty bottle of alcohol upside down.

“Who are you?” you asked.

“Kimi, who are you?”

“I’m y/n”

“Ok”

“Wanna go get drinks?”

“Sure,” Kimi said, getting off the floor. Not caring that your friends were still probably worried sick you new that they’d find you eventually they always did.

This is what I was talking about but bigger and for overly friendly drunk girls you know who you are 👀 (it’s me)…

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the-faceless-bride · 1 year

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It's was 'just a prank' pt.3

<- Part 2

A/n: I just had a cool idea as to how I can use the Poll options so you guys can help sway the story so it kinda feels like you're playing the game. 🙂🙃🙂 let me know if you guys like it, if not I won't use it in future chapters

Emily and Matt had left after Emily blamed Matt for losing an expensive bag of hers and she dragged him along with her to go find it, Sam had decided to take a bath after being in the freezing cold.

Josh had sent Chris and Ashley off together to find a spirit board he had laying around somewhere, while Everyone was gone you and josh had a soft silent conversation. Filling time waiting for the others to get back, that's when your conversation was interrupted.

"Alright, Josh! Let's see if you know how to hook up the hot water in your big ol' fancy lodge!" Sam teased as she made her way from the bathroom to you and Josh.

"oh yeah, it's just down in the basement. Y'gotta fire up the boiler," he said as if she knew how to do that, after a moment he realized that she couldn't possibly know how to do that and jumped up saying he'd help, Sam turns to leave to the basement and Josh turns to you, "wait for Chris and Ash Babe, don't start without me." you smile at him and nod your head as he gives you a twink, turning on his heel and following after Sam to help her.

You sat in silence looking around the lodge as you think about the long night ahead of you, your thoughts interrupted by Ashley making her way towards you and sitting on the couch awkwardly, "so..." she started before she was cut off, you both heard a scream.

What was going on?

You rushed to the basement door and pulled it open, but nobody moved. Then Chris pulled down a dark cloak from his head and said "mhm you just got munked!"

Sam didn't find this funny, She yelled at Chris for his low-blow prank before turning to Josh and accusing him of being in on it.

You slightly huffed, Josh didn't do low-blow pranks. His panks were always more intricate and complex than a simple chase in dress-up.

You all made your way to the living room, Josh teasing about how Sam, "totally pissed herself," and Sam huffing in annoyance.

Sam "had enough spooks for one night" and left to finally take that hot bath, while you, Josh, Chris, and Ash set up to use the spirit board.

You and Ash both took turns asking questions and things took a turn quickly...

"S-i-s-t-e-r --"

"Sister..."

"no! No no no we didn't kill them it was just a Prank! We didn't mean-"

"you know what... This isn't real."

"no Josh you said! You said you wanted to use the spirit board!"

"yeah well, m'not sure if you think-- messing! With me is gonna somehow help me deal with my grief but I don't need this right now."

Josh stood from his seat and began to walk away, you followed behind him.

"No, Josh C'mon-"

"no! You guys are full of it!"

And with that, you and Josh made your way down the lodge stairs.

You both stood there holding each other for a moment before Josh said he needed to do something and left you alone.

You wandered back with the two you last spoke to, they seemed to be freaking out about a photo they had found and decided to look for Josh.

"Josh was just with me," you explain

"If you go now we'll catch up to him."

Only you didn't find Josh, you all found ghosts, set up doll houses, and a passed out Sam tied in a chair, and finally you all found a man in a mask.

Chris was the first one to be put under, Ashly panicking tried to stab the killer with scissors she found you gasped as the masked man cursed under his breath, "live and learn!" and with one hit knocked Ashley out cold, and then he slowly turned to you...

You opened your eyes to a gruesome sight, Chris on the verge of tears as he looks back and forth between his long-time crush and best friend.

A distorted voice demanding that Chris make a choice before you put any input Chris pulled the lever,

"No! Chris! I thought we were friends!" Josh calls as Ashley screams and turns away,

"ahh, I see. You have chosen to save Ashley."

You rival Ashley with a Bloodcurdling scream as you watch Joshes body get torn in half, "NO! CHRIS WHY?!" you cry out as the gate opens and Chris rushes to Ashley telling her it's okay and to not look,

"why! Can't I look Chris? tell me he's okay, pleaseeeesss-" she whines out in fear, looking at Joshes hanging body as she lets out a frightened scream and falls into Chris, you cry as you hold onto Joshes cold hand.

"I'm... I'm so sorry..." Chris whimpers you shake your head, "I would've picked Josh if it were me, I would've done the same as you, Chris..."

Just as you all ran out of that shed you were all in you ran into Emily and Matt.

Chris cried out to them about what he had done. What you all had to see.

Matt was the most freaked out and Emily seemed to think it was some prank at first until she saw how scared you all really were.

You all made a plan to split up, Chris and Ashley go back to the lodge and see what they can find and be safe. While Matt and Emily look for the radio in the old tower.

"alright we have a plan, And Y/n?"

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amazingmsme · 8 months

Text

Such A Squealer

AN: Somehow managed to whip this up lickety split before I start on my homework. This was a really cute prompt, & lumax holds a special place in my heart. Hope y'all enjoy day 11!

Max considerer herself to be a good girlfriend, no, a great girlfriend. She shared the same interests with Lucas, she was funny, supportive, and even though she was hesitant to think so, she knew that some people would say she's pretty. (Her mom insisted on it, at least.) And to top it off, she was currently giving him a massage without even being asked.

"Okay, but it better not be some kinda trick," he teased, laying down on the bed. He rested his chin on his hands and shifted until he was comfortable. She straddled his waist and began working her palms over tense shoulders. He'd been complaining about being sore after practice, so this was the least she could do.

Her hands traveled the expanse of his back, over the rolling hills of his shoulders and the valley of his lower spine. She carried on for a few minutes before slipping her hands under his shirt to glide over bare skin. He let out pleased grunts and hums as she released the tight knots in his back, allowing his troubles to melt away.

And then her hands traveled too far down, veering off to the side and she happened to squeeze his hips. Lucas jolted as if he'd been electrocuted, and squealed. He clapped a hand to his mouth just as a grin tried to overtake his features. He'd been too late to muffle the sound, and Max's interest was piqued.

"Oh? What was that?" she asked, doing it again. Lucas jolted, arms pressing down against his sides.

"N-nothing," he said, voice at least two octaves higher. Max looked at the back of his head with skepticism and grinned.

"Mm, that didn't sound like nothing," she mused, idly drawing circles with her thumbs over his hipbones. He snorted, burying his face in a nearby pillow to muffle his laughter.

Max couldn't have that. She loved the way his laugh sounded. He didn't hold back, and it just sounded so bright it could light up a room. It was the sound of pure, unbridled joy- his joy. And she was the only making him happy. She decided she deserved to hear it and yanked the pillow away, tossing it aside.

He yelped when his shield was stolen before falling into endless giggles as Max kneaded his hips.

"Nohoho, plehehease!" he begged, curling up on his side. Max persisted and used his new position to roll him on his back. He was breathless, hair tussled and he had the biggest smile of his face she's ever seen.

"Is there a reason you've been hiding this tickle spot from me?" she asked, hands formed into claws and poised to strike. He giggled nervously and looked away.

"Ihi wasn't hiding it! You just didn't find it!" he defended himself. She arched a brow.

"You could've told me," she cooed. Lucas snorted.

"Yeah right. You just would've tortured me sooner!" he justified, unable to tear his eyes away from her hands.

"Guess I'll have to make up for lost time then," she said smugly and shrugged. His eyes widened and he tried to grab her hands and push them away, but she was too quick. Rapid squeezes to the hips assaulted his nerves and sent tiny shocks of electricity through his body. He shrieked, head thrown back against the mattress, mouth hanging open as cackles escaped. Max was glad her mom wasn't home, surely she'd think they were being killed. Now that she thought about it, maybe some of the neighbors did. Oh well, she'll be happy to explain the misunderstanding if any cops were to arrive. Hopper would certainly find it funny.

Lucas was thrashing around on the bed, laughing freely and most notably, not trying to stop her. Max grinned to herself, taking a deep breath before diving down. She blew a raspberry as hard as she could on his hipbone, and another loud squeal cut through the air. She kept going until she was smiling so wide, she couldn't get a good seal on his skin. She rose back up, so breathless and happy you'd think she was the one being tickled.

"Dude, you are such a squealer!" she teased, squeezing his hips so he couldn't protest, though he still tried.

"Ihihi aham nohohot!" he insisted through persistent giggles.

"Wanna bet?" she asked playfully, wiggling her brows at him before taking a large breath. Lucas shook his head, eyes wide and an overwhelming smile in place.

"Nonono wahahait!" She didn't wait, instead blowing another raspberry on his other hip. Needless to say, Max proved her point.

#tickletober #tickletober 2023 #tickletober day 11 #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things tickle fic #ticklish!lucas

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oddlittlestories · 3 months

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Requisite Kung Fu Panda Post

Yes, I am going to see Kung Fu Panda this weekend, and I've decided to rewatch the series to prepare. Since this is the "digging deep in analyzing movies" site I'm going to talk way too much about it.

Specifically, I'm going to focus on the truly exceptional storytelling of Kung Fu Panda 1, how each subsequent movie feels like yet another installment of Po's story, and how while the first movie is the best, part of the power of the first movie is the ways in which the subsequent movies lift it up.

I like this series way too much y'all. I have not only seen each movie many times, I have also seen all of the bonus content movie shorts set in the same universe multiple times (the one that covers the backstories of the Furious Five is particularly good imo).

Spoilers ahead. Analysis below the cut.

Okay, first off, I forgot how emotional the first movie is.

There are so many tiny gut punches, but there are also so many funny and 'emotionally high' moments. I think what it comes down to is the first movie knows how to make relatable stakes that hold gravitas.

Here's what I mean by that. We start out with a dream sequence, right? and it's really cool. And then Po wakes up, and tries really hard not to disappoint his dad even though he obviously doesn't quite fit the life he lives (evidenced by his ongoing desire for something else, the way he feels like he's limiting himself to 'realistic expectations,' and how he doesn't quite fit between the tables and struggles to serve the customers).

So instantaneously, and I think this is like in the first ten minutes, we get the following stakes:

not disappoint his dad

enjoy what he loves whenever possible

It's a small life, but man. First of all, I find his problems extremely relatable (trying to keep his dreams 'realistic;' trying to make his dad proud and happy). But they're also resonant, because we get what they mean to Po.

So when we hit the first real goal—watch the Furious Five compete to find the Dragon Warrior—we know just how much it means to Po.

And the obstacles that get placed on him (the noodle cart) are both funny and thematically relevant. He is literally tied down by his noodle life, and his dedication to his dad. He cannot make it to Kung Fu unless he is willing to let go of the noodle cart. To admit to his father what he really loves and wants out of life.

And BAM, it is actually the minute that he admits to his dad (after a poignant and sad-but-funny near-miss) "I love Kung Fu!" that he finally is able to access the Jade Courtyard. (This is also an important moment because, well, him admitting what he wants to his dad. It's important. He's honest, and we get to see his dad's reaction—sympathy and kindness. His dad still only knows noodles. That's all he can offer Po. But he loves Po no matter what.) Also Po whamming into a wall and then fireworking over the wall is really funny. His poor dad, the way he just DOES NOT know what to do.

And poor Po, he does not get to see ANY of the kung fu. First task, 100% failed. Plus, he earns the ire of his heroes and general humiliation. This is one of the few moments where a character gets humiliated that I completely love. Secondhand embarrassment is like poison to me, and I often feel bad about humiliation. But Po's humiliation is funny and then, to me, warm.

I think it's because of the narrative framing. We know, because he is the main character, that Po is the Dragon Warrior. The Furious Five and Shifu are known as good and righteous people, and the way in which they defend each other from this stranger—they are deeply unkind to him but also kind to each other. I can sympathize with why they want Po gone. And then we have Oogway, who seems to hold wisdom and knowledge beyond what he says.

(And an aside about Oogway. The second and third movies give this even more oomph, because there's this person, right, who falls in front of his eyes. But he's also from a group of people thought to be all gone, who are known masters of chi. The weight of destiny in that!! And it makes sense for Oogway to say nothing, right? Because they'll internalize it only if they get to learn from themselves, and you can't argue with someone who won't argue with you.)

So, then, Shifu and the Furious Five conspire to get Po to quit. This is Po's next obstacle. (And, look, the way all the characters but especially Shifu and Tigress get arcs that parallel Po's never fails to impress me.)

And instead of a pure win / lose condition, we get to know that Po is highly tenacious (implied by him trying to get the noodle cart up the stairs), and that he carries a lot of shame.

But when we really get to know about his shame, when he tells Shifu, if anyone could make me not me, it would be you. Man, that's heartbreaking. And it made sense why he stayed before this—but it adds gutwrenching layers of depth to it.

Also Tigress's story breaks my heart every time. "More than he loved anyone before… or since." The way her voice breaks. Her little baby face. And although it's heavily implied in the movie that she too needed Shifu on a deeper level than just teacher, the backstory minisode adds SO MUCH depth. Because she's a little girl whose strength makes her difficult to handle and who, after abandonment, has rage which makes her terrifying. And Shifu shows up, and brings her to a place where those can be assets, not weaknesses. He adopts her, just like he adopted Tai Lung.

But he still doesn't give her all the love she needs.

I think she's my favorite character. And I like that Shifu, though a fair and caring mentor, is also not perfect by any means.

So Shifu confronts Oogway about Po, and gets a lesson in control. Shifu is so interesting here because, one, he's not controlling himself nearly as tightly as he does with the five. He is audibly frustrated and angry. He's making himself vulnerable with his master. And though he is careful not to disrespect him, he does argue with him. The way he argues that he can control when the peaches fall, and then one hits him on the head—hilarious.

And this whole scene makes Oogway's death emotionally impactful, because it's so clear that Shifu still has a lot to learn and still feels like he needs his master.

And just to wrap it all around full circle. "There IS no secret ingredient." Po's experience of social affirmation and self-love and feeling he is enough is what brings out his full potential and allows him to fulfill his destiny. And Tai Lung's tragedy is, that despite being loved, his ego tells him that only external things can ever bring power. The fact that he cannot see what Po can—that there is no secret ingredient—is his downfall in life. Which makes him a perfect foil for Po AND a perfect narrative vehicle in a story that is all about love, acceptance, celebrating our differences, and community. And none of these things would ring true if there wasn't a lack of acceptance to overcome at the start.

#kung fu panda #tai lung #kfp #kung fu panda po #kung fu panda meta #kfp meta #kung fu panda shifu #master shifu #kfp shifu #kfp tigress #master tigress #master oogway

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gay-jesus-probably · 1 year

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you also have to consider that i don't think Zelda had a lot of high thoughts about herself because of everything her father told to her, it's pretty clear she thinks of herself a failure not fit to save anyone or even be a royal in botw especially the closer to the calamity we got in the memories. if they just had her and link go around hyrule helping people (which is what I assume they did) in the timeskip they should attribute people liking her so much to her being helpful and literally fending the calamity off for 100 years instead of being royalty, which they could have done easily because it's pretty obvious she did go around hyrule to help (the school is a pretty good example)! it would make zeldadorf going around being malicious way cooler as link has to clear her name around Hyrule

Yeah, Zelda's helpful and all the level of obsession the NPC's in the world have with Zelda doesn't at all match up with all the (fairly basic) nice things she's done, and ESPECIALLY doesn't work with how everyone is totally cool with Fake Zelda raising hell. Ensuring that one village has an elementary school should not generate enough goodwill to let people forgive brainwashing and attempted murder. Not to mention the long list of Good Deeds she apparently has time for is just... bizarre, and a sign that she's actually a pretty crappy leader considering she has zero time management skills. Like lady, you're rebuilding a fucking kingdom after a century long apocalypse, I really don't think you should be spending your time teaching people how to cook random recipes and helping to plant flower gardens. And the random carved little monuments for everyone who died in the Calamity also strike me as just... no. You can commission the fancy monuments later, everyone fucking knows it happened right now. Hell, why don't any of the villages have memorials for the Calamity victims, they're the ones that actually had to deal with the immediate aftermath. Having Zelda place generic memorials everywhere just makes me wonder why the hell there aren't any old memorials made by survivors in the immediate aftermath, in the places where people actually live and can visit them.

Also while I know all of the memorials having a respawning silent princess flower on them is just the game continuing to be wildly unsubtle about "look this flower represents zelda DO YOU GET IT GUYS", from an in-universe perspective it's absolutely hilarious. Those flowers are extremely endangered, and not even the best pre-calamity conservation efforts were enough to help. They're STILL very fucking endangered, and were believed to be extinct! They canonically cannot cultivate this plant, it's very rare and only grows in the wild... which is why they're picking these extremely rare flowers to use as decoration on a memorial. And now you can't find them growing in any of the spots they used to florish in, except the Lost Woods. They're not even tied to the fairy fountains, because there's none of them growing around the new fountain locations. I like to think that Zelda decided to make all the stupid memorials and have a silent princess flower left on each one, and so her loyal followers have been replacing all the cut flowers every time they wither, and as result the silent princess flower is on the verge of extinction again. I know it's not what the game was trying to say, but it's the logical conclusion to make - people have been picking this very endangered plant all over the country, and now you can't find it anymore. And also it's a really funny mental image that Zelda was so concerned about their conservation back in BOTW that she spent a whole memory talking about it, but now she's having them picked en-masse to make sure her vanity project has the correct aesthetic. I hate Zelda in TOTK for many reasons, but her new habit of intentionally killing an endangered plant is easily the funniest problem the writing accidentally gave her.

Anyways as for her mental state before the Calamity, I do see that as being very complicated. She's got a lot of Issues, mainly stemming from her family, religion, stress and powers. No need to go over all that though, as I think everyone has long since analyzed that to hell and back. BUT at the same time, while her personal life is fucking miserable, we can't ignore that she's still literally the crown princess of an extremely powerful nation, and has spent her entire life being told that she is fundamentally a better person than everyone else. She was being emotionally abused by her father, but that does not change the fact that she's incredibly privileged, and doesn't seem particularly aware of that fact. I mean fuck, the BOTW memories show Zelda had a habit of actively trying to lose her bodyguard and run off alone into the wilderness on a whim. And when said bodyguard caught up with her (with zero judgement or displeasure), her only reaction was to emotionally abuse him. She genuinely did not seem to understand or care that it's a universally bad idea to let an unarmed teenager run off alone into the monster infested wilderness, with nobody knowing where she's going or when she'll be back. And that's without taking into account people actively trying to kill her.

All of that behaviour right there is just a combination of teenage dumbassery and Zelda being extremely privileged. She lives in a world without any serious consequences, why would she need to learn self preservation? And her abusing Link was a hell of a lot more serious than the fandom likes to see it as. Being a knight is literally his lifes work, he's been training since he was a small child, he has no idea how to support himself in any other way. And he answers directly to the reigning monarch, which is currently King Rhoam... but in the very near future would be Zelda. If he doesn't follow Rhoam's orders to be Zelda's bodyguard, he's fired and his life is ruined. If he does follow his orders, he's angering Zelda, and then in the future she'll probably retaliate by firing him, and his life will be ruined. I absolutely hate that most of the fandom has decided Link was reacting to the verbal abuse with just "wow she's so smart and pretty, what a girlboss", because that's completely insane (and in the context of shipping, wildly unhealthy for Link). I see Link silently tolerating Zelda's harassment as just him desperately trying to minimize how much she hates him, because she can absolutely destroy his life on a whim, and her actions all suggested she will absolutely do so. Princess Zelda does not want Link to ever exist in her presence; why the fuck would she want to keep him employed after she becomes Queen?

...To be clear, I think all of this is a good thing. I mean, Zelda being a privileged little shit and coping with stress by abusing her personal servant are very negative traits for her as a person, but as a character I really like it! These are very serious flaws, but they're understandable - she's not a total bitch because she's pure evil, she acts like a bitch because she's a stressed teenager lashing out at the easiest target, and she genuinely does not realize how harmful her actions are. I liked that the game wasn't afraid to show us an uglier side of Zelda, and trusted the audience to understand that she was more than just her worst impulses. I think the closest we've ever gotten to that was Skyward Sword Zelda admitting that she pretended to be in grave danger to manipulate Link into doing her dirty work, and he should not be okay with that... but that wasn't quite as nuanced, because that was more Zelda literally being a god in mortal form, and doing something morally sketchy for the Greater Good. BOTW Zelda is just a person that hurt someone because it was an easy way to make herself feel better. It gives her a depth that very few Zelda's have been allowed to have.

And it really bothers me that apparently all of that is just gone in TOTK. Zelda, who is inexplicably still a princess for some reason, is the unquestioned almighty ruler of Hyrule. The Zora King and Gerudo Chief both swear eternal subversience to her in the ending, and Zelda happily accepts their submission as just what she is rightfully owed. When she's in the past she feels completely entitled to declare that Link will finish the battle for them, even though the last time she saw him he'd lost his entire fucking arm and was falling to his death, and also the entire situation is very political, and she has no idea which side Link would interpret as being correct. For fucks sake, she stole his goddamn house, made extensive renovations, added a large second room for herself, and still did not allow him to have any space in there. They're not sharing that bed, shippers. Link just does not live there anymore. That's why one of the TOTK sidequests is... Link getting a house again, on the other side of the country from where Zelda is living. The game repeatedly tells me that Zelda is actually the single bestest person who ever lived, but she never shows any real consideration for the wellbeing of someone who isn't Rauru, Sonia or Mineru... apart from the opening where she expresses concern that Link was seriously wounded by slapping three keese with his sword and killing them instantly. Which is more condescending than anything else.

And as I think I've mentioned before, all the apparently great and noble deeds Zelda performs are done with the overall goal of ensuring the Kingdom of Hyrule continues to exist under the control of the royal family. She's the current reigning monarch, so literally all of this is for her own benefit. There's nothing wrong with doing good things that also benefit you, of course, but once again the game constantly insisting that Zelda is a perfect selfless martyr... doesn't really track with the fact that she's the only one with a real motive to want Hyrule to remain under her rule. Everyone else has been getting by just fine without her for the last century, and Zelda going missing at the start of a crisis doesn't really cause any issues with leadership; things keep running smoothly, the only issues that ever show up is from Zelda not being there to do specific tasks she said she would do, like help plant a flower garden. Idk, it just leaves a really bad taste in my mouth; there's absolutely no reason for Hyrule to be a monarchy post-calamity, and the fact that everyone is so fanatically loyal to Zelda makes me feel like she's actively working to keep herself on the throne because she wants the power. If her first priority was being a good leader, people wouldn't be scared to question her.

But I'm with you on the Puppet Zelda plotline being wasted, it's like the whole thing was just there bcause the devs realized the main story quest (regional phenomenon) had nothing to do with the supposed main quest (find zelda), and just threw in a fake zelda to chase so the players would feel like they were making progress on that, but couldn't be bothered to make the fake zelda subplot have any consequences. That or they were just cowards with no faith in the audience, and figured if the fake Zelda's actions made NPC's express fear and hatred for the real one, the player would also be convinced that the real Zelda was bad. Which is ironic, considering the NPC's refusing to express any negative thoughts about the fake Zelda is a massive red flag about what the real one is like, and has convinced a lot of the audience not to like her.

#tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom spoilers #also for the record i was kinda meh on zeldas memory arc in BOTW #just because i felt they glossed over the whole 'zelda hating link' bit waaay too quickly #and i didnt like that link's entire personality was apparently just him going :| while other people talked #just say the memories are about meeting zelda. dont pretend you're giving link any development here #but compared to TOTK i now love BOTW zelda. she's complicated and interesting and i want to see more of her #totk zelda is about as interesting as the rock she eats #also anon im pretty sure this is just one part in a series of asks you sent #and i have read them all and will try to answer other parts if/when i can #as previously mentioned theres a month old puppy eating a lot of my time

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butterflydm · 1 year

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origins of the wheel of time

I was originally planning on reading Origins of The Wheel of Time after my reread of the last three books, but it has arrived and also is so much shorter, so I’m going to read it first instead, lol. It’s not a narrative, but I’m intrigued to find out what it has to say about the series. I’m not entirely sure if it’s written more like a sourcebook or whatnot.

My thoughts contain spoilers through a memory of light

1. Okay, looks like it’s broken into four sections -- first will be a bit of a biography of Jordan, then there’s specifically a whole section about how Tolkien inspired him, then his writing process perhaps (the summary on the inside of the book cover notes that there’s a previously unseen early draft of a cut scene from Eye of the World, so maybe that’s there; and then one about “the real world” comparisons (mythology-related maybe; I know that there’s a lot of mythological connections tied into the imagery, especially with Rand, Mat, & Perrin).

2. The full world map that we get (it says it was adjusted based on things that Jordan had said about the maps that had previously been made) shows how the Westlands/Randland is actually the smallest section of the map -- Shara is bigger, the Mad Lands are bigger, and Seanchan is enormous. lol, yeah, Tuon ain’t gonna be ruling all of that. I don’t care how great a general Mat is. Both of them are gonna die long before that area gets back under her iron grip (especially if she really does manage to keep herself from channeling - man, it would be so funny if she actually does get around to channeling one day but is only as strong as Morgase, literally the weakest channeler possible. I feel like Jordan wouldn’t have been able to resist making her Nynaeve-level strong, because of how much he was contorting and manipulating the story to appease her in the narrative, but her being super-weak would be so much funnier). Nation building is not easy and it’s gonna take time for her to even get over there since she will need to finish ‘settling’ the Seanchan-ruled Westlands first (and she’ll have to worry about Westlands-based rebellions as soon as she leaves for Seanchan proper too - the original plan that the Empress had seemed to be that her daughter would rule over the ~new land~ in her name while she kept a tight grip on the homeland, but now the rest of Tuon’s family is dead, so it’s more likely that she’s gonna have to pick if she wants the Westlands or if she wants Seanchan, because she has no one she can trust to rule either of them in her absence). I wonder if Jordan was planning to handwave her to be the ruler of the disputed lands quickly so that he could tell another story about... Mat being miserable and Perrin needing to kill someone? Or if he was going to take into account how likely it would be that Tuon would NOT be able to actually regain control of the majority of the continent. I mean, since he only left two sentences behind about the outriggers, he probably hadn’t even decided yet.

3. Oh, gosh, the author of this book teaches at The Citadel, where Jordan went to school after he left the military. The Citadel had a pretty heavy hazing/bullying culture, at least back when Jordan attended (from what I’ve read) and some Weird Ideas about men and women, and definitely some “beating students is good for the learning process” vibes. A lot of the odd quirks in Jordan’s worldbuilding seemed to be based in him assuming that his culture’s particular practices and his own personal kinks were just ~human nature~, including some of the stuff that seemed to be essentially ‘taught’ behind-the-scenes at the Citadel. Oh, and this author (who teaches Military History specifically, it sounds like?) was consulted about the writing of The Last Battle in the final book. This book was also written at the same desk where Jordan wrote Wheel of Time. That’s actually quite interesting to me, and I wonder if that contributes to... when Jordan wrote about war, it was very personal, because he’d been in war. But if your main consultant is someone approaching it from an academic PoV rather than a ‘in the trenches’ PoV, that definitely lends a different angle onto the way the battles are written about.

4. Ah, WoT was a formative book series for the author -- he read EotW when he was fifteen. So he is quite a bit younger than Jordan. He even interviewed at the Citadel for his teaching job knowing that it was where Jordan had gone to school. He did know Jordan personally as well (I’m going to be using his pen name for WoT as opposed to his personal name because, well, I never knew him. Though I did meet him at a book signing once.) - it looks like they met when Jordan was already quite ill. And that’s the Foreword.

5. Every time it’s noted that Harriet (Jordan’s widow) was his editor, I feel the urge to wonder why on earth she was asleep at the wheel for Crossroads of Twilight and Knife of Dreams (though, honestly, the books started to lose focus and needed much tighter editing starting in Lord of Chaos). I mean, it’s common in a LOT of series, once they become popular. But wow there’s a lot of needless fluff in the later WoT books.

6. Okay, the biographical section of the book. First thing relevant to the books is that even as a kid, Jordan was exposed to war-related PTSD - his father was in the Pacific during WWII and “For years afterward he would sometimes wake up in the night, sweating, afraid that in his sleep, in his remembered dreams, he might have hurt the wife he loved.” I’m seeing a lot of Rand in what’s written here about Jordan’s father. A gentle man who did his best to be honest and good but was terrified that he might hurt the people he loves.

7. Ah, Jordan ran into a very common trouble of gifted kids once they get into college -- he had always been smart enough to glide through classes, so he had no clue how to study, and floundered once the classes were hard enough to require it. I mean, mood. Been there.

8. That’s when he enlisted, and he spent two tours in Vietnam. Even before I actually read the section on it, I can say that (much like Jordan was second-hand aware of how rough WWII was on his father), I have seen the effects that going to Vietnam had on my own uncle. Incredibly traumatizing experience for him that he still has after-effects about, even today. It’s affected him his whole life.

9. Jordan was aware that his own personal experiences had an impact on his writing -- he even pointed out himself that his own personal trauma from instinctively shooting a woman who aimed a gun at him during his Vietnam tour was basically why Rand (& Mat) have issues killing women. So, he was dealing with his own trauma while writing. I think it’s possible, as a reader, to be aware of that personal history but also go “but Rand’s attitude really doesn’t fully make sense with the worldbuilding and can get pretty frustrating, especially to female readers”. Both of those things can exist at the same time, I think. Bringing personal experience to the writing process is a double-edged sword that way.

To go back to that worldbuilding thought, there are definitely times where it feels like Jordan failed to fully do the mental math on what a world that has the backstory that he has given WoT would look like (and the show actually reflects the book’s reality more in what Liandrin says about how despite the power of the Aes Sedai, there are still many places where powerful men are in a position to hurt little girls). A non-Jordan example of this sort of thing would be Dragon Age: Origins. In the character creation screen, the player is straight-up told that women and men are treated equally in the world setting they’re about to play. In some of the character origin choices, this is disproven within minutes of actual gameplay, with oversexualized female characters and sexual assault threats that are pretty much only directed at women. Because that stuff is subconsciously lurking in the background of the writer’s mind and it just seeps out. While Rand’s sexism is more ‘benign’ in that it stems from him holding women above himself as a category, this still harms the women around him (and harms himself). I do think Jordan was aware of that, because we do see negative results from Rand’s No Woman Must Be Killed stance, but, again... given Rand’s cultural background, him having this stance at all makes very little sense, because he didn’t grow up in a culture where women were treated as fragile flowers that must be sheltered and kept from the dangers of the world (and it makes no sense for that to be LTT’s background either).

10. We also get the note in the middle of all this that Jordan’s mom was “a housewife”... but she worked “in defense” during the war “when everyone worked” and then later in her life, after she had kids, she suffered frequent nervous breakdowns. Which sounds like a very familiar story in terms of some of the history I’ve read on women during/after WWII, where they got a taste of freedom and independence during the war and then were expected to completely give up that part of themselves when the men came back to reclaim their jobs. Just stuff all their feelings inside to be the ~perfect housewives~. And this also makes me think of how Jordan always has a “but you gotta quit your job if you decide to have a husband/family” clause for the ‘working’ women in the series who aren’t nobility/elites (Aiel Maidens & Seanchan to’raken riders).

11. His experience in Vietnam sounds like it definitely also contributed a lot to Mat’s characterization in TSR/TFoH. This whole entire section here on page 14 vibes very Mat (before he got sucked into the Seanchan ‘storyline’, such as it was). “In the end, for most of us, the medals boiled down to managing not to die.” ... “That is why I am not I repeat, not! a hero. I just managed to stay alive.” From reading this, it sounds like Rand was based more on his father’s experiences/PTSD from WWII, and Mat was based more on his own experiences/feelings in Vietnam (or, to put it another way, Rand was based more on an outside view of how PTSD affected someone that he loved, while Mat was based more on his own internal experience of war). Though his descriptions of being ‘in the zone’ (which I’ve definitely heard other people talk about too but have never experienced myself) sound similar to how being a channeler affects people, in terms of time slowing, your senses feeling sharper, etc.

12. Okay, skipping past his early writing career (he first met his future wife Harriet while he was out shopping his first book, in her capacity as an editor), the first books he wrote under the “Robert Jordan” pen-name were some novels in the Conan universe (I’ve never read them; I saw the movie(s)? but never read any of the books) and I am reminded that the first plan for the WoT books was a six-book series. So that was after Eye of the World had already been completed and he was almost finished with The Great Hunt. Plan at the time was six books total but morphed as the books progressed.

13. His illness really was the kind that progressed very rapidly. I never read about all the details back when it happened, but it all happened over the course of about a year and a half before he died, it sounds like here. Maybe two?

14. Harriet, as both his widow and editor, was entrusted with the task of finding someone to complete the books. She first found out about Sanderson based on reading the eulogy written by him on his personal blog post when Jordan died (that a friend had sent to her), and decided on him as the one after reading Mistborn. He was the only name on her list of potential authors who she thought could finish the series, though it sounds like it didn’t hurt that he was already under the Tor umbrella.

15. So, the epilogue that we have in the current series is, basically, the one that was dictated by Jordan once he’d realized that he was most likely not going to recover in order to finish writing the series himself (and recorded by Team Jordan).

16. “All told, there were roughly two hundred manuscript pages of book-specific notes left behind. Some of the pages were outlines for complete scenes - bit and pieces of what became the published prologues for the final three books, for instance, as well as the all-important epilogue of A Memory of Light - but others were only hints of plots and solutions. And then there were the thousands upon thousands of pages of series-related notes, glossaries, lists, and other working materials Jordan had left behind in his personal files. It was all they had, and it left so very much undone. There wasn’t a full outline. There wasn’t a sequenced plot. Most of the puzzles only had pieces of the solution. One of the questions that Maria never got to ask Jordan - the next one on her list that Friday before he passed - was about the final moment in the series: “How did Rand light his pipe?” The answer to this, and everything else, now fell to Brandon and Team Jordan.”

17. What a massive, unbelievably massive undertaking. “Along the way, there was also a keen awareness that Jordan had made and then cast aside many plans throughout the writing of the series. Did they need to use all the hints in the years and years of notes? Surely not, since at times the notes didn’t even agree with each other. Jordan had a habit of stockpiling old files, after all: a boon for the later researcher, but a nightmare for the present writer.” And, for me, whatever you might say about Sanderson as a writer himself, whether you like his writing style or not, or like him as a person or not, you can’t say that he wasn’t sincerely doing his best to live up to the legacy that Harriet handed to him, or that he’s not a genuine fan of the series. Same thing with Rafe Judkins now -- agree or disagree with the changes that have been made, but Rafe is a very sincere fan of the series and is adapting the books with a sincere heart.

18. “Had Jordan lived to complete the work himself, it’s unlikely he would’ve managed to fit all that needed to be done within the single book he’d promised. Light knows, it might well have grown even beyond the fourteen volumes that Brandon and Team Jordan ultimately delivered.” I’ve literally said exactly this same thing, lol. And, with that, we are done with that section of the book.

19. The next section is about Tolkien’s inspiration on Jordan and the series. On why Jordan wanted to write his own fantasy series: “One of my themes is (and it’s one reason I wrote the books as fantasies) there is good, there is evil, there is right, there is wrong - it does exist. If you do that in a mainstream novel you are accused of being judgmental unless you’ve chosen the right political viewpoint.”

20. This section talks about fantasy in general as a genre before noting the specific elements (especially in EotW) that are inspired by Tolkien - the Shire/the Two Rivers; the Fades/the Black Riders -- and all this was very deliberate on Jordan’s part, to evoke a sense of nostalgia before he went beyond those general outlines of what had been inspired by Tolkien. And he also took inspiration from the same places that Tolkien took inspiration -- the myths and legends of our own world.

21. Then he goes on for... a while about language evolution through time, but I’ve read about that before, so I’m kinda skimming this part, ngl. But essentially, he kinda links what Tolkien was doing with language in LotR with what Jordan does with the concept of the Wheel of Time itself.

22. But then he does also go on to point out that having been in the military and going through war is another thing that Tolkien and Jordan had in common, and something that can be seen in their protagonists, that Frodo at the end of LotR also appears to be suffering PTSD/‘shell-shock' and is never the same again.

23. Okay, now in the next section, we dive into the actual creation of the series itself, starting with the first idea of it in the mid-70s, which was the basic notion of ‘what is it REALLY like to be the savior of mankind and what kind of toll might that have on someone’ with the addition of ‘and you’ll go mad and die to save everyone’. So that’s the core of the narrative that Rand believes he’s walking for the majority of the series. But he didn’t actually write anything on the idea until 1983 when the success of his Conan tie-books led them to asking him if he could write a fantasy book or series of his own.

24. lol, first it was gonna be a single book. Then maybe a trilogy. The publisher though “knew how Jim liked to tell a story” so offered him a six-book deal.

25. Yeah. I knew that “Tam” essentially (whatever his original name was) was the original character idea, before Tam became the foster father and Rand became the main character and that makes so much sense after seeing how much Jordan based Rand’s fears and personality on his own father. Of course he thought of the character as an older man, who’d lived a life. That was who he was basing it on.

26. So some parts of Jordan’s collection are staying sealed until 2037. It doesn’t really say why most of it is already opened to the public but some of it is being unsealed in the future. I wonder if some of his notes have maybe some more personal comparisons not comfortable being made public at the time? But in his earliest notes, three books “dominated his early decisions regarding the scope and course of The Wheel of Time”. Lord of the Rings, Le Morte d’Arthur, and The White Goddess: A Historical Grammar of Poetic Myth. I have not read the last two, so I’ve gotta trust what the author tells me about them, lol. I do roughly know that Le Morte d’Arthur formed the basis for a lot of the current stories about King Arthur, but I’ve never heard of The White Goddess before.

27. Apparently, The White Goddess is not considered... um, particularly accurate as far as the connections that it makes between various myths and legends of different cultures. “It was, at its core, a kind of conspiracy theory. Those sell.” Ah, it’s about the idea that there was an overarching goddess that cultures all worshipped before the current forms of religion existed. Okay, yeah, I’m definitely seeing how this would inform some of his writing ideas as he was pulling the story together.

28. I do like that the author here -- Michael Livingston -- sets out what he believes are Jordan’s INTENTIONS in the text (based on what his various notes said about the story) but says that it’s up to the reader as to whether or not Jordan was successful in translating that to the narrative. Example: he points out that while Jordan’s intention in creating the saidin/saidar binary was to point out the damage that one side unchecked can do and to show a need for balance rather than one half overpowering the other half, this is something that can certainly feel exclusionary to people who don’t fit into that binary. I do appreciate that acknowledgement; that Jordan’s intent in the story isn’t the only thing that matters.

29. But that does get me to thinking about... benefit of the doubt and what we extend to authors. For me personally, CoT/KoD were an overall bad experience and wore away so much of my own pool of belief and so I don’t extend the same benefit of the doubt to Jordan’s writing and intentions that I might have in earlier books. I look at the current ending (confirmed in this book to be dictated by Jordan, with only “a couple” of scenes by Sanderson) and I look at where we left off in KoD and I go, “yeah, I kinda think Jordan would have screwed up in a lot of similar ways to what people who dislike the Sanderson books are unhappy about, because the vast majority of the ‘harvest’ in the Sanderson books comes from narrative seeds that Jordan sowed, and there’s no way to know if he would have solved the narrative problems better than Sanderson did”.

Non-Seanchan example: Jordan clearly didn’t know how he was going to get Rand from “deeply traumatized” to “ready to wander the world carefree” or he would have left notes about it. And it’s easy to say that he would have figured it out as he went along, but there’s absolutely no guarantee that he would have done it in a way any better than what Sanderson ended up doing. There are some specific things that I’m sure that I’ll probably point to and say “eh, I feel like Jordan might have stuck the landing better on that one” but I’m no more guaranteed to be right than anyone else. There’s absolutely no way for any of us to know, you know? I can look at the Seanchan plotline as it stood in KoD, look at Mat’s ending, and say, “yeah, there’s nothing that Jordan could have done to make any of that feel anything less like a shit sandwich” but someone else might look at those two plot points and go, “well, if he did a. b. and c., then it would actually be a great story.” And they might even be absolutely correct that it would be a great story... but there’s still no guarantee it’s the story that Jordan would have written. And that’s not me saying that I think Jordan was... a terrible author at the end... because there still are some great scenes even in CoT & KoD (and New Spring is one of the best books in the series imo), but I do think he lost the thread of his story and wandered off into the weeds. And I don’t think that there was any guarantee that he would ever have picked it up again successfully. We might have had six more meandering books in the vein of CoT/KoD before sputtering to an end. Or he might have looked at how much easier and more crisp New Spring was as a read and reworked his future plans to put out a great banger of an ending. No way to know which direction he might have gone.

30. Tam had already turned into (unnamed as yet) Rand by the time Jordan got to the outlining stage - “Young man (age unspecified, but 18-25) in small village”. Interesting note that at this point in the outline men and women also had some different “abilities” from each other, not just different strengths. Oh. and the Dark One was also an alien at this point in the outline, “Sa’khan” and the Forsaken & Shadowspawn were fellow aliens that he brought with him from his dying world. But he had figured out already that he wanted the person who opposed “Sa’Khan” to be named the Dragon, and the origin of the savior/destroyer viewing of the Dragon was based on Jordan comparing the Western stories of dragons (fairly destructive) to the stories he heard in Vietnam (life-giving, standing for power and prosperity). Plus the various dragons and serpents in other cultural stories as well - the Norse world-serpent and the dragon in the Christian book of Revelation (sounds like Revelation is where he got the “seals on the Dark One’s prison” idea).

31. Looks like Rand’s original name was “Rhys al’Thor”, though Jordan played with the last name for a while. He liked the way “Arthur” and “Thor” had similar sounds and was looking to invoke both at the same time - so combining those two mythical figures is how he started with Rand -- a King Arthur who was also the god Thor. There’s a lot more King Arthur in the early books than the late books -- once we hit around The Fires of Heaven, we really move away from Rand being much involved in Arthurian myth (and that’s left more to Elayne & her family). Interestingly, al’Thor at this time was known as “The Hammer” - that part of what he envisioned for Rand kinda spun off into Perrin’s character, it sounds like.

32. Hmm, the original concept for Warders was a lot more of an equal partnership than it ended up being -- they were originally men “who watch the borders of human lands” and have “some abilities gifted from the Power, but they themselves have no use of the Power”. They’re bonded to a female wielder of the Power but notably “she cannot compel him to obey her” but if he disobeys, it breaks the bond between them. The gifts they were given were a “sense” for the presence of evil, some good self-healing, and slowed aging.

33. Ah, the name Aes Sedai is based on the Irish myths of aos si (faerie from the Otherworld). And he based the White Tower structure on “the pre-modern convents of the Catholic Church”. He was also amassing a list of names yet to be attached to any characters: Lewin, Thom, Emon, Jaim, Elaida, Mina.

34. This is Jordan’s own (very early) list of how the characters he was creating matched up to Arthurian myth:

Merlin: Amyrlen

Igraine: Tigraine

Arthur: Rhys al’Thor

Gwynevere: Gwyn al’Veer

Morgan le Fay: Emorgaine

King Lot: (?) Lor

Margawse: Morgase

Gawain: Gwayne

Gareth: Garth

Interesting to see which names roughly survived and which didn’t. He’d already decided at this point that his “Merlin” figure would be a woman, the “Amrylen” (Amyrlin Seat). He’d already decided that “Gwynevere” would be a ‘village girl’ as well. I wonder if at this point “Gwyn al’Veer” was “Rhys al’Thor’s” only love interest or if he’d thought that far yet. “Sir Gareth” would be ‘one of the village lads’. Lancelot was turned into “Lan, the Warder”. “Sir Galahand” was originally Lan’s son.

35. In 1987, he wrote a new outline for the first book, with Rhys still his hero. At this point, several of the pieces of Winternight are already in place - the yearly festival, “Rhys” lives with his “widowed farmer” father outside the village, an attack by “half-beast” mean and the dad getting injured badly by one of them. The story that Tam tells about finding Rand is somewhat similar, though the Aiel were “savage tribesmen, horse-mounted clans” at this point. Oh! Oh! The change that the show made with Tam and Tigraine came from Jordan’s notes!!!! (either a consultant read the public notes or they were just very in tune with Jordan’s original thoughts): “he found a woman, a warrior of the enemy, on the slopes of Dragonmount, dying of her wounds. She was pregnant, and though it was obviously not time for the baby to be born, her wounds had brought on labor. He helped the woman birth her child, and buried her when she died”. And at this point, he had vaguely thought of a “Green-God” at the end of the book who would help Rhys defeat the forces of “Sa’khan”, a god that would be revealed as a construct of the Power who watched over a magical pool (which is basically the end of the Eye of the World).

36. In June of 1987, Jordan did a second version of his ‘namelist’ for the book. This one was 33 pages long. 33 pages of names for people, places, and things, with handwritten notes to adjust them further. Changes:

Dark One renamed to Sha’tan

The Ogyr are now tall instead of short and are excellent stoneworkers and foresters.

Rhys is now officially Rand

Has already decided that Rand would fake his own death after defeating the Dark One though “Moiraine, Arinel (an early name for Elayne), Equene (the current name for Egwene) are among those who are not fooled and will not let him go alone

Tam gets a name, though it’s short for “Tamtrim” at this time; he based it on Mesopotamian mythology: Tammuz (Dumuzid) who was the god of shepherds & ‘the life-giving growth of plants’

He shorted Tamtrim to “Tam” and gave the second syllable to “Matrim” also known as “Mat”, though it was currently a name without a character

originally there was a complex set of religions in the Westlands, but he dropped that in favor of “cultural mentalities” of groups like the Children of the Light, the Red Ajah, and the Tuatha’an.

sa’angreal were based on the idea of the Sangreal aka the Holy Grail from Arthurian literature; objects imbued with the One Power

Padan Fain was originally named “Eward White” - he died in the attack on the village in the first draft but was mysteriously surviving in future drafts and spotted in the city

“Nyneve Bayal”, based a bit on Nimue from Arthurian legend, was one of his first characters, and was originally meant to have a darker role where she died, was brought back from the dead, and is serving the Dark One, getting Lan to oppose Rand at one point, and also was going to ‘kill’ Moiraine (who had ascended to the Amrylin Seat) but actually trap her “half-way between life and death” to be brought back later. So parts of this role were given over to Lanfear.

Gentling was a much more violent process originally, and there was also originally a testing in place for men once they came of age. Originally, being gentled didn’t cause an intense depression but was “a form of lobotomy performed with the power that makes the victim very passive, incapable of violence, and receptive to being commanded” and he called it being “gelded”. It sounds like it didn’t actually remove the Power from them but instead turned them into tools to be used (which sort of got adjusted and moved to how the Seanchan find and treat the women they turn into damane, it sounds like).

37. The next step was the “Test Manuscript”. Further changes in this:

Peddler now named Mikal Fain.

Rand has friends! Matrim Piket, Dannil Aybara, and Perrin Dael. Dannil actually survived long enough in the drafts that he’s in the original cover art for EotW, I learn. Sadly, I think I no longer have my original battered copy of EotW - I replaced it last year when I decided to do my reread.

Dannil got cut from the book because Harriet pointed out that he was doing absolutely nothing (again, Harriet, where was this energy for CoT & KoD?). The general plot was roughly the same as the finishing product at this point, so I assume Perrin was with Egwene, and Mat had stolen the dagger and was with Rand, so... where was Dannil in all this? lol, Jordan tried to keep him in by arguing “he’ll be important in book 5!” I wonder if he was originally the boy who would go over to the Seanchan and Mat took over that role?

Yeah, the version of the Test Manuscript that has Dannil in it is a lot less focused than the finished version.

38. The next surviving revision is “Revision 23″. Changes of note:

The Ogier “Jak Vladad” become Loial.

Jaren Telamon becomes Lews Therin Telamon.

39. Honestly, given the things that I hated so much about what CoT & KoD gave us, it’s almost sad to read Jordan writing:

The main thrust of the story will not be how fact becomes legend, however. Rather it will explore the nature of good and evil, of free will and the duty owed by the individual to humanity as a whole, of why and how mankind makes the choice to oppose evil, and the harm that can be done in the name of good.

People who do not champion and support good are acquiescing in the press of evil.

Some people who believe they are championing good actually fight [for] the cause of evil, for they would bind the free will given by the Creator.

That is EXACTLY what it feels like the story lost for me in Rand, Perrin, & Mat’s storylines in CoT & KoD. It felt like Jordan got so caught up in the shiny newness of allying with the Seanchan that he overlooked his own themes in the series and how he was undermining them.

40. At this point, Jordan is drafting The Great Hunt and has a somewhat comprehensive summary of the long game of the series as a whole:

Rand tries to flee his destiny but this only brings him into further conflict with the Forsaken

Determined to unite the people to face “Sha’tan’s” minions, by force if necessary

This middle section here I’m not certain about though -- he tries to defeat the Dark One, fails horribly, and must flee to regroup. That doesn’t sound like something that happened during his fights against TDO. That sounds more like when he tried to take back Ebou Dar from the Seanchan. Interesting change.

Rand was supposed to be completely without allies at some point in the story, originally, but that never quite happens in the books. The closest we really get is his flight from the Darkfriend Asha’man who attack him at the end of The Path of Daggers, but even then he flees... to his allies in Caemlyn (picking up Nynaeve, etc) and, of course, Min is surgically attached to him nearly all the time after that point He was supposed to realize that “by attempting to force humankind to oppose evil he was attempting to circumvent the free will that the Creator had made a central part of all humans”.

The ending is essentially what we got -- Rand binds away evil rather than destroying it because it “cannot be destroyed any more than can Good. Evil must be opposed by people who choose to champion Good”.

“Humanity, to be human, must have something to oppose and something to support, and the free choice of which will be which.” I feel like that is essentially exactly what happens in Rand’s confrontation with TDO in Shayol Ghul, yes?

also, no mention of allying with slavers, just pointing that out.

41. lol, damn, in the Test Manuscript, Min bangs Rand in the first book, right after “Eguene” breaks up with him. lol, and, wow this is... not super-great. So Lord of Chaos/A Crown of Swords Min was always in the plans, it seemed. It does seem like Jordan lifted some of the ideas in this scene for the post-Rand/Aviendha sex scene -- Rand talking about how they have to get married now that they’ve had sex and her being like “lol no”. Min also talks here in a way that makes it clear that she already had a viewing about having had sex with Rand, though she’s... happy enough about fulfilling the prophecy in this version.

42. Oh, here we go! First mention of what would become Seanchan in Jordan’s notes. I really am intrigued to see how this idea grew (and eventually took over and swamped) the rest of the series, even if I’m unhappy at the results in the books themselves. So, the first idea for the ~other continent~ was that Rand would be “shipwrecked on the coast of a Blight” and find himself in a land broken into city-states, each ruled by an Aes Sedai. Pretty different from the Seanchan we ended up with. Rand was going to fall in love with the daughter of a general that he was “given” to but then have to leave to avoid being gentled by the Aes Sedai in charge of the city-state, with not!Tuon bringing an army with her to help him take the “Stone of Stair”. Okay, Michael calling Tuon a ~young general who is also a ruler~ is hilarious. Tuon never showed an ounce of tactical knowledge in the entire series. Anyway, changing from Rand shipwrecking in Seanchan to instead having the Seanchan invade was supposed to... tighten the plot. Best laid plans o’ mice and men. Best laid plans. Boy, wow, it did the opposite.

43. Unfortunately, we don’t get a timeline here of when and how Jordan swapped things over from one version to the other. It was mentioned in the start that a lot of Jordan’s notes were not dated, so it can’t be certain exactly when certain things happened. The author notes that Jordan had also wanted to “dive into the complicated politics of a land invaded”. Again, shame that Jordan only really did that in WH and then decided Mat navel-gazing for two books was more interesting (in fairness, he does continue to explore it a bit in the prologues but, yeah, it really feels like he dropped the ball in the main storylines featuring the Seanchan).

44. Oooh, getting into Taimandred. “To imagine that an author never changes their mind about their plots or characters -- especially in a work as massively complex as The Wheel of Time -- would be foolish” .. “Another example of this -- interesting both for the ramifications within the narrative and its importance to fans -- is the shifting identity of the character Demandred. It’s a perfect microcosm of not just Jordan’s ceaseless creative process, but also the kinds of problems it left Brandon and Team Jordan in the wake of his passing.”

45. Interesting! Even after he’d finished The Great Hunt and was working on The Dragon Reborn, Jordan hadn’t finalized all the names of the Forsaken yet. In his notes he had:

Ishamael (check and already in the books)

Lanfear (ditto)

Aginor - already dead

Balthamel - already dead

Sammael

Rahvin

De’ath (...literally just the word death with an apostrophe)

Moloc

Be’aldrid

Maladour

Malifecin

Sha’rein

Savintar

46. “If we rewind back to Jordan’s own notes, however, we can see that at least at the time Jordan was writing Lord of Chaos, Taimandred was absolutely true.” Twice in his private notes for the books, Jordan wrote “Taim/Demandred showed up” at Dumai’s Wells. In his notes where he was summing up the accomplishments of the Forsaken, for Demandred, he wrote: “He will show up claiming to be Mazrim Taim, taking advantage of Rand’s amnesty.” And he was also supposed to originally be the person who’d killed Asmodean (makes sense, since it happens very soon before “Taim” shows up in the story). We know this because he wrote in a note about Nynaeve - “She does not know that Asmodean was a prisoner of Rand, nor, of course, that he was killed by Demandred.” The author says that it’s difficult to tell from Jordan’s notes when and why Taimandred changed into two separate people. “Sadly, we’ll never know. Jordan shared a great deal with Harriet and the other members of Team Jordan, but he hardly told them everything.”

In my own reread, it felt very much like Taim was Taimandred in LoC and very clearly that he was only Taim in WH, but the parts in between are wobbly and uncertain.

47. Honestly, I feel like pivoting away from Taimandred was a mistake on Jordan’s part. Him being the author of the slaughter at Dumai’s Wells and him killing Asmodean just... makes so much more sense than what we ended up with. I’m gonna hope that the tv rule of conservation of characters leads the show back to Taimandred as a reality, lol.

48. It was Brandon who came up with Random Sharan Army to try to explain why the fuck the Dark One was so pleased with Demandred in LoC if he wasn’t Taim and therefore had accomplished absolutely nothing of note on the page. Interesting. I was sure that the Random Sharan Army was connected to Jordan’s pivot to allying with the slavers, because the numbers just didn’t seem justified otherwise, but I guess Jordan was allying with them... for who knows why tbh. The mystery of why Jordan was obsessed with allying with the slavers remains a mystery thus far into this book. It kinda seems like it will be one of those forever questions that is never answered.

Jordan just... he really didn’t successfully sell me on it actually being NECESSARY to ally with the slavers, and I think a lot of that is rooted in his arbitrary withholding of information from Rand? Like, Rand is trying to ally with the slavers because he believes he has no choice, but HIS OWN ALLIES (including his LOVER!!!) are straight-up withholding vital intel from him re: the slaver army’s weaknesses for... absolutely no good reason at all. The deck feels so artificially stacked in the Seanchan’s favor due to Min and Nynaeve undergoing voluntary amnesia rather than any actual narrative reasons for the Seanchan to have the advantage. Again, it’s a place where I feel like I can literally see Jordan’s puppet strings on everyone’s shoulders rather than it making sense that the characters would behave this way.

49. Okay, the summary of what we know about the “outriggers”:

Set 5-10 years after the Last Battle

“focused on Mat, Tuon, and the changes faced by the Seanchan as a result of the events of the Last Battle” lol what changes. that was the whole issue through KOD. That Jordan refused to let Tuon change or grow even the slightest bit. I guess this would have been changes that happen despite Tuon throwing tantrums and kicking and screaming the whole way (and probably murdering and enslaving a LOT more people).

“All that survives, in fact, are two tantalizing sentences. One depicts Mat lying in a cold gutter, the dice having failed him. The other sees Perrin on a boat, sailing to Seanchan to kill an old friend.”

honestly, if it had the same energy as the Mat and Perrin chapters in CoT/KoD, then it’s hard to imagine the outriggers being anything but a boring slog where our main characters constantly think about how they should oppose slavery but then don’t actually do anything useful because slavery is just so gosh-darn helpful and some of the slavers are just so pretty. I’m just... I do wish more notes had survived on this, because Jordan’s pivot towards having all his main male characters working towards allying with and appeasing the slavers has been THE thing about CoT & KoD that really ruined those two books for me, and I just wish I understood WHY he went from his interesting and nuanced storyline that he had all the way through Winter’s Heart and instead changed it to Mat acting like “wanting to brutally torture and enslave people” and “not wanting to be brutally tortured and enslaved” are two equally valid points of view, with the edge being given to whoever has the most mysterious eyes.

50. More interesting to me are that Jordan had been considering writing a prequel about Tam. Basically the story that Jordan had first considered, all those years ago, about a soldier who has finished with his war. The other prequel he’d wanted to write would have been Moiraine and Lan’s lead-up to Winternight -- what led them to Two Rivers just in time. “As with the outrigger novels, however, Jordan’s archived papers contain no complete sequences or outlines”.

51. And the rest of the book is a glossary of the various characters, places, and ideas, with how they connect to mythology or the real world. I might potentially use it in the future during fics maybe but I’m not going to go over it here.

Overall, this was very interesting, even if the questions that I most wish could have been answered still remain mysteries.

#wot reread #technically not a reread #but it fits in that tag for organizational reasons #wheel of time #wot #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #a memory of light #amol spoilers #a memory of light spoilers #the wheel of time

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valeffelees · 11 months

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hi hi hi can you tell me more about the fairy simon au please also your baz is so pretty i love him so much

hOLY SHIT thank you—both for coming here to let me talk about this silly AU and for the compliment, drawing Baz is good for my mental health, honestly. he is just... so lovely. 😭💞

about Bazza in the AU: the story (kinda) takes place post-Watford for Baz, so he's in his early 20s; he's an art student, he's a magician, and he is still a vampire, but, Natasha is actually alive in this AU because Baz wasn't turned in the nursery as a kid, he was turned a bit later in life. Baz plays the violin still, too, but not as well as he does in canon because he stopped his lessons cold around 12-13, which was also right around when he started taking art pretty seriously. without the Mage's cuts and reforms and shit happening, the school still offered a plethora of creative arts courses to the students, and of course they're not quite like Normal classes 'cause pretty much everything ties back to magic in some way at Watford, etc., but he liked them well enough and they were enough to get him into a good program after he graduated!

about Simon in the AU: so, this is funny. i was actually editing my one fanfic, and i have this section in it that goes: "It is impossible to search the entire Wavering Wood. The environment is too thick with magic, the old and unpredictable kind that used to belong to faeries and fable creatures and all other manner of strange, lost things. Penelope says there are even parts of the Wood rumoured to be untouched by magicians. Hidden meadows and ancient groves and brooks that babble of the future, sequestered away because they never stop moving and changing, because they do not want to be found." and it planted this funny seed in my brain. in the books, fairies are like a lost magical people. Simon tells us that they wandered into the woods for a few centuries and then couldn't find their way back. and i just had this silly thought: "imagine a fairy does the opposite. wandered out, but then didn't know how to find its way back in."

the whole idea of the AU is like... this total whimsy-ass summer Simon and Baz get to spend together.

Baz comes home from school on holidays to visit his family: in winter and spring, that means he stays with his father. but in the summer, he goes to Watford to spend time with his mother (Natasha doesn't actually leave the school very often, she drowns herself in work; Malcolm sees her very rarely these days) but "spending time with his mother" is actually just six weeks of quiet lunches in her office together before Baz goes off to find a good place on the grounds to sit with his sketchbook and his Spotify until he has to go back for an equally quiet supper in her office together. and so it goes: less than a week into break, he decides to spend the afternoon in the Wavering Wood, and by chance, happens to meet Simon. a fairy that walked a little too far for a little too long, and can't seem to remember his way back to where he came from anymore.

and Simon is a fucking pest. but—he's harmless.

and he's pretty.

and Baz actually happens to like the Wavering Wood quite a lot, thank you very much, going back there every afternoon has absolutely nothing to do with anything else, lost fairies or otherwise! 😉😂

if anyone sees this and is wondering what the hell i'm on about, click here!

#THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ASKING AND LETTING ME TALK ABOUT THEM i am sorry this is a whole essay like this is not what you signed up for #but i am living the absolute DREAM rn i love these silly guys #i will have to come up with a name for this au one day...#but for now i'm just calling it:#valen's fairy simon au #no wait: ''valen's fairy simon au (open for suggestions)'' 😂#snowbaz

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vaadalt · 1 year

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+18 MDNI Turning Table sub!Law x Dom!GN reader

Okay... i dedicate this fic to all my Law simps i can know, enjoy this fic where i bully like him.

TW : TW : Rope, nipple play, praise&degradation, humiliation, reader being possessive,blindfold, bites, blowjob, cock&ball ring and most importantly Aftercare. GN Reader

+18 under the cut

Word count : 1400.

A day like any other passes among the crew of the Heart. Bepo is still cute, Shachi and Penguin are still perverts. Law is always so cold, giving his orders…

And you in the business? You stay yourself. A little teasing shit, which pranks everyone. But today won't be a day like any other... You've been with Law for a while now, you're getting to know him... He's accumulating a lot of pressure, stress lately. Even if he doesn't let anything show through… Then, the insomnia spreads far too much for your taste. So you decided to totally love your dear and tender, to help release the pressure...

Your way, of course. Otherwise, it wouldn't be funny.

It all starts at lunchtime, you have decided to tease a little bit. While everyone is eating, you come and stick yourself against Law, who puts an arm around your hips, coming to rest your sides against his. After two mouthfuls of rice, you lean into his ear, after watching the crew wandering about in their usual discussions, inattentive to Law… the perfect moment.

Your hand accompanies your whispered words very gently, with a warm voice. The hand, brushing the inside of his thigh. You feel him, shiver under your touch... Which makes you have a smirk.

“I want you, Law…~”

Followed by a small growl, pushed deep into his ear. Law goes from surprised, to red-cheeked… Lowering his cap to hide his flustered look.

“Name-ya…Sto…p”

Oh yes, he could be embarrassed. In public especially… In the private sphere, it is another matter. The day is going to be long for our dear Law, suffering throughout this cursed day, your teases.

When evening comes, while everyone is sleeping... Law comes out of his office, ready to make Name-ya pay, for the many teases inflicted today. But what was his surprise when he opened the door to his private quarters, to see his Lover in a leather outfit, sitting on the bed. Waiting for him with a smirk, Law also responds with a smirk even though… He holds back his blush seeing the beauty of Name-ya.

“Well Love…You are there~”

What you come to say, as Law approaches. You stand up, to exchange a kiss with Law. He is greedy, as his tattooed, calloused hands caress Name-ya's body. You come to wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. As the lovers make their way to bed... During this warm embrace. Law gently nudging Name-ya, so the two fell onto the bed. Law begins to undress Name-ya, who surprised, comes to reverse the roles… In a nice roll on the side, Law finds himself back against the bed, Name-ya sitting on his lap. You come smirk to Law, surprised to see you take command.

A negative click comes out of Name-ya's mouth.

"Huh huh, none of that today... Today I'm driving handsome~"

“Name-ya…”

“Sssh… do you trust me, Law? ''

An approving nod from Law.

“Good… Very good Love… Safe word? ''

“Red. ''

“Good boy… Now I’m Captain, for you. ''

He's blushing, Law. As he feels the heat rising within him. Giving him some shivers. As he comes to bite his lower lip.

“Ye….Yes Captain…”

"Good boy~"

A kiss to reward him, as Name-ya undresses him. In no time Law was naked…Handles tied tightly to his lower back, legs tied in a certain position, ropes meeting at his upper thigh and ankles, on purpose to make him keep his legs open.

‘’ My my… What a lovely body you have… And it’s all mine ~’’

Voice was raspy, imbued with a strong desire for Law. A blindfold covers his eyes. Hiding his golden gaze, which had made Name-ya crack more than once... Your hands, coming to caress very slowly the muscular body of Law, who crave for Name-ya's touch. A smirk takes shape on your lips… As you bend over to attack Law's nipples, already hard from excitement, his member throbbing a bit, leaking some pre cum.

Tongue strokes are given, alternating between biting. Law's jaw clenching a bit, as some loud moans escape from the Surgeon of Death.

As your voice takes on an amused tone.

‘’ You’ll surely need to muffle your moan bitch-boy, imagine… What your crew gonna think about you? Being a pretty slut for me? huh? ''

Law bites his bottom lip again, to muffle his moans. Satisfied Name-ya begins to slowly lick Law's neck, hands roaming every square inch of his skin, amusingly leaving a few hickeys, in an act of showing who Law belongs to, before whispering sweet sentences to him. '' you're doing great Love… '' , '' Such a good boy, craving for my touch'' are some sentences, you can let slip in Law's ear… Who just come more and more into the sub-space. You go down more and more... Taking advantage that he is subject to your will.

You arrive in front of his member, full of desire, of pleasure. Proud erect member, dressed in two rings... one at the base of his member, the other around the purses. Your project? The tease, the edge... Making him beg to come, wanting him to let go of his control, to relax, to make him forget all his responsibilities for a moment.

You just stick out your tongue, leaving it trailing all the way down his member. Slowly... Very slowly, as you watch with pleasure, the results come quickly. Law shakes, as his member contracts under your tongue.

“P…please…Captain-ya.. Ah…Ke…Keep doing please! ''

'' Such a whore... perfect... ''

You go back up, while he huffs in frustration. You come to attack her nipples again, you suck one while your hand takes care of the other, having fun pulling it, pinching it. This tease that you are inflicting on him, it was working on him a lot… Once again, you step back under Law's grunts of frustration. Reaching out to grab some nipple clamps. Pressing on the mechanism to open the clamps, as you release the mechanism to close them on Law's hard nipples, who… moans higher than usual.

‘’ Damn… Can’t wait to see their reaction at the dinner tomorrow ~ Maybe I should get to your ass… To make you moan like the mess you are.My beautiful disaster ~ ''

A sadistic chuckle escapes your lips, as Law's cheeks are as red as tomatoes, your index finger passing at the chain that connects the pinches, which you come lift, causing the nipples to be pinched and pulled. at the same time. The moans, like Law's expression, between pleasure and pain, all his little grimaces accompanied by delicious sound... Perfect.

“Desperate, slutty as fuck… You are pathetic bitch-boy, i loooove it~”

A little more teasing, letting him squirm under your actions. Before coming to give him that reward, the long-awaited orgasm.

‘’ I’m going to put the chain between your teeth.. You're gonna pull yourself, okay? ''

“Y…yes Captain”

“Good boy. ''

You come and place the chain between his teeth, Law closing his teeth as he raises his head, to carry out Name-ya's orders to the letter. As you come down, taking his member in your hand as you masturbate slowly, your mouth coming around his member, your tongue turning around his sensible and salty head. Begin to rock back and forth on his veiny, hard cock. You combine that with your grip movements. You know Law's reactions by heart… When his legs start shaking, he's coming.

You withdraw your mouth from his member, while your hand accelerates to give way to the hoarse and deep grunts of Law, who begins to come, several loads come, soak your hand as his torso.

Satisfied, you come to kiss his forehead, followed by the corner of his lips.

“Good boy. ''

“Than…Thanks Captain-ya…”

Begins the reverse path, stripping him of all the accessories, the cords. As you whisper sweet things to him, congratulate him. Shortly after, both of you get up, for a shower before crashing into bed, a comfortable silence setting in… As you come in, swipe on some cream to soothe and help rebuild the skin. Once done, it is Law who initiates the contact, seeking physical affection, which you come to give him, letting him cling to you, as a caring hand strokes his hair.

“Thanks… Name-ya, it was nice… I felt so good. ''

A smile forms on your lips, while you gratify him with a few kisses on the forehead. As sleep comes to catch you both.

#one piece x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #one piece spicy fiction #sub!Law #dom!reader

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honestmouse20 · 8 months

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Okay, personal thoughts on dragons rising under the cut. Spoilers ahead!

I didn't care too much about Wildfyre going into part 2. she was cool but not really a character I was fully invested in. That is, until her and Kai went on their little quest/mission to get the dragon energy core. They were so Sweet! I loved how Kai had to be the responsible one and how Wildfyre had to learn how to thikn before she acted. They're a really good dynamic and I their relationship growing during this season felt very natrual and good!

Zane! also not one of my favorite characters. But him speaking to a broom with Pixal's photo taped to it got to me okay? I do wonder now where she is.

Mr. Frohicky (idk how to spell things, i've been up all night. give me a break lol) I did Not expect him to return after the crossroads episode back in part 1. He's actually grown on me a lot. It's still kinda weird bc the tone of this show is just a Bit different than previous Ninjago. But it's not bad and I wouldn't hate seeing more of him in the future

Lloyd. God he got so much character develepment this season but especially in part 2! From him trying to do everything on his own to upkeep the Monastary and then finally excepting help, to getting much better at teaching the new ninja. I really loved all the scenes with him an Arin and how their relationship has gone from Arin being a fanboy, to genuine respect and friendship. 10/10

Speaking of Lloyd. What on Earth was all that stuff he saw Again when he acted as the conduit again? I really hope we get more info on those vision in the next season. That's the one big mystery that they havn't really touched on

last lloyd thing, mayeb it's just the angst lover in me, but I really hope there's some kind of conequence to him acting as the conduit. Maybe it starts really draining him or maybe it just makes accessing his power a little harder. I hope they explain it or at least like, mention it.

I'm actually kinda glad they didn't go the whole route of having Nya distrust the Djinn guy who'se name i can't remember lol. It was a nice expectation subversion. Bc my first thought was that he was gonna be evil/ have heard that *she* was the one who tecnically destroyed Djinnjago. I really like that they helped him the way they did and the lesson it taught Sora

Speaking of Sora. I love her. I still fully belive that her power is creation but if it is just 'tech power' i really like how they're handling it. LIke we all Knew it was never Ryu's power she was using but the moment *she* figured that out still felt genuine and deserved because we saw her go through the process of realizing whta was holding her back. 10/10. no notes

Freaking COLE! So him and Lloyd are tied as my favorite charaters bc yee. But holy shit even tho it was 5 am when i got to his episode and i was exhausted. I sat up on the couch and just lost my shit. One, he's still so good at finding people in trouble/captured and deciding he's their protecter. I love him so much. and two. was it just me or was that whole episode so freaking queer coded it isnt funny? Like, even more so than his true potential episode back in S1.

Shipping aside, I really like how on par with his character his episodes were. Even tho they were short and I really crave more about him, they did a good job of leaving just enough questions to keep us interested while also showing us the important parts. Plys the new ability rock monster thing is cool

in that same vein. what the fuck does 'the earth is screaming' mean? hello that shits terrifying? My theory atm is that its' the realms fighting the merge bc it's like unnatural or something. but idk. i would have liked to hear more about that

Zane's car!!!! I own that set and holy fuck it did not dissapoint! At first i was kinda bummed it didn't do Actual spinjitzu, at least I don't think so. But him spinning wildy and saying 'this is adequate' or whatever, is so freaking funny! also it's super fast and looks epic. no notes lol

and Jay! we see him! I'm not really a big jay fan but I am curious what theyr'e gonna do with him next season

and finally, i Really liked all the references to past seasons/events! Even if it wasn't in your face, it was still really nice to be able to see all the pices of the past sprinkled throughout. It was also funny to see Sora being surprised Lloyd is the FSM's grandson. 10/10

If i think of more I'll make another post lol

god i need to re watch the season already

i have SO many thoughts. HOw am i supposed to go to work later and be an adult while ive got these little plastic ninja running through my head at full speed

#ninjago #ninjago spoilers #d rambles

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phantom088 · 11 months

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Chapter 8 of A Long Way Home: Night Time Stories

"Danny?… Danny?!… Danny!!" Finally, Danny woke up in a frantic state.

He leaned up, wide-eyed and gasping for air.

"Danny, calm down! You're alright." A familiar voice remarked.

Danny looked over towards the voice to see Eda was standing next to the table he was lying on… a table?

Danny realized he was still at the school, in a classroom this time.

Amity, Luz, Gus, Willow, Principle Bump, Eda, King and 2 people Danny didn't recognize were standing around him.

"You were out for a few hours, Danny." Eda informed. "For a while we thought you fully died."

"But you didn't." One of the new faces nervously remarked as he awkwardly smiled, the girl standing next to him scowled and elbowed him.

Danny looked at the two with a confused look. He could tell they were related as they looked alike, both having green hair, yellow eyes, and around the same height.

The main difference is one of them was a girl with long hair that was tied back, and she was wearing a blue and slightly darker blue school outfit, while the other person was a boy wearing a blue and yellow outfit.

"Oh, these are my older siblings, Danny." Amity quickly introduced. "Edric and Emira."

Edric and Emira did a silly pose behind Amity, and began to make funny faces at her.

Amity sighed. "They are twins." She added in. "And I got Emira to heal the scratches on your chest."

Danny looked down and placed his hand on his chest, the scratches were no longer there, his shirt was still ripped up… but to each your own.

"Cool… thanks." Danny remarked.

"Ah no problem Danny!" Emira excitedly remarked as she stepped forwards. "Any friend of Mittens is a friend of ours!"

Edric stepped forwards and ruffled Amity's hair. "Yep, isn't that right, Mittens?" He said in a baby voice.

Luz began laughing alongside Gus and Willow, and Danny couldn't help to chuckle.

Amity glowed very bright red in the face as she swatted Edric's hand away from her. "Knock it off!" She said in a mock voice of authority.

Edric laughed and back up next to Emira, who was smirking.

Danny frowned as a thought came to mind. "Wait, what happened after the Lux Mori left anyway?" He asked.

Principal Bump stepped up to answer this question.

"Well, from what I recall…" He begun. "You scared the Lux Mori away with some kind of powerful screech…"

"Ghostly Wail." Danny interrupted.

"Er, yes… that… and about 10 minutes after the Lux Mori ran off, Luz, Augustus, Willow, and Amity arrived to the scene… they seemed to know you as they rushed up to try and help you… I called them over as I was trapped under a tree branch, they made quick work of letting me out, Amity went to find Emira to help heal you and I crowed in Eda to come since Luz was the one who brought you here in the first place, abd Eda is Luz's care giver." Principal Bump shrugged. "And we brought you to the healing classroom and decided to keep you here incase you weren't stable enough to get back to The Owl House "

Danny tilted his head. "What do you mean by that?" He asked.

King climbed onto the table and walked up to Danny.

"Let me break the news." He announced. "King to future king." Danny looked up with a raised eyebrow.

Eda, Luz, and Principal Bump all just shrugged a and Eda mouthed what looked like the words "just go with it." Danny looked down to King. "Go on…" He remarked.

"Well…" King leaned onto Danny's lap. "In basic terms… we think you're the Lux Mori's next victim… meal per say." King did mock jazz hands. Danny sighed. "Of course."

Danny stayed quiet for a second. "What makes you say that anyway?"

"Try using one of your powers." Eda remarked.

Danny raised a eyebrow and stood up. He attempted to float up, and he did for a few inches, but suddenly it seemed like the ability cut off as Danny fell flat on the ground.

Danny fell backwards, so he was looking up at the ceiling as Luz, Gus and Willow leaned over him.

"You okay?" Luz asked.

"Yep." Danny replied.

Luz, Gus and Willow helped Danny up to his feet.

"Also, the Lux Mori seemed to realize you were injured when it got close to you." Principle Bump pointed out. "Meaning it has some kind of connection with you."

"And now we have more of a reason then ever to stop that thing." Eda commented.

"But how?" Luz asked.

Eda looked down. "I'm not sure… but we'll figure it out!"

By the way Danny was acting, Eda could easily tell he was worried and upset, and that was evident from the worried look he gave her after she said that they'll figured out how to stop the Lux Mori.

"Let's go home and get some rest." Eda added on. "Everything will be okay." Eda hoped.

Eda had good intentions, Danny knew that, and he appreciated her for that fact, but Danny also knew that Eda didn't know what she was doing, and that she didn't have a plan, and this worried Danny.

Danny stayed awake for most of the night, pacing back and fourth, lost in deep thought.

Hooty must of felt Danny pacing back and fourth in his room as eventually he extended his head into Danny's room.

"Sup Ghost King…??" Hooty questioned as he peaked into Danny's room.

Danny glanced at him, rolled his eyes and continued pacing back and fourth.

"I can feel you pacing back and fourth Ghost King, something on your mind?" Hooty questioned as he tilted his head.

Danny ignored him still.

Hooty frowned at this and positioned himself in Danny path.

"Ghost King?" Hooty said as he served into Danny's way.

Danny ducked and walked under Hooty, still ignoring him.

Hooty turned and called out to Danny. "Ghost King? Ghost King!?" Hooty looked down in thought. "Maybe it's the name you're refusing to respond to… I need a different nickname…" Hooty looked up exitedly. "OH! I have a name… Dan!!"

Danny stopped pacing, his eyes wide. Danny spun around to face Hooty, and in a stern whisper he replied "Don't you ever, call me that AGAIN."

Danny's eyes quickly flashed green at the end of his sentence.

Hooty starred at Danny for a second, dumbstruck.

"Wait… why?" Hooty asked.

"You don't need to know why, you just need to NOT call me by the name ever again, understood?" Danny said with a sarcastic smile.

Hooty nodded his head in understandment.

"So…" Hooty begun. "What are you doing up this late at night, friend?" Hooty said as he extended towards Danny, wrapping his body around the room.

Danny groaned. "None of your business dude, shouldn't you go back… guarding the door or whatever you do at night?"

"I work as the emotional support owl demon!" Hooty replied.

"I seriously doubt that." Danny remarked under his breath.

"And it's my duty to make sure everyone in this house is mentally stable…. cake?"

Danny raised a eyebrow. "Cake?" He questioned.

"Yep!" Hooty replied.

He started to cough, and after a few seconds he regurgitated a full birthday cake, he coughed some more and spat out three lit birthday candles.

Danny starred at the cake with both dismay and amazement.

"Where did that come from… never mind." He remarked. "I don't want any regurgitated cake."

Hooty smiled. "Okay, your lost!" And then he inhaled the cake, birthday candles and all.

Danny gagged a bit as he watched. "Oh, are you gonna regurgitate some cake?" Hooty asked as he noticed Danny gagging.

"Not cake, but I feel like regurgitating breakfast." Danny replied.

"Fun!" Hooty replied.

Danny sighed. "Okay, so are you just gonna be here or what?" Danny asked as he looked at Hooty.

Hooty wrapped around Danny. "You wanna hear a bedtime story? That helps me when I can't sleep." Hooty remarked as he bonded Danny's arms and legs together.

Danny struggled to free himself. "Not-really he remarked."

Hooty smiled, "Too bad, because you have nowhere to run!"

Then Hooty began to tell his story. "Once upon a time, there was a prince… or was it a king? Or a princess, or possibly a queen…. I don't know, but there was a person!"

Danny managed to free one arm, and began to try to push himself out of Hooty's grasp.

"Anyhoot." Hooty began again. "There was a person of some sorts, a handsome… Owl! Named Hooty, who went on tones of fun adventures!"

"So you're self inserting." Danny remarked as he was attempting to wiggle free.

Hooty wrapped around Danny again, trapping his out stretched arm. "Anyhoot…" Hooty began again.

Hooty was busy rambling on about some story on how he traveled the lands and deleted the ill-fated giraffes, Danny wasn't sure, he wasn't really listening.

"And then I ate a bird." Hooty finally ended with.

Danny, who's arm was starting to fall asleep due to its odd position, was sitting there staring at Hooty.

"Great story dude…" Danny sarcastically replied. "Can you let go of me now? My arm is going numb. Hooty unraveled, allowing Danny to be free.

Danny dropped to the ground, shaking his arm out, he looked at Hooty who was watching him.

"What was the point of your story again?" Danny questioned.

"There was no point." Hooty replied. "I just wanted to tell it."

Danny looked at Hooty, tilting his head. "You're really lonely, aren't you?"

A look of surprise came across Hooty's face. "What? No!" He replied. "I have tons of friends, like Eda, Luz, King…," Hooty stared right at Danny. "You."

Danny shivered, Hooty was getting on his nerves, and partially creeping him out, but in the end he knew Hooty was harmless, just weird.

"Right…" Danny remarked.

An awkward silence erupted between Danny and Hooty. After a second, Danny bit his lip.

"You wanna know why I hate the name Dan?" Danny finally reluctantly said.

Hooty's face lighted up as he gasped in excitement. "Really? Yes!"

Danny sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, just promise you won't tell anyone."

Hooty nodded his head. "Consider your promise kept!"

Danny hesitated for a moment, then told Hooty about Dan.

Authors Note:

Me: Okay, I've been on vacation and haven't had the time to update this, okay?

Danny: Or you forgot about the story.

Me: I didn't! Mostly.

Eda: You're not a really reliable author, are you?

Me: Am too!… probably, I just get distracted with other stories… but I plan on sticking to this story to the bitter end!

Danny: I doubt that's happening…

Me: Oh, you watch Fenton! I'm sticking to the end, I promise! Now onwards!

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