#but it can't survive two years in a row

[oofthwoods]

DEBUTANTE! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: derived from the french language, meaning “a first performance or showing.” the original word debutante referred to a new actress making her first appearance on the stage. or, the one where dreams come true in bahrain.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: just a little bonus, but i picture jasper as kingsley ben-adir (secret invasion, barbie). if this is the first work of mine you're checking, reader is a driver for porsche and the daughter of rubens barrichello!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 5.5k

NO ONE ASKED HER A QUESTION IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.

Naturally, there were many questions about her. How did the drivers feel about a woman joining their ranks on the track? What were their thoughts on the growing number of female fans who were tuning in to watch Formula One, possibly due to the popularity of the documentary Drive to Survive or the historic moment of having the first female driver in decades?

She wasn't sure if this was better or worse than she anticipated. She vividly recalled her first press conference last year when she was still driving for ART Grand Prix. They asked her ridiculous questions like whether it was professional to wear skirts in the paddock (yes), who the most attractive driver was (herself, obviously), and even if her father was disappointed that she reached a milestone in motorsport before her older brother (Dudu, who raced with their father in Brazilian Stock Series. And no, he had already made it clear he was proud of both of them).

In the first few minutes, she assumed it was because she was a rookie. But then Oscar Piastri answered a fair share of questions while looking at her as if he didn't understand why people were treating her like an invisible presence. She would shrug her shoulders and the australian reluctantly answered reporters' inquiries.

She was sandwiched between Lewis, who seemed impatient as time dragged on without any questions directed towards her, and Max Verstappen, who quickly responded to his own questions and showed his eagerness to leave. Two rookies, two world champions, but only three drivers deemed important enough for interviews.

The world-renowned champion's frustration peaked when asked about his recent vacation activities.

"Is this a joke?" he asked. "Do you really want to know what I did on my vacation more than asking her interesting questions?" He gestured towards the girl beside him.

"It's alright, Lewis-"

"With all due respect, Hamilton," one of the reporters interjected with a sarcastic smirk on his face. "I can't imagine what kind of questions we could ask Miss Barrichello besides her makeup preferences or favorite clothing brands."

"How about the fact that I won four championships in a row as a rookie?" She responded with a fake sweet smile plastered on her face. She could accept to be ignored, but she refused to be underestimated. "Or maybe any questions about Porsche joining the grid this year?"

"I don't think winning a championship by such a small margin of points is anything to be praised." The reporter retorted. His expression implied that he wasn't expecting the young girl to comfort him, but he couldn't hold back.

"Really? So we should just say that the battle between Max and Lewis in 2021-" she indicated towards them "-was nothing worth celebrating? Such an uneventful year for this sport."

Verstappen leaned forward, observing the interaction between the girl and the reporter. This press conference just became much more interesting.

"Strong words from someone who has never stepped foot in a race car." He chimed in, agreeing with the youngest person in the room.

"That's not what I meant." The reporter stuttered, noticing the security chief slowly approaching him. The middle-aged man was one of many security guards in the paddock that had known the driver since she was a child, and she knew that one look in his direction and the man would be escorted out.

"Of course, of course," she replied sarcastically. "You mean it's not worth celebrating because a woman won, right? Please, if you're going to insult me, at least try to make it believable. Or better yet, don't speak if you have no idea what you're talking about"

The tension in the room was palpable as another reporter spoke up, "But Y/n, let's be real here. The races were mostly dominated by your teammate, Frederik Vesti or runner-up Felipe Drugovich. Your victories were purely tactical."

She leaned back in her chair with a smug smile playing on her lips. "Is that so? Yet somehow I managed to come out on top every time."

Verstappen nodded in agreement, "She's definitely got a point there."

The press room fell into an intense quiet, causing y/n to regret her decision to do this interview. She knew that this type of situation would become more common as her fame grew in the coming year. She also understood that Lewis would be praised for defending her while she would face criticism for simply standing up for herself against a man who was only doing his job.

The silence was broken by a female journalist in the back, hidden behind the larger, more muscular bodies of her male counterparts. But y/n could never mistake that blonde hair for anyone else. Mariana Becker was a veteran sports reporter, an icon in Brazilian journalism, and a role model for any woman breaking into a male-dominated field.

“I wish I had raised my hand earlier; I didn't realize it would take so long for someone to ask you a question,” she chuckled. "I don't think anyone will object to two questions, right?" The woman looked around the room, and the other interviewers avoided making eye contact with the veteran.

"So, y/n, you've been asked countless times about being a woman in a male-dominated world and the difficulties you face because of it. However, with such a successful junior career full of records, I honestly don't see the need to ask that question again. Instead, I'd like to focus on the positive aspects. What does it mean to you knowing that a new generation of girls can look up to you as an inspiration and be motivated to pursue their dreams?"

The girl's face lit up with gratefulness for the refreshing question and relief that she wouldn't have to answer the same question she had already answered countless times before.

"It's incredibly inspiring for me as well. Growing up in this environment, surrounded by racing cars, I was also discouraged from pursuing this career. But I can only imagine how much more difficult it must have been for young girls who were ridiculed just for dreaming of driving a go-kart. To know that I can play a role in encouraging them to follow their dreams without fear of judgment is truly exciting."

Lewis subtly raised his thumb in a gesture of approval while she chuckled.

"Excellent," said the reporter with a smile. "One more question, how did your father react when you told him you were entering the world of Formula 1?"

"He cried," y/n answered quickly, eliciting laughter from those in the room. "He's quite the crybaby, so I waited until we were together to share the news of my contract with Porsche. At first, he cried tears of joy, then fear, and eventually a mixture of both. That's when he realized that all three of his children were following in his footsteps as race car drivers and that he'd have to pay for everything he put his own father through."

The reporter chuckled along with y/n. Mari had interviewed Rubens back when he was in Formula 1, and remembers clearly how emotional the man always was. The conference went on like this for another half an hour, with y/n answering everything from her expectations for the upcoming season to her favorite tracks and how she dealt with pressure.

The balaclava, damp with sweat, clung tightly to her face as she stood at attention. Her race engineer, a tall black man with a buzzcut and a calm expression, waited patiently beside her. She smoothed down the folds of her crisp, red-and-black uniform, adorned with her country's flag on the sleeve.

"How was the conference?" Jasper asked.

The girl muttered something that Jasper couldn't make out. "That bad? Did they bring up the issue with wearing skirts in the paddock again?"

"They didn't ask anything at first, but then one guy made a comment about me winning the championship by a narrow margin of points not being worthy of praise. Except it wasn't even a narrow margin; Felipe finished about sixty points behind me., and Fred was more than a hundred points behind, despite driving the same car as me" She complained.

Jasper winced. The relationship between the engineer and the driver had been amazing during pre-season tests with the man acting like a friend and a mentor, and they had found a groove to envy.

"You'll need to come up with a strategy for dealing with these reporters," Jasper advised.

"I already have one."

"Really?" He glanced at the clock on the track and realized that time was running out. He handed her the helmet with both hands. She grinned and smoothly put it on. The colors of her country's flag stood out against the black and red of the car, making it impossible to miss.

"Yes. WWJD."

"What does that stand for?"

"What Would Jenson Do. Originally, it was "What Would Kimi Do," but I quickly realized that Kimi would just tell everyone to go fuck themselves, and I can't exactly do that yet."

The garage was a whirlwind of activity, with mechanics frantically making last-minute adjustments and drivers strapping into their cars. The scent of gasoline and burning rubber wafted through the air, adding to the excitement and tension that crackled in the atmosphere.

Everywhere she looked, there were people moving with purpose, each one focused on their individual tasks to ensure a successful first qualifying session of the season. The roar of engines being revved and tools clanging against metal filled her ears, drowning out any other sound. It was a chaotic but exhilarating scene as the countdown to the race began.

"Why not "What Would Rubens Do"?" He asked.

She chuckled. "My dad is too nice. In his only fight in his entire Formula 1 career, he told the mechanic who wanted to fight him to get someone else because he was too small."

Jasper's phone buzzed insistently, jolting him out of his thoughts and reminding him that only five minutes remained until the start of Q1. After the last few adjustments from the mechanics, y/n managed to squeeze into her car and secure her seatbelt. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her body as she prepared for the intense competition ahead.

Jasper rested his arms on the halo. "Don't forget what we discussed earlier," he reminded her. "In Q1, six cars will be eliminated, followed by six more in Q2. This means that the top ten fastest cars will battle for pole position. Based on our data, we are definitely faster than Alpha Tauri, Alfa Romeo, Haas, and Williams - a total of eight cars."

The girl nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to the man as he continued. "At the very least, you and Mick should be able to make it into Q2. We're not sure how Alpine and McLaren are doing, but they don't seem to be as quick as us." He gestured towards the track outside where the other teams were busy with their own preparations. "But we can't let our guard down. Anything can happen during quali." The tension was palpable as they both waited for their turn on the track.

"So, we're trying for Q3 then?" She inquired, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.

"Officially, I was instructed to tell you that Q2 is sufficient, but we can't know our full potential until we're on the track."

A sly grin appeared on her face, hidden behind her helmet. She pushed down her visor, ready to give it her all. "Well, I say let's aim for Q3 then. I want to see what this car can really do."

A gentle laugh escaped Jasper's lips, his eyes shining with admiration. "That's the spirit, echo. Show them what you're made of."

With one final nod, y/n shifted her focus, tuning out the noise and commotion of the pit lane. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, using all her senses to ground herself in the present moment. The smell of burning rubber and gasoline filled her nostrils as she visualized the track ahead. The deafening roar of the engine drowned out all other sounds, sending shivers down her spine.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio in her ear, sounding like a distant robot. "Radio check," he said, his tone serious and business-like.

She adjusted gloves as she responded, "I hear you loud and clear." Her hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel as she followed Logan Sargeant's Williams out of the pit lane. It was a tight squeeze with the Porsche garage being the newest addition to the grid. She bit her lip, hoping that their placement in the pit lane wouldn't cause any trouble in the future.

"Great. Warm up your tires and then do a flying lap. We want to get a better idea of our potential and avoid any possible disruptions from a Red Flag," Jasper instructed.

"Roger that," she replied, trying to keep her breathing steady as cars started to move around her. She prayed that the onboard camera wouldn't catch her trembling hands as she prepared for her first real lap on the track.

The engine roared to life as she pressed down on the accelerator, gripping the steering wheel with determination. The car surged forward, its tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving a trail of smoke behind. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses as she focused on the task at hand.

The wind whipped through, carrying with it a symphony of sounds—engines revving, tires squealing, and the distant cheers of the crowd. Her heart pounded in sync with the rhythm of the track, each beat pulsating through her chest.

As the cars whizzed by, she made a conscious effort to stay out of their way while completing her out lap. It was her first Grand Prix, and she wasn't about to receive an impeding penalty. She could feel the engine roaring to life and her car responding with precision, its tires getting ready to set a time that would hopefully secure her from elimination in the initial round.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Alright, you're good to go. Try your best," he encouraged, his voice filled with unwavering support.

"Copy." She smirked.

The pre-tests and free practice had prepared her for what was to come, but nothing could have truly prepared her for the exhilaration of sitting behind the wheel of a Formula 1 car. The engine purred like a fierce beast, ready to unleash its power at any moment. The sleek body of the car hugged the track, cutting through the air with precision and grace.

As she approached the first turn, she braked hard, shifting her weight to navigate the corner with precision. The G-forces pressed against her body, threatening to tear her away from reality. But she held firm, refusing to let anything distract her from the objective ahead.

She feathered the throttle, feeling the car respond to her slightest movements. The tires gripped the track, providing a sense of stability as she accelerated out of the turn, leaving her the other car trailing behind. Y/n's focus was unwavering, her eyes fixated on the next set of corners, mentally calculating her approach.

The flying lap was over in an instant, and the sound of the cheering crowd filled her ears as she crossed the finish line and set her initial time.

"Way to go, girl!" Jasper's voice crackled through the radio. "You've got P8, I repeat, P8. We're safely into Q2, but stay on track just in case. Prepare for another quick lap."

"How did Mick do?" she asked eagerly.

"P10, 0.78 seconds behind you," Jasper's voice was filled with pride as he responded. Despite his efforts to maintain professionalism, they were both rookies in the Formula 1 world, even if in different roles. "I got a great feeling about us, Barrichello. This could be the beginning of something legendary."

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she waited for the race to begin and she started to feel claustrophobic inside her cramped driver's room.

Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, she stepped outside into the bustling garage. The sight of her team, clad in matching uniforms and working tirelessly on their cars, brought a small smile to her face. As she made her way through the maze of mechanics and equipment, she was greeted with reassuring smiles and words of encouragement.

This was not just her first race, but also the team's inaugural race. In a way, they were all rookies, feeling the pressure and nerves just as she was.

Standing outside, it was clear that several eyes were on her. Some, like the veteran Ferrari mechanics who had known her since she was a little girl, flashed comforting smiles and gave her thumbs up, wishing her the best of luck. Others raised their eyebrows with skepticism, as if they believed her presence on the grid was some sort of elaborate prank that hadn't been revealed yet.

Amidst a sea of red and black uniforms, the bright green outfit of the two-time world champion stood out prominently. Fernando paid no mind to the curious glances from his mechanics as he made his way confidently towards the girl.

"You're not allowed in here, Alonso." She teased, playfully crossing her arms in a gesture that made her seem much older than she was.

"Is that how it is now? You qualify in the Top 10 in your first race and all of a sudden I'm just Alonso, not Nando?" He responded with a chuckle. Clutching his heart dramatically, he leaned back as if struck by sudden agony. "What happened to all our pizza days? They meant nothing to you?"

The character she was playing no longer felt right to her, and the words she spoke didn't align with the expression on her face. She fought to suppress a smile as she continued, "That person you knew, Alonso? She is gone now."

As the man approached, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity wash over her. His dark hair and intense brown eyes were etched into her memory, but it was his infectious smile that brought back a flood of childhood memories.

Fernando rested his hands on her shoulders and held onto his helmet, which puzzled her. With only a few minutes left before the race began, he could have easily stored it in his own garage rather than carrying it around. But she pushed those thoughts aside as his gaze softened and he spoke.

"You were the size of a flea when I met you," he said with a chuckle. She smiled at the memory of their first encounter. She had been just six years old at the time, tagging along with her father to one of his races. She remembered being mesmerized by the speed and energy of the cars on the track, but also feeling a little intimidated by the loud noises and bustling crowds.

But then she saw him – Alonso – standing tall and proud in his racesuit. He had noticed her watching him from behind the fence and had flashed her a tight smile. Somehow, from that one interaction, she had become a fan. From then on, whenever she visited the track with her father, she would always seek out Fernando.

Initially, the Spaniard couldn't comprehend why the young girl found him so intriguing. He knew he was talented and quick on the race track, but children were not his forte. Alonso would often try to distance himself from the girl, offering only friendly waves and smiles. However, when she presented him with a drawing of himself on the podium with a trophy (which he still keeps today), everything changed.

"You used to avoid me like the plague," she recalled.

"That's not entirely true," Fernando denied, but quickly changed his tune when the girl raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I wasn't too fond of being followed around by a little girl. Can you blame me? If anything happened to you, I would have to deal with your father, Michael, Kimi, and all the mechanics that you had wrapped around your finger."

He became somewhat of figure between an older brother and a father figure to her, always ready with words of encouragement and advice.

Now here they were, both grown up and about to race against each other for the very first time.

"I can't believe we're finally racing against each other," she said with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

"It's about time," Fernando replied with a smirk. "I've been waiting for this moment since you beat me in go-karts."

A smile tugged at her lips as she recalled the moment. During one of his trips with her family to cheer her on during her junior career, they decided to have some fun and race go-karts. She had managed to beat him by mere thousandths of a second, and she made sure to remind him of it constantly afterwards.

"What's on the agenda for today, Mija?" He asked, looking around at the girl's garage.

"Hah, like I would share that with you. I love you, Nando, but now we're competitors." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're just trying to take advantage because we're close."

"You got me." He chuckled, knowing it wasn't entirely true.

She sighed and crossed her arms with a hesitant expression. "Rule number one is to not crash into Mick. Number two is to avoid crashing into anyone else. Our team isn't expecting a stellar performance, so if we can maintain our starting positions, both cars will score points. That's our main goal."

"Oh, come on. Don't you want to try overtaking someone?" he prodded.

Y/N laughed. "Why? You want to see me in your rearview mirror?"

"Of course I do," he admitted. "Competing for a win with you would be incredible."

He pushed his helmet towards the girl, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Confused, she tilted her head in question. “I appreciate the gift, but I think you’ll need it today.”

Fernando laughed, memories flooding back to him. “Remember when your dad retired and you started coming to races with me?”

The memories flooded back, of her father's days in the high-stakes world of Formula 1. Though he had since retired, Fernando still managed to convince Rubens to allow her to travel with him to races closer to her home, and sometimes even to the grand prix in his homeland.

She quickly caught on to his request and playfully darted away from him before snagging the helmet. It had become a tradition since she was ten years old, and Fernando had unofficially taken on the role of her godfather. She used to do this same routine with her own father, so it felt natural to continue with the spaniard. He stood there, slightly perplexed, wondering if he had said or done something wrong. But just moments later, the young girl returned with her own helmet in hand.

"Wouldn't it be fair for you to do the same for me this time?" she asked playfully.

The two exchanged helmets and planted a kiss on the part of the helmet that would soon cover each other's foreheads.

"Stay safe, Nando"

"You too. Give us hell"

"It's an easy overtake for Barrichello in the Porsche, and she takes the position from Lance Stroll in the Aston Martin!" David Croft's voice rings across the circuit, and the crowd roars, the flags from her country and Germany flying around.

"Great job!" The voice of her race engineer appears in her ear, breaking through her intense concentration. "Russell is 1.2 ahead, close the gap to be able to use DRS when it is enabled."

"Copy" she nods, instinctively, her eyes never leaving the track ahead. She knows what she needs to do, and she pushes her car to its limits, weaving through the curves and straights with precision and skill.

As she closes the gap between her and the british driver, she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She's in her element, in the midst of the intense competition that she lives for.

"0.7. Go for it, elbows out" Jasper said again.

The cheers of the pit crew resounded in her ears as she used the extra boost to overtake the Mercedes. It was a challenge to defend against George's attempts at whiplash and reclaim her position, but once they were off the main straight, she managed to create a considerable gap between them.

The rest of the race flew by in a blur. The girl lost track of her position, constantly overtaking some cars only to be overtaken shortly after. However, Jasper's encouraging words kept her going.

Jasper's voice crackled through the radio as she approached the final stretch of the race. "Virtual safety car, slow down," he instructed.

She quickly checked her rearview mirror, looking for her teammate. "Is it ours?" she asked.

"No, it's Leclerc in the Ferrari," Jasper replied, "which puts us in fifth place."

She could see Hamilton was more than five seconds behind, and the yellow flag meant that Alonso was slowing down ahead of her.

"As soon as the VSC is lifted, you'll have a clear shot to overtake," Jasper added.

Who would have thought that she would be right on Fernando's heels after all?

After a few laps of caution due to the previous incident, the green flags were waved and she wasted no time in accelerating towards the Aston Martin driven by the Spaniard. She steadily closed the gap between them until she was right behind him. However, just as she was about to make a move to pass him, he outmaneuvered Carlos Sainz's Ferrari.

In a swift and calculated maneuver, she positioned her car on the inside of Sainz, who seemed too focused on reclaiming his position to check his mirrors. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse of attention, she quickly overtook him.

Jasper's voice was filled with excitement as he shouted, "That's it, echo! What a fantastic move!" She could almost hear the smile in his tone. "Alonso is already ten seconds ahead, so concentrate on defending now."

The final laps seemed like a blur, the girl steadily increasing the gap between her and the Ferrari with each lap.

"It's a flawless performance from Porsche, with both cars scoring points on this historic day. Mick Schumacher equals his best career finish with an incredible P6, and Y/N Barrichello takes fourth place, becoming the first woman to score in a Formula 1 race since Lella Lombardi and achieving the highest position for a woman in history!"

The sound of the bustling cheers from the Porsche garage fills her ears as she struggled to park the car with trembling hands. “Unbelievable! P4, y/n, P4! We scored 21 points and Mick got the fastest lap. What a start,” Jasper exclaims over the radio.

She stepped out of the car on shaky legs and is immediately greeted by Carlos, who had parked his car behind hers. “Where did you come from?” he asked with a chuckle. “I was trying to overtake Fernando, and suddenly you were right beside me.”

She took off her helmet and balaclava, her hair damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead and neck. She culdn't help but laugh. "Next time, check your mirrors," She teases her good-naturedly.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. The sweat that coated both of them didn't matter, nor did the fact that she still needed to weigh herself. She squeezed Mick even tighter and they both seemed too overjoyed to let go.

He took a step back but kept his arms around her. "Fourth place in your first race! I told you not to worry," the German exclaimed proudly.

"And look who's talking with the fastest lap!" She laughed in agreement. "We did it, Mick. We fucking did it."

A bottle of water suddenly appeared in her line of sight, and she turned to thank the person who handed it to her. To her surprise, it was Lewis with a smile on his face.

"If you had just overtaken one more person, you would have joined the club," he joked, pointing to Kevin Magnussem, who appeared to be deep in conversation with his teammate. "It was quite a race for the two of you."

"Honestly, I wasn't expecting to end up anywhere higher than where I started, so P4 is already a great achievement," she replied with a laugh as she took the cold bottle from him. The girl then turned to Lewis again and asked about his own race.

"P7. Mick managed to pass me on the last lap," he responded, glancing over at the young driver who chuckled in response.

The adrenaline was still pumping through her veins as y/n made her way to the weighing machines. She couldn't believe it, a P4 finish on her debut race. It seemed like a dream come true.

She stepped onto the scales, trying to calm her racing heart. The number flashed on the screen, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, just made it," she muttered to herself.

Grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat from her face, she quickly discarded her race suit at her hips, and made her way to her garage in her white fireproofs.

To an outsider, it might have seemed like the team had just won a world championship, not a P6 and P4. People were clapping her on the back and embracing Mick, and she struggled to decipher the various voices exclaiming with joy.

Jasper appeared in front of her with a bottle of champagne in hand. "Congratulations y/n, you did amazing out there!" he exclaimed before popping open the bottle and spraying champagne everywhere.

She laughed as some of the bubbly liquid hit her skin. "Thanks Jasper! I couldn't have done it without your perfect strategy. Great call with the tyres"

He grinned at her before turning serious. "But seriously y/n, you did a great job out there. We're all so proud of you." The rest of the team joined them in cheers and congratulations.

Before they could continue their conversation, Adrian, the team principle, arrived at their garage looking ecstatic. "Great job everyone! A double-points finish for our debut race, this is just the beginning." He raised his glass of champagne before taking a sip.

Y/n looked around and couldn't help but feel proud of her team. They had come a long way since their first tests together. And now here they were, competing in one of the most prestigious racing championships in the world.

Adrian turned to her with a smile. "Y/n, I must say you exceeded all expectations today. You have proven yourself as a valuable addition to our team." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Keep up the good work."

She couldn't help but blush at his words and nod gratefully. This was everything she had ever dreamed of - to be part of a successful racing team and make her mark in the sport.

As the celebrations continued, y/n couldn't help but think about how far she had come. From fighting for sponsorships to competing against some of the best drivers in the world, it felt like a dream come true.

But amidst all the excitement and joy, there was still one thing weighing on her mind - her family. She missed them terribly and wished they could be here to witness her success.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

"Muito orgulhoso de você filhota. Eu sabia que você ia arrasar! Me liga quando acabar tudo aí" — PAPAI. (so so proud of you, baby. i knew you would rock it! call me once you're done with everything there.)

Soon after, her older brother's name appeard on her phone as well. A quick congrats was followed by a video. Tapping on it, she couldn't contain the tears as she watched her father by the TV, holding tightly their flag and exploding in joy as the checkered flag was waved and his daughter finished in fourth.

He erupted with happiness, leaping and embracing her siblings and close friends who had gathered to witness her debut. He would excitedly point towards the television, shouting with pride, "There she is! My little girl!"

A big smile crept onto her face as she quickly replied back with an update on how things were, and a promise to video call her family as soon as she was cleared from the media.

"Time for the boring stuff now. Ready for the interviews?" Mick pulled her out of her thoughts. He had his phone on his hand, and she imagined he was also communicating with his family. "I can go first, if you want."

She took a deep breath, and smiled. "It's okay, i'll go. There's nothing they can say that could ruin my day. Not anymore."

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3) :: @studioreader, @fanficweasley, @stinkyjax, @namgification, @judespoision, @cha-hot, @disneyprincemuke, @itsjustkhaos, @trouble-sistar, @ihateyougunthersteiner, @treehouse-mouse, @cherry-piee, @fangirl125reader, @cassie0sstuff

#f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 scenarios #f1 x reader #fem!driver reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 scenarios #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagines #f1 fanfic #x reader #formula one x reader #driver reader #f1 x fem!driver #fem!driver #mick schumacher x reader #fernando alonso x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #⋆⠀᰷ ֹ 🍙 ˓ the echo ﹗

[iam93percentstardust]

one of the things that i loved about barbie (2023) that i think a lot of the posts making fun of male-written reviews miss is that, though the movie presents itself as a commentary on the patriarchy and sexism, the message at the core of the film isn't actually limited to being about (cis) women. it's about anyone who is Other.

i went to go see the movie on thursday afternoon before all the big midnight premieres, and the theater was still packed. there wasn't an empty seat in the entire theater. i had a seat at the end of the row, which i had picked out in a faint (futile) hope that no one would sit next to me. thirty seconds before the trailers started, a family of about 10 black people walked in and split up, presumably because they'd only just bought their tickets and there were no longer 10 seats together. the dad and the son, who was maybe a few years younger than me in his early-20s, a good foot and a half taller than me, and who i recognized as one of the football players at the local university, ended up taking the two empty seats next to me with the linebacker in the seat right next to me. and that was pretty much the last time i thought of them until the last twenty minutes of the movie.

see, in the last twenty minutes of the movie, america ferrera makes an impassioned speech about not just the limitations that male-dominated society puts on women but the limitations that women put on themselves in order to survive in said male-dominated society. it's about the contradictions that we're subjected to--you can't be too much, but you can't be too little either. you have to lift each other up but you're also in constant competition with other women for the shredded dregs of respect that men have left over for us. you can't say yes to a man because then you're a whore but you can't say no because then you're a prude. it was passionate and bitter and furious and it had every woman in the theater, myself included, in tears.

and in the silence of the theater following america ferrera's plea for barbie not to make herself less just so that society isn't threatened by her, the linebacker sitting next to me said fervently, "i feel that."

it brought everything to a screeching halt. now i'm a white woman, and though i'm fat and nowhere near as gorgeous as margot robbie, from the very first trailer, it was obvious that this was going to be a movie for me. and if done right, it was going to be a movie for all women (and i would argue that it was). but the thing that it also did right was that though the surface of the message was about women making themselves lesser, the core was that it was for anyone who makes themselves lesser to fit in. yeah, it's for women who are trying to fit into a male-dominated society, but it's also for bipoc who are trying to fit into a white-dominated society. it's for trans people trying to fit into a cis-dominated society. it's for gay people trying to fit into a heterosexual-dominated society. it's for anyone who's been Othered and has to shrink themselves in a desperate attempt to survive.

i love the posts making fun of male-written reviews that are butthurt that this movie isn't for them just as much as the next person. but i think it's important that we don't forget that those are representative of the people in power, the people that could never understand this message. barbie is for me, yeah, but it isn't just for me. it's for my trans friend who is six feet tall and has a beard and wears pink dresses every single day because they make her feel pretty. it's for my labmate who could practically be a barbie herself and irritates me every time she talks about thinphobia but also can't find someone who wants to be with her because she's brilliant and not because she's beautiful.

it's for the black linebacker who sat next to me in the theater and felt heard when a fictional character in a movie told him not to make himself smaller just to fit society's standards.

#barbie #barbie spoilers #barbie 2023

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [2]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, daddy issues, idk how one lives with zero gravity, barely proofread

Word count: 2,3k

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What actually took six years didn't feel like that to you at all. One moment you closed your eyes as you were put into cryosleep and after what felt like one second passed, you got woken up from your deep slumber. The claustrophobic space you are in makes something inside of you itch. Good thing you were into cryosleep, you couldn't have survived sleeping in this tube every night for six years in a row. Once your tube was pulled out of the wall, you immediately feel yourself floating. So this is what space felt like.

"Drink and eat lots, since you will feel very weak!", a loud voice echoes through the room as one by one everyone left their cryosleep. You float through the room with a smile on your face as you hold onto handles, lockers, anything to keep your balance. An excited scream could be heard from behind you, it was your friend Raja. "You are not dead I see," she jokes as she floats towards you, her arms wide open to invite you in a hug, "this is honestly insane, I can't believe that we are actually doing this!" You wrap your arms around you as you share her excitement, "I know right? We worked so hard for this, I can't believe this is happening." You met Raja on your first day being at the resistance base. She shared her passion for nature with pride and you always admired her for this. A cough is heard behind your back and Raja looks over your shoulder to see who it was, "Seb!" she squeals as she carefully gets out of your hug, floating towards their other friend to engulf him in a hug. You watch as Raja and Seb share their excitement with each other. They really didn't age at all while being in cryosleep, such an interestingly concept it was. You float towards them, holding onto Seb's shoulder to keep your balance and not pass out, because damn they were right. You feel so tired and weak. If you weren't in space right now you probably would have fallen to the floor. Your limbs felt like cooked noodles, you really needed to eat. "The trio is back at it again to cause havoc!!" Seb ruffles your head, your hair tangling in between his fingers as he did so. The three of you were the inseparable trio. While you had a group of friends you hung out with, you three always just stuck together like glue. It may have been the fact you bonded over being reckless warriors, thriving on the thrill and action, or the fact all three of you were top students, but that doesn't matter. Raja and Seb are your partners in crime til death do you all part. The two are engaged in a deep conversation, but you didn't bother to listen or chime in. You wanted to explore, and see what you worked your entire teenagehood for. Grabbing onto the handle against the walls, you made your way towards the huge window, were also most of the crew was floating around. You had to see this for yourself, you had to believe it with your own eyes. What if you were still dreaming?

"Excuse me, Pardon me!", still not used to not having any gravity, you keep bumping into other warriors. A 'watch where you're going!' was screamed your way, but you paid no mind to it as you had more important things to do. Floating past the last person that kept you from seeing outside, your eyes immediately widen at the beauty that lay in front of you. A planet, looking exactly like earth, right in front of you. It was beautiful, the true meaning behind mother nature. You bring your hand towards your cheek to pinch yourself, was this real? Were you truly experiencing this? When you pinched yourself so hard, leaving a red mark on your skin, and you didn't wake up you knew this was real. You were knocked out of your senses pretty quickly, as everyone was told to dress up, eat and get together in the common area. Where that was? No idea, but what you knew is that you were excited as hell. You basically swam through the air towards the lockers, where your supposed gear would be. The sight was probably incredibly silly, you thought, you probably looked like a swimming frog. Yet you didn't care about the stares that were given you. The only thing on your mind was to see Pandora with your own eyes— not out of books, notes you had to read, or drawings. You left without telling Seb or Raja, but you would probably find them, considering you're going to the same destination and those two definitely weren't to miss.

You float past all the lockers with nameplates, looking for your name. You were told that they were in alphabetic order. Last name. You could never escape him, could you? You proceed to float, using the lockers to pull yourself up and speed up towards the lockers that start with 'S'. Upon floating in front of the name that haunted you every day, you sigh and slam the locker open. Clothes sealed in recycled plastic, a pair of shoes, and an oxygen mask. Fortunately, it wasn't those old aquarium-like masks. When you learned about those you thought they were ugly as hell: a head in an aquarium. Those were designed like gas masks. Was that the best way to explain them? They only covered the mouth and nose part to breathe properly, it didn't cover the entire face anymore. You flash a skeptical expression towards the clothes in your arms. They were dark colors, dark colors in a hot amazon-like forest? If it were up to you, you wouldn't have chosen a little more, bare, clothes. For the sweat to at least dry up and not soak in the clothes. "Weird choice of clothes, right?", Raja appeared next to you, out of the blue, making you flinch. You quickly managed to cover it up and compose yourself, "I'm gonna end up looking like a crab while fighting a villain, kind of embarrassing." she laughs at your reply and grabs a hold of your forearm, "come on let's go change. Seb already went to change!" And with that, your friend pulls you with her. Changing your clothes was kind of awkward. The room was a big space where all women changed next to one another. It gave PE class vibes. You felt sticky and disgusting as you changed out of the clothes you wore for six years. Wearing fresh, clean clothes is always better than nothing. The material feels nice against your skin, and very cooling. As you look in the mirror, fixing every detail to look as neat as possible. You roll your sleeves up just a tad bit and tried to loosen the corset-like clothing piece around your upper body. It doesn't look exactly like a corset, but it's one of those clothing pieces that have a corset built into it. The mask is hanging against your hip, ready to be used 24/7 once you stepped foot on Pandora. The pants were a little wide thankfully, enough space to move into. "What is it with the corset though? Who wears a corset while fighting?" "Maybe it's bulletbroof or something?"

After this whole ordeal in the dressing room with some people whining about the clothes being too hot, while others were second guessing if the outfit was nice to fight in, you finally made your way towards this common area. There everyone was awkwardly sitting, what one could call sitting in space. Everyone was given a granola bar to snack on and a sealed bag with a sweet drink in it. You leaned against Seb, as you were too tired to use your strength to hold onto anything. Eating the bar and sipping from the overly-sweetened drink, you listened to the peptalk your superiors were giving you all. It was something about protecting Pandora, RDA and the forest Na'vi, but you really were too tired to listen. It was most likely the talk they did every time before you went into cryosleep. If you missed anything you could just ask Raja or Seb about it.

What almost felt like a decade to you, actually took just a few hours before you finally landed on Pandora. During the landing all, maybe twenty of you in total, were seated as you braced for impact. It wasn't too bad, it was like a plane landing. Before the doors opened, the duffel bags you took with you were placed on your laps. For your instance, the bag with the wrapped katana you got from your lieutenant was handed to you. You put your mask against your face, pressing it down and securing it as you breathe in the oxygen from the earth. Red lights flash through the area you're in with the others as the secured door lowers to the Pandorean ground, revealing the beauty of mother nature. You rise from your seat as your seat belt was already unclasped. Without waiting any longer, you rushed to the outside world in a heartbeat. Watching your surroundings, it seems like you landed on the resistance base. Unlike the RDA base, which you saw during your learning process, this one was more integrated with mother nature rather than destroying it to make space. It was so organic, so natural. A team was already waiting for your arrival, all standing in a row as you lock gazes with a Na'vi. Unlike the things you were taught about Na'vi clothing, this one was wearing human clothes. Could this be what one would call an avatar? The same situation your dad was also in? You start thinking he was your dad, but it didn't look like him at all. You knew avatars were supposed to look like their 'owners'. Even though it was supposed to be your dad's brother's avatar, they were twins. One would ask 'you don't know what your dad's avatar body looks like?', but honestly as you said many times you tried to pull away from the hauntings Jake Sully got you. The insecurities, and issues you got from his betrayal, his departure. It truly hit you like a truck. Questions would pop up like:

Were you enough?

Was there something wrong with you?

Why didn't he come back to you?

You couldn't take talking about your dad's new life. Selfish one may call it, then you were selfish in their eyes. You didn't care. Wanting your dad, is that selfish? Missing your dad, is that selfish? Angry because your dad wanted a new life without you, is that selfish? You yearned for him, yet despised talking about him. That's why you don't know what he looks like, what he is up to. You just know his history: put into the avatar body from his brother to follow military orders. From only caring about getting a paycheck to protecting the natives. He was crowned with the name Toruk Makto as you were taught. Mated to Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'Ite, daughter of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. When you first heard about this, you felt sick to your stomach. Reality hitting you even harder at age thirteen. It was already bad enough to know your dad left you, but also getting to know that he settled down while you spent your time waiting for him? You remember running out of the classroom when a superior taught you this information. This was also how you got in contact with Raja and Seb. They comforted you while everyone else thought of you as weird, weak. They were the first people, besides the superiors that came in contact with you, that came to know about your dad being Jake Sully, about the struggles you got after he left. Yet, they didn't laugh at what you thought was exaggerating. They listened carefully to your words as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

'We were attached to the hip, what went wrong?'

'Did I make him unhappy?'

'Was I too much for him?'

'Was he looking for something more rather than being a single dad?'

You spilled your insecurities to them and they never uttered a word about it to someone else. You will be forever grateful for them. You were so lost in thoughts, getting slightly emotional at all these thoughts about your dad, until a hand rested on your shoulder, "and last but not least, you must take her with you. She's our best warrior, Norm. She will need to stay on the battlefield, closest to the war." So Norm was his name. A pretty goofy one if you had to be honest. The avatar named Norm stood at least 10 feet tall as he looked down at you, literally. You just reached around his crotch area, which is kinda embarrassing because imagining running into his front. Hopefully, he likes to travel in his human body more. "Then that's settled, Oel Ngati Kameie." His hand rested against his forehead, slowly bringing it down to his chest. You flashed him a kind smile in return, ready for whatever adventure you will come across, "Oel Ngati Kameie."

But only if you knew.

.

.

"They have arrived, they will help us."

"They're sky demons! All the same!"

"I used to be one as well, yet I had a change of heart. Please accept the help they will offer us, for our people, for our family, our fortress." his hands grip hers, intertwining their fingers as he spoke to her in private, away from the children. He opened his mouth again, pressing his forehead against hers, "please, Ma Neytiri."

A/N: first of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback. I honestly didn't expect it I'm gonna be fr😭 it gave me enough motivation to write part 2, so here it is, earlier than expected. I hope you enjoyed <3

also i hope no one noticed me accidentally posting the draft cause that was silly

Taglist (I couldn't find everyone):

@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @bunnyrose01 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @coterami @lwozy @erenjaegerwifee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @m3ll0n1xx @eternallyvenus @shyskybbb @imakms @keira7664 @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @wolfiealina @guska0 @yeosxxx @dakotali @destinylb @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @alohastitch0626

#jake sully #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad! jake sully #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x human!daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #sully family x reader #spider sully

[joels-shitty-puns]

I'm gonna make a request again (sorry your last one was too good for me not to ask again) but this time for a jealous Joel! Maybe the reader and him have been friends for a while and she's oblivious to his flirting and she finally lands a date? How it goes from there can be up to you! I just love the jealous and possessive trope.

The Jealousy Bug

Pairing: Jealous!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Hi!! I'm so sorry this took me so long to write, but thank you for the request!! I hope you like it!! I got a lil carried away... hope its not too much smut.

~~~~~

(Reader and Joel live in Jackson, amid the apocalypse)

Word count: 6.8K (oof)

Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI!! Smut smut smut. P in V sex (likely unprotected but not specified. Its an apocalypse, yo.), masturbation (m and f), sort of dubcon? voyeurism?? sorta?, kissing, talk of genitals and arousal, horny behavior. Explicit language and mean names. Alcohol. Violence: infected, guns, punching, mention of a knife. Joel is kind of a jerk sometimes. Possessive. Mentions of loss and grief (all within S.1 of TLOU). I haven't played part II yet so we're just gonna ignore what we know happens there. Joel and Ellie are happy in Jackson. Joel and Reader are friends and sort of neighbors. Clueless idiots in love. A total asshole of a guy in the town. Lil bit of fluff/romance? Mention of bugs (pill bugs), but not in a gross way. If I missed anything, please let me know, and I apologize!

Other Stuff: Avoidance of reader descriptors, other than reader is AFAB. Mentions of having hair on the noggin. She/her pronouns. Reader is clueless and also clumsy as hell. Reader also drinks coffee and alcohol. Italics indicate thoughts.

__________

It was around 4PM when you filed into the community center for another mandatory patrol meeting. It may be an apocalypse, but even now, you wished this meeting could have been an email instead. Alas, that was a thing of the past, and you were unfortunately stuck listening to the usual spiel about necessary vs. unnecessary items to raid… The importance of remembering to ABC, “Always Be Cautious,” plants that can and can't be eaten, etc.

You sat in your usual spot, the back row next to Joel Miller. A year ago when you first moved to this town, first started patrol, you came into this very room not knowing anyone. Friend groups stuck together, each of the two front rows filled, yet a few empty spaces here and there. Instead, you walked towards the back of the room. A handsome man, who you soon learned was named Joel, sat by himself, three rows back, behind the last full aisle. He was alone. The whole aisle of chairs was empty. He sat with his arms crossed, and you could tell based on his posing that he was not the social type. 

You were feeling a bit nervous, having finally found a sort of civilization in this mess, and hoping the people of Jackson accept you and not just shoot you, like most camps do when they see unknown faces. Unsure where to sit, you continued to head towards the back, slightly drawn to the gorgeous gray-haired man in the last row. Not wanting to intrude, you sat at the far end from Joel. You could feel his eyes on you as you sat, but you didn't dare look over and make eye contact. Years of survival instincts have told you that, especially when someone doesn't want to be bothered.

_____

When you first walked into the room, Joel looked up. He sat in the back row, as usual, not wanting to get close to anyone. However, even if he did, nobody gave him the time of day. They have heard stories of what he’s done, they have seen him around town, often grumbling about something. They could tell he wanted to be left alone and they had no interest in testing how badly he wanted to be left alone.

Joel found it easier to not form connections. Tommy kept telling him to make friends, come around more, socialize in the town. But Joel had learned over the years why making connections never ends well. All he has is Tommy and Ellie, and neither of those were his initial decision, but Tommy is his only family, and somehow he let himself care for Ellie.

But when Joel saw you… there was a flash of longing. He saw you smile gently at Tommy with a small wave. He could see you shrink walking to your seat past the cliques. You were beautiful, and if it were pre-pandemic, you'd be the exact type he'd probably take interest to.

But those days are over.

Or… so he thought.

He set his eyes back down on his hands in his lap, avoiding eye contact with you when you sat down at the end of the row from him.

Why did she sit so far away? Am I that horrible to be around? His heart questioned.

You don't want to be near people anyway. Good she sat far away. Leave me alone. His brain tried to argue.

Tommy droned on and on, the meeting nearing an hour by now, and you could feel Joel’s eyes on the side of your face every few minutes. You don't know why he kept staring, but it made you feel nervous. Did you have something on your face or clothes? Did you smell bad?

Tommy knew his brother well, sometimes more than Joel likes to admit out loud, and as he talked, he took note of Joel’s staring. At first his expression looked confused, maybe irritated or disgusted. Then it looked slightly… disappointed. But he kept stealing glances your direction, and so with a smirk, Tommy assigned the two of you to be on patrol together. Joel questioned his reasoning afterward, but he knew there was no point arguing with his brother.

After that day, you patrolled together. You both went to the bar with the group after meetings. You sat closer and closer to Joel. You managed to get some words out of him, and he listened to you chatter on. But it was when you brought him a cup of coffee before patrol one morning that he finally let down his guard. His heart had betrayed his defenses.

“What's this?” He asked, gruffly.

“Coffee, Joel…” you replied with a joking eye roll. “It's black. I know you don't like anything in it.”

He took a sip, shocked to taste that you actually knew how he took his coffee. “How did you know that?”

“I notice things Joel.” You patted his shoulder, walking towards the group.

_____

Now, a year later, the two of you were very close friends. You still surprised him with things you remembered or noticed, but much to his chagrin, the one thing you didn't pick up on were his advances. He'd call you pet names, be sweet to you, treat you like a gentleman, flirt a little, and it was like talking to a robot. You were clueless.

Tonight's meeting finally ended, the large group heading outside to the chill fall air. “You wanna get drinks with the patrol squad?” you asked Joel. 

“Wouldn't miss it,” he winked at you, putting his leather jacket on his shoulders.

Although you went as a group, ultimately you and Joel spent most of the nights in your own little bubble, occasionally making space in your circle for Tommy, or Maria if she joined.

Tonight, the two of you sat at the bar, the patrol group spread throughout the room at different tables. Joel excused himself to use the restroom, and while he was gone, Jimmy, one of the other patrol members approached you. Hurrying before Joel returned, he flirted and asked you out on a date. You told him you'd think about it, that you weren't sure if you were ready for a relationship after years of caution.

Not technically a lie, you thought. Although you really just weren't ready for a relationship because your heart was already taken by your handsome best friend. 

Joel returned just in time to see Jimmy walking away. “What did he want?” Joel grumbled. “Ah nothin, just wanted to say hi while getting a drink,” you lied. Joel accepted this answer and the two of you drank into the night. At the end of the evening, you seemed pretty drunk. Jimmy offered to walk you home, but before you had a chance to reply, Joel replied for you.

“I'll take her home, thanks.” He bit, turning you away from Jimmy. “I don't like the idea of that boy walkin’ you home. Don't trust ‘im. ‘Specially not when you're in this condition,” he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling you toward the door.

“You don't think I can handle myself, Joel?” You asked him, pulling away, a little bit irritated at him treating you like a weakling. “I seem to do just fine on patrol,” you argued.

“I know that, sugar. I didn't mean it like that. I just don't trust that guy. Heard how he goes through women. Don't want him trying’ anything with you,” he brushed his hand over your hair, causing you to soften at his words and actions.

You gasped lightly. “Is THE Joel Miller… jealous?” You knew he wasn't, but why not test the waters?

“What? Jealous? Of what? No ‘m not.” he balked. “Just lookin’ out for you…”

“Mmhm… you just wanna be the only big strong man walking me home, huh?” You teased, tripping over your own feet. 

Joel caught you in his arms. “Big strong man, huh? ‘S that what you think of me?” 

Shit… did I say that? You panicked. Maybe I'm more drunk than I thought…

Deciding to tease it off, you replied, “well you do always seem to catch me when I fall…” with a wink.

Falling in more ways than one… you thought, frustrated.

He rubbed his neck with the hand not holding you upright. You could almost see a pink tinge to his cheeks.

No, that has to be the lights playing tricks on my eyes… you thought. No way Joel Miller was blushing at your words.

“I kinda have to, ya big klutz. Practically a liability. I oughta tell Tommy to add a safety section on patrolling with you,” he bantered.

“Ah, shut up” you laughed with a push, causing yourself to lose balance instead of Joel. He just gave a knowing look, causing you both to laugh as you continued walking, now side by side instead of him holding you up.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “You know, I could've walked myself home, Joel,” you stumbled, giggling.  

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you again, propping you up. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you home. You've had way too much to drink.”

“You're so sweet Joel,” you pouted at him, booping his nose. “Joelly Joel.” You giggled. “Jolly Joelly.” Another giggle. “I dunno why people think you're so grumpy. I think you're just a big teddy bear,” you closed your eyes, leaning your head on his shoulder while he stumbled forward, trying to keep you upright.

“Who says I'm grumpy, darlin’?” He tilted his head towards you, smirking. “The whole town, silly. Silly Joelly. Joely-poly.” You gasped abruptly, causing Joel to jerk and turn to face you. “What? What is it?” His hand reached for his knife on his hip. Old habits die hard.

“Joely-poly!!” You squealed. “Awe! Roly-polies. Remember those!? I used to love them when I was little.” You pouted. “Before this whole world went to shit.”

Joel thought back to the little pill bugs, playing in the dirt with them when he was younger. Teaching his own daughter about them. His heart aches for what he lost, but he also thinks of Ellie. He bets she would love the little bugs too.

“That's a cute nickname for you,” you smiled. “They're so cute. Just,” you booped his nose. “Like.” Boop. “You,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Another gasp from your lips.

He flinched again. “Darlin’, if you don't quit that I swear-”

“Joeeeel!” You pouted. “Do you think the roly-polies all died off with the infection!?” Your eyes welled up.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. There's probably still some out there. Bugs could get cordyceps long before the fungus attacked humans, and they were still alive back then.” You looked up into his deep brown eyes through your fluttering lashes. “You really think so?” You leaned in, placing both your hands on his cheeks. His breath caught in his chest. “Darlin’, you drank a lot tonight-” you cut off his sentence, running your hands down his neck, resting your palms on his chest. His heart was beating a mile a minute. If he didn't know better, he'd worry his heart would leap out and fly away. 

Your eyes lit up and you slid off his chest, lowering clumsily to the ground and gripping his sides for balance. You were now on your knees, eye level with his crotch, hands on his hips. His breath was ragged and his stomach full of twirling butterflies. “Wh-what do you think you're doin’?” He asked nervously. You looked up at him with big eyes, your hands slowly falling down from his hips to his thighs as you tried to balance yourself in your drunken state. He couldn't help but feel his pants begin to tent at the position you were in. He would never take advantage of you in your current state, but trying to ignore the desire brewing in his body after so many months of unrequited feelings was challenging. Did you finally see his advances for what they were? Feelings instead of friendliness?

You grinned up at him, finally regaining balance. “I'm gonna go look for ‘em!” you turned and waddled away on your knees, heading a couple feet away, towards a patch of flowers off the path.

She just needed to use me as a ladder, or what…? Joel thought to himself with a sigh and shaking his head in disappointment, his sexual frustration at its breaking point.

You crawled forward, falling onto your hands and knees in the soft dirt. Joel quickly stepped forward to try and grab you but realized, despite your lack of grace, you meant to do that. “Ugh… darlin', it's dark out here. It's cold. You're drunk. Let's get you home.”

“I'm looking for buggies, Joel!!” You leaned towards a leaf, arching downward so that your face was closer to the ground, ass up. 

“Oh, have mercy…” Joel groaned under his breath, his eyes drifting downward. Your ass was up in the air, facing him, the fabric of your dress having fallen forward towards your front. Your light pink panties were on full display for Joel, leaving little to his imagination in this position. Joel subtly adjusted his pants, looking up to the sky and shaking his head in a silent plea. 

You whined. “Joel, I don't see any.” You leaned farther forward, wiggling your butt somehow higher. Joel looked around, panicked at the thought that someone else might see you in this position. But luckily, you were close to your house and it was just the two of you out here. He turned back to you again. “I think it's time you get up and we go in-” you moved further forward, the streetlight shining above you and illuminating your ass. Joel tried to be a gentleman, but his eyes betrayed him. As he snuck another glance, he couldn't help but notice a little wet spot over the crotch of your panties. “In-inside…” he finished his sentence, words catching in his throat. He gulped, trying to divert his eyes. 

Taking a shaky breath and stepping forward, trying to ignore the throbbing need in his pants, he lightly grabbed your arm. “It's time to go sweetheart. The bugs are sleepin’ I think.” 

You looked at him and smiled mischievously. “I know, Joel,” you winked. Jumping up, you scampered towards your house, leaving Joel to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Woman's gonna be the death of me,” Joel muttered under his breath to himself. He caught up to you, just as you both approached your house. “Joel, I don't wanna go home. Can't I stay with you? And Ellie?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He rubbed his neck. “Ellie's with a friend tonight. But, you do have a point. You probably shouldn't be left by yourself in this state. Don't want you gettin’ hurt, or sick, and bein’ all alone.”

“Such a gentleman, Joel.” You touched his bicep, the two of you walking towards Joel's house across the street.

Hardly, he thought, grimacing at the reason he was aching in his trousers, feeling like an old creep, and a terrible excuse for a friend.

Once inside Joel's house, he gave you a baggy sleep shirt and a glass of water with some crackers to help with the alcohol. You changed, brushed your teeth with a spare toothbrush, and used the restroom. He let you have his bed, while he took the couch down the hall, scrunching his legs up to barely fit.

_____

Joel tried his hardest to ignore what he saw earlier and just go to bed, but the aching only continued, making it impossible to sleep. Sure that you must have fallen asleep by now, tucked away in his bed down the hall, he quietly reached into his pajama bottoms and boxers, pulling out his rock-hard penis. Even the mere touch of removing himself from his pants caused him to hiss, so worked up he could have cum just watching you bent over earlier.

He was a gentleman, but he was still a man, and one that hadn't been with a woman in a very long time. With as many people as he'd lost by one means or another, he'd told himself he wouldn't get close to anyone else. Sarah's mom. Sarah. Tess. Bill and Frank. Sam and Henry. He almost thought he had lost Tommy before Jackson, too. It was against his wishes that Ellie crawled her way into his heart, and then he almost lost her as well. He was beginning to think maybe it was him. He was cursed, doomed to have anyone he loved ripped away from him.

Which is why when you came to Jackson, he tried his best to ignore you. But you always greeted him, cheerful and sweet, like a little ball of sunshine that was somehow untarnished by the storm clouds of an apocalypse.

He was irritated to realize that he had made room in his heart for you. You caused an ache in his heart that yearned to be filled. A missing piece in his soul. A place for him to someday fit, tangled between sheets and loving words. It had been about a year since you moved to Jackson, and he still feared getting too close to you, yet he would try his hardest to woo you the way a gentleman should. Sweet nicknames, flirting, gentle touches. You never picked up on it. Whether or not you felt the same, he stupidly fell in love. Unsure if it was mutual, yet pretty sure it wasn't after all this time, he tried to ignore the dirty thoughts revolving around you when the late-night urges would hit him. Somehow it felt wrong.

But tonight, it was hard to avoid. Having you touch him. His face, his neck, his chest, his hips, his thighs. Kneeling eye level with his crotch. Slinking away, sticking your barely covered ass in the air, letting your wet panties be shown to him and only him. He couldn't get you out of his head as he stroked himself. First slowly, but then harder and faster, trying to reach his climax with the thought of him burying himself in that sweet spot underneath your wet underwear. How he longed to see you with his own eyes, begging for him.

He tried to be quiet, to keep himself hidden from you down the hall, but the noise of skin on skin grew slightly louder with each of his quiet moans and panting breaths that managed to slip from his lips. Imagining himself buried deep inside you, taking you from behind in the same position he saw you in earlier, imagining the tight grip around him and the slick noises he could only fantasize about. He could practically hear you moaning and sighing, the sound seeping from his subconscious to the living room. He pumped harder, swirling his thumb around the head, drooling with precum, as his climax grew closer. He could feel his strokes becoming less controlled and his balls pulling upward as he began to shoot load after load of white hot release up under his shirt onto his stomach. Stroking himself through it, he milked his last few ropes of cum out before laying back to catch his breath, slowly tucking himself back away in his pants.

Coming back to his senses, he realized the sounds of your moans and whimpers that he was imagining were still happening. Taken out of his fantasies when he finished, there was no reason for the sounds to still be in his head. Needing to grab a cloth from the linen closet down the hall anyway, he walked, nearing his bedroom door, and heard the unmistakable sound of you pleasuring yourself. Quietly, he padded down the hallway, closer to the door. He could tell you were trying to be quiet, but could still hear you, soft whimpers and pants, surrounded by wet schlick noises.

Fuck, he thought. He could feel himself already getting excited again, despite having just released a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to join you in his bed, or at the least, stand by the door and listen to your sounds while pleasuring himself, but he wasn't going to be a creep, nor scare you to death. You were still his friend. Even if he did want to move the couch across the living room to hear you better.

_____

Meanwhile in Joel's room, you had tried to sleep. You really had. But tossing and turning, each roll causing your nose to be surrounded with his scent, you were thrown into a frenzy, like an animal in heat. Each smell of his cologne, shaving cream, deodorant, and natural body scent that you picked up from his bed sent a wave of arousal directly to your core. You wondered how many times he'd pleasured himself in this bed and how frequently. You wondered if he ever thought of you while doing it, imagining himself buried deep to the hilt inside of you, each drag of his cock more perfect than the last, much like you were imagining now.

You would be lying if you didn't say there were a lot of handsome men in Jackson. Granted, you had been without romance for a very long time, but still. Many of them were single, and some of them were very sweet and friendly. Yet for some strange reason, your heart had been drawn to Joel. The first moment you saw him, with his silvery curls and his grumpy face, his shining brown eyes and his patched beard, you were smitten. You were a bit disappointed that he seemed to be a massive grump, but despite what everyone said, he was always nice to you. Granted, you were always nice to him, so why should he be anything less, right?

He was always a total gentleman, calling you names like darlin’ and sweetheart, his southern drawl pulling you in like a lasso. His care for his unofficially-adopted daughter warmed your heart, and you could see he was a real family man from both their relationship, and the one he shared with his brother. It warmed your heart, especially when you befriended Tommy and Ellie, getting to hear them talk about Joel. Seeing the love they feel, even if they give him a hard time sometimes. You didn't see how people felt Joel was cruel or heartless, even with the stories you heard. Times were rough, and people did what they had to for survival. 

You were always too chicken to make a move, and you figured he wouldn't be interested anyway. Surely him calling you those names and being sweet with you was just his Southern gentlemanly nature, right? You were nice to him, he was nice to you. 

So tonight, when Jimmy, the local heartthrob in town, asked you on a date, you told him you'd think about it and let him know. Yeah, you claimed you weren't sure how you felt about relationships after all the world had become. Truth was, you wanted a last chance with Joel before throwing in the towel and settling for Jimmy.

Sure, Jimmy was handsome. Blonde hair, blue eyes, rugged, yet boyish. Several of the women in town had crushes on him, and he had had several of the women in town. You weren't clueless to the rumors about his playboy behavior. But it had been a while and well, you weren't getting any younger. It might be nice to have a partner, even if he did only want a short little fling. 

So throwing back a few drinks, you decided you needed the liquid courage to finally make a move at Joel. One last effort to get his attention. You still didn't want to say anything to him, lest it ruin your current friendship that had grown so strong, but you could certainly use your body to entice a little. Drinking just enough to be brave, yet not so drunk that you were completely out of it, you gave an impression you were much drunker than you were, and needed Joel to help you out. Jimmy had almost been the one to walk you home, to your disappointment, before Joel stepped in, seeming slightly irritated about Jimmy's offer.

Yet after practically waving your ass in his face, showing him your panties (which you were sure looked wet), being inches from his crotch at knee height, and hanging on him all the way home, to now sleeping in his house and his bed, you were quite sure he didn't feel the same. Obviously his gestures were pure gentlemanly charm if he didn't bite after tonight's show.

So you tried to sleep, still a little drunk, but getting drunker off his scent. You tried to ignore the ache between your legs but the thought of him in this bed, groaning as his hand pumped his member to completion, made you throb. Soaked and antsy, you finally gave in and stuck your hand under the waistband of your panties. You let your imagination run wild, picturing him taking you in this bed, bringing you to bliss more than once. You could practically hear him groaning and panting, the sound seeping from your subconscious to the bedroom.

Tomorrow you would likely tell Jimmy yes. But tonight, you would try your best to get Joel out of your system, one stroke of your fingers at a time. But as you finished, coming with a whisper of Joel's name under your breath, you could still hear the groans and pants from Joel. Climbing out of bed, you moved to the door, pressing your ear against it. You could just barely hear the sounds of him panting and groaning, intermittent with the fapping of skin on skin. Delightedly surprised, you listened harder, feeling your pussy drool at the thought. How desperately you wanted to go out into the living room and climb on top of him. But he might not want that… he probably just couldn't sleep. Probably nothing to do with the scene you put on earlier. So instead, you slinked back to his bed, opting for round two.

At some point, the two of you fell asleep, panting and writhing with the self-induced pleasure, and the sound of each other through the door.

_____

The next morning, you awoke, walking down the hall to see Joel in his pajama bottoms and no shirt, making coffee. Your eyes scanned his broad shoulders and back, naked and tan. Bringing you back to last night's events, you felt your breath catching in your chest. 

“M-morning” you stuttered out, nervously.

Joel jumped, having not heard you. He turned, greeting you with a good morning. A faint blush crept across his cheeks and he quickly turned his head to pour a cup of coffee, offering you some as well. Thanking him, the two of you sipped in silence, both stealing glances at the other and thinking of the night before. Both of you felt like you had a dirty little secret the other didn't know. 

“Thanks again for taking care of me last night,” you added. In more ways than one, you thought.

“Of course, darlin’. Couldn't have you walkin’ home all alone or getting sick in the middle of the night. You're always welcome here,” he smiled.

“Well, I guess I better head to my house now,” you sighed. “See you later at patrol?”

“Course. Take care, sugar.” He brushed his hand over your arm. That's new… you thought. But still, probably friendly, unfortunately.

____

Hours later, you show up to patrol, noticing Joel hasn't arrived yet. Still a few minutes early, you look at the map, thinking over the route. You felt a tap on your shoulder, and turned around to see Jimmy. 

“Hey, Jimmy,” you greeted, feeling slightly awkward. You assumed he probably wanted (and deserved) an answer. You rubbed your arm nervously, staring at the ground, wondering what to tell him. He was handsome, you thought, and you weren't getting anywhere with Joel. 

“Did you, uh” Jimmy scratched behind his ear, “give any more thought to that date?”

Geesh. Not a lot of thinking time here…

“I did,” you replied. “I think… My answer is yes. I'll go out with you.” You felt a pang of regret in your stomach, but you wanted a connection, and you just weren't getting that from Joel, despite what you wanted to think from last night.

Jimmy grinned. “Really?” He picked up your hand, holding it in his. “That's great. I know you have patrol today, but maybe Friday? I'll meet you at your house at 6?” 

“Sure,” you gave a small fake smile. “Sounds great.” He still held your hand, warm and soft and nothing like the rugged, large, callused hands of hard-working Joel. Although Joel has never held your hand, the times he's touched your arms, or held you up on your walk from the bar, he left a trail of goosebumps and butterflies in his wake, despite being warm to the touch.

Jimmy went to kiss your hand, just as Joel walked up. “What’s goin’ on here, huh?” He asked, seeming almost… angry, looking from Jimmy, to your connected hands, over to your face. “Joel,” Jimmy dropped your hand, giving Joel a curt nod.

“Jimmy..” Joel replied, teeth clenched. 

“I'll see you Friday,” Jimmy smiled at you, touching your shoulder before walking away.

“What did that little asshole want?” Joel growled.

“Geez Joel, chill out. What's your problem? I'm not allowed to talk to people?” You crossed your arms.

“I toldja last night. I don't trust that kid. Too busy sleepin’ around with the whole town. What's he talkin’ to you for?” Joel furrowed his brow, looking over at Jimmy across the room, now talking to some of the other patrolmen.

“Gosh Joel.. seriously what is wrong with you? First of all, he's hardly a kid. He's at least in his thirties. Second of all, everyone he's been with, I'm sure has been consensual, otherwise Tommy would have kicked him out of the town. And lastly, but probably more important. What do you mean “what is he talking to you for?” You mocked in a deep voice. “Like I'm the only option he has left? Like I'm not deserving of a man talking to me? Not that it’s any of your business, friend, but for your information, Jimmy is taking me on a date on Friday. So fuck off, Joel.” You started to stomp away angrily, grabbing your pack off the desk.

“The fuck he is,” Joel muttered under his breath, so quiet you didn't hear and grabbing his pack as well.

_____

Five hours. Five hours of riding in complete silence, checking out abandoned buildings in complete silence, and taking breaks in complete silence. Even your first patrol wasn't this quiet, and you couldn't help but feel like he was somehow angry at you.

As irritated as you were with him, not talking to him somehow felt worse. This wasn't like him. Is this the grumpy side everyone talks about? Is this Joel, the asshole you have yet to meet?

Feeling confused, your eyes started to cloud, slightly teary with anger and sadness, yet also a bit of dread at going out with Jimmy. You blinked your eyes, sorting through the abandoned drug store you and Joel were in.

Finding some condoms on a shelf, you threw them in your pack. “What're you doin’?” Joel asked. “Those can't be sold, didn't you pay attention to Tommy? They're rarely effective this old.”

“Yes I paid attention, Joel. I know they can't be sold. They're for me. I figured it's better than nothing,” you replied bitterly. “I have a date in a couple days, I want to be prepared,” you scowled. Joel’s jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything, instead turning to look the other direction of the aisle.

Crouched down to search the bottom shelf for other items, Joel was still turned away from you, keeping lookout on the other end of the aisle. 

You didn't even hear the stalker leap around the corner from the shadows and pounce on you. It opened its mouth, fungal strands spreading from its mouth towards your face. Pure fear pulsed through your veins.

“Joel!!!!!” You cried out, using all your strength to try and push the infected off of your body, but it was too strong. 

You screamed and kicked, struggling to break free, when Joel fired his shotgun, shooting the enemy in the head and immediately running over to you. Throwing the infected off of your body as if it was weightless, Joel scooped you into his arms. His lips moved but you heard nothing. Your ears rang, high pitched squeals from adrenaline, fear, shock, and the bang of the shotgun.

Joel pawed over your body, roughly inspecting you for bites and wounds in a frenzy. When he didn't find any, he held you in his arms again. “It's okay baby, it's okay. You're alright sweetheart. Come back to me, it's okay. You're okay.” Your hearing must have returned. He rocked you, tears welling from your eyes and his. “You're okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” He kissed your ear and the side of your head, still rocking you in a hug, sitting on the floor, inches from the now-dead infected. The two of you needed to get out of here, but neither of you could move yet.

Finally you spoke. “Why are you sorry Joel?” You asked with a sniffle. You wrapped your arm around his back, the other hand finding the back of his head, gripping his curls gently.

“I'm sorry for how I've been actin’ all day. I'm sorry I didn't see that stalker before he attacked. I'm sorry for being so possessive earlier. I'm sorry,” he held you tighter.

You pulled back to look into his eyes. “Joel, you couldn't have heard or seen that stalker. That's what they do best. You saved me and that's all that matters. As for earlier, you were being an asshole, and it did really hurt my feelings. All this time people have said you're such a jerk, and I didn't see it,” you pulled away from his grip, “but today I did.” You looked at your lap. “Don't I deserve to go on a date? Don't I deserve to have someone love me?” You picked at the hem of your pants, avoiding his eye contact.

“Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to feel that way. I just - you deserve something real, not a hookup like that guy wants. I know his type. He'll sleep with you and toss you aside. You deserve to be treated like a lady.”

You snorted. “Yeah, Joel. That's how things are nowadays, too. Gentleman just waiting to sweep me off my feet. Shit, you literally just saved me from near-death, something that happens all the time today, and yet you're saying I deserve love? To find romance? Yeah, right.”

Joel didn't say anything. He just looked into your eyes, lips pursed and moving to the side in thought. His eyes drifted to your lips and back up to your sight.

You continued. “I don't even like Jimmy,” you said quietly. “I like someone else, but I just got tired of waiting and wanted some kind of connection. Even if it's just a night in bed.” At the last part of your sentence, Joel grimaced, almost in pain. And then he thought.

“Wait,” he sat back a little, scanning your face. “Who do you like?” 

You gulped. Why not a little more adrenaline? “Well, it was you, until you started acting like an asshole. But I realized you probably didn't feel the same way a while ago. Especially after I practically threw myself at you last night.”

“Threw yourself at me last night? What are you talkin’ about? You were drunk,” Joel answered.

“I wasn't that drunk, Joel. My movements were pretty planned. The placement of my touches on your body. My ass angled up in your direction. I wanted you,” you added, pointedly.

Joel looked like he was solving a complicated math problem. “So you… last night when you… I heard you, in bed, pleasurin’ yourself. Were you… thinking about me?”

You looked up at him in shock and panic. “You heard me?” You asked in a frantic whisper.

“Yeah, I uh… I did. I got up to get a towel and heard your uh… sounds” he cleared his throat.

“I guess I should tell you then that I heard you too,” you said with a smirk.

Joel swallowed, hard. “Y-ya heard me?”

“Yep” you replied, popping your lips on the p sound.

Joel had nothing to lose at this point. “I was thinking about you,” he proclaimed. “Thinkin’ bout that wet spot on your panties when you flashed your ass in the air. Wishin’ I was buried inside you.” He ran his hand across your thigh.

Your breathing picked up. “I was thinking about you too. Wishing you'd bust through that door and take me in your bed, running my nails down your back as we came together…” you mimicked the motion with your fingers down his jacket-clad back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing. You glanced down at the noticeable bulge in his jeans. “I like you too, I just never thought you felt the same. Y’never seemed to pick up on any of my sweet talkin’ or my names for ya.”

“I just figured you were being nice,” you replied, glancing back into his eyes.

“You should know by now, I'm only nice to you,” he growled. “I'm sorry I ruined that today,” he glanced at your mouth, licking his lips. “Was just jealous. Want you all for myself,” he stroked your thigh again.

You sighed at the feeling, pulling him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The kiss was frantic and rough, both of you trying to get as much of each other as possible, a year of build-up boiling at the surface. Teeth clashed and tongues danced and you pulled each other closer, grasping at clothes and skin. 

The two of you broke the kiss, needing a gasp of air. You started to take off your shirt when Joel stopped you. “Whoa, darlin'. I want you just as bad, but not here,” he gestured to the old building. “It's dangerous, not to mention gross in here. I wasn't kidding when I said you deserve romance,” he stood, pulling you to your feet. “We're about a 20 minute ride from base, let's head home. Make your fantasy of fuckin’ in my bed come true,” he winked, giving a smack to your ass. 

_____

The 20 minute ride felt never-ending as you both stole glances at each other, your panties still wet with arousal, and him still sporting the tent in his pants, which was hard to miss. 

Finally making it back to the stables, you both quickly undressed the horses and put gear away, about to head out of the barn when Jimmy and his partner rode up. “Hey, babe,” he called to you. It sounded wrong from his mouth. Joel tensed at your side.

Dismounting his horse, Jimmy strolled over to you. “Hey Jimmy, I was thinking. I don't think I want to go on that date after all. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way.”

“What?” Jimmy asked in disbelief.

“I know, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I- I like someone else. I just didn't think they felt the same way,” you replied sheepishly.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“What?” You were in disbelief.

“Fuck you, bitch. One of the few women in this town who won't fuckin’ put out. I was even gonna take you on some shitty date before I got you into bed, and now you make a fool of me? Nah, I don't think so,” he stalked towards you angrily. 

You stepped back, worried what he might do, but Joel stepped in first, nailing a punch at Jimmy's nose. “Don't you dare talk to her like that,” Joel yelled.

Tommy came running in, hearing the commotion. After hearing what happened, it was decided that Jimmy wouldn't be welcome in this town any longer.

Satisfied, you grabbed Joel's hand. “Why don't I show you who I really belong to?” You looked up at him, biting your lip.

“Lead the way, baby.” He pushed you forward, smacking your ass.

The two of you stumbled into his house, kissing with little regard for objects. Luckily, Ellie was still at a friend's house. The door slammed closed and you kissed furiously, undressing as you walked. Finally you reached his bedroom and fell onto the bed, where he made all your fantasies of the night prior come true. The two of you enjoyed the taste of each other's mouths, kissing and licking, while he pounded into you, leaving you breathless and screaming his name as you both came.

“That was even better than I imagined,” you sighed, rolling over onto his chest.

“That's my girl,” he cooed, kissing your head and rubbing your back.

“Mine,” he whispered.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x afab!reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #jealous!joel #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us

[spacebarbarianweird]

Widower Astarion Headcanons

Ok, we wanted pain - I bring you pain. @astarionsbeloved @wickedwitchofthewilds @sleepykitty21 @starlight-ipomoea

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion isn't an idiot; he knows you are mortal, a topic you've discussed before.

Jokingly, he suggested you find a vampire lord, but even if one were found, Astarion would never allow you to turn into a vampire.

"It hurts, it's painful. The existence of a vampire is miserable. I will never do this to you."

The price of mortality is death.

You made him promise not to step into the sunlight and to keep living, carrying memories of you into the future.

You die as you always wanted: in a glorious battle, or safe and comfy in your bed, or brought home by Astarion to a place you grew up in.

You die with no regrets, sorrows, or complaints.

Astarion is numb; all the feelings he learned how to express are gone with your last breath.

He dissociates; it's not him, not now, not real—he is somewhere else.

He hides in the shadows, safe in the darkness and lonely.

Unfortunately, Astarion has never learned how to be alone; you never left him on his own for a long time.

He realizes he can't meditate; there is a mental block preventing him from doing so in your absence.

It's even worse since he can't give himself a break.

Eventually, some friends of yours give him a Potion of Angelic Slumber. He sleeps for a few days in a row, without dreams and nightmares.

When he wakes up, the first thing he does is look for you, and then he realizes you're gone.

In this moment, Astarion breaks down, crying and cursing in Elven and Common.

His back hurts as if there are flesh wounds; the cold grip of darkness holds his undead heart. The tears burn the crimson eyes.

He mourns, grieves, wishes to be dead, but the given promise and the innate desire to survive prevent him from going into the sun.

For the first few years, he lives as a hermit in your shared house, starving himself by not hunting and spending months on your side of the bed without moving at all.

It's not life; it's an existence, miserable and hopeless when he imagines you alive.

A wake-up call is sudden but almost divine.

Deep in his thoughts, he finds himself in his own grave in Baldur's Gate, seeing you six feet above him as young as you were back during the tadpole adventure.

"I didn't get you out of this grave to let you bury yourself. Come on, you promised to me to live! Then, live! This is my last gift."

He wakes up, starving and cold, goes up and leaves for hunting. He hunts for a few days, satiating himself with animal and sentient beings' blood.

As his mind returns to him, Astarion washes and repairs his clothes, brushes his hair, makes himself look decent.

He ravages through your things, collecting them carefully in one place. You wouldn't want a shrine, so he sells the things he won't be able to use anymore.

He puts on your wedding ring (now he has two identical rings) and also a necklace you always liked.

He re-sews one of your gowns into a shirt; now, it feels like you are still with him.

Astarion leaves his first forever home and starts his own journey, taking the role of a sole adventurer - a monster hunter, a protector of the weak. He has always had this heroic side in him, just never admitted.

The most difficult thing is to stay alone; people praise him for saving someone from a monster, but they fear mingling with a vampire.

Sometimes, Astarion cries in his tent, cursing the evil gods for taking the only good thing he ever had.

He constantly talks to himself, imagining you standing beside him.

He actually enjoys these one-sided monologues because he can pretend you are still here.

Years pass, memories of the happy life fade. Astarion joins groups of adventurers here and there but always feels off.

Eventually, he finds the strength to live up to his promise, to enjoy what he has.

He explores places he has never been to, does things he has never done, and hears stories he has never heard.

He makes friends, mostly among long-living creatures. "Oh, my young vampire friend! It's been a while!" A wizard elf greets him with open arms. "I am 400 years older than you, idiot," Astarion chuckles and returns a hug.

Most importantly, he preserves the memory about you, paying bards and storytellers, talking about you at campfires, and putting you as an example of kindness and bravery.

Once, Astarion hears a song, "The One Who Saved Baldur's Gate." The motive and words are nice, but the more he listens to it, the more in shock he is.

This song known to every decent bard in Swords Coast is about you, a distant memory, a long-forgotten story.

He has fulfilled your promise, made sure you live in people's hearts. This day is bittersweet; he cries his eyes out, listening to that song over and over again.

But he feels happy, the first time in years.

With decades to pass, Astarion creates the Blood Guild - a union of vampires and dhampirs who prefer to hunt monsters rather than be ones. They also keep an eye on other vampires who are a danger to mortals, especially those who make spawns and thralls out of innocent victims.

Having immortal undead friends feels nice; having friends who understand his issues, too.

He finds himself in the position of a mentor; vampires come to him for advice and emotional support.

Then he meets a person, a runaway spawn, angry with what happened to them, determined to do whatever it takes to break their chains. Astarion agrees to help; they constantly bicker about every single thing—views on life, personal experiences, shared interests.

This new person is annoying, obnoxious, brave, and lovable. Suddenly Astarion realizes he doesn't want to stay in his tent alone; he doesn't want to speak to himself anymore.

The long-forgotten feeling of loving someone aches in his undead heart, but now it's not his turn to confess.

"You know, I've been manipulating you into helping me. I am sorry. if you want, I will go away."

"You are a good person, Astarion. No one is like you. But you deserve honesty and something real."

Astarion smiles back and hugs this person.

This relationship is different; the runaway spawn is nothing like you, different in every way possible—personality, appearance, behavior, views on life, everything.

At first, there is profound guilt, as if he betrays your memory by having another romantic relationship.

They talk, sharing the darkest and saddest parts of their immortal lives—crimes they had to commit, lives they lost.

Eventually, Astarion tells them about you—how wonderful you were, how kind, how brave, how much you meant to him. His new love smiles and takes away a strand curl from his face.

"So, this is the person I must thank for you?".

He helps his new love to break the chains by killing the vampire lord.

Returning back, Astarion starts talking about the future.

Adventures? Of course! His partner is also a spawn, they need healing and freedom the same way he needed many years ago.

And then - who knows? Life is full of cruel wonders. Especially, for immortals.

--

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@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy

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[wheeboo]

catnaps (with you) | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which you revisit the cat shelter with wonwoo during autumn break. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader (ft. best friend!wen junhui) GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, humour? idk i'm unfunny, established relationship, slice of life, college au WARNINGS. kissing (reader has their first kiss 🤭), reader is shorter than wonwoo, cursing, terms of endearment, reader has some insecurity issues n overthinks, reader's parents puts academic pressure on them, a lil allusion to sex but it's cuz jun can't word things properly n reader assumes he's talking abt it 😭, reader is just oblivious to wonwoo being hella whipped for them, this is hella self-indulgent kflgfgsdf WORD COUNT. 10.1k

notes: no one asked for this, and i couldn't help it. enjoy this glimpse into our fav introverted couple whom i missed so much 💘 this could prob be read as separate but i recommend reading the first part for any scenes regarding the cat shelter :) ty to my moot group (i love u guys sm it hurts) for being supportive and eating up all the spoilers i would give cuz i get too excited 💞

← part 1 | part 2 

[07:41pm | wonu 💘] y/n, are you still in the library? i got you some ice cream :)

The message remains on delivered, though Wonwoo knows you're still in the library. You've been studying continuously for the past two weeks, and since trying to survive in your own dorm room was already hard enough, you decided to romanticise your studying sessions by going to the library. And frankly, it's been working. Sort of.

Wonwoo opens the door into the library, footsteps muted by the soft carpeting that fills the floors. Rows and shelves of books and study materials line the walls and desks with school computers dot the open spaces. As he heads deeper inside, his gaze sweeps across the spacious room, searching for you among the hushed whispers and occasional rustle of pages.

When he finally spots you tucked in a peaceful corner, a gentle smile tugs at his lips. Though he half-expected to see your face buried in a textbook, he sees nothing but your sleepy head laying against the open page, your hand loosely holding a pen, an open notebook at the side displaying half-finished notes, and your laptop which displayed a numerous amount of tabs.

The smile to his face fades just slightly, though his heart still blooms with affection in his chest. He approaches up to you, being as quiet as he can, setting his bag down on the empty chair across from you and your frozen ice cream on the table.

He carefully reaches over to close your laptop, its screen dimming to black as he does so. Cautiously, he takes the pen from your hand and places it on top of your notebook. Then, with utmost care, he starts to organise your scattered notes, aligning them neatly beside your laptop.

Once everything is in order, he takes a moment to admire your slumbering form, over your peaceful expression, which spreads some warmth through him. The dim lighting in the library casts a gentle glow on your features, highlighting the subtle lines of exhaustion to your face.

You always look so cute, he always tells himself, and it reminds of him of the days during senior year when he'd glance in your direction, seeing your napping form and feeling this sudden surge of curiosity, sometimes even protectiveness to watch over you. He recalls how he would often find himself wanting to make sure you were comfortable and well-rested, even back then.

As he begins to pack your belongings into your backpack, you finally stir awake, lowly groaning and blinking as you slowly come back to consciousness. Your gaze meets Wonwoo's as you notice he's been taking care of your things, and a faint blush spreads across your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and tenderness.

"You... you didn't have to," You mumble sheepishly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

He chuckles softly, the deep sound resonating in your chest. "The library's about to close, and I couldn't just let you sleep here all night."

His words only deepen your blush, still feeling that lingering embarrassment course through you. You sit up, still feeling a bit disoriented from your small nap, watching as Wonwoo helps you pack the rest of your belongings before closing up your backpack.

"Ice cream?" he asks, offering you the small cup and spoon.

You feel a slap of panic hit you as you hurl your backpack over your shoulders. "Oh, it-it's not melted, right? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to nap for so long𑁋"

"Angel, it's okay." His laughter is melodic, comforting and reassuring. "I made sure to get it right before I came here."

Gosh, it's so tragically easy for your heart to feel like it might implode, and him calling you angel does nothing but send all those butterflies to your stomach. It's a simple term of endearment, but when he says it, it feels like the most meaningful and affectionate word in the world. He uses those little nicknames in sparse times, mainly to give you comfort, yet you won't deny that it works every time.

You take the cup and spoon from his hand in yours, facing away a little as you take a spoonful of the ice cream in your mouth. The sweet, cold treat soothes your senses and brings a small, contented smile to your lips, and when you glance back at Wonwoo, he's already gazing at you.

There's a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, an intensity that goes beyond words, and a manner that makes you feel almost overwhelmed. He also looks adorably comfortable in the grey sweater that he wore, accentuating his broad shoulders and the subtle strength of his frame.

"What?" You choke out.

Wonwoo moves closer, slowly bringing a hand up, letting a thumb wipe away some ice cream that had escaped from the corner of your lips. His touch sends shivers down your spine.

"Nothing," he says, voice a soft murmur, but his expression turns slightly teasing. "You're just cute."

A playful glint dances in his eyes as he continues to watch your flustered reaction.

"I'm not cute," You protest, though the corners of your lips betray your attempt at seriousness.

"You saying that means you even more cuter."

You almost gag (in a good way, don’t worry). If your ice cream hasn't melted yet, then you sure as hell did.

"You're actually ridiculous," You mutter, trying to hide your flushed cheeks with another scoop of your ice cream in your mouth.

"But you like me," he argues playfully, a sulkiness to his face that you just can't resist.

I do. I really do. You can't deny that. It hasn't even been long since you both came to that realisation; it hasn't even been long since the two of you have graduated high school and started this whole relationship... ordeal, thing (seriously, what the fuck are relationships?). But, in a strange way, it felt like it has been an eternity, yet the feelings haven't changed. Not one bit, and you'd really question your entire being if something were to shift.

Before you can respond, though, a yawn escapes your lips, and it finally dawns on you just how tired you are. Your recent studying marathons have taken a toll on your energy levels, and it's starting to catch up with you. Wonwoo notices the exhaustion engraved into your features and warily takes your almost-finished ice cream from your hand.

"Hey," he encourages delicately, taking your hand and helping you up. "The library is about to close. Let me walk you back."

You don't object, the weariness seeping into your bones, and together you walk out of the library. The campus is quiet under the rays of moonlight, and the air is slowly becoming chilly. He carries your backpack for you, and you hold on to your ice cream, savouring the last few spoonfuls before disposing it in a nearby bin.

It's almost instinctive in the way your hand easily finds his, knowing that it had taken nearly the entirety of summer break to finally get used to that step. Every time your fingers intertwine, there was often that flicker of doubt dancing at the edges of your mind. It's not just the thrill of his touch, but the unshakable uncertainty that lingers beneath the surface.

Sometimes, you wonder if he can sense the hesitation in your grip𑁋the way your fingers tremble slightly as they clasp onto his, if your grip feels too hesitant or too unsure. It's not that you aren't ready, because you are, it's just that it's all so new, so different, and you're afraid that you might mess up.

Holding hands is perhaps one of the most mundane acts in a relationship, yet here you are, almost feeling like you're treading on uncharted territory, taking it in like a historical moment bound for the textbooks. It's the deeper feelings within yourself that are beginning to settle, just like the leaves falling around you as autumn approaches.

"Do you... want to visit home for autumn break?" Wonwoo's question breaks you out of your thoughts, and you look up at him, surprise flickering across your face. "We can also go to the cat shelter too."

"Really?" You question, and the thought of seeing the cats again brings that joy back to your face. It brings you back to all the clear memories you've made in that small little shelter that somehow made the world feel even bigger. However, the thought of visiting home in general makes you feel a bit queasy.

You feel Wonwoo's thumb caress against your knuckles, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. "My grandmother wonders about you, you know."

"Does she miss me that much?" You ask bashfully.

As you arms start to swing back and forth lightly, Wonwoo only chuckles. "Hmm, I think you've become one of her favourites."

Your eyes widen comically. "No way, more favoured than you?"

"You know I can't compete with you," Wonwoo admits cheekily.

The words send a tingle of warmth up your spine, and you can't help but let out a quiet laugh. It's the kind that feels light and easy, the kind that only he seems to be able to coax out of you effortlessly, and the kind that Wonwoo also feels effect himself𑁋seeing you all smiley and happy is enough to send that heat up crawling up his own neck.

As you walk side by side, the cool, crisp evening air envelops you, and the campus falls into a peaceful hush. Your steps echo faintly against the pavement, the sound of your breaths mingling with the rustle of leaves as you pass by. The familiarity of the journey back to your dormitory grounds you.

But then, as you approach the intersection that leads to your dormitory, Wonwoo hesitates for a moment and gently tugs your hand, causing you to stop.

"You know, uh..." he begins, voice a little softer, shyer, than before. "If you want, you can... sleep over at mine? Since I know that your roommates aren't the best."

He's not wrong𑁋your roommates aren't the best at respecting your need for a quiet and peaceful place to study. You've often found your dorm room filled with noise, distractions, and the constant coming and going of people you don't even know. It's a small, cramped space that makes it difficult to focus, and you've had more than a few sleepless nights because of it.

But as his offer hangs in the air, you feel a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. You know that he is being genuinely considerate and kind, but the idea of spending the night at his place makes your heart race with anxiety.

And those thoughts begin to creep in.

You can't help but fidget, and the familiar knot of self-doubt forms in your chest. You want to say yes𑁋to be able to spend more time with him, but the nerves and insecurities gnaw at the back of your mind.

"I..." You murmur, voice barely above a whisper. "I-I think I'll be fine by myself."

Wonwoo's eyes flicker with concern, yet his face only softens. He reaches a hand over, pushing away a stray strand of hair that has fallen over your eyes. There's a pang of guilt that hits him in the chest for asking.

"Okay." His voice is as soothing as a snuggly blanket on a chilly night. "Just... make sure to get some rest, alright? I don't want you to push yourself too hard."

There's a weak smile that crosses your face, and you feel your eyes flutter shut when you feel the press of his lips against your forehead.

When you open your eyes and look up at him, he's still smiling down at you, grabbing your hand back into his and giving a light squeeze.

The silence between you two is comfortable while making your way in the direction of your dorm. It's always like this when you're with him, like a feeling that's become as familiar as breathing. There's an intimacy in the way the world seems to hush itself when you're together and the outside noises dim, becoming irrelevant.

Wonwoo kisses your forehead again before he lets you go, and you're starting to think that maybe, just maybe, you can take that step.

Not tonight, maybe, but someday soon.

Jeon Wonwoo asked to be your boyfriend on the last day of school of senior year. It happened, conveniently, within the walls of his family-owned cat shelter where at that point, you probably invested more than an entire year's worth of hours needed for school.

It wasn't anything particularly extravagant, nor did it need to be. It was just the two of you, surrounded by the mellow purring of cats after sharing your uneventful summer plans that Wonwoo had asked the question, which left you utterly speechless for a minute or two. Time had stood still, your heart was racing, and you stole a glance at the cats nearby, as if seeking for their approval. Their inquisitive eyes were fixed curiously on the two of you, like witnesses of a love that had just shifted its stem enough to soak in the sunlight.

The moment you accepted with an awfully quiet, heartfelt yes, a shy smile spread across his face, and the tips of his ears flushed a soft pink that matched the colour of delicate cherry blossoms. You remembered the quietness that followed afterward was nothing short of a slightly awkward, giddy jump to your hearts, but that's what made it more endearing, to be honest.

And magically from there, your uneventful summer plans weren't so uneventful after all.

You still had your countless visits to the shelter during summer break, so coming back always felt like a familiar and comforting routine. You've even watched a bunch of your little cat friends getting adopted𑁋Miko was adopted by a single mother seeking for a companion in her studio, and Mochi found her home with an elderly couple who lost their previous cat𑁋yet there's always new ones who capture your heart.

The cat shelter looks more lively with the arrival of autumn. It's been renovated slightly, brightened like the fallen leaves, and the cozy hues of the fall season have been incorporated into the shelter's aesthetic. Small pumpkin decorations fill the shelves, and the walls are showered with maple leaf garlands.

The cats seem to sense the changing season too, some of them basking in the soft light filtering into the shelter.

"Y/N, dear, it's so good to see you!" Wonwoo's grandmother greets you warmly, placing her hands on top of your shoulders and getting a good look at you. "Ah, and you look as beautiful as ever."

You feel your cheeks heat up with her compliment as you hear Wonwoo close the door behind and step up next to you. "It's great to be back. The place looks amazing."

The older woman's eyes twinkle as she looks between the two of you. "It hasn't been the same without both of you around, that's for sure."

She gestures for you both to follow her, and you head deeper into the shelter, joining the cats in their comfortable space as the familiar comfort of the shelter washes over you. It feels like a second home to you.

When Wonwoo's grandmother leaves to tend to some errands, it's just the two of you in the shelter. You and Wonwoo find yourselves sitting on the floor right across from each other, and you watch the way he cradles an affectionate orange tabby named Butter in his arms, a small smile playing on his lips as he gently scratches behind the cat's ear. The cat purrs blissfully, its eyes half-closed, and Wonwoo's expression mirrors the same peacefulness.

But just then, another cat emerges from behind you which startles you. Yet when you look closely, you seem to recognise the familiar pattern of the black and white coating of its fur.

"Loki?" You run a hand through the cat's fur, watching as he curls himself into a comfortable ball on your lap, purring contentedly under your touch. Loki, as you were told before, is one of the oldest residents of the shelter. You remember Wonwoo telling you the struggles of him finding a loving place to go home to, so seeing him right now gives you a bittersweet feeling.

"Ah, I forgot to tell you." Wonwoo's voice pops up as Butter hops off his hold and towards the other cats nearby. "My grandmother decided to adopt him."

That announcement brings a wide smile to your face as you continue to stroke Loki's soft fur. "Really?" Then you softly scratch behind the cat's ear, pressing a small kiss to the top of his head and grinning from the sheer happiness pouring out of you. "You hear that, Loki? You're in good, loving hands now."

Loki only responds by letting out a soft meow, lightly clawing at the sleeves of your sweater.

Wonwoo only grins. He watches the way you shower Loki with attentiveness, fondness, love, and it warms his heart at your caring and gentle nature, to see you so joyful in a place you belong. It's one of the reasons why he had been drawn to you in the first place, one of many things he cherishes about you.

"Have I ever told you how much I love watching you with the cats?"

You pick your head up to look at him, catching the way he's gazing at you with an adoring and almost entranced expression.

"Um." You clear your throat, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through your chest. "You... may have mentioned it once or twice before."

The curve at his lips only grow bigger. He scoots a bit closer to you, so your knees are almost touching, and he continues to watch you. "I'll make sure to keep reminding you, then."

You chuckle at this. "Have you always been so cheesy and sappy?"

"What? You don't like it?" He pouts at this, and you can't help but let out a giggle. "I'm just speaking the truth."

It isn't his fault that he has the urge to shower you with the utmost, not-so-subtle, horribly cheesy praises whenever he sees you. You bring that side out of him, to simply put, and he can't help it. When he's with you, it's like this new side of himself emerges, one that's unguarded, affectionate, and unapologetically... captivated by you. And he'd probably do anything to keep you smiling, to see your eyes light up, to hear your laughter.

He's always adored watching you interact with the cats, even from the first day you stepped foot in this place, nothing but all awkward charm and eagerness. You've always had this natural affinity for animals, always so patient and kind, so reassuring and compassionate. It's a part of you that he finds incredibly admiring.

After some time passes, the door to the shelter dings, and when you pick your head up, you find your eyes widening to the sight of your best friend entering inside.

"What's up, fellas! I'm not missing the party, right?" His presence is unusually loud, but that still doesn't stop the grin at your face.

"Jun!" You quickly yet carefully scramble up from the floor, careful not to disturb Loki, before dashing in the boy's direction. "What the hell? I thought you said you had a competition."

Jun scratches the back of his neck bashfully. "Yeah, uh... I lied."

This earns him a playful, but slightly annoyed shove, shooting him a brief glare that he just smirks about. But then he wraps you in a tight hug, the kind that feels like you haven't seen each other in years, before pulling back to flash a grin at Wonwoo, who only offers a wave since he was busy tending to something in the back.

"You should have told me you were coming," You scold him lightly, knocking your shoulder against his. "I would have met up with you earlier."

Jun only shrugs, giving you a look of disbelief. He ruffles your hair playfully, and you swat his hand away with a frown. "Where's the fun in that? I wanted to surprise you."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever, I'm glad you're here, dingus."

"You better be," the taller boy teases, before gazing past your shoulders and looking back at you. "Wanna head out for a bit? You need to spill."

You scoff lightly, giving a nod. You head to the back to tell Wonwoo, who had been helping out with some tasks in the shelter, that you're going to step out with Jun for a while. He tells you to take your time and be careful, watching as you and Jun step out of the shelter together, a boyish smile crossing over his face.

"So, spill," Jun prompts as the street vendor hands you a warm cup of street tteokbokki. You both find a cozy spot on a nearby bench, the crisp autumn air nipping at your cheeks as you blow on the food to help cool it down. The warmth spreads through your fingers, seeping into your bones, and you feel a sense of comfort settling in as you take a bite.

"What do you want me to spill?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at Jun as you lean back against the bench.

"You know exactly what I mean. Wonwoo, duh." Ugh, he's nosy and infuriating as always, but it's been a while since you've had a heart-to-heart talk with your best friend.

There's a very faint, dreamy curve that plays at your lips at the mention of Wonwoo's name.

"Well, um... He's... he's amazing, you know? He's patient, caring, considerate," You say, picking at the steaming tteokbokki absentmindedly. Amazing doesn't even begin to describe him, but you find yourself struggling to put your thoughts into words. "but it's also kind of scary because he's so amazing. Like, he's smart, talented, and he comes from a really good family..."

"Ah, those thoughts again," Jun remarks knowingly as your voice trails off.

"Yeah." Those thoughts is right, unfortunately. "It's... just me, I guess. I feel like I don't deserve him sometimes."

"Hey, it's normal to feel that way," Jun says, pointing his chopsticks at you. "But honestly, I think you're underestimating yourself. If he didn't see something special in you, he wouldn't be with you."

You lift a brow at him. "Since when did you get so wise to use your brain for once?"

"Dude, we're in college. Everyone's having love problems and shit." Jun smirks, and you can't help but snicker. "I mean, you're lucky you found someone. There's people I know out there swiping right on dating apps and getting ghosted."

You shake your head, a hint of amusement on your face. "Yeah, it's just... I-I don't know. It's all so new, and he's so patient, but what if between all that... I'm not, um... making him happy?"

"Trust me, you make him happy," Jun reassures boldly, his words making your chest feel lighter, yet you know it might not take long for your thoughts to say otherwise. "But have you both...?"

You stare at him, trying to decipher the odd way he's looking at you, and suddenly it clicks.

"Jun, seriously?" You frown, a flush creeping onto your cheeks, resisting the urge to yank a piece of tteokbokki in his face.

"What?" Jun asks innocently, but there's a sly grin on his face. "Did you think... Oh my gosh, that's not what I meant, you weirdo! Have you two kissed?"

It still doesn't help the way your face grows even warmer out of embarrassment and from the spice of the tteokbokki. You've never kissed kissed before, but he has kissed you𑁋on the cheek, the knuckles of your hand, your forehead, the top of your head. You like those kinds of kisses that he gives you, but the thought of a real one, that heart-pounding, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of kiss, has always been both thrilling and terrifying to you.

There were a few times where it nearly happened𑁋a few times where, at that moment, you wanted it to happen𑁋where your faces were inches apart after he walks you back your dorm, standing in front of the door, but then a burst of awkward laughter, or your own nerves would break the spell. He'd end up placing a simple, lingering kiss to your hair like he always does, yet that alone is enough to make you feel on cloud nine.

"No, we haven't... yet." You swallow another piece of tteokbokki, feeling a little self-conscious. "I... I guess I've just been a little nervous. What if I mess it up?"

"Y/N!" Jun exclaims dramatically, peering at you incredulously. "How could you mess up a first kiss?"

You laugh airily at his reaction. "I-I don't know! What if it's not what he expects, or... it's bad? I just don't want to disappoint him or anything."

"Y/N fucking L/N𑁋"

"Yeah, I'm overthinking again, aren't I?" Gosh, why are you like this? You bite down another piece of tteokbokki in shame. "Sorry."

"You'll be fine! Trust me, it's not as complicated as you think. If anything, he's probably just as nervous as you are."

"What do you know? You haven't kissed anyone yet," You mumble lowly, and when you notice the quietness after your words and catch sight of Jun's reddening face, you let out a gasp this time, literally dropping a piece of tteokbokki on your pants. "Yah, Wen Junhui!"

[11:59pm | y/n 🤍] wonu?? are u awake?

[12:00am | wonu 💘] no i'm asleep

[12:00am | y/n 🤍] oh 😔

[12:01am | wonu 💘] but i'm awake now are you okay?

[12:02am | y/n 🤍] do you... feel happy when you're with me? (NOT DELIVERED!)

[12:02am | y/n 🤍] i just feel like i don't deserve you sometimes (NOT DELIVERED!)

[12:04am | wonu 💘] is it just one of those nights again?

[12:04am | y/n 🤍] yeah, i'm sorry

[12:05 | wonu 💘] you know i'm here for you, right?

[12:05am | y/n 🤍] i don't want you to deal with my stupid insecurities (NOT DELIVERED!)

[12:06am | y/n 🤍] i know, i'm sorry i woke you up i'll be okay, just need some time

[12:06am | wonu 💘] take your time, angel we can talk when you're ready, yeah? no rush?

[12:07am | y/n 🤍] yeah, okay i'll try and sleep now goodnight wonu :)

[12:07am | wonu 💘] goodnight, y/n :) dream of something beautiful, okay?

You do. You dream of him holding you one day, arms wrapped around you like a protective cocoon and the warmth of his breath hitting your skin.

Knowing you have an entire week without the stress of school is a bit daunting. It feels incredibly liberating, yet still doesn't clear away the cloud of uncertainties flying around your head.

Being back in your own home isn't your favourite place in the world, as inconsiderate that might sound. It's always met with merely the same conversations as always with your parents: how have your grades been? Have you been studying enough? It's always same fucking cycle.

And it's not that your parents are unkind or don't care about you; they just have their own way of showing it, a way that often feels overbearing and suffocating. You love being home, but you don't love the shadows lurking in the corners of the room that whisper doubt into your ears.

It's hard to shake off this feeling of inadequacy, especially when you're constantly reminded of it, even in the most subtle ways. Sometimes it feels like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, constantly striving for perfection, for approval, for validation, only for that effort to be met with indifference, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. There is always that tiny, critical voice in your head telling you that it's not enough𑁋that you're not enough.

It's exhausting.

So it isn't surprising that your mood is far from upbeat as you stroll down the street, taking in the slightly musky air, grey clouds in the sky threatening potential rain, and the sight of yellow, orange, and red leaves falling to the ground. It's around evening time, and you find yourself slowly trailing in the direction of the cat shelter, which is where Wonwoo is, since he's allowing his grandmother to rest while he takes care of the shelter for the time being.

He's such a sweetheart, honestly.

There's a droplet that lands on your head, but you don't seem to exactly notice, or really care. You kick a dry leaf down the cracked, barren pavement and it skitters way in the cool breeze, sending a chill running down your skin even through the sweater you had, which may be a bit too thin.

The rain starts to come down more steadily, and for a moment, helps ease the weight of your thoughts. It's not a heavy rain, but it's enough to make you shiver and really wish you had brought an umbrella. A disappointed sigh leaves your lips at the thought as you're about to approach the outskirts of your neighbourhood, knowing well enough that heading back to your house is a much farther walk than the shelter.

You're about to turn back anyway, thinking it's not the best time to visit, when you hear a familiar, awfully faint sound𑁋a meow.

The sound tugs at your heartstrings, some panic crawling into your veins as your gaze flickers around. Your eyes scan anywhere they can reach, and your insistent feet take you in every place that they can, but you don't see any sign of a cat. The rain continues to drizzle even harder, beginning to feel the water starting to seep through the material of your sweater, and you feel a pang of worry settle in your chest, hoping the cat isn't caught out in the cold.

As you take a few steps forward, your ears catch the sound again, a bit louder this time, coming from behind the thick bushes at the side of the road. Cautiously, you part the wet branches and peer through the leaves, and there, sheltered beneath the foliage, you find a small, shivering, and completely drenched kitten.

The kitten is probably no older than a few months, and stares up at you with wide, frightened bright green eyes. Its tiny, wet body is trembling in the cold, and you can't help but feel your heart break at the sight. It lets out another weak whimper at the sight of you, with big, frightened eyes gazing up at you. When you crouch down and attempt to extend a hand out, the kitten only steps back.

"Hey, it-it's okay," You reassure softly, reaching your hand again. "I just want to help you. You can't be out here like this."

But to your avail, the kitten lets out a pitiful mewl, only retreating further into the bush, and you can feel the branches trying to poke at your skin through your sweater. You see the way its tiny body is shivering, and its fur clings to its skin, drenched by the rain which was only getting stronger. You take a deep breath.

"I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" You take a step back, feeling the uncomfortable shift of your position. "I promise I'll keep you safe and warm."

The kitten watches you with apprehensive eyes as you continue to speak softly. Then you extend an arm out again, and slowly, carefully, the kitten inches forward, its movements cautious and wary, and you let it take a sniff of your hand, hoping that your scent is able to coax it out of hiding.

The kitten sniffs your hand tentatively, and after a few long moments, it decides to take a chance. It moves closer, tiny, pink nose nuzzling against your damp fingers as if searching for comfort, and you notice the limp in one of its legs as well. You can see how frightened and vulnerable it is, and your heart aches even more, but you're determined𑁋determined to help this poor kitten.

Slowly, you start to pet the kitten, keeping your touch gentle and soothing.

"There you go, little one," You murmur, continuing to stroke the kitten's wet fur. "You're safe now. Let's get you out of this rain, okay? I'm going to make sure you're taken care of."

The kitten is so light, its body small and fragile, and its fur is a soggy mess. You carefully cradle it in your arms, seemingly fitting perfectly within your hold while trying to shield it from the rain, and the trembling starts to subside just a little as it feels the warmth of your body. You find yourself shivering even more as you step out of the bush, the sweater you're wearing sticking to your skin, but you don't care.

It nuzzles closer to your warmth, and you can feel the rapid, erratic beating of its heart𑁋a heart that has probably never known safety or comfort until now.

You hold the kitten close to your chest, quickly making your way to the shelter as the rain pours down heavily around you.

The door to the shelter chimes and bounces off the walls of the quiet shelter, making Wonwoo's brows knit together dazedly𑁋who could be here at this hour? He overhears the strong pitter-patter of rain outside hitting the windows as he puts down the metal bowl in his hands before making his way to the front of the shelter.

What he doesn't expect is to be greeted with the sight of you𑁋pretty much drenched from head to toe, hair plastered to your face and the colours of your sweater practically dark, all the water absorbed within its fibres. Rainwater drips from your nose, and your teeth chatter together from the cold. You're trembling as you hold the tiny, trembling kitten in your arms, cradling it close to your chest.

"Y/N?" Wonwoo calls out to you, noticing the way you're shivering in place.

"Um, I-I... I found a kitten," You stutter shakily, holding out the tiny, trembling kitten in your arms, eyes noticeably red as if you've been crying. "It-It's hurt, and I couldn't just let it stay out there..."

"You're shivering," Wonwoo points out worriedly.

"I-I'm fine, but the kitten𑁋"

Wonwoo doesn't let you finish your sentence; instead, he takes one of your hands into his and drags you to the back of the shelter. Instinctively, he's quick to retrieve a towel to wrap around the kitten as he brings it into his arms from yours. He creates a cozy, makeshift area on the table to set the kitten down before wrapping the kitten in the towel, being extra cautious of its injured leg. The kitten only lets out curious meows, eyes closing to the feeling of Wonwoo delicately drying its fur. It doesn't take long for the colours of its fur to start blooming back.

On the other hand, you grab yourself a towel of your own to wrap around you, pacing back and forth anxiously. When Wonwoo emerges back, his face only softens when he catches sight of you.

"She'll be okay," he says, approaching up to you. "I'll take her to the vet first thing in the morning."

"Can I come?" You ask, though the answer is already somewhat obvious𑁋you asking makes him let out a soft chuckle, which was enough to tell you of course.

Wonwoo just nods, keeping his gaze locked on you as if in contemplation, before he approaches and carefully wraps you in his arms, knowing that you must be cold and shaken from the rain. At first, you shift in his hold, but as you feel the warmth from his body seep into your skin, you find yourself relaxing.

He holds you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face into his chest, some water from your hair dripping onto his clothes. The scent of the shelter, a mix of disinfectant and the familiar musk of the cats, as well as Wonwoo, suspend in the air, and you find comfort in the familiarity of it all.

Outside, the rain still pours, yet could only listen to the the comforting hum of the heater, the soft purring of the cats, and the oddly soothing way you can listen to Wonwoo's steady, yet also somewhat unsteady heartbeat.

"It's going to be okay," he murmurs against your hair, his breath sending a shiver down your spine, but this time, it's not from the cold.

"She was... she was so scared," You mutter into his chest. "Who could've done this to her? Who could've... just left her there?" There's a hint of anger and sadness in your voice that makes it quiver, and Wonwoo could only tighten his hold around you.

He doesn't have all the answers, but he knows that what matters right now is that you're here, and you're okay, and that the kitten is safe.

When you pull back, you find yourself looking at him, and time stands still. Despite the intensity of his eyes on you, you barely catch the way his breath seems to hitch when you blink up at him, his hands falling down to plant at your waist lightly. Your faces𑁋lips𑁋are merely inches apart, and you can feel the warmth of his slightly shaky breath hit your skin.

You've never been this close to someone, never felt the warmth of their breath, never stared into their eyes with such intimacy. It's almost overwhelming how vulnerable this closeness makes you feel.

Wonwoo's eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, and there's a moment of hesitation. You feel the soft, hesitant pressure of his hands on your waist, and his thumbs draw slow circles against your sides. He's silently asking for your consent from the way he lingers, waiting for any sign that you might want this as much as he does, any sign that you might object. Your breath hitches as he leans in just a fraction closer, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs. You're both aware of the moment, how close you are to each other, as your lips hover so tantalisingly close to each other.

And a faint, almost imperceptible nod from you is all it takes.

The look of surprise in his eyes isn't hard to miss, along with the way he seems to swallow a nervous lump in his throat. When he draws his lips closer to yours, you find your eyes fluttering shut.

But just as the distance between you both shortens, a sudden, loud crash of thunder shakes the shelter, making both of you jump back. A wave of meows fill the room, and the startled reaction of the cats snaps you both back to reality. Your arms remain around each other, and the moment is broken, and it doesn't take long for the two of you to exchange a nervous chuckle.

"We… we should probably get you dried off properly," he says ruefully, softly, voice barely above a whisper as he pushes his glasses back up, the tips of his ears reddening. "Wouldn't want you catching a cold."

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, the heat in your face still lingering. "Y-Yeah."

You both share another awkward laugh, though the lingering tension between you doesn't quite disappear. Wonwoo retrieves another towel, this time for you, and helps you dry off your hair and clothes as best as he can. There's a gentle tenderness in his actions, like in the way he brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face and the warmth in his eyes as he looks at you, as if he's treating something fragile and precious. The soft touch of his hands against your skin sends shivers down your spine, but you try to focus on getting warm and dry.

Afterward, he insists that you change into something dry, which ended up with him taking off the button-up cardigan that he was wearing and lending it to you even though it's a bit too big, but is incredibly warm and smells like him, which left him in sporting just a large, plain white t-shirt.

You change quickly in a more private area of the shelter, and when you return to the main room, you see Wonwoo hovering above the kitten.

"She's asleep," he tells you when you come close, not before briefly taking in the sight of you in his cardigan. He looks away, a shy grin that he has to bite back. "I think she'll be okay until we take her to the vet in the morning."

You glance down at the kitten, seeing the way she's perfectly curled up in a snug bed he prepared, the towel wrapped around her small body as a makeshift blanket. The colour of her fur is that of a deep solid space grey𑁋a colour heavily associated with the Russian Blue cats. One of her little legs is wrapped in a small plaster, and she seems much more comfortable now. Wonwoo reaches out to stroke the kitten's fur, and the purring starts again, but her eyes don't open.

"She seems so much safer now," You murmur, watching her for a moment longer. You also let your fingers run over her fur, you and Wonwoo's hands brushing against each other briefly, a simple touch that sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You're still holding onto that moment from earlier, and you can tell that Wonwoo feels it too by the way he hesitates before pulling his hand away.

In the background, the rain has gotten lighter, the sound more of a calming, rhythmic patter against the roof. Most of the cats seemed to have settled back down, and the shelter feels warm and cozy despite the gloomy weather outside.

"Do you want to name her?" Wonwoo asks you, nudging his index finger against her little hand.

You look down at the peacefully sleeping kitten, her soft breaths making her seem even more fragile. After a small pause, you smile softly.

"Mmmh..." You tilt your head, observing the sleeping kitten once more, scanning over her grey fur and the tranquil expression on her cute, tiny face. "How about... 'Luna'?"

Wonwoo's eyes only light up even brighter, just like moon itself. "Luna it is, then."

You rest your head on the table as if trying to get to Luna's eye level.

"Hi, Luna," You coo quietly, careful not to startle her. "I'm going to make sure you find a loving home, alright? I'll make sure of it. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Luna stirs ever so slightly, her little paws kneading the air as if responding to the name and the happiness you promise.

If someone were to stand far away from you, they would probably only see the weariness that passes through your eyes and the relaxed curve to your lips. But Wonwoo likes this up close view of you𑁋the way your pupils seem to be filled with comfort that rivals the soft glow of the morning sun, the way your smile radiates nothing but warmth, and all this love you carry within yourself that makes his heart just a bit more weak. He sees the way your gaze lingers, the way you seem to see a story in Luna's closed eyes, a story that you want to rewrite with just the word home.

And while you keep your eyes on Luna, Wonwoo's eyes only remain on you.

"Do you seriously have to work on your photography project now?"

Your voice catches Wonwoo's attention, causing him to glance up from the camera in his hands and look at you. You had both of your hands in your pockets, encased comfortably in a sweater that still somehow brought some chills up your skin, and a pout to your face with your eyes narrowed in his direction.

"Well, the point of the project is to catch something beautiful and write an analysis about it, and it’s a beautiful day, so…" Wonwoo specifies playfully, before putting his eye back on eyepiece and directing the camera towards you, and he captures a few of you in your cute, somewhat disheveled glory, and there's a couple of pictures of you attempting to hide your face and the shy smile that running across it.

As he continues to snap photos, you swear you catch a glimpse of the fondness in his eyes. He's not just capturing a random moment; he's capturing you, and it's bringing back that warm and fuzzy feeling to your chest. Your cheeks flush, unsure if it's from the cold grazing your face or Wonwoo himself, and you look down, suddenly feeling all too bashful.

When he finally lowers it, he turns to you with a soft smile.

"Perfect," he murmurs, securing the camera back around his neck and under his scarf.

"You're not going use those for your project, right?"

"Nope," he replies simply as he runs up to catch up to you, your shoulders brushing up against each other. "These are just for me."

Your stomach jumps at his response, feeling a sense of warmth enveloping within you despite the chilly air. The crisp breeze tugs at your sweater, making you shiver, and you huddle deeper into it as much as you can. As you continue walking, Wonwoo's gaze keeps flickering to you, his brows furrowing slightly, and he glances down at the navy blue scarf wrapped around his own neck.

It wasn't until you feel something warm and soft drape around your shoulders, and you look over to find that Wonwoo has smoothly wrapped his scarf around you, his own neck now exposed to the cold breeze.

"What are you doing?" You ask, voice filled with surprise and a hint of concern. "Wonwoo, you'll get cold."

All he does is shake his head. "I'll be fine. I want you to be warm."

You're about to protest, but you can only freeze as he secures the scarf around your neck. The gesture warms not only your body but also your heart, yet you're aware of his susceptibility to the cold as well. The scarf also, once again, smells like him, a mixture of a subtle musky cologne, a comforting hint of fresh laundry, and a trace of his natural scent, which is uniquely his own.

But as you peer at him, seeing the way he's shivering and how his hands slip into his pockets, you could only frown.

So being as stubborn as you can be, you step up to him, making sure to move the camera around his neck out of the way before allowing your arms to wrap around him as if trying to share your own warmth with him. You press yourself as close to him as possible, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. You're shorter than him, but it doesn't matter to you at all (though, admittedly, Wonwoo loves it).

For a moment, you both stand there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the chill of the air is momentarily forgotten.

"Sorry, I just..." You start, voice slightly muffled against his chest. "Don't want you to be cold either."

Wonwoo's laughter rumbles through his chest as he holds you closer, even though he's still shivering a bit, which only made you more determined to keep him warm. He tightens his embrace around you, holding you close, letting his head rest on top of yours.

After a few moments, you pull back a bit, meeting his gaze as you look up at him diffidently, briefly catching sight of his soft lips. A moment of temptation washes over you as you gaze at his mouth, and you feel the urge to lean in just like back in the shelter the other day.

But your fucking nerves and anxiety hold you back once again.

So instead, you tip-toe just a bit and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, which was dusted with pink from the cold, instinctively seeing the way he cutely scrunches it. Wonwoo blinks in surprise, his lips parting slightly, and before he can react, you quickly pull away, a playful grin on your face.

You were never usually the one to initiate physical affection, but in this moment, something in you shifted, and it felt... right.

"What..." Wonwoo mumbles under his breath. "What was that for?"

It's the way you shrug almost innocently that gets his head spinning.

"Your nose looked cold," You respond impishly.

Oh, he's gone. You don't exactly know it but he is𑁋irrevocably smitten, enamoured, completely caught under your web. In just that single second, he swears he's reduced to an atom, a small, insignificant particle bound to your gravitational pull.

He still can't get himself to respond even from the way your face seems to brighten.

"Come on, let's get to the shelter. I want to see Luna." You reach down to grab his hand, tugging lightly, before dragging him in the direction of the shelter before it gets too cold.

And he just lets you drag him, still caught in a daze the entire way.

Fortunately, the vet found that Luna's injury was not too severe; it only a small sprain in her leg and with proper care, she would recover just fine. This still didn't stop you from spending time with her though, and there are times where Wonwoo would find you in the back of the shelter, where Luna was sprawled sleepily on the table and you would be dozed off right next to her. The two of you resemble each other a lot, a thought that often entertains Wonwoo.

"It's only just a little catnap!" You had claimed, but both you and Wonwoo knew that it was much more than that.

(He also just really likes seeing how cute you are draped in a blanket𑁋or draped in something owned by him in general).

Luna is settled in your lap on the floor, and Loki doesn't seem exactly fond with the new addition to the shelter who had stolen away your attention. So he trails over to Wonwoo instead, who easily picks him up without any hesitation, stroking the grumpy cat's fur as he sits down right next to you. Loki purrs appreciatively in Wonwoo's arms, occasionally casting a slightly jealous glance in Luna's direction.

"I can't believe that we have to go back to school tomorrow," You mutter disappointingly, watching Luna play with a loose thread on your sweater, batting at it with her tiny paw.

"Time flies, doesn't it?" Wonwoo acknowledges sympathetically.

"Yeah, it does," You muse lowly. "But if I could spend all my time here, I would."

"You know that you're welcome here anytime, right?" Wonwoo reassures you. "You could even come here without me, if you want."

You tilt your head at him, scowling playfully. "But... I'd rather be here with you."

A warm blush creeps onto Wonwoo's cheeks at your words. He looks down at Loki, who's comfortably settled in his arms, and then back at you, a fond smile playing on his lips.

"Did you have a good break though?" he asks. "I never got the chance to ask."

You fret out a sigh. Aside from the times you spent with Wonwoo and in the shelter, thinking about how you felt during the break was all too unnerving. "It's... what I expected, you know? Just... you know how my parents are. They always find a way to kind of just... I don't know... make me feel like I'm not enough, I guess?"

Wonwoo only hums in response, quietly listening as you seem to find the voice to spill the thoughts you've been holding in for the longest time.

"and... it's been like this for years. They never change, and so whenever something good happens, I feel like I don't deserve it." Then you pause, taking in a deep breath. "I-I feel like I don't deserve you sometimes."

This makes Wonwoo bring his attention back up, and he's met with your faint smile and eyes that seemed to be filled with guilt.

"I get scared if I show too much, I'll... I don't know, drive you away? Or if I let myself be too happy, I... end up pushing everyone away, and I can't help it because I don't want to push you away𑁋"

"Then pull me in." Wonwoo's voice is soft yet determined. "You know I'm not going anywhere, right? I'm not running away from you, not now, I don’t plan to.”

You could only stare at him; not blankly, but with an intensity that reflects the emotions swirling around your head.

In this world, you never quite felt good enough, smart enough, or pretty enough. You often questioned why someone as amazing as Wonwoo would be interested in someone like you𑁋someone who constantly felt like they were fumbling through life unnoticeably, someone who listened to their head more than their heart, searching for a place to belong, as you felt like you never fit in anywhere.

In this world, you cherished being alone, so you could burden yourself with your own thoughts. It’s different now𑁋being able to crave someone else’s company more than your own, grappling with the thought that another person wants to get to know you, and you’re giving them the chance to unravel you.

"You're more than enough for me, because you’re you, and I like you," he continues. "You can pull me in, and let me share even a small percentage of your thoughts, because that's with this is, right? We're a team."

A team, the words echo in your mind.

"Have you seen how big your heart is?" Wonwoo questions empathetically. "You give so much of yourself, to the cats, to me. It's no wonder they adore you, and... it's no wonder I do too."

He takes a moment to let his words sink in, giving you the space to process the weight of his sentiment. As you look at him, you notice the genuine affection in his eyes, and a flicker of hope ignites within you. Perhaps there is more to you than you allow yourself to believe.

"And... I hope one day I'll be able to get you to see yourself the way I see you, that a part of your heart will have a space for yourself too, because it's okay to be happy,” he says. "You deserve me. I have worries too, you know, but... being with you makes it all a little easier. Maybe I can make it a little easier for you too, if you'll let me in. We can make it easy together."

We can make it easy together, because not every heart can love itself so simply.

There's a few minutes of silence that passes, and you feel all too tongue-tied to think of a proper response, but it's comforting this way. It's the simple act of being there, existing right next to each other, of accepting each other for who you are, and sharing your vulnerabilities that truly matter.

Luna shifts in your hold, and when you peer down at her, you swear you can see yourself in her tiny, sleepy form: someone so fragile, someone deserving of care, someone deserving of the same care that you give her.

It's the silence alone that feels enough to convey that yeah, everything will be alright as long as you have each other.

"She kind of looks like you."

You take a moment to glance up at Wonwoo, giving him an affectionate smile, before bringing Luna up closer to your face.

"You think so?" You ask as you gently stroke Luna's soft fur, and he nods with a soft grin. "I guess we do look alike."

[03:41am | y/n] hi um i think i want to kiss wonwoo now

[10:03am | mf jerry wen] did u srsly just fucking text me at 3am that u want to kiss ur boyfriend u goddamn insomniac also TMI ew gross 🤮🤮 get a room

[10:05am | mf jerry wen] actually ridiculous ANYWAY (ATTACHMENT: 4 VIDEOS)

[10:09am | y/n] STFU STOP SPAMMING MY PHONE W TIKTOKS IM TRYING TO SLEEP

[10:11am | mf jerry wen] WELL WHOSE FAULT IS THAT 🤨 BE GRATEFUL IM WISHING U GOOD LUCK IDIOT REMEMBER TO BRUSH UR TEETH AND PUT ON CHAPSTICK OR SUM

[10:13am | mf jerry wen] okay wait r u being like fr serious rn like u want to do the whole mouth to mouth resuscitation shebang

[10:18am | y/n] whatever the hell that means also how tf do u know the word resuscitation

[10:19am | mf jerry wen] i'm cpr certified 🥰

[10:19am | y/n] when the fuck ykw i'm not even gonna question it i'm going back to sleep

[10:20am | mf jerry wen] HAPPY KISSING BESTIE 💞🤭🥰🫶💘❣️😍😻

"Ready to head out?" Wonwoo asks, standing patiently while you dispose of some trash.

"Yeah, just about to be," You tell him as you throw away your empty cup into the trash bin. When you walk in Wonwoo's direction, he already has his hand out for you, and you take it with a shy, grateful smile.

Outside, the world is hushed and peaceful, still like in a singular picture frame, but in an odd way, a bit brighter than before𑁋perhaps from all the streetlights being on, or perhaps from the quiet excitement of the evening. The weather has been slowly getting colder, and you're both finally bundled up enough to handle the chill. The walk back to your dorm is as quiet as ever, only the occasional sound of leaves rustling and your own footsteps the only disruptions to the silence.

Mid-term season is finally over, and you both managed to find the time to celebrate together by going to a new café that had opened near campus. It was a simple, yet incredibly needed escape from the life of university, or life in general. You haven't felt so relaxed and contented in a while, the weight of exams and assignments lifting from your shoulders.

As the sight of your dorm comes up though, you feel a wave of reluctance hit over you.

You don't want the evening to end just yet.

So when you both finally pause in front of the doors to your dorm, you turn to face him. It's about to be that familiar scene of goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow with him, but something inside of you is telling you that you'd rather see tomorrow... with him right next to you.

"I had a good time tonight," Wonwoo says softly, his gaze lingering on your face. His eyes reflect the dimly lit surroundings, and his fingers gently squeeze your hand.

You smile at him, feeling your cheeks warm at his words. "Me too."

Another round of silence passes as you glance between him and the doors to your dorm. You take in a deep breath.

"I... I was wondering..." You start, already trailing off your words and mentally face-palming yourself from the nerves coursing within. "if... if that offer to stay at your place is still open?"

His eyes widen ever so slightly.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "You don't have to if you don't want𑁋"

"I do," You quickly assure him, interrupting his hesitations. "I really want to."

With that, you both continue walking past your dorm, leaving behind the familiar in exchange for the unknown. The walk is brisk, the chill in the air making you huddle closer together. Every now and then, your eyes meet, and the corners of your lips quirk up from excitement, and most obviously, nervousness.

Because, in fact, you're both equally as nervous.

That nervousness lingers like a quiet undercurrent as you approach Wonwoo's apartment. You can feel your heart beating a little faster, and you're sure he can sense it too. It's the kind of nervousness that accompanies with something new and exciting.

Wonwoo was lucky enough to not have to deal with the absolute insanity it comes with living in a dormitory. The peace and quietness was something you loved right away, and when he finally leads you up the front door, you feel the nerves resurface once again knowing you're here, and there's no going back now.

You watch amusedly as Wonwoo fumbles with opening the door to his place, and when it unlocks, he steps back to stand right next to you, as if allowing you to make the decision of going in yourself.

However, you could only keep looking at him, and you can see the anticipation in his eyes, the same nervous energy that was coursing through you. It was just the two of you, standing in front of his apartment door, aware of this next step into the unknown.

Wonwoo has been nothing but patient with you. He's told and showed you more times than you can count on your hands and feet that he respects your pace and that he's willing to wait for you to be ready. But there's something about tonight, standing here on the edge of something new, that makes you want to take that leap of faith.

Because you're a team, and you're together.

"I-I really want to kiss you right now," You blurt out, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can even think about it, and you feel your face flush out of embarrassment.

Wonwoo swears that simple statement just knocked the life out of him, clearly taken aback, but the surprise soon transforms into a soft, adoring smile. His glance switches from your eyes and settles on your lips and back up to your eyes again. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you wonder if he can hear it too.

"But I'm uh... really nervous," You stammer out shakily, feeling overwhelmingly vulnerable and exposed that you feel like you can probably burst. "I don't... really know how..."

"It's okay." Wonwoo just chuckles, stepping closer to you and leaning in, lips just a breath away from yours. "I'm nervous too."

You feel him put both of his hands at your waist, drawing you closer to him, and the warmth of his touch radiates through the layers of clothing. The soft glow of the hallway light casts on his face, illuminating his warm smile and the sparkle in his eyes. He leans in slowly, giving you time to adjust, stopping right before your lips can meet.

"Can I?" he whispers, his warm breath brushing against your lips, eyes searching yours for consent.

Your heart skips a beat as you nod slightly. The nervousness is still there, evident in the way your fingers twitch lightly, but it's now laced with sweet anticipation. Wonwoo closes the distance between you both, eyes closing as he lets his lips brush against yours a bit hesitantly and tentatively. It's a soft, cautious kiss at first, a testing of waters, and you aren't sure what to do with your hands or how to respond. But as you relax into it, and you kiss him back a bit unconfidently, your hands find their place on his chest, and you can feel the erratic pace of his heart.

His lips taste of comfort and the lingering sweetness of the hot chocolate you both ordered earlier at the café. The world seems to come to a halt; nothing else seems to matter. The hallway light flickers briefly, before shining down like a spotlight on the two of you, highlighting this moment into something incredibly special, a memory etched in your heart. Your initial nervous thoughts had become completely invaded by the thought of only Wonwoo, his lips, his touch, his presence𑁋everything else simply fades into the background.

You can feel the way he smiles under the kiss, the subtle curve of his lips against yours as the kiss deepens ever so slightly, and you can't help but smile too, the corners of your lips turning up as well. There's a gentle urgency in the way his lips move against yours, but he keeps it tender, careful not to rush. Your fingers press gently into Wonwoo's chest as you feel his heartbeat racing under your touch, and his hands on your waist tighten ever so slightly, pulling you even closer.

Yet it isn't until you can feel the way his glasses are slightly pressed against your face that makes you giggle into the kiss.

"Won𑁋" Another bubble of muffled laughter escapes you as he continues to kiss you, his lips teasingly chasing yours and cutting your words off.

Then after a moment, he pulls back to catch some air, and you couldn't help but softly laugh at the way his glasses are endearingly crooked on his face.

"I'm sorry, it's just... Your glasses," You manage to say between breathless, light chuckles, bringing a hand up to readjust them for him on his nose.

He's staring at you with a starry-eyed look as you fix his glasses for him, adoring your concentrated face, and the moment you pull back to look at him, he can't help but press another brief kiss to your lips once more, catching you off-guard.

"Sorry, I..." he mutters apologetically. "Are you... are you okay?"

He tries to scan over your face, searching for any telltale signs of discomfort or hesitation, but all he finds is nothing but the warmth in your eyes and the smile on your lips.

"I'm more than okay," You assure him, pecking him on the lips swiftly, even though your heart is pounding and your head is spinning in circles. You could say that you're absolutely freaking the fuck out and that you might go into cardiac arrest, but you don't, because this is okay𑁋you're okay. "I'm very okay."

You both stand there for a moment, listening to the sounds of each other's heavy breathing as if you're sharing the same rhythm, the same heartbeat. There's that look in his face again𑁋an earnest look of admiration, affection, and longing, like he's trying to engrave every detail of your face, of this moment, into his memory, or like you’ve hung up all the stars in the sky above.

It isn't until a sudden chill makes you both shiver that the two of you notice you're still standing outside in the hallway.

"We should probably head inside," he suggests coyly, and you nod in agreement.

"Yeah." You giddily reach down to grab his hand right away. "We should."

another note: hehe ty for reading 🫶

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @wqnwoos @freshmint54

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[blueparadis]

a concept:

tattoo artist kaeya having a thing for u, his regular client rosaria's cute little roommate, who is the exact opposite of her. he feels bad for touching himself to the thoughts of u but he can't help himself bc he likes u so much

❝ INKED SECRETS ❞ + KAEYA ALBERICH !

+. CWs —» tattoo artist au + modern au, f!reader, fluff, light angst with comfort, some canon elements, love at first sight, mention of cigarette smoking, bad relationships, hookups, stranger to lovers, smut ( fantasies, m-mastarbation ) ; word count — 2k.

+. NOTES —» thanks to my beloved yoru ( @anantaru) for helping me and beta reading this otherwise i would've opened the gates of kaeya-brainrot; also, thank you for being patient. This ask was almost a month old and I know this was supposed to be short but the thing is kaeya is the one who had me invested in genshin impact. However, surprisingly I've never thought of writing about him so thank you for your muse. I loved writing this so fucking much. Thank you. Tattoo artist kaeya shall live forever in my mind. If you wanna check more of my writings, click here.

Kaeya Alberich. The name of the mystery man who would always be the talk of the topic for Rosaria. He was more familiar to you than your roommate ever was. You two shared a room yet you could never read Rosaria but she was thorough with you; maybe that is why you two clicked. Every one of your friends considered it a mystery how a sunflower like you would ever survive in the company of a moon. Everyone including Kaeya. He had his own proportion of confusion every time Rosaria talked about you. 

Kaeya knew how you looked, talked, and liked to eat ice cream in winter. Not only that, your favorite colors, bits and pieces of your small dreams were known to him. And all because Rosaria wouldn’t stop with the constant blabbering about you whenever he directly hung out with her, emphasizing the fact that you were nothing but an angel in disguise. Kaeya had to endure all of it, every bit of you that Rosaria seemed to find alluring. At moments like this, one could say that they exchanged personas since Kaeya was a guy of smiles and chitter-chatter while Rosaria was quite the opposite.

True, the friendship between Kaeya and Rosaria was another talk of Mondstadt’s inhabitants, but they both did not seem to react as people expected, as people thought they should. You would, barely, call them lovers. While Kaeya enjoyed different takes of his customers about Rosaria, she, on the other hand, brushed those petty rumors off, with just a glance keeping her stoic persona. 

But, among all these happenings, Rosaria had the front-row seat of the chaos that was about to unfold. She had her beauty salon just above Kaeya’s tattoo parlor. They have been working together for at least five years. Rosaria had her shop on rental and the five-storied complex was owned by none other than Kaeya Alberich himself. 

Anyone who wanted to go to her parlor had to cross Kaeya’s floor; hence, no one slipped past the grip of his galactic eyes. He knew the regulars of her shop and had an immense influence on them. He believed it was his charms while Rosaria begged to differ.

But she was just being professional, clearing non-financial tabs that she owed to him, for bringing the immense influx of customers to her salon. Sometimes, it worked both ways, but whenever they fought, the elders of the locality had more spice to flavor the rumors that had just started sedimenting.

January, the prime of winter, of snow and the freezing cold, Kaeya laid his first glance at you. Warm and alluring: you were every bit of beauty that Rosaria spoke of, in fact, now that he had finally seen you in person, he thinks Rosaria fell short of speaking of your angelic aura. 

“Hello, I have a parcel for Rosaria, could you please deliver it to her? I would have done it myself if I wasn’t in such a hurry.”, you kept the package on my desk, “Thank you very much, Mister . . .”, you looked at his batch that reads Kaeya Alberich, “. . . Thank you so much, Mister Kaeya Alberich.” And before Kaeya could say anything back, you fled out of his sight like a bird.

He watched you get into a cab holding the package in his hand, barely registering what you asked him to do. His mind had drifted far off to all those times when Rosaria was talking about you. He checked his watch and smiled to himself. Oops! Rosaria’s smoke break was ruined since he joined in with the package you had left for her, with many questions.

For a tattoo artist, Kaeya seemed the least bit invested in its antics, yet he had a steady influx of customers, mostly because he is very professional and dedicated to his livelihood. He pays special attention to his regular customers, sadly, you weren’t one of them, not yet.

Still, he would stand and smoke at the corner of the entrance so that he could watch you go like the wind to meet your roommate with a package in hand. He would notice the color of your dress, the matching nails, shoes, and every little detail thinking how flawlessly sexy you looked. 

But he abruptly stopped the second he had bruised his fingers with the cigarette burn. Fortunately, it was his left hand but with his line of work, he needed both. 

Today, during the lunch break when Rosaria told him that y/n wanted to have a tattoo, his blood rushed to his cheeks and ears. He did not think you’d be interested in tattoos or piercings. He definitely did not see the next blow coming. “Yep. sure.”, he supplied, coughing back the lump in his throat. Of all the parlors you could choose you had to choose his. What in the lord’s fuck was going on?

The day came faster, faster than he had anticipated. Needless to say, it did not go like he thought it would. It was safe to say he was more nervous than you were. “Are you sure about this?”, “Ya’know it’s gonna hurt, right?”, “Should I use some anesthetic on the area?” His questions wouldn’t stop and you were trying your best to stay as patient as possible It is true, part of him was nervous but another wanted to spend and enjoy some time with you.

“And done!”, Kaeya playfully mused as he wiped over the work of ink, careful enough not to accidentally graze his fingers over your inner thigh but of course, he did want to.“y/n” he spoke, his tone low but clear enough for you to hear, “so, how many tattoos do you have now?” Kaeya shifted in his chair as he intently watched you normalize your heightened breathing

“Didn’t you keep count?”, 

“nine”, he said, letting out a breathless laugh. “which means you dumped your ninth partner.” and he was not wrong. Of all the regular customers he had, you were his favorite because you had an amusing story to tell whenever you had visited his parlor. He would listen to you the moment he was finished with his handiwork.

But this one in particular, was quite a different story. You never told nor was he allowed to ask about the guy you dumped, ever. Part of him wanted to console you, and tell you that good things take time but another part of him was too afraid to lose you, realizing it was unprofessional of him to offer any form of painkiller against a situation like that. Because on any other occasion, his usual customers weren’t as chatty as you were. 

He never thought of a case where it might be the opposite. With that, he thought that you, of all people, being dumped by someone was utterly ridiculous, because who wouldn't want to date someone like you? He knows he would, after all, and if he could, he would make sure the ninth tattoo is to be the last tattoo on your body.

“What about you?”, you asked, swinging your legs in the air while sitting on the bed. “For a tattoo artist, you are awfully blank.” 

“It’s somewhere. . .”, he started, “wait I’ll rather show you . . .”. and when you, in a sliding second, unexpectedly flashed him, his hands immediately found their way crawling at the hem of his turtle-neck.

“Wait. wait. Wait. stop. Just stop.” kaeya panicked as you partly opened your eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest while your eyebrows jumped and stayed intact for seconds. Pin-drop silence and then both of you simultaneously laughed. Some might think it’s corny, and maybe you did as well but it doesn’t matter, what matters is that you were smiling right now. 

That’s good. That’s really good. 

Kaeya checked his watch as you left his place to run upstairs, checking to see if Rosaria was done with her chores; after all, she was almost approaching the closing hour of her shop so she should’ve been done by the time you had arrived at her place. Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes before you and Rosaria would come out of the elevator to go home;  maybe he could if he’d finally stop thinking about it in such an unhealthy calculative manner.

Yet, well, there was just one problem. His ears felt hot, his mind was restless and he couldn't focus on a single task. Generally, it took ten minutes to close his shop and he does it every day, all alone so if not his mind, his muscle memory should be functioning properly. But all he desired to do was to touch himself and relieve himself from the agony of months boiling in his core.

June, the prime time of summer and ice cream. Kaeya slides his right arm under his vest while grazing his lower belly, eagerly thinking of the last time, but eventually, his arm ends up slipping into his pants, his fingers clamping around his length, and finally, a soft groan escapes from his mouth. The tip of his tongue kisses the corner of his lips as he takes out his cock which was coated with warm white fluid, at the tip pre-cum.

For a moment, he is surprised, and then he suddenly is not. There is a crescent formed along his lips as he taps the tip of his cock, smearing the reddened end with its pre. “Oh fuck. This feels so much better.”, he groans, mumbling to himself, thinking why he didn’t do this way sooner.

He palms his member, a little harder, this time trying to imagine how it would feel to be sheathed by your gummy walls. He started to pump his cock as his pants slipped, now clustered at the bottom of the chair while his legs were trying to give as much space as possible by spreading them further apart.

With half-lidded eyes, he checks if you had locked the door before leaving or not. You did not and the thought of you walking onto him turned him so bad that he thought he might cum right away.

The moment he closes his eyes he could see you, your calloused fingers around his cock and now he is pumping his cock rashly, the hem of his vest being buried in between his teeth, muffled moans escaping his mouth as the squelching noises had gotten louder and louder.

His other hand gradually made its way towards his nipples, pinching and circling around them thinking of your lips instead. “Oh fuck.”, he hisses as his toes curl, his hips bucked up with a force as he thinks of how euphoric it would be to have your soft lips wrapped around his cock, to have your puffy lips on his, to have your boobs tightly pressed against his bare chest, pronounced nipples grazing against each other while Kaeya’s cock is hitting your sweet spot with precision, blessing his ears with the prettiest desperate moans from you.

He squeezes his eyes shut as his hands move up and down his swollen cock, hitting his girth with calculated thrusts. He paces up as he feels his orgasm approaching, huffing and panting, not caring how vocal he has become until the coil at the core of his flat belly snaps, making him dizzy, his hand movements sloppy, and his inner thighs gradually closing, relishing in the high he had just experienced.

Kaeya’s chest rises up and down frantically as he finally opens his eyes, watching the spurs of milky white fluid all over the floor and his study desk. A heavy sigh leaves his body as his breathing normalizes. “Fuck . . .”, he mumbles throwing back his head before closing his eyes and thinking of you, again. He takes a few deep breaths to relax before cleaning the mess.

Yet, when he suddenly heard the footsteps, his heart sank. He regrets touching himself while thinking of you, he regrets not saving himself for you, he regrets chasing love so fast, so insanely that he almost lost his hope for finding the one. 

“Hey Kae-ya, you done?”, you asked, opening the door, “Rosa is gonna be late today. So, I’ll stay and help her. I’m going out to buy some food, you wanna come with me?” You let your exhausted body lean against the door frame while Kaeya remained silent. 

It just made him crazy how blatantly you ignored him, his magnetic affection for you, and the truth was, he cannot even blame you for that. He has always enjoyed this feeling, to like you in secrecy. The more you are unaware of his emotions, the greater chance he has to be around you. Kaeya does not ask for much, just a few more days till he musters up enough courage to finally ask you out.

—

@tokyometronetwork

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #gi smut #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich smut #kaeya x you #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich x you #kaeya alberich #gi x you #gi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact fiction #genshin fanfic #genshin fic #kaeya alberich genshin #kaeyagenshinimpact #rosaria #rosaria x y/n #rosaria x reader #rosaria x you #rosaria x kaeya #genshin impact oneshots #genshin oneshots #smut oneshot #smut #smut fics

[ineffably-human]

Okay, so: the hypnosis!

Nandor's actually the one who wasn't great at it in the past, yes, whatever. I'm fine with those kind of details being all over the place, personally. Even though it's weird.

What's intriguing me more is that this is clearly a runner. We've heard it mentioned two episodes in a row that they're starting to overly rely on hypnosis as a means of dealing with their slip-ups, specifically when they accidentally reveal themselves as vampires. There's the question of it impacting the minds of the humans around them, in the long-term.

Combine that with:

Sean (their biggest link to the normal human world, whose brain is already fucked up from hypnosis) appearing more frequently.

The vampires going out into the world more in all four of the episodes critics have had access to - and more after that, if the episode titles and summaries so far are any indication.

Nandor does a verbal faux pas on a newscast, we have seen clips with all of them on the newscast as newscasters, is this for a mass hypnosis? (The second one after Nandor's at the basketball game, that was a lot of extras for a simple gag!) A mass coverup?

Colin is going to be running for public office, what's less secretive than that?

They're going to a Pride Parade, what's a better way to juxtapose secrecy than that?

Increased emphasis on the documentary crew. Does the neighborhood notice they've had a film crew around them for fiveish years now? What do they think it's for? Who's supposed to see this documentary anyway?

Guillermo still has another episode with his family coming up, the family that were hypnotized into forgetting major things that are still a part of his personal truth, things that would be a huge risk to the vampires if they came to light...

Between Guillermo's personal secrets and this increased emphasis on the vampires out in the world, not to mention the whole thing with Derek as a metaphor for infidelity, I think secrets and lies are the theme this season. The way change/transformation was a theme in season 4, and power and protection were the themes of season 3.

The 'lies' part of things can also involve self-delusion, that's how Nadja's piece can fold into it. Nandor and Guillermo's feelings about each other work there, too. (I think they know Guillermo has a little crush on Nandor, but neither of them realize just how much and maybe don't even believe it's still ongoing.)

And I think this is a great time to bring it up, because this season is about Guillermo maybe becoming a vampire at last - and I think the secrecy is part of what draws Guillermo to being a vampire. It's like a contradiction that's a feature, not a bug. He's spent a long time hiding major facets of who he is to everyone around him, and being a vampire means living openly, freely, while simultaneously being part of a secret species.

Hell, he's the one who gives us the thesis statement at the end of the season's first episode:

"Being a vampire is no different than being a human. We're all just doing what it takes to survive. We go on about our day. Blend in. Act like everyone else. But the truth is, we're all just hiding in plain sight."

I think the vampires are going to get into a situation that hypnosis can't get them out of, maybe something involving the documentary crew and the footage they've collected as well. Something that fully threatens to expose them, impact their safety, with no way of turning back.

Maybe it's something where only Guillermo, as the bridge between human and vampire he's always been, can save them. After all, what is he right now, if not stuck in-between?

#fandom: wwdits #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nandermo #otp: nandermo #i am a meta gremlin

[keenvictory]

"Minor possessive talk, mostly he's just a clingy loser" on the Cove drabble got me so good -- could you maybe do something similar for Derek and Baxter?!

Crazy about your writing, tysm for sharing!!!!

Synopsis: Baxter's life is perfectly, aesthetically crafted. Until it isn't. NSFW drabble.

: ̗̀➛ Featured Characters: Baxter Ward x Gn!Reader

̗̀➛ Content Warnings: NSFW, slight possessive language, very very brief angst (i mean, it is baxter)

̗̀➛  Additional notes: Continuing my loser men agenda with Baxter! I will write a separate post for Derek soon, but finishing two things in a row has me antsy to post this one separately. Theres bottom!Baxter if you squint, but i tried to write him as a switch so take it either direction as you will. Mostly he's just a loser who makes sex way too romantic. I love him.

Baxter wouldn't deign to call himself clingy. He was incredibly independent, really. Your relationship had taken a five year break and survived, he was perfectly content by himself.

But that didn't explain the sick thrill he gets having a clingy partner. There is something so delightfully addicting about being wanted. He loved it when he woke up to you wrapped around him, heart thundering when you burrowed closer at even the slightest twitch of movement, like you were scared he'd disappear.

That was where the thread of guilt came in. Of course you had clingy moments, he'd vanished from your life once, could you really trust him not to do it again? What did his word matter, ultimately?

It was hard not to think like that. He knew his own track record with relationships, and he wanted, more then anything, to not fuck up this one too.

It's never easy to chase those thoughts away. And yet you do it so effortlessly, with just the graze of your teeth, the scrape of your nails.

Baxter is putty in your hands when you mark him up during sex. He's obsessed with the way his pale skin looks after its been ravaged by you, admiring the scratch-marks down his back after he's fucked you, or the hickies and love-bites you've scattered across his chest. He'd let you ruin his neck with sweet bruises if it wasn't shockingly unprofessional.

I mean hickies on the wedding planner, on someone else's big day? He feels a shameful tingle of pleasure he can't deny at the thought. Baxter is so put together during the day that he absolutely falls apart at night, guided by your safe and sure hands. He cries, he begs, he sniffles as big, wet tears fill his red eyes. There was some alarm, the first time he cried during sex. The whole ordeal had been put on hold to make sure he was okay, until he'd shamefully and slowly explained to you that yes, he was perfectly fine. So, so good in fact, the tears had sprouted on an especially breathy moan.

And even though he begs so sweetly to leave your mark sometimes you handle him so tenderly and gently it sparks a whole different kind of need inside him. Love-making, he thinks, with his head nestled between you thighs, moaning with every tug of his hair, is a new world of pleasure. Miles beyond just sex.

But his favorite part of it all is the minutes just after. When he stumbles out of your arms to gleefully assess the damage, take in his tear-stained face, the pink hand prints on his hips and ass, his kissed swollen lips. The sight of it all has his spent cock twitching awake.

Just a little more, he thinks, stumbling back over to you. God his legs ache in just the best way. He's already hard again, cum beading at the tip without a care for his carefully crafted, elegant persona.

He pulls you into another kiss, sweet still, before nipping playfully at your ear.

"You've positively ruined me, dear." He purrs, a shiver of glee running through him as your hands find his hips again. "Want to do it again?"

#baxter ward #olba baxter #our life baxter #baxter x mc #baxter x reader #baxter x you #our life beginnings & always #baxter crying during sex is canon to me im sorry #two posts in a row!! wow!!

[missmonsters2]

—FLASHOVER | SEVEN

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday finds it's pleasant talking to you. There's a rhythmic back and forth, easy to follow along. So, why is it that you've been making bets and comments in your latest conversations that are way too emotionally charged for someone like Wednesday to know what to do with the static and friction.

Warnings: Competitive!Wednesday. Jealous!Wednesday. Competitive!Enid—she's gonna win that trophy again. Thing—should be getting paid honestly. Xavier—only knows losing.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: This is a little longer to make up for the short chapter last time 🤏 let the action begin! I hope you enjoy it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) also yes i did change part 6's graphic nobody say anything shh

Part Six

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Flashover: Noun. The moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was the day before the Poe Cup race, and everyone was finishing the last touches to their boat. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

Enid and Wednesday glanced at each other.

"No."

"Yes."

They say it simultaneously, and you give them an amused smile.

"I mean it's not, not okay," Enid explains to you. "I need to win this trophy a second time in a row, alright?"

Enid finishes polishing the last of the boat, waving the two of you off as Yoko comes in, holding a jumpsuit that makes Wednesday's lip part slightly and sigh. Placing her hand on the small of your back, she begins to push you to walk away.

"Aren't you going to stay and finish helping?" You ask curiously, though not resistant at all to being led away. 

"No," Wednesday drones. "I'm only entering as Enid is down a rower. My conditions were that I'm copilot again this year and that outside of giving my input and checking on the boat, I wouldn't be forced into their team-bonding."

You give her an amused smile, stopping as the two of you stand in the empty hall. Turning to face Wednesday, her eyes are alight with curiosity, even if the rest of her face doesn't show it. 

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, your smile lingering on your lips. 

The ravenette peers back at you, and you feel memorized by how long her lashes are. It takes you to then admire her smooth skin—even if it lacks life. Wednesday's lips are also supp—

"What," Wednesday drives you back to reality. Her eyebrows are furrowed, confused by your intensive study of her face and silence.

You bring the crook of your finger to your mouth, clearing your throat with a cough, trying to suppress the blood rising to your cheeks.

"I was just wondering if you're ever bothered about the fact that we're..." your voice drifts off as you think about the correct way to label the two of you, "involved, and you don't have my number. I have yet to hear even one possible nickname for me from you."

"Why?" Wednesday asks with a raise of her brow. "Are you offering it to me without?"

You smile with a shake of your head. "I'm afraid not," you say but don't look sorry at all. "Rules are rules, Wednesday."

"Rules are made to be broken," Wednesday pushes back. "If I had followed every inane rule since arriving at this penitentiary, everyone would've been none the wiser and perished."

"Hm," you hum, conceding with a nod. "I would argue more that despite your lack of knowing the rules, everyone survived."

Wednesday glares at you, and she's about to demand that you explain, but you cut in before she can say anything.

"I'm enchanted by rule-breakers, Wednesday, but only by those who know the rules well enough to break them," your smile is teasing, but Wednesday can't help but tense her shoulders and stifle her frown. She's about to say something when she spots movement from the side of her eye.

That lanky, stuttering boy. 

"F-Fae!" He started hesitantly but grew more confident when he saw you smile his way.

"Hello, Henry," you politely greet. "How are you today? Are you heading to the practice room?"

He nods eagerly. "I'm good, and yeah. I swear I can do something cool if you can come see it next time," he smiles shyly back but doesn't give you time to accept or decline. "Are you going to the Poe Cup race tomorrow?"

You nod. "Yes, Bianca has asked me to come cheer for her."

Wednesday bristles. 

"Will you be going?" You ask Henry.

He looks regretful as he shakes his head no. "Unfortunately not. My father's birthday is this weekend, and I'm picking out his gift rather last minute. I'll be heading into town mulling over what I could possibly get the perpetually unsatisfied man."

You look on pityingly at him. "I'm sure he'll be happy with what you get."

"Yes," Wednesday cut in. "If not, then get him something he will undoubtedly be miserable with."

Henry looks at Wednesday strangely while you try to hide your chuckle behind your fist. 

"Well, Henry, Wednesday and I better head to class. I'll let you know who wins the race." You wave him goodbye, and he happily returns it back. He looks at Wednesday, waving at her too, but she merely stares at him before turning away to walk with you. 

As they're walking, Wednesday can hear footsteps. There's a nagging feeling in her stomach and a pricking feeling on the back of her neck. She turns her head back to look at the lanky boy but sees him sitting under one of the arches of the hall.

The sight leaves Wednesday confused, but she turns her head back to you. 

"You're cheering for Bianca?" Wednesday asks flatly, leaving out any emotions in her tone that could reveal her feelings.

"Well, she did ask me very early on," you reveal, slowing your walk down as you're in no rush to get to class. 

Wednesday follows your pace, disgruntled by the sudden change in speed and your answer. "You have pledged your allegiance to the wrong side as I will be defeating Bianca for the second time in a row. Switch or you will taste defeat right along with her."

You lick your lips, trying to not laugh. "I don't know. Bianca mentioned she had a very strategic plan. It's possible she may win."

"Over my dead body. Thing is aggrieved with you."

"Thing isn't even here," you point out, laughing. "Alright," you grin. "Why don't we make a little bet?"

"And what exactly will the winner get?"

You look up slightly in thought before looking over to Wednesday. "How about the winner gets to plan the first date?"

Wednesday comes to a dead stop. She looks at you, a little wary. "First date?"

You nod. "I think we're due for our first one." You seem like you're going to say something else but pause for a moment before sighing. "Damn, we really have all of this backward. At this rate, we'll end up doing everything else before you get my number."

Wednesday mildly scrunches her nose, her lip curling at your comment. "Why on earth would I want to plan our...our..." Wednesday can't seem to get the words out. "A date," she forces out instead.

You smirk at her. "Because if I plan it, I might subject you to a night of snood-wearing, hair-braiding, nail-painting, 2000s romcom movies date night."

Wednesday's eyes widen, looking ghastly at the suggestion. Disgust is written all over her face, and it takes everything you have to not burst into laughter. "I thought dates were supposed to be enjoyable for both parties."

"I have to keep you on your toes," you say, trying your best to sound serious. 

They start walking again, and Wednesday's eyes flitter back and forth as she considers your words. "Would you really subject me to that kind of torture?" She doesn't know whether to hate you or be proud.

"No," you admit, unable to continue your charade. "But now you know there is an appeal to being able to choose the activities we do."

The two of you stop in front of the class door, and most people have already arrived. 

"Good luck in the race, Wednesday," you say softly, starting to walk into the classroom. 

Wednesday feels the tension in her ease at your well-wishes and soft tone. 

You look back at her with a brow raised. "And maybe next time, ask me earlier to come cheer for you."

Wednesday clenches her jaw, following after you as she snaps back. "Perhaps don't agree to cheer for the enemy regardless of how early she asks."

It's irritating when you can sense when there is and isn't a bite in her tone because you only turn around, giving her a smile that makes her own lips threaten to match.  

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sun beats down on Wednesday, making her normally cool skin feel clammy under her catsuit. The race was about to begin soon, and Enid was yammering something to her, but she wasn't listening. 

Looking around, Wednesday spots you chatting with Bianca, looking impressed with the sirens' boat. Her lips purses mildly in irritation as she turns back to Enid.

"What's the matter?" Enid asks, but Wednesday doesn't give her an answer, forcing her to search for what could irritate her best friend and roommate. Enid finds it immediately.

"It's totally fine," Enid dismisses, trying to comfort Wednesday. "Once we win, faerie berry will be celebrating with you."

"You already used that one," Wednesday ignores everything else Enid says, "and it's foul."

"To you," Enid says, stinking her tongue out. "I'll have you know it made Fae laugh."

"What's the point of having the nickname if you're going to call her Fae anyway," Wednesday points out. "Admit it. You've run out of ideas."

"O-m-g, just shut up," Enid scrunches her nose at her roommate. "This is what I get for trying to comfort you while your girlfriend cheers for someone else."

"She's not my—" Wednesday feels the heat flare up in her cheeks, even if it doesn't show (thankfully). But Enid cuts her off and starts dragging her towards the canoe.

As they all sit in their positions: Wednesday and Enid in the middle, Yoko at the front, and another girl at the back. The crowd settles and they prepare to hear the signal. 

Ajax isn't participating this year, so there is no one to distract Enid. Or so Wednesday thinks, but Enid turns her head around and smiles at her boyfriend.

"Focus, Enid," Wednesday sighs. 

The gunshot goes off, and everyone begins to paddle rigorously. It's similar to how last year started off. Everyone except Wednesday is unaware of the secret siren lurking under the waters. The first boat is eliminated almost immediately. 

Wednesday finds it suspicious that Kent heads towards her boat despite knowing she has a net prepared. But she's not left with much choice and has Thing activate the first switch. 

Just as last year, the siren is caught in her net. When Thing comes back onto the boat, he describes how the siren slowly sinks to the bottom as he tries to claw his way out. Wednesday hums, her eyes continuing to focus ahead as she paddles.

They reach the halfway point, and when Wednesday looks, she sees you peacefully sitting at the edge of the wooden dock, your feet free of shoes and socks as they languidly dip in the water. 

You send her a small wave and smile at her, which she doesn't return. But then you also look at Bianca, who has also spotted you, and send her two thumbs up at being slightly ahead.

Wednesday rows more forcefully. 

When they reach the Crackstone's crypt, Wednesday runs off to grab their flag as she did last year. She's highly sure that Thing won't be able to distract anyone else from deserting their boat, so Enid and Thing will need to get creative. 

"Hope you don't plan on taking a cat nap this time, Addams," Bianca quips as she catches up to Wednesday. 

"Why not?" Wednesday monotones, not bothering to look over. "I did last year and still managed to beat you."

"That was beginner's luck," Bianca snappishly says before smiling. "Just like fencing."

"We'll see," Wednesday answers with finality before out-running the siren to the crypt. 

Xavier has already grabbed his flag, flashing Wednesday a cocky smile as he passes her. "I'm not losing this year, Wednesday!"

She doesn't pay him any mind as she runs up to grab their own flag. She grasps it, ready to run back, when something catches her eye from the side. Amongst the yellow and green leaves lay a single vivid cobalt teal petal. Leaning down, she goes to pick it up. The second her fingers touch it, her body seizes. 

Controlling her gift has become better over the summer, and she can stop herself from falling over, but she can't contain how it feels like livewire ripping at her skin, unnerving her. 

"Jericho grows these flowers—draeconiums. They're usually harmless and have a short bloom lifecycle."

"They bloomed under an eclipse."

"Poisonous sap—harder than any metal."

"It's the only thing that can cut off a faerie's wings."

Wednesday feels like she's choking. She sees blood coating her hands along with stray black feathers. Darkness slowly clouds her vision until it's all she can see.

"Did you think because I smiled at you that I was kind? That I wasn't capable of hurting you?"

Wednesday's eyes snap open. She looks around and finds herself still standing in front of the crypt, gripping the pole of her flag until her knuckles are white.

"Don't tell me you're winded." Bianca runs up, grabbing her flag and not even sparing Wednesday a glance. "Guess I should work you harder in fencing."

Wednesday doesn't say anything, beginning to run back to the boat. 

The voice was distinctly clear. After all, Wednesday hears it every day and even dreams about it sometimes. She hears it every night she applies the salve to your wrecked wings. The only thing that throws Wednesday off balance is the acid in the tone—in your voice. 

She looks at the creased cobalt teal petal in her other hand.

What was a draeconium petal doing on the island?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The second half of the race becomes tense. 

Kent seems to not have escaped from the net, which Wednesday found odd. He must've been hiding somewhere. 

Suddenly, the Amontillado team starts to sink, and Xavier lets out a big groan, slumping in the back.

"What did you do?" Wednesday asks.

"Thing and I switched it up this time. I distracted them and Thing drilled holes at the bottom of their boat," Enid wickedly grins just as Thing comes out from hiding under, dragging a cordless drill. "I bought that over the summer. It's waterproof!"

"How did you distract them?" Wednesday was curious. 

"My feminine wiles." Enid looks so innocent that Wednesday almost couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. 

Now it was just the Black Cats, and the Gold Bugs left, and it seems Kent decided to make his appearance known then, coming up to push the Black Cat's boat, steering them off course and towards the buoy. 

Thing throws himself into the water, swimming under the canoe towards the siren, who is smirking. Just as Thing is about to punch Kent in his face, another siren pops up from behind, securing Thing into a bag and pulling the string closed tight despite the thrashing.

Wednesday waits a few more seconds, but the answer becomes clear, especially when she sees two tails splash up briefly from the water. 

Thing doesn't swim back up from the water, and their boat is still being pushed off course forcefully. Wednesday turns on the second switch, which activates the harpoon spikes on the side of the boat. This year, they implemented a few more that would be underwater to deter sirens from getting close. 

It seemed while Wednesday expected Bianca to bring more sirens to assist her under the water, Bianca had also anticipated Wednesday knowing and preparing their boat to adjust. 

Therefore, the queen bee siren had prepared something unexpected at the very end. 

Their boat suddenly stops being pushed off course but then something worse happens. In the water, the two sirens work in tandem, swimming in rapid circles, and a whirlpool near the Black Cat's boat forms with speed, beginning to drag their unwilling boat toward disaster. 

"Paddle!" Enid screams, but it's useless. 

Thing was trapped under. 

It wasn't like he would die or anything, but there was no way his fingers would have enough strength to swim away from the forming whirlpool. He would be sucked in, swirling around until he likely hit the bottom of the river, exhausted and unable to swim back up. 

They were just past the halfway point. Wednesday had seen you as she paddled back, looking just as relaxed and languid. Now, you were peering furiously into the water as if trying to find Thing. 

Your head snaps up, locking eyes with Wednesday as she is being pulled into the whirlpool. She isn't too worried as she's an adept swimmer, and the most challenging obstacle would be holding her breath long enough to make it through to the end of the whirlpool and not slam her head at whatever was at the bottom, then have enough air to swim back up. She hopes her teammates are capable of doing the same.

If she didn't drown, she might try to find the opportunity to discover where Thing was trapped.

But then Wednesday watches you stand, loosening the tie around your neck, discarding it on the ground before you roll your skirt's waistband down several times and pull it higher up your body so the length is above your knees. Then, she watches you do a perfect dive into the river. 

The first feeling Wednesday experiences is apprehension because Wednesday doesn't even know if you can swim. Why wasn't that one of the things she asked you? 

But she only knows right now that there's a continuous rapid whirlpool, getting stronger by the minute. If you get sucked into that, and you aren't an adept swimmer, you will certainly, at the very least, drown. 

It would be okay for Thing and sirens, but definitely not creatures that needed air. 

Wednesday throws her oar back into the boat, ready to throw herself into the water, when Enid grabs her wrists and yanks her back down. 

"Enid!" Wednesday snaps, feeling that apprehension grow into something worse when you haven't popped back up for air yet. 

"You can't jump down there, you idiot!" Enid snaps back. "Unless your skin can absorb water and turn it into oxygen or you're hiding gills somewhere, you'll drown! Our best bet is to paddle into the moving downstream of the whirlpool and slingshot ourselves around and out."

"Yes, however—" Wednesday starts to argue but is cut short when the rapid current of the whirlpool and the pull of their boat suddenly begin to slow down. 

The look of confusion passes through everyone's face, especially Bianca's, as she paddles past Wednesday.

Eventually, the water is still again, and the heads of the sirens responsible for the whirlpool pop out of the water.

"Fuck!" Kent shouts with his hands to his eyes, rubbing them. "I can't see anything!"

The other one near their boat pops up, looking frantic. 

"Why is it suddenly dark?" She sputters, holding out her hand as she wades through the water, trying to find something. Her hand slaps against the Black Cat's boat, and she looks alarmed. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Are you blind?" Enid waves her hand in front of the girl's face, but there's no reaction. She even jumped at Enid's voice, not realizing how close she was. "It's very much still daylight out."

Wednesday looks into the girl's eyes but finds something amiss. 

The girl is still sputtering, asking for help, but Enid is more ruthless than Wednesday thought, especially since it seems like the siren's vision is slowly returning.

"Peace and love to you but goodbye!" Enid shouts as she directs everyone to start paddling. 

Wednesday paddles but looks to the side, where she sees an arm shoot up and grab the edge of the wooden dock. Another arm shoots out, and you're hoisting yourself up onto it. Thing is on your shoulder, and relief floods Wednesday's body. 

Wednesday locks eyes with you, catching you wringing the bottom of your dress shirt and skirt. You smile at her before mimicking the gesture of her paddling, telling her she should paddle faster. 

Turning back to the course, Wednesday puts her back into paddling. It seems that this year, Bianca learned her lesson, building her boat with deadly weapons, and prepared for the worst-case scenario of Wednesday somehow catching up.

Just as Wednesday paddles up next to the Gold Bug's boat with the spikes out, Bianca activates the harpoons from her boat, forcing them to keep their distance. The sirens have planted spikes around their entire boat to prevent the Black Cats from trying to get them on another side. With her team being stronger paddlers, Bianca gives Wednesday a victorious smirk as she paddles away.

But—Wednesday had banked on the fact that Bianca would grow smarter. She activates the third switch on the boat. A lid opens up at the bow of their canoe, and a small harpoon cannon rises. 

"Don't miss," Wednesday threatens Yoko, who waves her off dismissively with a hand and grabs onto the handles. 

"What?" Yoko smirks. "Do you think my eyes being in the dark with the sunglasses on would impede my perfect vision? I only bumped into a wall 6 times this week."

Wednesday doesn't comment back, mostly because Enid already seems too high-strung at this moment that she's confident the werewolf would kill her vampire best friend if the girl missed the shot. 

Yoko spends only a few moments aiming before shooting, the harpoon shooting out with force, piercing right into the opening hole of one of the spikes on the Gold Bug's boat. 

"See!" Yoko grins. "All that worry for nothing." Yoko presses a button to reel the harpoon, and as it yanks back, it rips a hole into the Gold Bug's boat.

Water quickly fills Bianca and her team's boat, and they're left bitterly watching the Black Cats row by them a second year in a row. 

The cheers are deafening as they return to the dock, with everyone jumping and screaming.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Enid screams, hugging Wednesday as the girl grunts with displeasure but allows it. "This better be the only highlight of my year!"

Wednesday finds it amusing before she turns and scans the crowd. She sees you in the far back, trying to not draw any attention to yourself. Your hair is still damp, but your clothes look relatively dry as you've been standing in the sun. Thing isn't anywhere to be seen, assumedly going back to the dorm room to rest. 

You're not cheering or clapping, but you're beaming, seemingly pleased at Wednesday's victory. 

"You're getting really good at this school spirit thing. I know you have no beef with Bianca this year, but you have to admit that it feels good to beat her again," Enid conspiringly whispers. 

Wednesday turns her head to look at Bianca, who is climbing out of the water, looking vexed. "Defeating someone always feels good," Wednesday smirks. "But it feels better when there's a reason to."

That's what her fencing rival gets for asking you to come and cheer for her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday knocks on the door of your room carefully. She's never been to your room before, but she does like how isolated it seems. The room is further down the hall, away from others.

"Come in." Wednesday hears the muffled voice on the other side of the door. 

Turning the knob, Wednesday enters to find you standing at your full-length mirror, drying your hair. You're in casual clothing, a sight that Wednesday is used to. Wednesday, herself, was wearing a striped black and white long-sleeved shirt and a black sweater over that. 

"Hey," you look at her through the mirror, smiling as you lock eyes with her. "Not going to celebrate with your teammates?"

"I told Enid I'd think about it," Wednesday says, recalling the same words she told the blonde last year. Of course, she had been thinking about it if you were there, but Thing brought her a note from you saying to come meet you after she was done celebrating.

Therefore, Wednesday opted to skip if you weren't going. 

You chuckle, not commenting on it. "Do you want some tea?"

Wednesday nods, looking down at the fuzzy black rug and a small round coffee table a few feet away. She strides her way around before sitting on the floor at the coffee table.

There are two mugs and a cordless electric kettle in the middle of your coffee table that you open up before grabbing a water bottle to pour its contents in. You shut the lid before turning it on, and the sound of water heating fills up the room.

Wednesday takes a moment to look around the room, noting how similarly plain it was like hers (her side, at least). The room was much smaller than Wednesday's, but it was obvious it was your room alone. 

You had little personal items, mostly photos you'd taken with your friends. Instead of a twin bed like everyone else, you had a queen-size tucked in the corner. Beside it, against the wall and in front of a window, was a long desk, enough for two people to work on it if they squished. But it was barren besides a laptop and a photo of you and Bianca and you with Enid and Yoko. 

At the end of your desk stood the full-length mirror. There was a reach-in closet on the opposite side of the room, filled with your clothes that hung neatly. A lot of them looked new and unworn. 

There was little walking room, but Wednesday found it comfortable. 

"You don't have a roommate?" Wednesday asks, even though the answer is obvious.

"No," you shake your head. "It'd be impossible to hide my wings with a roommate and I need to let them out every night or they'd be very, very sore. Not to mention how miserable I'd be keeping them for that long."

"It must be nice," commented Wednesday.

You shrug. "I'm used to it, I suppose. But sometimes I'm envious of the whole…" you wave your hand in a vague motion, "roommates thing. It seems nice."

Wednesday snorts derisively. "You say that without knowing Enid's habit for snoring and singing horrid pop music. It's hard to get work done sometimes."

You finish drying your hair, letting the rest of it air dry. You hang the towel on the mirror's edge before sitting down next to Wednesday, your shoulder bumping hers. "Well, you're welcome anytime here, even if I'm not around if you want some peace and quiet," you offer. "Usually if I’m here, I'm not doing anything much except on my laptop and with earphones in."

Wednesday fidgets with her fingers at your tempting offer. "I see you've fallen into the downfall of our age—technology."

You laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. It's such a melodic sound that Wednesday can't help but think of her vision earlier and the acid in your tone. 

Was it even possible?

The water finally finishes heating up, and you place the tea bags into the two cups before pouring hot water into them, sliding one mug in front of Wednesday, who nods in thanks.

"I will admit that I've fallen into binging Netflix shows or documentaries, and the occasional snooping of Enid's blog, but I can't say it's an addiction of mine," you reveal. "Fae realms aren't as modern as the outside world. We have things like electricity, heating, and plumbing but technology isn't as prevalent. It's more used for research than it is for entertainment."

"I see," Wednesday tilts her head at the information. She wishes her mother would hurry up with that goddamn diary. 

"I believe a lot of the younger generation is fighting for change but a lot of high lords are against it," you sigh.

Wednesday doesn't know what to say. She's not knowledgeable enough about fae realms to comment on it. But you change the subject before she can even attempt to think of an answer.

You turn to her, a crooked smile on your lips. "Congratulations on today," you say softly. "You were very impressive."

Wednesday shrugs off your laudatory. "Victory was only possible because of you," she acknowledges. She turns to you, narrowing her eyes. "You did something to those sirens. It caused them to be temporarily blind."

You nod. 

"Is that your power?"

You vaguely nod again, swaying back and forth as if that's only part of the answer.

"One of them, yes." You finally say. "It's a mild form of psychic powers. I'm not actually physically impairing their eyes, but rather clouding their mind, cutting off certain brain signals so that they think it's pitch black."

"I'm not really good at it," you hurry to say after, as if worried. "I don't have a lot of practice, and it can only last a few minutes at best."

"That is impressive," Wednesday genuinely compliments. 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks and rub the back of your neck shyly. "Thanks," you mumble.

Wednesday senses your discomfort and decides to not push you about your powers for tonight. 

"I thought you were rooting for Bianca," Wednesday says quietly. "We had a bet, did we not?"

You tilt your head at Wednesday, almost as if you're confused by her words. And then you're leaning closer to her. 

Wednesday is impossibly still. The air suddenly feels electrically charged, sparks forming as the silence drags on. It was infuriating and intoxicating how you could turn the mood so fast.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, silkily, making the ravenette twitch. "Are you a competitive person?"

"Most definitely." Wednesday answers without hesitation and in a tone that almost seems proud. "I can be obsessive, single-minded, and I don't often lose."

"I'm not a competitive person at all," you admit to her, leaning closer. "I make bets all the time without a care if I win or lose them."

You had taken a sip of your tea earlier, and Wednesday could feel the heat of it on your breath. She could practically feel the heat radiating off your lips. 

"That's ridiculous," Wednesday tries to keep the steel in her voice, but she feels something in the back of her throat wavering.

"Is it?" You retort back quietly. "If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

The words take a moment for Wednesday to process. Her eyes focus, recalling the bet, and she feels her stomach knot. 

"I don't care who plans the date," you say the words out loud, forcing Wednesday to publicly acknowledge it. "Because in the end, we'll be having a date."

You smile, and it causes your lips to brush against Wednesday, and her eyes flutter close.

"Although, I do admit it will be fun to watch you attempt to plan a date that will entertain us both," you tease. 

Wednesday's eyes snap back open, glaring at you. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she raises her brow at you. "If I can't be sure to plan the best date, I may settle to plan the worst one."

"Worst?" You try to not laugh.

"It would end in tears…on your end. Uncomfortable displeasure on mine."

"And the best?"

Wednesday is silent.

You let the silence linger between the two of you, basking in the proximity of Wednesday Addams. 

"Want to make another bet?" Your eyes flitter up to look into Wednesday's gaze.

"Exactly what kind?" Wednesday asks. Given your revelation, she knows she should say no, but curiosity has always been Wednesday's killer.

Wednesday watches you observe her, studying every meticulous feature of her face as if searching for something. Wednesday is stiff, but she's leaning closer even if she doesn't realize it.

"If you stay completely still for the next five minutes, I'll refrain and wait to kiss you on our first date," you say, moving somehow closer to Wednesday's face, tilting her face more against hers. Your lips brush but never fully touch. "If you move, you have to kiss me right now."

Everyone knows that Wednesday can stay still long enough to make people believe she's dead. You must've known that, especially having listened to people telling you about last year's events. 

So, Wednesday thinks about what this bet is about. 

"If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

And regardless of the results of the bet, you'd get a kiss.

Wednesday swallows, feeling something strange happen to her by just your words. 

It's the kind of revelation that feels emotionally charged. It's a build-up of all the time she has spent with you and pathetically pined after you. 

Wednesday is a very competitive person. She detests losing. It brings pity, rage, and self-disgust.

Yet, because it's you, there's an underlying spark of trust in defeat. 

Wednesday Addams didn't mind losing to you.

Licking her lips, Wednesday moves her hand, grabbing the edge of your shirt at your stomach to anchor herself. She tugs, pulling you closer, and presses her lips against yours.

PART 8

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams fanfiction #wednesdayedit #wednesday addams x you #mm: my fics

[demonic0angel]

The first chapter of Ghost Games is out!

Tags (I couldn't tag some of you T-T): @kiracandephoenix, @emergentpanda-blog, @hilariousseagoat, @starlightcat04, @krzys2000, @samaraistop, @cat-in-a-fedora, @tkiesai, @lordfirecat2004, @kitkat-4772, @mad-hatter5709, @tired-0f-1ife, @fuyuthefoxwriter, @hellodimond, @cosmicentity27

————

He opened his eyes to green. Startling, he sat up straight in his seat.

He looked down at himself, turning his limbs this way and that. He was wearing a black and white tracksuit and he was sitting alone on a row next to the window. Outside was complete and utter darkness. Instinctively, he knew that he should be careful and so he cautiously turned his head to look around.

He was sitting in a bus, one that was filled with creatures and monsters and people. Most of the seats were filled, but it wasn't too packed. Behind him, there were two normal-looking people. He didn't know what was exactly normal, but his subconscious seemed to know.

One of them was a boy with a green mask, wearing an outfit that was red, yellow, green, and black. His hair was black and he was charming, looking barely 14 years old. The person sitting next to him was a pretty teenage girl with long red hair, a turquoise headband with pants the same color and a black turtleneck.

She was awake and she was also staring at him with blue green eyes.

"Hello," she said cautiously.

He couldn't help but smile. "Hello. What's your name?"

She stared at him unabashedly, her expression was surprisingly gentle. "I don't know. You?"

"Same." She was familiar to him in a good way. He knew instinctually, that she was annoying and occasionally a nuisance but also the one person he could trust without hesitation. It was a strange feeling, like he loved her but he didn't know why.

"Do you know why we're here?" She asked and he shook his head. She sighed, closing her eyes to lean back against her seat. Then she opened her eyes again and said, "I can't remember anything. This... this situation isn't normal at all."

He shrugged again. A few moments later, the boy sitting next to the girl stirred and woke up. His eyes were covered with his mask, but he could tell that the boy was looking around at everything with a sharp gaze.

"Hello." He took the lead in introducing himself as he noticed the girl's shyness.

The boy paused, staring at him with wide white eyes. "... hello. My name is Robin."

Surprise filled him. "Robin? You know your name?"

"... I suppose so. You don't?"

"No," the girl shook her head. "The two of us don't remember anything. Do you know what's going on?"

The boy shook his head and he looked honest as he said, "No, I don't know anything. All I remember is that I was called Robin."

He couldn't help but grin. "Mind if we borrow the theme?"

Robin blinked and shook his head.

Before he could say anything, the girl brought out her hand for a handshake. "Then call me Nightingale."

He blinked and swallowed back the word on his tongue. "Call me Sparrow."

Robin smiled.

Before they could ask each other more questions for information, the speakers overhead crackled and the bus began to slow. The driver got off of his seat and turned around to gave the passengers.

Nightingale gasped when she saw him.

Half of his face had melted into a fleshy pulp while the other half had completely rotted off to show off a shiny skull. He was wearing a neat green uniform as he spoke, his voice echoing eerily, "Welcome, passengers, to the Night Bus. All you need to know is that you will be connected to a system which will tell you everything you need. Complete the scenario and survive. If you accomplish this...." His messed up face pulled and twisted into something like a mockery of a smile. "Maybe good things will come your way."

In that moment, a screen popped up in Sparrow's vision.

It was light green and semi-translucent, like a video game pop up.

It read:

[Welcome! Thank you for choosing to participate in the Nightmare Games! To earn a wish, complete scenarios! Earn cards to help you, unlock different paths and endings, and make parties! The system will be here to provide information for scenarios and keep track of you and your things. Good luck!]

"Party?" Sparrow said aloud in surprise and Robin, from behind him, voiced his confusion.

Sparrow felt a bit silly for knowing what it meant while Nightingale and Robin looked distinctly confused. "It's like... when you make friends in a game, you can make a party together." He turned back around to investigate his system notification, but it only seemed to be there as a message and nothing else.

Nightingale tapped on his shoulders and when he turned to her, she was looking at him with bright eyes. "How do we do that?"

Sparrow smiled awkwardly. "No clue."

She sighed then, dejected, but didn't say anything as their systems rang with more notifications.

[The next scenario will now begin. Uploading information...

East High School

Objective: Survive for a week within the school while uncovering the urban legend.

You will be given the role of a 'student'.

As a newcomer, here is a hint: At 12-3 AM is when it is most dangerous.]

The bus stopped and the passengers growled and hissed at each other, trying to leave. Robin went ahead and Sparrow quickly followed, not wanting to be left behind. Nightingale hesitated only for a moment before following.

Sparrow asked them if they got the same hint and they all nodded. Looking around at everyone else, the three of them were conspicuous. Nightingale was taller than them both, but even she couldn't offset the fact that they were the only children in the group. A creature with a wolf for a head sneered at them.

"I wonder how the three of you got here," he said it like he was deliberately provoking them.

Robin and Sparrow bristled, but only Robin quickly calmed.

Sparrow raised an eyebrow and snarked, "I could say the same to you, furball."

He had a faint feeling of deja vu like he should've been speaking another language to this wolf person, but he quickly brushed it off. His memories were all gone, so these feelings were only irritating to him.

The wolf guy growled at him, and a person with blue skin quickly pulled him back. "Don't argue with a kid." With that, they walked away.

Sparrow was furious at the thought of being underestimated, especially so because their tone was blatantly mocking. He was almost about to run after them and start yelling when Nightingale curled her hands around his shoulders and said, "Don't make a fuss."

Sparrow, despite feeling like she was irritating, obediently listened to her. Robin patted him on the back in comfort.

The passengers all left the bus in an disorganized manner. Around them were several more buses, filled with creatures and humans and other things. They were all likely players as well.

Sparrow tried his best to count them and only reached 30 before he gave up. The school in front of them was large, enormously so, and it say on top of a large barren hill. There were concrete sidewalks all around, but the high school looked oddly alone and creepy. The sky was a dark gray, covered with heavy clouds and the wind blew against them, stinging with its chill.

There was a sharply dressed woman who was waiting for them in front of the school.

"Students!" She said sharply. "You're late!" She beckoned them with a clawed finger. "Come, follow me."

They all did so. As they trekked up the hill, one of the bus passengers approached the woman with a flattering smile.

"Hello, Miss. Could I ask—"

"You will call me Madam." She interrupted curtly. Looking closer at her, she had deep bags underneath her eyes and sunken in features. "I am the principal of East High School. As students, you will respect authority." Then she went on to ramble about the rules of the school. Both Robin and Nightingale looked like they were listening properly to her long winded spiel, so Sparrow let his mind wander as he silently observed the other bus passengers.

Was this some sort of game? The system seemed to imply that it was, but Sparrow felt like he couldn't be too careful. The feeling of knowing but not knowing made his emotions a storm. The paranoia and danger he felt in an unknown situation twisted with trust in himself and strangely enough, his two companions. The familiarity as well as the strangeness of the situation created a confusing concoction.

They all continued to follow the principal as she led them around the school. It looked as though it used to be this beautiful and amazing institution but now it looked desolate and strange. They hardly saw any teachers or students as they walked around.

The school itself was an oddly built place. The facilities were out of reach for many of the students. For example, the football field was a drivable distance away, and the fine arts building was built across the parking lot. But who was Sparrow to judge?

He didn't even have memories.

The tour ended at the dormitories, which was located right next to the cafeteria but was only attached to half of the classrooms. The other half was still some distance away. The entire thing was very inconvenient.

"What a weirdly built school," Robin said aloud.

"You think so too?" Sparrow asked, as Robin nodded.

The principal beckoned to the bus passengers and said, "Ladies, over here!"

Nightingale looked at them for a moment before she stepped forward with a few more people. The assortment of females left with the principal, leaving the males behind in a cluster. Sparrow noticed the people around them looking at him and Robin with sharp eyes, as if they were about to bite into them the moment they lowered their guard.

"Uhm," Sparrow started, pinching Robin's sleeve to get his attention. Robin glanced at him through the white lenses of his mask. "Do you wanna room together?"

Robin smiled. "Sure. Let's go pick out a room."

They quickly left and found a small room to themselves before locking the door and then picking a bed. The room they were inside was very small, with two beds on either side of the wall and a window in the middle. Two desks and cabinets were placed on opposite sides of the room and two doors, one for a small closet and a bathroom attached.

Sparrow collapsed on top of his bed, but Robin didn't touch his yet. Instead, he was looking around the room and inspecting everything.

"What are you looking for?" Sparrow asked.

"Clues," Robin answered as he rifled through the empty cabinets next to the beds. "We have to find out what the urban legend is to get out, remember?"

Sparrow got off the bed and nodded, swiftly picking up his mattress to look underneath it. Together, the two of them scoured the entire room but didn't find anything. Sparrow scratched his head and said, "Maybe the urban legend isn't about the dorms? Should we look at the library?"

Robin nodded. "Good idea, Sparrow. But... it's becoming dark out and the curfew is 7." They both turned to the single window outside that barely showed the darkening horizon and then at the clock on the wall, which had two hands that were nearing 7 o'clock.

Sparrow clicked his tongue and then said, "Why don't we just sneak out?"

Robin eyed him. "You weren't listening at all to the principal, were you?"

Sparrow avoided his sharp gaze. "... no."

Robin sighed but didn't sound angry. "We can't act rashly. Her words seemed to imply that as long as we don't get caught, we'll be fine but..." Robin hesitated. "I... I don't know what could happen. I don't have any memories and this is something I have never experienced before. I think. So it's better to just listen for now and find out the limits of what we can do in the morning."

It seemed as though the lack of memories made him more unsure of everything, but Sparrow could tell that he was experienced. His demeanor and attitude was calm and professional. Compared to Sparrow's go-with-the-flow plan of everything, Robin seemed more put together and mature than him.

But because of that, Sparrow also hesitated. "... okay. Then let's spend a night here and see what happens tomorrow? Maybe we can talk to Nightingale or something? Since she's in the girls' dorm?"

Robin nodded again. "Let's do that." They found uniforms in the closets and toothbrushes in the bathroom that was attached to their room.

Sparrow stared at his reflection within the bathroom. His face was young, and his eyebrows were black, contrasting with his silvery white hair. His eyes glowed green and he looked a little inhuman. Soft freckles lit up like stars when he tilted his face.

He was like some strange star given human form.

He didn't hate it, but he definitely knew that he wasn't normal. When he opened his mouth, he even had fangs.

"Are you done?" Robin called from behind the bathroom door and Sparrow hurriedly went to brush his teeth.

The two of them prepared for bed in relative silence and went to bed. Sparrow found it odd and funny that Robin still wore his mask to sleep but he didn't mention it as they both laid there.

As Sparrow laid on his bed in the darkness, everything was much too quiet and the reality of his situation hadn't quite set in yet. He still felt dazed and confused. He was also filled with the urge to find someone to hug and get comfort from.

"Robin?" He asked.

There was a soft hum of acknowledgment from the other bed.

"..." he didn't know what to say. He just felt anxious, like he needed to say something.

Robin then made a shushing noise. "Just sleep. I'll protect you if anything happens, okay?"

Sparrow's heart felt a little sore. They didn't even know each other.

"Me too." Sparrow said. Then softer, he said, "Thanks."

"Of course. I'm Robin after all."

That seemed to have mean something, but Sparrow didn't know what. What did robins have to do with anything?

Still, as if his name held some sort of magic when said aloud, Sparrow's eyes began to drift close. Finally, he fell asleep into a deep sleep.

At least, that was until he woke up with the sound of a shrill, mournful wail of a man.

Both he and Robin snapped their eyes open and sat up. They took one look at each other through the darkness before they scrambled out of bed.

Just what was going on?

||||||||||||||||||||||||||

*looks at my other fics and chuckles awkwardly* I make no promises to finish this. If there are any questions, feel free to ask!

This fic is inspired by this AU.

Thank you to my beta @meditating-cat! I seriously appreciate it!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #jazz fenton #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #jason todd #ghost game au #dp fanfic

[pushing500]

Starting today off by introducing our 21st colonist, Henry!! Woo! How exciting- and annoying. My colonist bar had to break into two rows on top of each other to handle so many pawns! it won't be a problem for long, don't worry

Henry is a little boy who is of the 'Hussar' xenotype, which just means he's a genetically engineered super-soldier who will apparently develop a dependency on Go-Juice later in life. Hooray for him. He has a wooden foot and lil' bandaids on his face, which makes me think this kid has seen some fights way too grown-up for him. Fortunately, the colonists at Eureka don't believe in sending children into combat, so Henry is free to spend his days learning and having fun.

The first thing Henry did (after putting on a new shirt) was go hang out with Irwin in the school building to learn about melee. For what it's worth, Henry is already the third-best melee fighter in the colony, at the same level as Kawoo, and only beaten by Irwin at level 14 and Connie at level 11.

I think he is going to get along swimmingly with Irwin.

Then we had a drop-pod raid, which I did not think was going to be a problem because there didn't seem to be that many Saurid raiders... But, alas...

I guess someone named "Executioner" would ruin my day, huh?

The problem with drawing the adventures of these colonists is that I get way too attached to them. So, uh... I wrote eulogies. Sorry. They're under here if you feel like reading 'em.

Wendy Marsengill

Wendy Marsengill was killed on the 13th of Decembary, at the age of 27. She is survived by her wife of 1.5 years, Tamarind, by a vast and eccentric family, including her Aunt Kawoo and cousin Andy, and by many friends in the settlement of Eureka and beyond.

Wendy had a fascinating start to her life when she was recruited as a Child Spy. She went on to become a Barber in her adulthood, though, at some point, she ended up on a distant Rimworld and was lost to madness as a Wild Woman. She wandered in this state for some time before joining the Animist Alliance, where she met and eventually married her wife Tamarind.

Wendy was the best cook in the settlement and often was single-handedly responsible for keeping the colony fed with properly cooked food, and nobody ever got food poisoning while Wendy was manning the kitchen.

Some of Wendy's greatest moments include wearing a jester's hat to her own wedding and somehow managing to cement herself as the most Australian colonist in my head based on a single social interaction way-back-when.

Pearl the Cheetah

Pearl was the first animal to join the ranks of Eureka's ever-growing menagerie, not including Rogan the rottweiler who crash-landed with Albina, Brennan, and Irwin.

Pearl landed near our burgeoning settlement in an animal drop-pod, where she was rescued and nursed back to health by Head Researcher Brennan. Pearl decided to stay with us and spent a very long time sleeping on an animal sleeping spot on the rough marble floor of Irwin's ascetic bedroom (sorry, Pearl. You deserved better).

Once Andrei McCarthy joined the colony, it was love at first sight, and he bonded with Pearl almost immediately. She was eventually given a proper animal bed in the room Andrei shared with his wife, Kawoo and their infant son Andy, before Andy moved to his own room.

Pearl was brave, beautiful and very fast, as cheetahs often are. It is a tragedy that I can't draw animals as well as I would like to, or she would have featured far more prominently in all these posts. I'll miss her. She made silly noises when I zoomed in on her sometimes. It's going to be quiet without her.

First | Next | Previous

#rimworld #gracie plays #The Animist Alliance #art #my art #traditional art #rimworld art #unpolished art #tw death mention #tw death #I am very glad to have new colonist Henry #but it does feel a bit like I had to trade one colonist for another #screw you Randy #I'm still (barely) coping with an actual real-life death of a close friend right now haha... #So perhaps I'm taking these Rimworld deaths a little harder than usual #Oh well I'm glad Wendy and Pearl could be around for as long as they were #I am going to miss them a lot #I hope Tamarind and Andrei will be okay :( #I didn't want to draw the actual dying bit #So you just get cute pictures of Wendy and Pearl instead #I'm going to build them the most exquisite tomb... #Near the river I think with the pretty pink almond trees #They'll rest easy there #Anyway #Here's to a cozy day everyone #I hope you're not as sad about this as I am #Or maybe I hope you are as sad as me? I don't know #have a good day nonetheless. I love you all.

[futuristicsaladparadise]

My top 10 girlies. If I had to get rid of all but these (and I might), these are the ones I couldn't bear to part with.

Shamsa Kabil Nasr Mansour (back left), aka This Poor Girl, broke my heart a little when I first saw the treatment she had received from previous owners. I just want to hug her and tell her everything will be all right, even though she may have to go to the hospital in the future. Her eyes are still messed up and will never sit right, so she wears glasses. She was so damaged, I decided her backstory would include surviving a military attack on her home. She currently lives with her aunt, uncle, and big sister in the US, where she is learning to read and speak English.

Ivy Ling (front left) is practically perfect, and fits in nearly every modern decade. I love her unique eyes.

I wanted a Ruthie (Ruth Ann Smithens, back row) doll for some time, but not AG's Ruthie, because she didn't look like the books. Everything magically fell together (seriously, I wasn't even looking for a face and ran across the head on eBay, and they eyes and wig were the first things to fall out when I opened their respective containers) and Ruthie was born. I think she looks a bit like Liesel Matthews from the 1990s version of A Little Princess, too.

LaRae Bliss Turner (front) was an accidental find. I had been lowkey looking for an Addy mold doll for about a year, and knew I wanted different eyebrows. I kept coming back to the listing, even saving a screenshot and finally decided that she was the right doll for me. I'm still working on her backstory.

Blaire Wilson (middle back): I thought I didn't like Blaire. Blaire was blah. She had hobbies I wasn't interested in, I don't like her name, and the previous dolls I had seen had those weird downcast eyes. Then I was looking for a secondhand version of Rebecca's Hanukkah outfit and found a listing of this girl dressed in the full outfit. The price wasn't bad, and I thought I could always donate the doll if I didn't like her. Well, she's grown on me and now I can't make myself give her up.

Annika Jessalyn Nazarbayev (middle front): Annika was one of my very first dolls, and is the doll I've had the longest. Since she was originally Jess, I tied her story into that. She's Jess's niece (her mom, Heather, is Jess's older sister), and her middle name is a nod to Annika's past and her character relationship to her aunt.

Nellie Brigid O'Malley (back): I gave my Nellie a middle name to distinguish her from AG's version. She's another book-based character doll, and might just be my favorite. Don't tell the others.

Tabitha Danielle Crow (front): I never intended on keeping Tabby. I bought her as a damaged Rebecca to fix up and donate, but now I don't want to let her go. Her last name actually belongs to a friend of mine; the two of them look like they're related.

Dubheasa Ni Mhaoileidigh, aka Dovie, (back right): Dovie is also an ex-Rebecca and since, logically, I do not need 2 Rebecca-based dolls (nor 4 Josefina molds, nor 2 Josefina mold redheads with green eyes), I shouldn't keep her. Emotion trumps logic though, and I keep bringing her out. She has a sweet, timeless look that I wish AG played more into.

Last, but not least, Apolline Renee Kincaid: I bought her as a semi-dupe for Cecile who was retired well before I started collecting. I also have a penchant for creating my own characters and wanted a 1920s girl (I came up with the character about a year before the first mentions of Claudie), so she lives near New Orleans during the end of the Harlem Renaissance movement there. I love that she has the older Sonali face mold. Apparently I prefer the older dolls, as I didn't choose to keep any of the ones I had bought that were recently released.

Face mold totals: 4 Josefina, 2 Sonali, 2 Jess, 1 Marie-Grace, 1 Addy

Who would you have in your collection of 10 or fewer dolls?

#american girl dolls #american girl #my dolls #agig #ag #dolls of color

[not-neverland06]

Broken Machinery

Pt. 6 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: I’ve just got this weakness for one love interest calling the other baby while they’re injured. I can't help myself 

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), shots fired, asshole government agents, me not knowing what android parts are called (everything’s getting called a bio component idc), nothing too bad honestly just one near death experience and existential crisis

Word Count: 3.3K

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

“You know, you really scared me up there.”

“How do you think I felt?” 

You might have gone a little crazy, back there, you nearly broke a few toes beating the shit out of Connor.

It was like you were so blinded by your rage you just went into a trance. There was thirium eveywhere, Hank and Chris both had to grab you to get you off him. One of the deputies had to take him to CyberLife for repairs. 

Serves him right. 

Hank had immediately driven you to the hospital afterwards. Despite your incoherent garbling that you were ‘in tip-top shape.’

He was sitting in your room with you and for the last forty minutes since the doctor left, he had been staring into the coffee he got at the vending machine. Not talking, not looking at you, you had almost begun to believe he had passed out. 

He was still staring at his coffee as he spoke. “I’m not talking about the roof. I knew I’d catch you.” There was an absolute certainty to his words, like there was no other possible outcome he would have accepted except your survival. 

You wanted to be happy, wanted to feel like you had a dad that loved you and would risk falling off a roof with you, rather than let you go. 

But you knew that he saved you out of a feeling of duty. He saved you because he couldn’t lose two kids. Not for any other reason. Sometimes you felt like he was more of an android than Connor. 

“Back there, what you did to Connor,” your shoulders stiffened in defense. You didn’t need to hear that you look like a rabid badger when you’d gone after him. You already knew that you went a little insane. Hank raised his hands in defense before you could go on another rant. “Hey, I’m not saying the fucker didn’t deserve it, I’m just saying I was…. I was scared, okay?”  

He finally looked at you now, and you almost wished he hadn’t. For years all you’ve seen was a vacant look or drunken rage. 

Now, there was something there. Something real, and it hurt. It physically hurt to see the pain in his eyes. The raw grief and loss. 

He seemed to lose track of what he was saying, caught up in one rare moment of actually allowing himself to feel instead of masking it with rage or drinking it away. “I feel like I lost you both.”

You didn’t know what to say. There were no words of comfort you could offer him. No white lies he would accept. 

And there were none you were willing to give, because he was right. 

He had lost you both in that car crash. 

Amanda was waiting for Connor in a boat. It was clear he was expected to row her, his resistance at the unspoken order was surprising. 

“I love this place, it’s all so calm and peaceful. Far from the noise of the world. Tell me, what have you discovered?”

Connor felt the need to keep the development in his relationship with you to himself. Amanda wouldn’t understand why he was living with you. She surely wouldn’t approve of his newly prioritized mission. 

PROTECT Y/N

“I found two deviants at the Eden Club, I had hoped to learn something but…” There had to be a way to phrase this that she wouldn’t know the truth behind his actions. “They managed to escape.”

“That’s too bad,” she saw right through him. “You seemed so close to stopping them.” Connor chose to row rather than speak. “You seem… lost Connor. Lost and perturbed.”

Connor debated being sincere with her. If anyone had advice or could tell him what to do about what he’s been going through, it would be Amanda. 

“I thought I knew what I had to do, but now I realize it’s not that simple.”

“You had your gun trained on those deviants at the Eden Club.” There was a forced replay of the footage at the club. It felt so invasive that they could reach through him and rip out what they wanted. 

“Why didn’t you shoot?” 

He chose to tell the truth, “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

He knew he made the wrong choice immediately after. At least he hasn’t told her about you.

But, his doubt was concerning. His main concern should be the mission, now, he’s not so sure. 

“If your investigation doesn’t make progress soon, I may have to replace you, Connor.”

He wasn’t sure how to feel about the idea of being replaced. If it was for the sake of the mission then he should be willing to do anything. Yet, the idea of being deactivated made him feel… wrong, almost angry. 

“I understand.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“Something’s happening, something serious. Hurry, Connor. Time is running out.” The ominous warning left Connor with a feeling of pressure on his chest. 

Hank kept tapping his foot and staring at Connor as he flipped his coin. You smiled at his irritation. “How do you do that?” 

Connor stopped toying with the coin to give you his full attention. It was a bit intimidating when he stared at you full force. He’d seemed irritated this morning when you left the house to come to the news tower. 

The stormy look on his face was still present and now directed at you. It was an effort not to pick at your nails. 

You’d been trying to stop, everytime Connor would catch you he’d shoot you a warning glare before slapping your hands apart and taking them in his own. Although, sometimes you did it because he would interlace your fingers together. As pathetic as it was, the feeling of his skin against yours was soothing. 

He blinked a lot before the look on his face lightened and he tilted his head, “The coin trick?” Connor demonstrated again for you, flipping it between his fingers. You nodded and he flicked it back and forth between both hands before Hank finally snapped. 

He yanked it out of the air, “You’re starting to piss me off that coin, Connor.” 

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” he put the coin back in his pocket. “I’ll show you later,” he paused before finally adding, “at home.” Your cheeks felt warm as a smile slowly crept along your face. He’d never referred to your house like that, it brought you joy knowing that you could provide somewhere comforting for him. 

“The fuck did you just say?” Hank turned towards you, “Is he staying with you?”

You reached forward and clicked the button for the floor a couple times. How slow was this freaking elevator? 

“Were you not aware of that, Lieutenant?”

“No I wasn’t.” Hank shot you a disbelieving look, you slunked your way behind Connor, avoiding both of their gazes. 

“I found her passed out on her couch in a distressing condition. I’ve opted to stay with her and help her take care of herself while she heals.” 

Hank looked around Connor at you, “You didn’t tell me you needed help.”

“You didn’t ask.”

You were the first out of the elevator. “Hey, Y/N.”

You took in the multitude of SWAT and CSI agents. “Shit, what’s going on here? Was there a party and nobody told me?”

Chris scoffed, “That’s an understatement. It’s all over the news, so everybody’s been butting their nose in. Even the FBI wants a piece of the action.”

“Fuck me, that’s the last thing we need. Some FBI prick trying to take over.”

Hank walked up to the two of you, “Now we got the Feds on our back, I knew this was gonna be a shitty day. So what do we got?”

“A group of four androids. They knew the building, and they were all very well organized.”

You glanced back at Connor and gave him a narrowed eyed look. “Well if I know anything about androids,” you turned around again. “It’s that their real good at getting their hands on things they shouldn’t have. They probably managed to download the building schematics.”

“Building plans or not, I’m still trying to figure out how they got this far without being noticed.”

“Maybe they had some help,” Chris seemed a little surprised at your words. 

“What are you saying, they had someone on the inside?” You nodded absently at Hank's question as you took a look around the hallway where the deviants ambushed two guards. 

It’s definitely the least violent, hostile takeover you’ve ever seen. No casualties, only a few woozy guards and one technician in shock. 

Hank examined some bullet holes in the wall. “How many people were working here?”

“Just two employees and three androids.” You let Hank take over the rest of the briefing while you examined the evidence around the room. “The deviants took the humans hostage and broadcast their message live. They made their getaway from the roof.”

“The roof?”

“Yeah, they jumped with parachutes. We’re still trying to figure out where they landed,” do they know anything? “But the weather’s not helping. If you want to take a look at the video broadcast by the deviants, it’s on that screen over there.” 

You made your way over to the broadcasting room. Someone in a trench coat was standing in the middle of the room, blocking you from looking around. 

“Lieutenant, detective, this is Special Agent Perkins from the FBI. Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Y/L/N are in charge of investigating for Detroit Police.” Connor walked over the the group of you. 

SA Perkins nodded towards him, “What’s that?” You got immediate douchebag vibes from him. 

“My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.”

You wanted to face palm, did they not program him with any other greetings?

“Androids investigating androids, huh? You sure you want an android hanging around?” The irony wasn’t lost on you, but he didn’t have to be a dick and act like Connor wasn’t standing right in front of him. Hank scoffed, seemingly prepared to dismiss him, but SA Perkins wasn’t done yet. 

“After everything that happened…” The insinuation had your hands curling into fists. He didn’t even know the two of you, yet he thought he had the right to speak about something he knew jack shit about. You had taken a half a step forward before someone’s hand was on your wrist, stopping you. 

You looked down expecting to see Connor, instead Hank was gently holding your arm. He didn’t look at you, just kept staring at Perkins until the agent had made himself uncomfortable. You got a sickening amount of satisfaction at the way he crumpled under Hank's stare. 

“Whatever, soon the FBI will take over and you’ll be on another case.”

“Pleasure meeting you.” Hank was clearly done entertaining the rat faced asshole. 

“Have a nice day,” you gave him the fakest smile you could muster until he just scoffed

“Don’t fuck up my crime scene.” 

You watched him walk away, “I really wish you had let me just knock him down a peg.”

Hank gave you a long suffering look, “He would have had your badge faster than you could blink. God, what a fuckin’ prick.”

“I’d kill to see that asshole humbled.”

“Let’s have a look around,” Hank started towards the broadcasting desk. 

You made your way to the stairs, “I’ll check out the roof,” your foot was almost on the step, but then Connor appeared in front you out of nowhere. So close. 

“I think that’s unwise. You should stay somewhere both Hank and I can keep a watch over you, you’re still injured.” He made a pointed look towards your sling. You huffed out in frustration, his coddling was getting out of hand. 

“I’m a big girl, Connor, and you’re a detective bot. Not a caretaker, act like it.”

Connors head tilted and he squared his shoulders. Oh, this was about to be an argument. “You told me to prioritize my partners safety.”

Damn, that was really biting you in the ass. “Oh, well depriotize it.” Connor crossed his arms and stared you down, you really didn’t need him making a scene but shutting down on the stairwell to make a point. 

You threw your one good hand up in surrender, “Fine! Whatever,” you stood by the desk and sulked. He seemed way too smug as he walked off. 

“I’ve identified its model and serial number.”

Hank continued to stare at Connor, “Anything else I should know?”

“No. Nothing.” He didn’t know why he lied, but for some reason Connor didn’t want Hank or Y/N to know that the android leading the revolution was from the same line of androids he was. 

He was confused, he was RK800, a prototype and supposed to be the only one of his kind. Yet he was staring up at an RK200. He’s never thought about why he was 800, there was no reason to. But If he had, he would have assumed that his predecessors were just failed versions of himself  that couldn’t pass the Turing test. 

He would be wrong, because here in front of him was something completely different from himself.

What was CyberLife hiding? 

“You okay, Connor?” He was brought out of his stupor by the sound of your voice. He looked towards you, your arm was still in its sling, your hair still in the braids he had done for you and the jacket and jeans he had helped you dress in. Focusing on all these little things about you was helping him remember what he had to do. What he came to the tower for in the first place. 

He observed the slight tilt to your head and the suspicion on your face, “I’m fine. You?” 

Your eyes held the same untrusting gaze before you just nodded your head and moved to the other side of the room. Connor examined each piece of evidence, reconstructing the scene of the crime. SWAT came in through the hallway, shooting at the group of deviants and managing to hit one. They then made their escape towards the roof. 

He debated between the roof and investigating the androids in the break room. One of them was in charge of monitoring security, they would have seen the deviants making their way through the building and not have informed anyone. A deviant was somewhere in there. 

He knew that if he went up to the roof, inevitably you would follow, he didn’t want to run the risk of you getting further damaged. Connor made his way towards the break room. You lifted your head from the security footage you were examining to briefly glance at him as he passed by, before going back to reviewing the video. 

Three androids were lined up along the wall of the break room. One of them was deviant. 

LOOK FOR A REACTION TO SPOT THE DEVIANT

He turned towards the one on the far left, “What is your function?”

“I am a broadcast operator.” Connor’s eyes narrowed, its eyes were blinking continuously while answering. Connor didn’t recognize that behavior in any of the other androids standing before him. He continued questioning the one on the far left. 

“State your model.”

“Model JB300. Serial number 336 445 581.”

Connor turned to the android in the middle, still keeping one eye on the other one. “Were you present when the deviants broke in?”

“I do not remember.” The one on the left turned its head to face Connor before quickly looking away. 

He’d found the deviant.  

“Has anybody accessed your memory recently?”

“Not to my knowledge.” Deviants could lie, he wasn’t going to get any information out of it this way. He needed to switch to more aggressive tactics. 

“One of you saw the attack on the surveillance cameras and said nothing. Which means there is a deviant in this room… and I’m going to find out which one it is.” He hovered over the one on the left. 

“You’re going to be switched off. We’re gonna search your memory and tear you apart piece by piece for analysis. You’re going to be destroyed! Do you hear me? Destroyed!” It wouldn’t budge. 

Deviants could feel, perhaps if he used empathy against it, it would be more willing to provide information. 

“Why should all of you be destroyed, if only one is deviant? Turn yourself in, or two innocent androids will be shut down because of you. If you give yourself up, maybe I can convince my humans not to destroy you.” 

He switched tactics again, “The deviants have just been caught. They gave you up.” The one on the left’s LED was fully red now. “There’s no point in lying. We know everything.”

He was successful in revealing the deviant, but not in the way he wanted to. It lunged at him, taking him by the throat and slamming him into the counter. Connor struggled fighting off the androids hands and trying to shove him off. The android reach down and ripped Connors core component out, stabbing him in the hand with a knife and nailing him down to the counter. 

Connor had two minutes to shutdown, he kicked a chair nearby across the room, “Y/N, help! I need help…”

Connors optic units were failing, everything around him was going in and out of focus. He barely managed to tug the knife out of his hand before collapsing on the floor. 

He crawled as close as he could towards the component, instructing each arm to move one at a time, they gave out nearly a foot away from the device. 

Just as you came barreling into the room. “Connor!” You rushed over to him and dropped down to your knees, your hands were shaking as you rolled him over. “Connor, oh my god, oh god it’s okay. You’re okay.” Your hands were hovering over him, unsure where to touch before finally landing on his face. “It’s alright, you’re gonna be fine baby.”

Your eyes left his and you looked around for something. You let out a shuddering breath and moved away from him. His arm grabbed yours without prompting. 

He didn’t want….

Didn’t want what?

He couldn’t want or desire he was an android, yet deep inside he knew… 

He didn’t want to die. 

He didn’t want to die alone.

“Connor, I’ll be right back, it’s gonna be okay,” but it wouldn’t be. Shutdown was imminent and Connor knew that whatever progress he made would be erased. And whoever replaced him would prioritize the mission, they wouldn’t care if you were going to die. Your life would mean nothing to them. 

That was more terrifying than the thought of dying. 

You finally managed to rip your arm free and then you were shoving something in his hands. “Here!” When he made no move to look at what it was, you ripped it back out. “Fuck, Connor!” 

His body shot forward and you caught him by the shoulders before he could fall over. You had slammed the component back into his core. 

DIAGNOSTIC 

Memory…. 100%

Optics…. 100%

Auditory…. 100%

He dismissed the rest of the diagnostic check and rushed out of the room. He slipped and slammed into a wall on the way out, his body still calibrating. He ignored your shouts and continued after the deviant. 

It was nearly to the elevator by the time he caught up, “It’s a deviant stop it!” The android grabbed the rifle from the SWAT agent's hand. Connor processed the quickest possible options for him to take. 

BANG

The deviant was on the ground, deactivated by the gun Connor had swiped from the police officer next to him. 

“Nice shot, Connor,” Hank helped Chris back to his feet. He gave Connor an appreciative look just as you ran into the room. 

“I heard gunshots, are you okay?” You were looking at Connor, waiting for an answer, a frantic look about you. 

Was he okay?

He didn’t know anymore?  

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“You saved human lives, you saved my life,” it was the warmest he’d ever seen Hank. 

Yet the only response he could give was, “I wanted it alive.”

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#Broken Machinery #connor rk800 x reader #Connor rk800 x fem!readr #connor rk800 #Dbh #dbh x reaer #detroit become human #Detroit become human x reader

[chipistrate]

Could you tell me about Endpoint Security? I found it mentioned in your pinned post, but I couldn't find anything else about it.

Oh yeah totally! Yeah I haven't really introduced that one properly lmao

Endpoint Security is a Security Breach swap AU that swaps Vanessa and Gregory's places as antag and protag.

Vanessa wakes up in the security office you can access in Rockstar Row- the one with 4 doors where you shock animatronics when they start banging on them. She has no recollection of getting her job as head of security, or really even the past few years, but now that she's here she finds herself being taunted by a kid wearing a rabbit mask hiding behind the screens who sends three animatronics banging at the doors; Roxy, Chica, and Monty. If she can survive, then the kid will set her free and give her a prize.

Once that's over, she receives a Sundrop themed fazwatch and a level 1 security badge from who she now knows as Dr. Rabbit. She notices that all the equipment she should have is now gone, Dr. Rabbit informing her that she dropped them earlier and he ordered the animatronics to scatter them around the building for her to find. She also catches wind of some higher power above Rab when he mentions how he's just "keeping her busy until he decides what to do with her".

Rab follows her around through the watch and keeps track of her progression, while Vanessa just tries to survive until 6am, hoping her coworkers will come open the doors and let her out before she can learn who "he" is.

Here's a bit of a description I wrote for my friend when I first made the AU so you might have a better idea what the general story progression is like;

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"Now armed with the voice of Dr. Rabbit on her wrist, access to the maps and security cameras, and a flashlight as her only weapon, Vanessa has to survive until 6am while going around and trying her best to still do her job, possibly finding ways to free each of the animatronics from Dr. Rabbits control in the process, leaving them husks in need of charging stations, much to Dr. Rabbits dismay- yet also intrigue. She'll collect tools such as the faz-wrench and make her way back up the ranks as she collects security badges, which Dr. Rabbit treats as "rewards" for passing his challenges. It's her duty to figure out what is going on at the Pizzaplex, even though she can't remember her job very well- she still wants to see it through to the end of the night. As she explores, she'll find that two series of arcade machines, the Princess Quest trilogy and Balloon World, may be the key to figuring out what exactly lead her down the path to where she is now, and what the deeper secret of the Pizzaplex is."

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I haven't developed it a whole lot, but it's definitely an AU I wanna get back to later!

#Chip Chatter #Fnaf Endpoint Security #thanks for asking!! I love talking about my AUs :D

[lysol1201]

This Time We Make A New Start

Rookie/After Re2!Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader (mostly platonic, but can be read romantically)

Roommate Series

Summary: The daily routine of you and your roommate, Leon Scott Kennedy.

Takes place in modern time, not in the 90s because I felt like it and you can't stop me.

Word Count: 1050

Genre: Can be seen as fluff, just some fun roommate stuff

TW: profanity, mentions of depression and suicide, reader takes medication (self-indulgent type shit), if any others plz lmk (not beta read, we die like luis)

Inspired by: Does Anybody Have a Map? from Dear Evan Hansen Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance

++++

5 am every morning. The most annoying alarm going off every. Single. Morning.

No snooze either. Your roommate wouldn’t let you.

“Y/N! Wakey wakey!” He screamed from the hallway of your apartment. 

How could he be such a morning person? He was 22 and being trained to death for some secret agent organization or whatever. Well again, so were you.

When Raccoon City went down, the same thing happened to your city, which was a small bit away from Raccoon. You were the sole survivor. You and Leon were both recruited and became partners. Due to training a lot and getting along, you chose to live together. It’s not like you had anywhere else to be, your home was gone, and you needed a new place to stay near the training grounds. It had been one year of you two living together. It may be chaotic, but if it weren’t for him and if it weren’t for you, who knows where you two would be? Depressed? Suicidal? Dead? You were all each other had.

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” You shouted in response, jumping out of bed quickly. You put on some socks and slippers and left your room and made a path to the bathroom. 

The door was closed, so you knocked. “Ocupado!” Leon spoke from the other side of the door.

“Hurry up, I need to brush my teeth!” 

Soon after, you heard a flush and the sink turned on. Then, the door opened. “It’s fine, I just needed to piss,” He smiled at you and stepped aside, letting you in. “I gotta brush my teeth too, so you have to deal with me.”

“Fine, fine,” You agreed, squeezing to the left side of the sink while Leon went to the right. You both grabbed your toothbrushes, then Leon reached for the toothpaste to put some on your brush and his. “Whoever finishes first doesn’t have to make breakfast,” You challenged, immediately starting to brush your teeth after.

“That’s not fair!” He squeaked, quickly getting to brush his teeth. 

You won.

“Cook!” You bumped him, rinsing your mouth and putting your toothbrush away. Walking out of your room, you hear Leon finish and catch up to you.

“Take your meds, dumbass,” Leon elbowed you in the side. “Can’t have you crying at the training grounds,” He chuckled with a wink and sped up his pace to get to the kitchen to avoid the backlash.

“Oh, shut up! That’s not how it works!”

“Just swallow them, gobble them already!” You heard him laugh from the kitchen while you walked back into your room to both take your meds and get dressed.

You got into the standard training clothing that was provided for you and some running shoes. Once finished with all you needed in your room, you quickly exited and rushed to the kitchen.

“It’s 5:30, hurry up and eat or else we’ll be late,” Leon spoke, putting a plate of eggs and toast in front of you. “I’d rather not have to do non-stop fights until I win 5 in a row again. Some were fucking knife fights. I’ve been here for a year, jesus fucking christ,” He complained while he sped through eating his food.

“Hey, I had to do agility training for 8 fucking hours straight! If I failed a chase, I’d have to start from the start and lose all of my progress,” You groaned and took a bite out of your toast. “They’re trying to get is fucking killed.”

“I guess that’s to help us survive in whatever… else happens to us,” Leon sighed. 

You could tell he was thinking back to Raccoon City. His face had dropped and he had gotten quiet. It was times like these that you knew you two needed each other here. “Don’t worry, one day I’m sure you’ll be able to beat the shit out of Krauser, and it’ll be the most satisfying moment of your life.” You chuckled and hoped to bring the smile back to his face.

Leon let out an amused huff. “Yeah right,” The smile slightly returned. That was all you needed.

You stood up to go to the fridge for some milk, but once you opened it, there was no milk. “Leon, did you drink all the milk?” You turned to him in annoyance. He looked away and pretended to not hear you. “You’re paying for the next gallon!” He leaned back in his chair and groaned in response.

“Oh fuck, we gotta go. Traffic is being shit right now according to the news,” Leon stuffed down the last of his eggs, standing up and rushing to his room to get dressed.

You grabbed your bag that sat by the front door that you had already put fresh water and spare clothes in and waited for Leon. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m leaving without you!” 

When you finished your sentence you saw Leon rushing from his room basically hopping on one foot while he tried to slip on his other shoe. “Hold the fuck on, geez!” He finally got the shoe on, grabbed his bag by the door, and the hung up car keys. “Got everything?”

You saluted him. “Yes, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh, shut up,” He chuckled, opening the door and letting you out first as he quickly followed behind you. 

It wasn’t perfect living that way. Knowing what you were doing for a living, being forced into this, having to go through what you two went through. But without each other, that light in your eyes would have faded a long time ago. You weren’t sure how long that light would stay there, knowing it was fading day by day, but you knew with Leon by your side it would take a bit longer. And he knew that with you by his side, he’d have more hope to hold on to.

It had hurt to say goodbye to all your friends, all of them had met their tragic ends. All the people you wanted to save, and with every passing day you felt that survivor's guilt and the feeling of missing them all. 

For them, you didn’t want to lose this fight. But you couldn’t do it alone.

You two needed each other, to save the light behind your eyes.

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy resident evil 2 #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy