#much darker than my usual stuff but i wanted to try something new

[auteurdelabre]

Code Broken (Part 3/5) mean!Joel x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

summary: "And I wanna give it to you," Joel says huskily. "Wanna give you everything. But no more trying to stop me. No more pretending like you don't want this. 'cuz we both see how much you do."

You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

[AU where Joel Miller ends up in Jackson City by himself.]

warnings/tags:  voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, Extremely dubious consent, unprotected p in v, fingering, coercion (kinda), Joel is bad at feelings, Mean Joel, Dirty Talk, infidelity,  nicknames (pretty eyes)

word count:  9.1k

a/n: Y'all, this whole series is pretty depraved (from my perspective) and much darker than my normal stuff. I wanted it as a challenge and I had a lot of fun doing the series, there's 5 parts so I hope you enjoy it. Comments and the like really make my day. xx

masterlist

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The chill of early December has settled over Jackson city in a way that feels cozy despite the cool temperature. It’s the time of year when colorful lights are strung, homes blanketed in snow looking like something out of an old postcard.

The Tipsy Bison is packed when you arrive. It usually is in the colder months when the days feel more oppressive and darker for longer. It boasts a humble catalogue of booze, dart boards and circular tables to play cards at or just relax.  You shrug off your coat as you join Trish and your new friend Markus at one of the tables

Trish is talking to him about her wedding being moved to August. She's been talking nonstop about it and you don't blame her. In this new world there's so little to be overjoyed about. Markus listens with interest, expressing surprise that she wants to postpone the wedding. 

"I always wanted a summer wedding," she says blushing prettily. "And I figure why rush?" 

Markus is new to the colony. Dark hair and light eyes and the slightest New England accent. He works in the Jackson city stables, a confident rider who used to work on his family's farm. 

He fell into your friend group the same way you had all those years ago: Trish taking you under her wing. You and Markus are both shy, both not quite sure what to say to one another when Trish isn't around. She's the glue that holds your group together. 

Right now she's regaling you both with an amusing story about one of the kids at the school she teaches.  

You dart a glance at Markus, amused to see the affection he's shooting at Trish from behind his beer glass. It's obvious he has a crush on her and you don't blame him. She's funny and sweet and caring. There's a reason you care so deeply for her. 

You should be listening to your friend but instead your eyes are across the crowded room fixed on a figure you've come to recognize as both your punishment and pleasure: Joel Miller. 

Only he isn't alone. Hasn't been for over month now. Now at his side sits a statuesque woman laughing lightly with Tommy who sits opposite she and Joel.  

Her name is Tess. She came to Jackson City a month and a half ago. You'd heard about everything from Trish who had been in the when she walked through the doors of Jackson city. 

She's a beautiful woman in her late forties with wide blue eyes, a kind smile and the kind of rough mannerisms that were to be expected for anyone who'd lived in a QZ long enough. 

She is smiling at something Joel is saying to Tommy, her focus on the drink in front of her. You watch with a twist in your stomach as she squeezes Joel's arm with casual affection. 

Joel doesn't pull away. He actually shoots Tess a shy smile that makes your breath hitch. 

You watch as Tess and Tommy start chatting, Joel's focus not with them. As if he senses your gaze on him Joel's gaze swims in your direction. Your own eyes have sharply darted away, back to the still talking Trish. 

You haven't told anyone what happened with you and Joel. Not even her. Sometimes the guilt of that silence consumes you, but you're able to justify it. It's not like it's a relationship, it's not like it's anything other than two isolated incidents. 

Markus offers to get the drinks and before either of you can stop him he's started loping over to the bar, moving past Joel and Tess. You and Trish watch him move and your friend watches as Tess and Joel exchange a smile. 

"I still can't believe that grumpy bastard has a girlfriend," Trish whispers with a grin in your direction.  

Neither can you. 

Apparently Tess and Joel had known each other back in their old QZ, had travelled together and separated after a raid had gone sour which ended with her wanting to partner with the fireflies and Joel wanting to find Tommy. 

"They look so natural together though," Trish reflects. "It's nice they have each other."

You hate the twisting that starts in your stomach at that. Hate the jealousy that threatens to spill into every part of you. 

Joel isn't yours and you aren't his by any stretch of the imagination. Two clandestine meetings that both ended with you sleeping alone afterwards. The second had made living next to Joel bearable though. 

You no longer hide in your home paranoid he would be outside the same time as you. No longer terrified if you both attended movie night. But that didn't mean you were comfortable with him. It didn't mean anything more than a polite nod if you met eyes in public. 

"Have you spoken with her yet?" Trish asks with a curiosity that's clear across her freckled face. "Tess?" 

You have. 

Quite by accident when she came into the textile room asking if her jeans could be patched. You were the only one there at the time and she had been so unassuming in her green flannel and nervous glance in your direction that you had smiled brightly and assured her you could. 

You took the jeans from her, bringing them over to an open table full of old fabric. She followed you there and asked if she could wait while you fixed up her jeans. 

"Of course."

You'd nodded, your eyes going to the sewing supplies. She was obviously new to the community, still amazed at everything she came upon. 

"You look familiar. You're on Rancher Street, right?" At your nod a small smile spread across her features. "I thought so."

It wasn't until she sat down and introduced herself as "Tess your new neighbor" that the shoe had dropped. 

Suddenly the green plaid she wore seemed more vivid in your mind as you realized: it was Joel's. 

The conversation had grown stilted after that. You weren't sure how to comprehend that you were talking to the woman who captured the heart of the enigma next door. Weren't sure why this ugly jealousy was running through your veins when you had no claim on him yourself. 

She'd been friendly talking about her time in the QZ. She'd mentioned Joel and must have noticed the way you bristled because she'd leaned forward with an earnest look on face.

"I know Joel can be a bit . . . temperamental," she'd offered. "But I promise under all that he's a teddy bear."

You'd had to hold in a scoff at that. She'd left not even five minutes later with the jeans in hand. 

Tess moved into Joel's place next to yours. She tries to invite you over for drinks at least once a week and you come up with feeble excuses every time. 

You don't want to see it. Don't want to witness Joel and this woman who makes him soft and sweet. You don't want to sit in the same house he fucked your mouth and pretend like he's a stranger to you.

He is a stranger of course, but in a different sort of way. 

Sometimes you hear them having sex. Not as often as you would have assumed. It's never obnoxious, never over the top. Just for them, no one else. But if their window is open you can hear it, the low moans and the rhythmic creak of the bed. 

"Here we are."

You gratefully accept the beers pushed towards you and Trish by Markus, your brows rising when Trish shakes her head and looks up at Markus bashfully. 

"I tried to tell you when you went up, only water for me."

There is a pause and then realization hits you, almost knocking the wind from you when Trish flashes you a bright smile. 

"Congrats," you croak before coming around the table to embrace her. "When?"

"June." Trish looks down at her still flat belly. "

You feel as if your world is growing unsteady. Not the Trish wouldn't make the most fantastic parent, and not that her fiancé Cliff wouldn't make an amazing father. It's more the selfish realization that your friend will be a mother. The frightening realization that her focus will be elsewhere, on her new family. 

The thing that it always made you feel close to Trish was the feeling that you were each other's family. Knowing that this one no longer be the case makes your stomach ache. 

You feel left behind as you look around the bar to see happy couples, partners. Joel and Tess are sailing into your view as you make this assessment, their shoulders pressing against one another. 

"I just hope the dress still fits after I give birth," Trish laughs. You grin with a roll of your eyes knowing that even if she didn't you'd fix it for her without question.

Markus is nursing his beer bottle looking unusually down in the mouth. You make a mental note to talk to him about it. You'd assumed how he felt about Trish was a harmless crush. But seeing his face now you wonder how deep his affection lies.

"How about some darts ---" Trish is offering but you're shaking your head and pulling on your jacket.  

"I'm sorry, normally I would but I'm so tired," you lie, trying to sound casual. "How about tomorrow night you guys come to mine and we celebrate properly? Trish, bring Cliff. He needs to be properly congratulated too!"

Trish and Markus are enthusiastic about this plan and you agree that tomorrow evening will be a blast. You move through the crowded bar, your eyes fixed on the door which is starting to wave and warp as tears start flooding your eyes. 

You make it outside, the sound of the bar dimming behind you as the door closes. You move to the far side of the building, leaning against it. You're thankful for the hour and the darkness. The streets are empty and the snowy ground muffles your soft cries. 

The tears arrive, slipping down your face and freezing in the chill of the night. You take a moment to breathe; the crisp air flooding your lungs when you hear the door opening, letting the bar sounds escape before closing again. You quickly wipe at your face, hoping it's not someone you know who's just exited. 

"You okay?"

Joel Miller walks slowly towards you. He's wearing a dark tan jacket with his hands thrust into the pockets. 

He looks good, impossibly good, and for some reason that makes you absolutely furious. You cross your arms over your chest, hoping you don't look as pathetic as you feel. Joel keeps walking towards you, his boots crunching over the snow as he approaches. 

"You looked like you were crying back there," Joel says, nonplussed by your silent vitriol. "Were you?"

"Why pretend like you care? We both know you can barely stand me," you manage to choke out, sniffling loudly and looking at your boots. 

Joel stills and frowns hard at you. "How d'ya figure that?"

You pull your jacket hood up, your breath freezing in the air in front of you.  

"Oh I dunno, just every interaction we've ever had . . . " 

You trail off, your palms raised helplessly. 

He's standing there waiting for you to explain further. His hair is tousled by the wind, making him appear more boyish and less intimidating. You suppose this and your irritation is what prompts your honesty. 

"You know the first time we ever spoke I told you that you played the guitar well. Asked you if it was Fleetwood Mac, remember?" Your eyes angrily search his. "And you've been a bastard to me ever since." 

For the first time since you've met him, Joel Miller looks unsure of himself. His eyes crane away from you a beat before returning.

"I don't like playin' in front of people," Joel finally explains in a quiet rasp. "Didn't know you'd heard me." 

You stare at him in shock because Joel Miller seems embarrassed. For some reason you can't imagine Joel feeling anything other than powerful. Not just because of his broad shoulders and strong legs. But because of that quiet confidence he carries with him like a shadow. 

Embolden by this unexpected show of vulnerability by Joel you continue, taking a step towards him.  

"What about the movies?"

"The movies?"

Joel looks perplexed by your inquiry, his eyes drifting as he recalls the incident and then nodding when he understands your reference motioning back towards the bar. 

"It was packed. You and that friend of yours needed seats together."

His answer is brief and to the point, just like him. But you're not satisfied at all with this explanation, your mind flying back to all those months ago, the night you'd felt so offended. Something is niggling at the back of your mind. 

"But you were so mad," you prod.

He exhales lightly and you wonder if you've offended him. He speaks slowly, evenly, his eyes drifting over your face. 

"Do you remember what you were wearing that night?"

This wasn't the answer you'd expected and your brain staggers to re frame. You frown, trying to think back to that night.

 "No."

"Dress," Joel states simply. "Yellow with little flowers. You could see your tits through the fabric, hard nipples 'n all."

You think back to that evening and recall it had been a hot summer night. The dress had been one of your favorites, handmade with fabric brought into town. The top was tight and you'd decided a bra was unnecessary. 

But why would Joel be upset by that? You watch as Joel inhales sharply at the memory, the fingers of his right hand twitching at his side. He can see the question in your eyes and continues. 

"You kept bumping into me, your skin all smooth." You watch Joel swallow, his lean neck bobbing. "I couldn't stay there beside you the whole movie. Not when you looked like that. Not when all I could think about was fucking you." 

The words send a stab of pleasurable lightning down your core. Without thinking you let out the softest sigh at the sensation. 

"I was mad at myself for wantin' you so bad. Wanted to punish you for makin’ me want you."

“That’s horrible.”

“I told you that night, I’m not a good man.”

Something in Joel's eyes darkens and he takes a step towards you. You know that if he touches you its game over. 

"I should go," you blurt, moving backwards. Your boots crunch over the snow as you retreat. "Hope you and Tess have a good night."

The energy shifts immediately and Joel's eyes go back to that cool, guarded look that you recognize so well. He gives a sharp nod before moving back to the bar. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning you decide to see if you can get a few extra supplies for tonight. Just a small jug of wine and perhaps a few slices of meat and cheese for a food platter. 

You're out the door, thinking about what to say to Markus when a husky female voice reaches out to you.

"Hey there, any chance you have any peas? The commissary is out and I really wanna make pea soup."

You pause wrapping the scarf around your neck at the sound of her voice. Tess is at the fence separating your properties wearing jeans and a dark green jacket. 

She looks strangely vulnerable standing there looking expectantly at you. Instinctively you want to ignore her or lie. But you know that's unfair, that she's done nothing wrong. 

"I do, actually. Come inside" 

Hours later in bed you wondered why you had asked her in, been so ready to invite a complete stranger into your home. You think it must be because of Trish and the baby. You know your one true friend will be taken from you, busy with her new life. 

Maybe you'd been hoping to make a new friend, a new relationship. Maybe you feared being lonely. Maybe you wanted some pathetic connection with Joel. 

Whatever the reason had been, Tess gratefully accepts, following you into your house. 

"I have some leeks too," you offer after passing her the can of peas from your cupboard. "Might be nice in the soup." 

Tess watches you carefully, as if she still isn't used to this ready kindness. She extends her hand, plucking the shoots from your outstretched hand.

She raises the bundle to her nose, inhaling deeply, a grin cracking over her face at this.

"Fuck, I used to hate vegetables when I was a kid. Mom had to force me to eat 'em." She gives a serene smile, looking at the green shoots in her hand with affection. "Now? Holding these? Can't remember the last time I've seen something so beautiful."

You nod, thinking back to your first week at Jackson city and knowing exactly what she meant. Shocked at the small luxuries. 

"It's how I felt about the movie nights," you mused. "And the popcorn."

"Almost feels normal," she replies with that same small smile. "Almost."

She leaves with your supplies a few moments later after unsuccessfully trying to convince you to come over to their place for dinner. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Trish is laughing, tilting her forehead into Cliff's shoulder as she throws her card hand down onto the table. 

"I'm out."

You've been at your place for hours drinking and playing cards. You hope it's enough to make up for your rapid escape the other night.

"I'm never winning a hand," Cliff days, his cheeks are pink from the booze and the laughter. "Y'all are cheats."

Markus is watching you all from behind his glass, frowning slightly when you turn up the cards in the center of the table.

You give a loud crow of excitement as you realize you've won the hand. You fist pump the air. 

"Fuck," Markus spits, throwing down his cards with a scowl. 

You joyfully pull the lentils you're using as currency towards you into a messy little pile.  

Trish tries to hide her yawn behind her wrist but you catch it and raise an amused eyebrow. 

"Not even the second trimester and I'm already exhausted," she says. "Scared to think what the third trimester will bring."

"Time to get you home," Cliff growls into Trish's neck, his hands skimming over Trish's body as she squeals. 

"Cliff!"

You watch Markus shove his chair back and exit the table, murmuring about the bathroom.  

You and the couple across from you stand, the evening drawing to an obvious close. 

"Thanks for having us," Cliff says with a slur. "Better take advantage. After the baby gets here I don't know if we'll be leaving the house often."

He and Trish exchange warm smiles but you feel like you've swallowed a stone. The couple pulls on their jackets, Cliff swaying drunkenly. 

"I meant to ask, is Tess nice?" Trish's asks, jerking her head in the direction of the house next door. 

"Yeah," you shrug nodding. "A bit shy, maybe."

You don't expand on that, and Trish is so busy making sure Cliff doesn't topple over that she doesn't ask more. 

"See you at the movie," Trish says pressing her lips to your cheek. "I think they're playing a western."

You wave at them as they make their way out your front door into the cold, dark night. 

Curious at the lack of Markus' presence, you go through your home, travelling up to your bedroom when the other spaces prove empty. 

You're surprised when you find Markus in your room, one hand in his jeans pocket, the other trailing over some of your books on the shelves. He turns when he hears the floorboards creak. 

"Sorry I just had to.... I needed some space," Markus explains with a stammer. "I'll go ---"

"its fine," you assure him with a wave of your hand. "You want another beer?"

Markus shakes his head looking miserable. You step further into the bedroom, your eyes following his form as he goes back to your books. 

"You okay?" You venture softly. "You seemed off tonight."

"I just..." Markus shrugs. He doesn't continue and he doesn't have to. You know why he's upset. 

"I know," you finish for him, not wanting to embarrass him, you step towards him. "I have a similar... Issue."

Markus turns, looking at you with surprise. His cheeks are pink with embarrassment. "Really?"

"Yeah." You nod sharply. "And he's with someone too, someone great, so I get it."

"I just ... want her so badly," Markus forces the words from his mouth. You can tell he's both relieved and humiliated at sharing this with you. 

You feel such sympathy for him that you can't help but reach out a tender hand to his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Markus. I know how badly it hurts. Trust me."

His light eyes jump to your face in shock at the contact. Without warning he launches his face towards you. He kisses you needful, his teeth clacking against yours as he moves his mouth to yours. 

You pull back in shock, your eyes blown wide. Markus does the same, regret etched over his features. He swears before throwing himself into the chair in front of your window. He looks absolutely devastated.

"I'm so sorry," he says rubbing at his face. "That was so --"

"It's fine," you insist though you're not quite sure what to do. Markus is perfectly fine and perfectly attractive. But his kisses, his touch mean nothing. 

No, not nothing. They feel like a betrayal. 

As if your thoughts are spoken out loud, a light in the house across from you flicks on, illuminating the narrow upper window. 

Your eyes are on Markus' face, but you can see out of your peripherals that is Joel. He's in the bathroom, looking like he's about to brush his teeth. 

He's not yours. There is no betrayal.

Joel doesn't see you, but just the knowledge that he's there, so close, makes your body tingle. 

"More than fine," you finally murmur from above Markus. 

His light eyes shine up at you. "Really?"

Never breaking eye contact you hook your fingers into your jeans and bring sure m them down your legs. They pool at your feet and you step out of them. 

You secretly hope Joel is watching you as you put in this little show. A vindictive thread is going through you.  

Fuck Joel Miller.

You let you palm slide downwards under the band of your panties until you're cupping your sex. It's perfunctory and quick but that's how you want it. 

You give a sensual smirk in Markus direction. 

"Really."

At this you slip a finger inside your cunt, not surprised to find you're already soaked. You slide a finger over your aching clit and shudder at the pleasure that goes through you. 

Markus grunts as his fingers hurriedly go to the fly of his jeans. You remove your hand from your panties as Markus pulls down his jeans and boxers. His cock springs out, pulsing and warm when you trace a finger along the tip, coating it with your slick. 

He lets out a small groan as you do this and you smile as he pulls you by the waist towards him. He's impatient, quick and needy. You let him because it feels good, because his desire for you makes you feel less alone. 

Your eyes subtly venture over to Joel's house. You didn't even mean to do it, your gaze is just drawn there. You expect darkness and still in the night. 

You're not prepared to see Joel standing there framed in the narrow window, but he is. He's turned off the light, so he's barely visible. If not for the brightness of the moon you might not have caught him. 

A jolt goes through you at the sight of him facing you, his dark eyes glittering in the shadows. 

The windows in your bedroom are tall, stopping at Markus' waist. You know Joel can see almost everything.

You want him to see everything. 

You don't make any indication you've seen him, but his presence is the sole reason you bend, taking the tip of Markus' cock in your mouth and licking. It's pure spite for all the times you've had to sit there and hear Joel fuck Tess. You hope he's watching another man start to fuck your mouth. You hope it makes him jealous. 

You continue bobbing your head, sucking Markus underwhelming cock until his head jerks back at the sensation and he lets out a small, strangled noise. He's close - very close. You move back to a stand, viewing Markus' slack jaw as he pants up at you. 

"Keep going?" He asks in a beg. 

You hide a smirk and shake your head gently. A flick of your eyes confirms Joel is still there, hidden in the shadows so you urge Markus' hands to the bottom of your shirt.

Markus is a quick learner, moving the fabric up your body and pulling it off you as his cock grinds against your inner thigh. The bra is discarded to the ground along with your panties and you stand there naked in front of two sets of eyes. 

'Fuck, you're pretty," Markus murmurs as his hand goes to cup your breast, the other snaking between your thighs. "And so wet."

Not for you.

A flash of movement catches your eye and without turning your head you realize it's the face of Joel's watch catching the moonlight. You can't see everything, but you recognize the jerky motions of his wrist. 

He's stroking his cock and watching you. 

A new surge of arousal goes through you at that. You go to the table beside your bed and pull out a condom, passing it to Markus. He moves with shaky hands, rolling it over his cock before you quickly clamor onto Markus' lap. 

With a determined look in Joel's direction you sink onto Markus' cock and give a theatrical sigh, your mouth parting.

Markus makes a small whinnying in the back of his throat and you wish you could silence him for the rest of this experience.  

A wave of guilt goes through you at that thought. You're using him. 

The guilt lasts until Markus thrusts up into you causing your body to jolt. You grip his shoulders, looking down at him. His eyes are shut tightly and there's no doubt in your mind that he's using you just as well.

You don't tell him you're doing the same. That when he begins to fuck you in earnest and your eyes fall shut that is Joel Miller your thinking of. 

But when your eyes crack open it's Joel Miller you see, staring out at you. He's moved to be framed in the moonlight and you can see his hand is moving hurriedly over the head of his cock. 

He's getting off to Markus fucking you. 

You know it's wrong to enjoy that, but it doesn't stop the thrill that goes through you as you bounce up and down on Markus lap. 

"Fuck you feel good."

Markus is grunting into your sternum, his hips grinding to a halt. Despite his need he's trying to prolong this. But you don't want that, you want to match Joel's tempo which is fast and getting faster. 

"Faster," you urge, swivelling your hips and Markus immediately acquiesces. His hips jerk up into you, thrusting as his hands move to grip your hips. 

Your own palms balance against the glass pane of your large bedroom window, cool under your touch. You begin bouncing on Markus lap with gusto, your eyes jumping to see Joel moving more into the center of the window.

He wants you to see him. You can see he's breathing raggedly as he pumps himself, one hand balanced on the window frame. He's watching you, unblinking as if he's worried he'll miss something. 

"Faster," you command Markus in a breathy coo as you watch Joel pumping his cock, fucking his hand at a blinding pace. You breasts are bouncing harshly, your thighs trembling. 

"So good," you groan now, but it's to Joel whose lips are parted slowly, his eyes barely open. 

"I'm gonna come," you whimper, your hips grinding down on an enthusiastic Markus cock. You wonder if Joel can read your lips through the glass.

Joel nods in the window at you, his hand pumping his cock. He's murmuring something but you obviously can't hear with the window and distance between your homes. 

"I'm gonna come for you," you wail, you eyes fixed on Joel's face. His eyes are half closed and his mouth is slack. 

And while it's Markus who releases himself within you, it's Joel who you watch spilling himself over his knuckles and groaning silently behind the window. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It’s a week later when Tess finally corners you, demanding you come over for a drink. You’ve put her off so often, so long that it feels your only answer can be what you give her: a feeble yes.

You follow her into Joel’s home, trying to pretend you don’t recognize the chipped paint or guitar beside the fireplace. That the art on the wall is fascinating and you need to be led to the table. 

There’s noise in the kitchen and you realize with a sinking terror that Joel is home.

"Can you grab an extra glass?" Tess calls over her shoulder as you take a seat at the table. She shoots you a cheerful look followed by a wink. "Finally convinced our neighbor to have a drink with us."

There is the sound of a glass falling and smashing onto the floor from the kitchen and Tess looks towards the noise. Joel steps out with two mismatched tumblers looking stormy. 

"One slipped," he explains passing Tess the glasses. "'S'okay though, I don't really feel like a drink."

"Since when?" Tess says giving his arm a playful bump with her shoulder. He gives her a ghost of a smile. "C'mon Joel. Try n’ be social."

Joel gives a small nod, following her to the table where you sit trying in vain to look anywhere but his face. He takes the seat across from you, his large hands folded on the table as if he's about to interrogate you. This later proves to be ironic as Tess is the one peppering you with questions.

Where did you live originally? Are you with someone? What do you do for work? For fun?

You feel overwhelmed sitting there, your fingers trailing down the side of your whiskey tumbler. 

Chicago. Single. Textiles. Reading. 

Your answers are brief and spoken in a soft mutter. 

"Just you here?" Tess prods. "No family?"

You don't enjoy talking about yourself or the life you had before. You think of the grainy photograph in the album you keep. Your throat feels tight. 

"What do you read?"

This is the first question Joel has asked you, the first thing he's said that doesn't sound dragged from him. Habitually your eyes go to the speaker, moving from Tess ' s face to Joel's. He's studying you, that much is obvious. 

"Anything I can get my hands on," you answer truthfully. "Austen, Steinbeck, Bradbury ---"

"You have some Bradbury don't you, Joel?" Tess interrupts looking at Joel. "I thought I saw some when I was cleaning."

"Yup, Austen too." Joel nods and his dark eyes capture yours once more. "You can borrow 'em if you want."

You shake your head. "I don't want to bother you with -"

"Isn't a bother if I'm offering," Joel says flatly. He talks in a way that makes you feel uncertain of his mood. Is he irritated? Amused? It's hard to tell when you refuse to look in his eyes. Tess brushes a piece of lint from his shoulder and Joel flashes her a ghost of a smile. You wonder what they must have seen in their time together to have Joel of all people so domestic.

"Sure," you nod. "I'd like that."

"Lemme check upstairs," Joel says. "I might have a few packed away."

At this he stands and leaves you and Tess. You wait until the creak of his footsteps is overhead upstairs before you look back at Tess.

"See, he's not an asshole all the time," Tess says smiling over her glass. You smile back shyly. 

"What's his deal?" You try to act unaffected, as if her reply doesn't really matter. "Until you, I don't think I'd ever seen him smile before."

Tess looks uncertain of if she should share. She doesn't know you at all and by the looks of it to her, neither does Joel. 

"Joel's seen a lot," she finally answers. You nod, knowing that's the best you'll get and perhaps that's for the best.

She doesn't tell you more, but you already know. You've seen the photo in Joel's room. You've seen the haunted look in his eyes. But you don't want to ask more because learning more about Joel, caring about him, seems like a bad idea. It makes things harder. 

"It's nice to see him happy," you offer without thinking. You surprise yourself with that. 

You hear your name being called from upstairs. 

"Sounds like he found those books," Tess smiles. "I gotta pop out to grab some stuff for dinner. If you're still here when I get back you should stay and eat with us."

You give a noncommittal noise in reply. She exits just as you go to the staircase, looking up nervously. You know what and who waits for you there. 

Don't be so pathetic.

You're at the top of the stairs within seconds, carried by trembling legs. Joel's in the doorframe of the second bedroom, his shoulders almost as wide as the door.

He glances over at you at your approach, his hands full of paperbacks. A cursory look tells you there are some gems in there. 

"Got those books for you," Joel murmurs. 

You nod, thinking of how strange it feels to actually be having a genuine conversation with him. Your mind draws a blank on what to say to him next. 

"Tess went to get some stuff for dinner," you finally offer, desperate to fill the silence between you.

Joel doesn't reply to this and you wonder if he heard you or is purposefully ignoring what you said. You come towards him with your hand outstretched for the books. 

"Thanks very much," you say, feeling as if your breath is stuck in your chest. "I'll get them back to you soon."

"No rush."

As you reach out your hand your eyes drift over to the bathroom door, your heart skipping a beat. Memories of Joel's frantically stroking hand over his cock assault you.

Joel seems to notice where your gaze has travelled because he straightens his spine, his dark eyes darting to your face. 

You aren't ready for the way his strong body presses you against the wall, pinning you there with his hips. The books fall from your hands and thud onto the wood floor below. Your hands are on his chest, holding him back.

"What are you doing?"

He doesn't reply with words. Instead his hands are fumbling with the buttons of your jeans. 

"No," you say, even as your eyes fall shut. Joel's mouth is trailing open mouthed kisses up your neck. 

"Yes."

You hold in a shuddering moan at his rasping singular word, sharp and huffed hot in your ear. 

You have the passing thought that this is almost the very spot he fucked your mouth. The very spot he changed you. 

But now this is the home he shares with Tess. Tess who has been nothing but kind to you. Tess who makes him smile. 

Your opened jeans are being pushed down and he's pressing his mouth to your neck, his tongue slipping out over your pulse point to taste you.

His wide palm is slipping down under the band of your panties. You know he's working quickly because neither of you know how long until Tess gets back. 

"Joel ---"

You let out a sharp whimper as one of his fingers breaches you, slipping over your clit and curling inside. Your hands go to his shoulders, gripping him there for balance. 

You can feel him watching you, his dark eyes fixed on your face as he feels how wet you already are. 

"We have to stop" you say in a sigh, even as his finger slides in and out of your dripping cunt. Joel moves his mouth to your neck as his fingers tease and slide. His hip is grinding against your thigh. 

"Can't."

He's added a second finger, stretching you. You bite his clothed shoulder, the pleasure making you feel boneless. 

Joel groans, his thumb curving around your clit and you see stars.

Stop it. Stop this.

"Joel," you gasp, your hand going to claw at his wrist. "You need to stop."

But he can't stop; he's so intent, so desperate. His shoulder dips and his fingers are curling, coaxing those desperate moans from you. His thumb taps your clit, circling and tapping again when he sees your quiver after the first. 

"I need to hear it," he repeats, his mouth pressing wet kisses to your jaw. "I need to hear you."

You want to ask him why. Why this crazy frenzy? Why can't he be content to having Tess and leaving you alone? He has everything and you have nothing. Why does he need more? 

You know why he's doing this. The show you put on for him in the window. The way he'd come after watching you get fucked by another man. A man who wasn't Joel. 

"We can't do this," you say, but it's for nothing. 

"You'll let that boy fuck you but not me?" Joel growls. Your entire back is arched and you're riding his hand shamelessly. You're eyes are half open, watching him wet his lower lip with his tongue. 

"We can't do this," you repeat. 

"We are," Joel grunts. 

You whimper as the orgasm slowly starts to approach. Your thighs begun to tremble, trapping his palm there as you ride his hand. 

"Look at me," Joel demands through shallow breaths. Your eyes are trying to focus on his face, on the parted mouth and lust-filled eyes. 

Lust you don't deserve. Lust you've taken.

Guilt overtakes you. You shake your head, trying to extricate yourself from his grip. Your jeans are still around your knees, stopping you from moving from him smoothly. 

"Let me go," you whisper, thinking he's understood as he withdraws his fingers. Instead he's using them to pull your panties down and release himself from his jeans. 

You see his hardened cock spring free, beautiful and sun kissed in color. The tip is rosy and straining towards you. You've seen it before, tasted it, but you know he has no intention of using your mouth right now. Joel looks down at his cock as his hand comes to hold it.

"Look what you do to me." 

You watch as with one wide hand he guides the head of his cock to your entrance, moving the tip to graze along your slit. Your brows knit together in painful pleasure. 

"It's wrong," you insist, slamming your eyes shut as you think of Tess. You shouldn't be allowing Joel to box you in against the wall. Shouldn't tremor in anticipation as he takes his cock in hand again and drags the weeping head against the seam of your cunt. 

"Just the tip," Joel murmurs against your ear. He's so convicting, so sweet as he suggests it. As if he's not asking for much. "Just a little bit. See how it feels."

You shake your head weakly. "We can't."

"Mhmm we can,"' he croons softly. 

Even as you sigh soft words of denial, your cunt leaks at the thought of him sheathing himself within you. His cock is gliding along the lips of your cunt, pressing up slightly. 

"We shouldn't."

"Just a little," Joel assures as the tip of him breaches you, twitching. You inhale sharply, the bulbous head of his cock stopping just barely past your entrance. 

Joel is watching you, moving his face back to see your reaction. When he sees the way your eyes are shuttering he smiles before pulling back out slowly. 

If you stop right now you think there is a chance you can salvage this moment. That you can live with the guilt because you stopped it from progressing too far.

But then Joel shuffles forward, pinning you to the wall tightly. It makes you breathless, tilting your head back in order to catch your breath. 

As you do this Joel is slotting himself between your thighs and you feel the head of his cock breaching you once more. 

"That's enough," you pant, trying to shake him from you. "You said just the t---"

"A little bit more," Joel reasons and you cry out as he slides into your cunt another inch before he stops, his forehead pressed against yours. "F-fuck. So good."

"No more, Joel," you beg in a whisper, even as your hips begin to shift for him. "We can't."

"Just a little longer," Joel tells you as he withdraws. 

Your hands are on his shoulders hoping to push him away, but there's no power in your limbs. Then he's inching himself in further, whispering against your temple when you try to close your legs. 

"Shhh shhh, just a little more. You can't expect me to stop when it feels this fucking good." He lets a soft groan out against your jaw when he pushes into you again. 

He slowly fucks you like this, braced between Joel and the wall in the home he shares with his girlfriend. He groans lowly in his throat each time he pulls out and then with aching slowness inches his way back inside you. He does this over and over until you are both shaking with need.  

You're too weak to stop this pleasured dance, you can't stop taking him inch by inch. You need him to be the one who stops you from yourself. 

“Please,” you beg.

"You can take it," Joel tells you in a soothing tone, brushing the hair out of your eyes.  He watches you grit your teeth, your eyebrows saddling as he drags his cock from your cunt. As you struggle in silence, his hips snap up, jolting you and you let out a sharp cry of pleasure. 

"Fucking knew it," Joel groans against your throat. "Knew you were fucking m-made to take my cock."

You want to stop. 

No, that's not accurate. 

You want to it to stop feeling so fucking good. 

He's pushing himself deeper into you and you scramble to find purchase.

"S-stop, Joel."

He stills inside you and he presses his forehead to yours before he withdraws sharply. 

"You really want me to stop?" he pants, his gaze locked on yours, as he waits for a response. "Tell me, pretty eyes."

Even as he says this he grinds himself in your inner thigh, leaving a smear.

You know he'll stop if you say so. He’ll be furious but he’ll stop.

Your palms are on his chest, but instead of pushing, you're winding your fingers in the flannel and holding because you feel empty, so painfully empty without him inside you. Your eyes meet his, blazing. 

"Don't stop."

A smile blooms over his normally stoic features and with an aching slowness he slips back into your cunt, moving deeply as you cry out, your arms wrapping around his neck and your hips thrusting against his.

"Oh that's my good--- Good fucking girl," Joel slurs slowly, languidly, drunk on your cunt. He bottoms out within you at an achingly slow pace, his forehead pressing against yours. 

My good girl.

His good girl. 

You feel pathetic for preening at the thought. Especially when you know it's not true. 

"That's my good--- girl taking me," Joel whispers against your mouth without actually kissing you. "Mmm -- Fuck. This ain't gonna be a onetime thing, baby. Not when you feel this good." 

You feel your nipples tighten at the acknowledgement that this won't be the last time he fucks you. Thoughts of fucking him all over Jackson city cause your hips to stutter. 

But then the guilt is back, etched in your features.

"Joel," you whisper even as your thighs part to better accommodate his cock. "Joel, we gotta stop."

He shakes his head. He urges your head down until your eyes go to where your bodies join.

"Look how good you are, for me" Joel whispers, forcing your gaze between your bodies. "Just look, baby."

With a small moan you watch him pull himself out of you completely, his thick cock soaked. It twitches eagerly, his lower abdomen taut before slipping back into you. 

"Keep watching," Joel encourages softly groaning when he withdraws again. He does this a few times, murmuring praise and filth as he encourages you to watch him. He pulls out of you gleaming with your slick coating him. 

"You see how much you want it?"

Joel has you clinging to him, your hips already shuffling to him, missing him inside you. He lets you press until the head is inside you, grazing your clit. 

"Uh huh," you whimper. 

"But you need it deeper, don't you?" Joel murmurs, bobbing his tip along the seam of your cunt. "You want me to stretch that pretty pussy wide."

You nod because you no longer have words.

"And I wanna give it to you," Joel says, the tip of his cock still teasing your clit by grazing it. "Wanna give you everything. But no more trying to stop me. No more pretending like you don't want this. 'cuz we both see how much you do."

You nod breathless, your eyes fixed on his. His voice is light but his eyes are intense. His cock is still curving against the lips of your cunt, grinding there. 

"You open your legs for me and you take all of my cock. You come for me," he says this all with the blunt focus of a man who knows exactly what he wants and how he wants it. "Then you get down on your knees and swallow my come while I fuck your mouth. Understood?" 

"Yes, Joel."

There's no hesitation in your voice, only desperate compliance. 

"You're gonna take everything I give you? You're gonna be good for me?"

"Yes, Joel."

It's all he wanted to hear. He smirks sedately widely before he shifts and positions himself at your entrance. He presses your right thigh back against the wall, opening you up lewdly. You're making small begging sounds as he lines himself up. He watches you without blinking before sliding up into your sex, his pelvis slamming into yours as he does. He's bottoming out, and because you're so fucking wet there is no resistance. And now, fully surrendered you relax and welcome him deep.

It's perfection. A blissful fullness that makes you moan long and low as your clit pulses. 

"Better than I imagined," he groans in your hair as he begins to thrust. "H-- fuck. Fuck, I knew it would feel good but .. f- Fuck this cunt is perfect."

You want to cry out that it's his cock that's perfect, but all you can do is feel. He's so thick and he fills you so perfectly. Joel is murmuring in your ear. 

"Fucked that boy in the window to make me jealous. But I know it was me you were thinking of. Wasn't it?" 

You nod, your body bouncing against his. He braces you. 

"He didn't make you wet like I do." 

"Nuh uh," you mumble, unable to sound articulate when Joel is fucking you like this. 

"Because this cunt is mine," Joel tells you plainly. "She was meant for my cock. Only my cock."

Your hips stutter when he says that, your abdomen quivering at his possessiveness. 

"You like that," Joel marvels and his hips increase in tempo. "You like hearing that she's mine."

"Joel," you whine both in need and in embarrassment. 

"It's okay pretty eyes," Joel chuckles. "It's okay."

You can't help but let out a sharp moan, covered in its infancy by Joel's wide hand because at that very moment the door swings open downstairs and Tess's voice reaches you both. 

"Joel, you still home?" 

Fear consumes you and you go to pull away from him but he keeps you still, cock warm and twitching within you. Your heart is clamoring at this, terrified at his reaction, horrified that you'll be caught. 

You consider your next moves. Will he help you escape out the window? Will he pretend he really was just giving you the books? Will you have to walk by Tess knowing her boyfriend was just inside you? 

But Joel doesn't seem as concerned as you. You realize belatedly that Joel doesn't seem to care about this turn of events at all. In fact it's the opposite. His pupils have blown wide and his hips stutter. 

"Be down in a minute," he calls gruffly, but his eyes are on you as he does. "Just finishing something up."

You try to pull away, but that only seems to excite him. He leans forward until his mouth is grazing your earlobe. 

"She's gonna hear you," Joel warns, his lips grazing against your cheek as his hips start to increase in tempo. "Gotta keep quiet."

Is he seriously considering fucking you against the wall when Tess is here? 

"She's right downstairs," you whisper barely audible. 

"Then you better be quiet," Joel orders softly. He's already started thrusting shallowly again. "Show me how quiet you can be, pretty eyes."

"I-- I can't . . ."

Without ceremony Joel thrusts back deeply into you deep, sealing his hand over your mouth. It's a good thing he does because you don't know you'd be able to be quiet. Not when his cock feels so good, not when his free hand slips between your bodies and his fingers find your clit. 

"Shhhh," Joel reminds you as your eyes roll back and the sounds from your throat explode into his palm. 

You're trying to keep calm, but the way he's playing with your clit as he fucks you against the wall is too much. Everything feels too much. 

"Don't pretend you don't love this," Joel whispers against your temple. "You mouth lies but your cunt doesn't." 

You hate the truth in what he says. That fucking Joel while Tess is downstairs oblivious makes you so turned on its hard to see straight. You want the illicit thrill of being caught to sicken you, not turn you on.

He moves his hand from your mouth, sliding it down until his wide palm is gripping your throat to hold you in place while he thrusts. 

"Taking me so ... Mmmm ... so well."

His eyes rove from your face to where you join and back again. The sight of holding you by the throat as he fucks you is turning him on, you can see that in the darkening of his eyes. 

"I'm scared," you reason quietly even as you guide his cock to your center after he withdraws. "What if someone ---"

"Don't care," Joel grunts as he thrusts up in earnest squeezing your throat as he thrusts. "Don't care if someone catches us. Need to fuck you."

You believe him. And yet you both remain as quiet as possible, your ears still straining to hear the sound of Tess cooking downstairs. 

"Come for me," Joel tells you, immune to the concept of fear. "I want you drownin' my cock."

"I can't," you whine so softly you're not sure he heard. "It's too much."

There is a small creak of floorboards underfoot and you stiffen. 

When Joel stills you feel a mixture of relief and overwhelming disappointment. You think this is when you both come to your senses. 

But Joel withdraws just so he can cup your sex possessively with one broad hand, the other still curled around your throat.  

"This is mine," he rasps lowly against the shell of your ear. "She gets wet for me when I say and she comes for me when I tell her to."

Fuck if that didn't go straight to your pussy. His tall frame looms above you, his dark eyes boring into you. He's still dressed above the waist and for some reason that makes him feel so much more intimidating. 

He waits, his brows raised until you manage a weak nod. 

His fingers begin at your clit again, teasing and coaxing. It feels so good you're having trouble remembering to be quiet, so you bite your lower lip to stop yourself. 

"There she is," Joel grins. His cock slides up into you again and it takes everything in your power not to faint against the wall. He feels so fucking good.

"See how good things can be when you just let go?"

You nod, your hands lacing behind his neck. And suddenly you can't stop kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Deep appreciation for the perfect way he fucks you overwhelms you.  

"You never have to worry," Joel assures you in a tone of soft honey, his lips pressing against your cheek. "I'll always make sure you come, pretty eyes."

"I know," you breathe against his jaw. "I wanna come for you, Joel."

"Course you do," Joel muses.

"I wanna make you feel good."

Joel whispers a sigh in your ear. "This perfect pussy makes me feel so fucking good."

"I wanna make you come, Joel."

His dimpled smile flashes at you. "Yeah?"

"Tell me how," you beg in a broken whisper. "I wanna know how to make you come the way you like."

"Fuck," Joel groans lowly, his eyes shuttering. His free hand covers your mouth again because you start whimpering again. 

You think he might remain silent because he starts to pump into you, reddened cock sliding out to graze your clit and then slamming back deeply into you.

"After you come then you're gonna get on your knees for me," Joel is gasping softly against your temple. "Just like that first time... I'm gonna fuck--- gonna fuck that sweet mouth."

"Yes," you whisper under his palm, your eyes glazed with lust. 

"And you're gonna take it," Joel's forehead is dotted with sweat. "You're gonna take it all. Because it's yours.. and when I come down your throat you're gonna thank me for it. You're gonna sit there like a good girl on your knees and thank me."

You're nodding like you're able to listen attentively, even as your brows knit together when his cock slams into you.

"Then you're gonna unlock that bedroom window so I can come and fuck you properly whenever I need to."

When your eyes crack open in surprise at this suggestion you see Joel's face is unguarded, his eyes shut and his head tilted back as he fucks you. It's that sight that causes you to come harshly. 

"Oh perfect -- so fucking good," Joel whispers praises in the shell of your ear as you come. "I can feel that.. So good. My good fucking girl knows whose cock to come on."

He follows immediately, launching his face in the crook of your neck as he releases himself within you. He empties himself into you, pulsing and thick and this shocks you. You give a shuddering breath before pushing him back from you harshly. The motion sends him back a step, his softening cock sliding from you. 

"What have you done?" you choke out in a whisper, horrified.  

It hits Joel belatedly, the realization that not only has he cheated on Tess but that he also didn't use a condom. His dark eyes widen and blink rapidly. 

"Fuck I-."

You don't listen to what he says next. Instead you scramble to pull up your panties and jeans, ignoring the sensation of Joel's seed running down your inner thighs. Terrified tears morph into shameful ones as Joel tucks himself away.

You want to scream, you want to cry, you want to do something that releases this terror and shame from your body. 

What the fuck have you done, the pair of you?

Instead you move to the window, throwing it open and crawling out without a backwards glance at him. You can only pray that Tess is too busy cooking to hear as you bound from Joel's roof to your own. 

You throw the window to your bedroom open, pulling yourself over the sill with a grunt. Feeling dazed you go into the tub and shower, scrubbing at your flesh until it's raw and red. 

Only after you feel your entire body has been scrubbed clean with the antibacterial soap from the commissary do you pull on fresh nightclothes. Despite your thorough washing it's like you can still smell him on your skin. 

You go to the window of your bedroom and see the blinds in Joel's home have been drawn. Before you crawl into bed and collapse into tears you stare at the quiet home across from you.

Then you lock your window. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #smut #joel miller smut #joel miller #fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal #dad joel miller #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #dirty talk

[cloudninetonine]

The Player and the Dollmaker

A/N: Hey guys! I'm sorry I haven't been as active for the past few months! Life and just general stuff got into the way, plus I've been feel extra anti-social :') But I'm gonna try and get back into the swing of things!!!

This story is based on my friend @next-hero-in-line's awesome new oc, the Dollmaker and by @batrogers's amazing fanfic based on said oc!! The Dollmaker for anyone who wishes to read it!

Warnings: Bad language (as usual to Player), blood/gore, temporary character death, reversed character death, hinted at a slighter darker Hyrule(?), also probably a lot of spelling mistakes I've been struggling with sleep lately piuhgfpiuf

Hyrule’s timeline was…something.

You were expecting it, truth be told, playing the very first Legend of Zelda game came with not only a huge reality check but the rude residents of the traveller’s Hyrule that had you close to tossing your device from the frustration of their snide remarks and coldness. With the troubles that brewed in the depths of the land, you couldn’t really blame the population- but there was no need to be snarled at for simply asking for directions.

“Mark my fucking words,” You growled, tugging at the material of your hood as you wondered through the village, monologuing to yourself like some crazed villain. “Mark them, goddesses, because trust if one of these nasty arse villagers sasses me again it’ll be between them and you.”

Yeah, you were not happy. Having to deal with the terrible crowds all day, your levels of cranky raised to the max and you were not about to deal with another one of these terrible people- even all the children were damn brats!!!

And to top it all off, it was raining, just perfect.

Huffing, you turned another corner, boots squelching against the mud of the (once) dirt path as you made your way back to the village outskirts, the camp resting deep within the crooked woodland that bordered the homes. You could catch the silhouettes of cloaked figures just by the bushes, speeding up your pace the slightest bit with your face relaxing from your raged scowl to a relieved smile.

Splitting up was not something you were fond of, especially in Hyrule’s land but with his flaming reputation with the locals that only further engulfed that of the Chain’s when they had first been seen in public with him would have been worse than just being seen as a weary traveller looking for some food and shelter. The stories of him being chased out of towns, to having rocks tossed his way and worse- you wanted to slam your fist into the nose of the first (definitely not) innocent bystander.

How could they treat their hero like this? Expendable? Like dirt beneath their boots? God, you hated it.

But, unfortunately, there wasn’t quite much you could do, was there?

You raised your hand, a yell at the tip of your tongue as you got closer to the cloaked heroes only for a sudden body to walk ahead of you, walking out from between the homes and right into your path- your yelp their only indication of their mistake as you bumped right into their side and had them near tumbling to the floor.

You were lucky this adventure had gifted you with faster reflexes.

“I’m sorry!” Your hand quickly grabbed their wrist, tugging them back up to a standing position before they could collapse into the mud. “I’m really sorry- are you okay?”

You caught bright blue eyes before anything else- well, eye, the other covered by her lucious, midnight purple locks- her hood did well to hide her features but that you could make out. Not many in Hyrule had quite striking attributes as she did and your mind rolled the many franchise characters in your mind in a curious search to see if she was familiar-

But no, you didn’t recognise her.

The woman blinked, studying you for the moment but her pretty pink lips stretched into a smile.

One you didn’t like.

“Hello.” She grinned with teeth as she once again looked you up and down. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You wretched your hand back like her skin was hot metal, keeping it protectively against your chest as you went to take a step back. “Pardon?”

“You were looking for health items in town.” She clarified, still smiling and still very disturbing before your eyes. “I have just the thing.”

Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home. Please don’t invite me back to your home- “Oh? And- uh, what’s that?”

Your heart skipped in relief when she dug into the back hanging from her shoulder, plump with her own items and quite loud as she rummaged through until she made a small sound of victory and then proceeded to produce a…a doll. Her eyes looked over it proudly, her eye sparkling with a glee that made your stomach churn in a nervous rut, watching as her nimble fingers quickly straightened out the little toy’s clothing before handing it over to you- all the while still grinning that same smile she had been for the past few moments (had she even breathed?).

“For you.” Her voice was near giddy but still laced with her eerily calm demeanour. “A good healing item.”

“Uhhh, how much…?"

She giggled, airy and light. “A ‘thank you’ will suffice.”

Common sense had always told you not to take things from strangers, especially creepy ones that emerged from dark alleys with smiles that read trouble, eyes like a predator’s that shone with a lust for violence and blood- but, with a quick glance to your companions still waiting just ahead you felt the need to hurry this exchange so that you could return and be rid of this whole damn day.

So, managing to force a grateful smile, you accepted the item. “Um, thank you.”

You held back a cringe when her smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

Your eyes fell to the doll in your hands and you felt the air harshly exit your lungs, mouth a slight gape as you caught the familiar stitched face staring back at you.

“This-” Your eyes raised to meet…nothing. Nada. Zilch. Body twirling frantically to search for the woman who had once stood before you, face still stricken in slight horror before you let out a breath from your nose. “Typical.”

Gently, your thumb ran over the careful thread of the doll, taking in the very obvious features of yourself: your cape, your tunic with it’s gold accents, your hair and the discolour buttons for eyes, stitching of blue running down its face to its stubby little arms and a smile to top it off. Yes, this was you indeed and you knew exactly what this was.

“One up…?” You muttered, feeling dread settle on your shoulders.

Why would you need a one-up?

Your hands shook, thoughts racing through your mind as you continued to stare down at the small doll with anxiety bubbling in your gut. Was this a warning? Your fate decided? Were- were you close to death? Or did this Dollmaker find of your existence and wish to merely meet you? You weren’t quite sure, uncertain if being left in the dark was better or worse about the future with this item-

A hand came to rest over yours and your eyes flew up, meeting the frightened ones of Hyrule. Eyes of brown clashed green stared back into your own, pupils pin pricked with a similar fear to your own before he let out a breath and pushed the doll to your chest, his voice a soft whisper.

“Put it away.” He gently squeezed over your knuckles. “Don’t think about it- I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Hyrule-”

“It’s okay, I promise you.” He managed to smile at you, not quite reassuring but soft nonetheless. “Nothing will happen.”

You looked at him with apprehension. “...Link, I’m scared.”

His face hardened, eyes shining with a determination that you had seen time and time again. “I will protect you.”

…You couldn’t fight his words, you knew from his tone he would keep him promise no matter what. You knew that look, you knew this man and you trusted him, you could leave your life in his hands and he would keep that promise in his heart until his very last days.

But just because he could keep a promise didn’t mean fate couldn’t take over.

You stuffed the doll into your bag and took his out-stretched hand, letting him lead you back to the cloaked Chain so you could all return to your temporary abode within the woods.

You felt the stare of eyes on your back the entire way.

----------

The past few days had been uneventful, save for the few black blooded and some more cruel Hylians of Hyrule’s homeland, everything had been pretty quiet and tame- yet you could still feel the unnerving tremble in your belly at every waking moment. Glancing around wildly, refusing to step away from the group, you don’t think you had even released Hyrule’s hand for those past few days, too afraid and too cowardly.

Even if the doll was in your possession, even if it brought you back- you would die.

You didn’t want to die out here.

But it seems, like you had expected, fate had decided to take that into its own hands.

It was Legend’s turn to watch for the night, sat in front of the flickering campfire with eyes focused on the surrounding trees and bush. His back was towards you when you woke, blinking away sleep and rubbing at your eyes when you felt the overwhelming need to use the toilet. Well, find a spot behind a tree, after all when was the last time you had seen a proper toilet? You shuddered at the thought.

“Where are you going?” The Veteran grunted, watching as you waddled through the sleeping bodies. 

“Toilet.” Your voice was hoarse with exhaustion, “Don’t worry I’m not gonna converse with the Shadow.”

The man huffed, poking at the fire with a stick. “Whatever.”

That was all you exchanged, carefully manoeuvring through the shrubbery to get a good distance away from the men. Not thinking, your mind still too seeped in sleep, forgetting the doll you had kept in a death grip these past few gruelling days as you hopped and shuffled to get to a sufficient spot to do your business then head back to camp. It didn’t occur to you that this may have been the moment fate needed, nor did you think about it being your last.

Done with your business, you took a few steps back towards the light in the short distance. Far enough that you couldn’t see Legend’s full features but close enough that you were still in sight, the hero had his head down towards the flames, not focused on you at all.

You sighed.

Then-

…You felt a burning.

Your whole body tensed- seized as the pain began to grow from a dull throb to a near rolling inferno, your breath suddenly ripped from your body as you felt the sensation of hot liquid begin to slowly bubble up your throat while you looked downed to the cause of the pain- a crossbow bolt punctured right through you, dirtied with red hot blood that idly drip, drip, dripped from the tip of the arrow right onto the dirt below.

Breathing only resulted in the blood to rise faster, tasting the copper in your mouth as you coughed and sullied your white tunic with maroon and felt your body sway as you felt your body quickly begin to lose it’s balance, your vision blurring with tears.

It must have caught your lung…were you drowning in your own blood?

You reached a hand out towards the camp.

“...Li-nk-”

You fell to your knees, then to your side, choking on more of the liquid.

----------

Hyrule awoke to a scream.

Loud and violent, his whole body jolted at the sound as he lept into a seated position with his sword pulled ready, eyes scanning the camp frantically for the threat he had expected.

Only to see nothing. Merely his brothers in spirit, jolted awake and alarmed similarly to him as they all glanced around and wondered about the sound that had woken them all from their slumber.

Hyrule’s hand moved towards your body.

And his stomach dropped when he didn’t feel you there.

“No…”

It was happening.

When the silhouette of Legend began rushing back into camp, bloodied and panicked the traveller knew already what had happened- he didn’t need to glance at the mass in the Veteran’s arms to know it was you, the bolt still protruding through your ribcage as the small blonde screamed for them all to do something- ready the potions, ready the fairies, anything. His hysterics would have been almost comical if the brunette didn’t feel like his world was crashing down around him as he watched your hand limply hang, unmoving.

“Oh dear Three-”

“Put them down, quickly!”

“We must remove the bolt!”

Hyrule pounced when his body finally snapped back into attention, rushing to your side like a bat out of hell when the blonde had carefully handed you towards the Captain and the Old Man- the soldier carefully snapping off the fletching of the arrow to slide the item out of your chest, the horrible bloodied squelch making the brunette’s stomach twist and churn in horror and fear.

He didn’t see Warrior’s fingers against your pulse, nor the slow head shake towards the horrified Time.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered gently, soothingly, as his hands glowed a familiar white.

“Traveller-” Warriors started.

“You’re going to be okay, I’m going to make it stop.” He pressed his hand over the wound, ignoring the blood blooming around his fingers and soaking them in red. “I know it hurts-”

“Traveller.” Time’s voice was firm, his hand landing on his shoulder. “Stop.”

Hyrule held back from decking the old man where he stood. “”WHAT?! NO!! Are you INSANE-”

“They’re already gone, Hyrule.”

Wild’s voice was…gentle. Gentle and pained as he kneeled next to the frozen hero, carefully moving his hands from the puncture wound to stop the man from further staining his hands in your blood. The Champion’s face was broken, ears down turned and eyes blank as he looked over your broken form- the spark that once danced in your eyes now gone with the gentle rhythm of your breaths.

Hyrule waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Your chest did not move.

Warriors hand gently ran over your eyes, closing the lids so that they no longer had to see the dead stare aimed towards the trees ahead. He moved to softly kiss your forehead after with an even softer apology.

“I…..I promised…” Hyrule muttered, eyes glazing over as tears began to blur his vision of your dead body, still warm to the touch. “I promised-”

“I’m sorry, brother.” Wild whispered, moving to hold Hyrule gently. “I’m sorry.”

The silence hanging over them all was heavy, save for the small sniffles and hiccups of the few. Twilight was trying to console a near uncontrollable Legend, bloody hands roughly grabbing the fur of his hide as he sobbed and choked on tears. Wind was turned into Four, the shorter man holding him close and away from the visceral scene. The rest were stock still, quiet and unsure of what to do, of what to say, as they continued to stare at your…corpse.

Warriors bowed his head. “We should give them a burial.”

“No-” Hyrule gasped, feeling both rage and a cold emptiness within him. “No, I- I need to-” “There isn’t anything else you can do, traveller.” Time’s voice was soft but firm. “Our only option is to bury them…and if we find our way back to their homeland, return their belongings to their mother.”

Hyrule perked up, head swivelling round towards your bag a little ways away.

Belongings…

The

Doll.

His heart surged and in a moment of pure adrenaline, he shoved Wild to the side and dived towards your rucksack, ignoring his brother’s grunt or the other yells.

“Link!”

The brunette grasped the thing frantically, near ripping the strange contraption you called a zipper as he rummaged messily through your back, tossing your things wildly as he looked for the wretched ‘gift’.

“Traveller, stop this!” The voice of Four called, trying to grab his arm. “What are you doing-”

Hyrule didn’t even feel remorse when he roughly shoved his elbow into the nose of the short hero and sent him flying onto his arse.

More yells of his name were heard but they were quite easily ignored when his eyes finally laid eyes on the doll of your likeness, aggressively snatching the carefully crafted toy with a desperation and anger he hadn’t felt for years. He turned back to scramble towards your body, the doll gripped in his hand like it was his lifeline only for Sky and Time to roughly grab his arms, their voices falling on deaf is as he wildly scratched and bit at them, trying to fight his way out.

“Release me!” He roared, catching Sky by the cheek and causing the Skyloftian to wince in pain. “Let me go! I can save them!”

“Enough of this, Link!” Time yelled, both desperate and firm, his own face riddled in anguish. “They are gone! Let them rest in peace!”

Hyrule’s heart thumped painfully in his chest at the thought of you dead, lost to him forever more before he pushed himself harder until he caught the arm of the Old Man and sunk his teeth into the skin, the Hero of Time crying out in pain and finally releasing him- Chosen quickly diving to aid the blonde as the traveller rushed to your side and pressed the doll against you.

“Do your job!!” He yelled into the night air, “Heal them! Bring them back!”

Wild and Warriors pinned him this time, Hyrule’s face pressed into the dirt with them both keeping his arms down to stop him from swiping or nipping at his brothers once again.

“That’s enough!” Warriors’ commanding voice bellowed, pushing Hyrule’s face further into the ground. “Calm down or else, traveller!”

Hyrule’s eyes bore tears once again, struggling once more with both pleas and threats falling from his mouth, merging into a mess of gibberish the further and further he spiralled into a wobbly heap of tears and sorrow beneath the other Links. This couldn’t be the end, the doll couldn’t be a dud- it was supposed to bring you back. You were supposed to be here! You weren’t dead! You couldn’t be dead! He didn’t want you dead! This had to be a nightmare, conjured by Ganon’s monsters to torture him and break him. You- You-

There was a popping sound behind them and heads snapped towards it.

“What was that?” Time asked, still nursing his bleeding bite mark. “Where did that come from?”

Wind’s eyes were wide. “The doll just…exploded?”

Hyrule’s breath stopped.

…

Just as yours returned.

Shaky and hoarse, your body moved with a violent inhale of breath, shaking from the strain and following with heavy coughs as you breathed like it was the first time, lungs born anew. The others watched in a curious shock as you continued to hack and heave, pushing your body up from the ground- the doll falling from your chest into the dirt below.

The toy's chest held a puncture, white wool stuffing blooming at the hole with a few stray curls falling into the dirt.

Hyrule sobbed in relief.

“(Name)!” Wind threw himself at you, arms wrapping around your neck tightly as he shoved his face into your shoulder. “You’re okay- You’re okay!!”

You continued to gasp for breath, the many men around you rushing to your side to aid your effort as Hyrule pushed himself to his hand and knees, smiling a wet and wobbly grin as he listened to you, alive, once more- returned to him from the realm of the dead. You were back, you came back and his heart swelled with a plethora of emotions that made his entire being shake.

Hyrule crawled over to you, frozen and still not sure of your own surroundings as his hands came to engulf your face, his eyes looking back into your own- glazed in confusion and lingering fear that made his heart squeeze in regret.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, “I am so sorry- I broke our promise.”

Your mouth opened then closed. Then opened and closed once again. Looking for the words to express the feelings behind your petrified gaze, your throats managing noise but that alone in an seemingly endless cycle of struggle and torment. Only when you whimpered, tearing up with a shaky sob did the man embrace you and hold close- careful to keep the bloody hands off you. He didn’t want you to see it.

The dolls never did quite clean up the mess.

----------

Hyrule trekked through his woodland, bumping through branches and harshly knocking away bushes as a man on a mission. Eyes narrowed with anger, the flickered with the flames of hell and rage as he stomped his way towards his destination.

“Where are you going?” Time had asked, watching the traveller pull on his cloak. “Don’t you think it unwise to leave when they just got to sleep?”

You laid in a comfortable heap in your sleep mat, wrapped in both your own blanket and the brunette’s, Wind and Wild laid comfortably beside you and Wolfie acting as your pillow. All were resting, vanished into the land of dreams with the many other men around camp. They were close too, like bodyguards they surrounded you afraid of what had already happened.

Time was left for watch and Hyrule took his opportunity.

“I have some business to deal with.” His voice was void of his usual softness, a growl of a predator with the malice near sharp as Ganon’s himself. “I’ll be back.”

Time narrowed his eye. “We will search for whoever did this in the morning.”

“That is not what I am doing.”

“Then what is? Tell me, traveller, what could you possibly be doing?”

Hyrule’s hand grabbed the doll, his hand tight enough to near pop its beady button eyes right from its wool skull.

Hyrule pulled his hood over his head.

“I will return soon.”

Hyrule ripped another branch from his face, eyes finally narrowing in on the large house in the distance. Like he had seen it once before, warped beyond comprehension yet still perceivable to his naked eye. It haunted his dreams now, echoes of a horrid encounter that shook him to the core and left invisible scars that still marred his soul-

She was there once again, the exact same spot as the time before, the exact same position, her arms crossed over her chest with a menial smile plastered over her lips that only grew as the Hero of Hyrule stepped out from the shadows of the trees, still tightly gripping the ruined doll within his grasp.

Despite her calm disposition, he could so clearly see the hunger in her eyes, even from his spot. “Did your friend like my gift?”

Hyrule’s hand twitched to his blade, hanging from his hip opposed to his back- easier and faster to draw. “I should kill you where you stand.”

The Dollmaker’s chuckle held a twisted humour like poking a sleeping, starved bear. “You should- but you won’t.”

Hyrule’s eye twitched. “What do you want with them? They have no power- no fighting capability or anything you could possibly want.”

“Ah,” She tapped her nose with the constant smile. “You will come to know. Or maybe you won’t, wouldn’t it be more fun to find out yourself?”

“Stay away from them.” He stepped up to her door’s steps, eyes manic in rage. “Leave them be.”

Her already massive smile grew.

The Dollmaker was not someone Hyrule liked to encounter. When her dolls appeared death usually followed, mostly his own, the many sawdust filled dummies gathering dust in the darkness in his bag as a constant reminder of what you had been through during his adventures. Sometimes he saw different ones, of faces he had only glimpsed at in towns or villages, but he saw them- he had seen one of her own long ago. Saw the damage dealt to it’s surface when he had the unfortunate chance of crossing into her shop looking for some magic items he was already lacking.

She liked to collect them; that was the idea he had conjured anyway.

Raising your doll high, he presented the damaged little soft toy towards her and saw how her pupils grew at the sight. While her hands were gentle to grab it she practically snatched it from his hands and cradled the thing close to her chest, gently caressing the spot where the hole had formed.

“Even a cursed doll, you handle them gentle.” Her comment made him huff, his arms crossing to hold back from doing something he regretted. “I showed them mercy, you know.”

Hyrule ground his teeth. “You think shooting them in the chest is mercy?”

“Compared to what else I could have done, yes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s only fair if I have my fun.”

The Hero turned his head away. “You’re sick.”

And the Dollmaker hummed. “I will return with another.”

She disappeared into the darkness of her house, footsteps gently fading off as Hyrule stood just below the doorway, pearing in and hoping to see the mystery of her disorted abode. No luck however, his eyes only soaked in the dark abyssal, his ears twitching at the sounds of creaking floorboards and groaning wood of the walls, focusing and focusing in a near trance until the sight of her eye peering through the darkness made him take a cautious step back.

When had he climbed the steps?

“Here.” She said, once again both calm and giddy as she presented the doll to him- another little you, with a stitched little smile like the last. “I hope they enjoy it.”

Hyrule carefully snatched the doll away before jogging down the steps and headed back towards the forest without another word.

“It didn’t feel right to use sawdust.” The brunette paused, slightly moving his head in indication that he was listening- not that it mattered. He knew she would continue on, even if he had trudged off. “I felt they needed something a little more…lively and I of course couldn’t brush off the idea of using the finest of sheep’s wool. I think it suited them much more, don’t you agree?”

…Hyrule kept walking.

#linked universe #lu #linked universe x reader #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #next hero in line #Squid #batrogers

[familyvideostevie]

𝕟𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣

a farmer's market steve harrington x reader au part 1 [7.2k] | part 2 [8.3k] | part 3 [13.3k] | part 4 [4.6k] | au masterlist

OCTOBER

The rain starts halfway through the first market of October. It comes without warning; a chilly Saturday with scattered clouds turns dark and the bite in the air seeps into your bones. The crowd thins in a matter of minutes despite the promise of a market rain or shine, since a summer rain can be something free and spontaneous. A fall rain is bound to end in a cold.

"Do you need help?" Joyce asks. It's barely started to drizzle but you can see the dark drops marking her jacket. "I think we can close early. Jonathan is almost done with the flowers, I'll send him over here --"

"No, I'm okay," you tell her. You shove candles and jars of honey into your crates with as much care as you can spare. The pickup is just around the corner and you can load everything yourself even if your back will feel it later. "Really, I'm sure other people can use the help more!" Joyce tuts but runs off. As soon as she does the rain picks up. You can feel it spray onto your face from the wind, feel it soak into the wool sweater you're wearing.

"Eddie --" you say, about to wave him off, but he picks up the other full crate at your feet.

"Keep packing or someone much meaner than me will come over to help you," he says, winking. "I'll put this in the New-Bee's pickup on my way out, okay?" He's off before you can get in a word of protest.

You decide to tackle the rest of the stock before bringing out another crate but your hands are shaking so much from the cold and your skin is wet and everything is wet and you're worried you're going to drop something. You manage to pack one more and are debating whether or not to bring it to the truck when you hear heavy footfalls in the rain behind you.

"I'm fine," you yell over the rain. There's no response so you turn and the sight punches a hole in your chest: it's Steve. He's soaked to the bone, just like you, but he looks like...like...well. His own sweater and flannel combo are weighed down with water and his jeans are a shade darker than usual. You feel a little warmer than you did a second ago.

He jerks his chin up in greeting and he reaches forward to gently grab your elbow. "We gotta go," he says. "I think there's gonna be lightning soon. And you're soaked." He takes in your chattering teeth and the crates around you like he's doing a calculation in his head.

"I gotta get the stock --" His palm is so warm even through your dripping sweater that you have to keep yourself from leaning into him.

He tugs on you gently. "Leave it."

"Steve, I made this stuff." The plea is pathetic in your ears and you wonder if he'll make fun of you for it. You really hope not, since you've been turning over what Dustin said to you for days and it's fair to say that Steve Harrington is a puzzle you want to figure out. If he lets you.

The warm hand on your elbow disappears and you expect him to storm off but he just scoops up the third crate you've finished filling and heads for the truck.

"Gee, thanks," you mutter, squatting to grab the stacks of candles for the last crate. You're really shaking now but you're trying to move fast, so when a peal of thunder finally tears through the air you're startled enough to drop one of the glass jars. It shatters and the candle wax inside rolls away.

You don't think as you start to pick up the shards of glass with your bare hands, don't consider that maybe it's a bad idea until you slice your palm with one.

"Shit!" you yell, staring helplessly as a thin line of blood wells and drips down your skin. It doesn't look deep but it hurts. A warm hand on your back almost sends you careening forward into your mess but another on your shoulder steadies you.

"Woah, what the fuck happened here?" Steve asks, harsh tone at odds with how he's touching you as he crouches down to examine the glass.

You are humiliated to feel tears gathering and your throat getting tight. "The thunder, I --. It startled me and I--"

"Are you bleeding?" He hauls you up and a few steps away from the glass before you can answer. Your hold your injured palm out in front of you like it'll bite but Steve is quick to grab your wrist gently when he notices you shaking. You sniffle and his eyes meet yours for just a second.

"Hey," he says so softly you can barely hear him over the rain. "Hey, it's fine. Lemme just --" He digs in his back pocket with his free hand before he produces a blue bandana.

"That better be clean," you grind out, hoping to regain control of the situation, but the words are thick in your throat. As it is, you feel entirely too caught up in Steve's orbit, in the warmth of his touch and the kindness in his gaze. He smirks as he wraps the cloth around your hand, tying it tight enough that it won't come off. You hiss and he winces.

"Sorry," he whispers. He clears his throat and releases you. "Just this left?" He taps the side of the last crate with his foot. You nod. Steve makes quick work of the rest of your stock before he picks it up and heads out into the rain. You glance at the glass you're leaving behind before heading after him. The rain is coming down harder and lightning flashes before another crack of thunder makes you jump again.

"Told you!" Steve shouts, tucking the tarp over the back for the last time before you both clamber into the front seats. The rain pounds on the roof and the windshield and you're both panting so hard the window starts to fog. Steve is shivering though trying to hide it, jaw clenched as he runs his hands through his sopping hair. You turn the truck on and blast the heat.

"Where's your car?" you ask. Your voice sounds louder now that it's just the two of you.

"Robin drove today." He angles one of the vents towards you. "She uh, took all the stuff back already."

"So you're stuck here?" You can't believe that she'd leave him on accident or even on purpose.

He shrugs. A drop of rain travels down this column of this throat and you swallow. "You needed help." He says it like it's obvious. Like you should expect him to stay through a storm just to be at your side.

"Okay," you say. "I'll-- I"ll drive you home." Steve looks at you like he's seconds away from laughing in your face.

"With that hand?" All at once the pain rushes back, the steady throb of the cut on your palm taking over. The bandana is as soaked as the rest of you so you can’t tell if you’re bleeding through it. "I don't think so," he snorts.

"Steve." It's the softest you've ever said his name and he all but flinches. "I don't want to fight with you."

"I--we're not fighting," he argues, then catches himself. "I don't want to fight with you either. So I'll ask nicely." He clasps his hands like a boy in church. "Please, oh please, will you let me drive?"

Part of you wants to refuse just to be difficult – and because you totally can drive one handed. But you decide right now, in the cab of your truck as it pours, to try with Steve, and maybe this is what trying looks like. Because he stayed in the rain to help you. Because you’re tired of convincing yourself you don’t want to like him. And well, because your hand really does hurt. "Fine," you sigh. "But I'm not going back out there." Stubborn to the last, your dad always says.

"I'll go over you," Steve says quickly. The cab of the pickup is big for Steve to barely brush your thighs as he hauls himself into the driver's seat but you're so close for just a few seconds that you feel your breath hitch. He's dripping wet like you are but you swear that you can feel the warmth that seems to emanate from him through the fabric.

"Does New-Bee's have a first aid kit? Or do you want to go to the hospital?" He adjusts the seat a little and pulls out of the parking lot in to deserted downtown Hawkins.

"Bob has one," you say. "I think that'll be fine." Would he actually drive you to the hospital if you wanted to go? Something tells you that he'd stay with you the whole time, too. It makes you shiver.

Steve eyes you. "Shouldn't take too long," he says. "Gotta drive a little slower in the rain." The thunder rumbles but it sounds far away now. He hits a bump and your hand smacks your own knee and you hiss.

"Green or red apples?" Steve asks suddenly.

"What?" He repeats the question. "Uh...green," you say. He nods.

"Same. Cats or dogs?"

"Both. Steve, why are you asking--"

"Really? You like cats? They're monsters, I swear. Get scratched every time I go near one." The questions continue. Tulips or daisies? Night or day? Sunrise or sunset? He seems delighted that you're playing along with his game, willing to tell him even small tidbits about yourself. You're both only children, both like morning, both hate spinach. He likes sunrises but you like sunsets, and he actually yells in outrage when you say you "can't stand ice cream."

"I always get a brain freeze!" He's waving his hand in the air like he's searching for the words.

"You're just eating it wrong, or something. Who doesn't like ice cream?" You laugh, the pain in your hand forgotten for the moment. Oh, you think. He's distracting you.

Steve pulls into New-Bee's and Bob's truck is missing. He must be out somewhere, maybe caught by the storm which is still raging, rain steady though not dangerous anymore.

"You're coming in, right?" you ask. He nods, once again running a hand through drying hair that's about to get wet again as if it’s a nervous habit. Maybe it is. But you don’t know why he’d be nervous.

"Ready?" He turns the car off and braces a hand on the door. "We can get the stuff later." You nod and he counts down on his fingers before you fling yourselves into the downpour, running towards the wide farmhouse covered porch. The cold is a shock and Steve grabs you mid-gasp, your uninjured hand in his as he hauls you up the steps and out of the rain. Your fingers feel frozen in his but you don't let go.

You start to laugh. Water pools at your feet and you're cold and your hand hurts and Steve is looking at you like you've lost your mind. But you laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

"What's so funny, honey?" Steve asks, incredulous. The nickname only makes you snort and laugh harder. It sounded so sour coming from him just last week and now it's sweet, now he's grinning at the noise you're making. "Besides, me, clearly," he adds before he starts laughing too. It occurs to you that this might be flirting.

"Steve," you gasp between laughs, "you hate me." He stops laughing but you keep going until you smack your hand on your knee again, and this time it hurts so much it brings tears to your eyes immedietly. Steve hisses like he's the one who's hurting.

"I don't hate you," he says, almost as an afterthought. "Can I see your hand, please?" You hold it out without hesitation. Something has changed between you but you can't exactly pinpoint what or when -- just that now you're offering yourself to him easy as anything.

This time his touch burns, callused fingertips and wide palms overwhelming as one gently unties the bandana and cradles your palm. He whistles long and low. He pulls it gently to his face and you bite your lip because it has been so long since someone touched you like this, with care, with attention.

"I want to see it under some light but I don't think there's any glass in it. And it's not deep enough for stitches. And it’s only bleeding a little bit." He’s rambling.

"Do you do this a lot?" you ask.

He's still looking at your hand but manages some sarcasm. "What, play doctor?"

You flush. Definetly flirting. "Steve."

"Nah," he sighs, letting you go. You shiver again. "I've seen lots of small injuries working at Sara's for so long. Let's go inside, okay?"

The front door is unlocked as usual and as soon as it smacks closed behind you the rain starts to pound harder. "Can I drive you back when it calms down?" you ask him as you tug off your soaked boots.

"Sss-ure." Steve fails to hide his shiver. "Where's the first-aid kit?" You wave for him to follow you to the upstairs bathroom.

"I bet I have some stuff you can change into, if you want." He's going to get sick if he stands around in his soaked clothes much longer.

"Hand first."

"I can do it myself, Steve," you say over your shoulder on the stairs.

He smirks. "I'm sure you can."

The bathroom is big enough that you can both stand in front of the sink, the first-aid kit open on the counter next to you. You allow Steve to examine your palm in the dull light, keeping your eyes on the ceiling. Something tells you that looking at him or your hand might not be such a good idea right now.

"I'm just not as good with new people as I thought," he says, picking up on the abandoned conversation from the porch. He rubs an alcohol wipe along your cut and you scrunch up your nose, eyes pricking. You don't want him to see you almost cry again. "There hasn't been anyone new here in a long time. So I just... we got off on the wrong foot." You don't say anything. You feel him start to wrap the gauze and deem it safe to look down.

"I don't hate you," he repeats, eyes on your hand. "That's what I'm saying."

"I don't hate you either," you say softly. Steve looks at you then, eyes warm and hair damp, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin.

"Fooled me." He secures your bandage with a satisfied hum. "You said something about dry clothes?"

He follows you down the hall to your bedroom. Steve doesn't comment on the bare of your walls, the way your suitcases are out as if you're going to use them at any second. His eyes linger on the numerous candles on your vanity. The bottom drawer of your dresser is full of New-Bee's branded clothing that Bob has given you, soft things you've taken to sleeping in. A pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt should work, and you hand them to him.

"Thanks." He turns on his heel to return to the bathroom.

"Bring me your wet stuff and I'll throw it in the dryer!" you call after him before stripping out of your own soaked clothes, the damp denim of your jeans making a wet sound on the floor. Soft pants and a favorite hoodie fill you with welcome warmth as the rain continues to thud on the glass panes of your windows. You almost run into Steve in the hallway on your way to the closet with the dryer and you have to swallow a lump in your throat at the sight of him.

He's --. Well, he's in your clothes, barefoot in your hallway. To see him this way feels intimate in a way you don't know how to handle and it makes your heart do something funny in your chest.

"These are comfy," he says. His hair is a mess and you're staring and for some reason his cheeks are pink.

"You can have them," you tell him without thinking. Oh god, you think. Where did that come from? "I can get more from Bob, anyway." You pull open the washing closet and he throws his stuff in the dryer alongside yours. Your traitorous brain wonders if he's still wearing his underwear.

"Well, now what?" He looks at you through damp bangs, arms crossed. He looks softer than you ever thought him capable of being.

"This will take like, half an hour maybe? So I guess you have to hang out with me until then." He groans and you swat his arm, the venom from your first meeting nowhere to be found. Steve heads back towards your bedroom as you finish setting the dryer and you find him sniffing some of the glass jars he'd been eyeing earlier.

"These smell great," he tells you, eyes fluttering as he inhales one labeled evergreen/lavender. "You made 'em?"

"Yeah." You sit down on the edge of your bed. "Test batches for new scents."

"Still burning your fingers?" He looks at your hands, one bandaged by his own and the other curling into your blankets. You shake your head, remembering how he'd come to talk to you at the market, how his gaze had darkened when he noticed your fingers.

"What were you going to ask me last week?" you ask. He sets down the candle and straddles your vanity chair so that he's facing you.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, well." Maybe he doesn't remember. "I just-- before those kids of yours showed up, you were going to ask me something."

"You remember that?"

"I pay attention." The to you goes unsaid but seems to float in the air between you nonetheless.

"Oh," Steve says. He crosses his arms on top of the chair and sets his chin on them. "I was going to ask you to uh, hang out? But looks like that is happening right now."

"Really?"

"Don't sound so excited," he grumbles. You roll your eyes. "Uh, Nancy is gonna be in town this week and we're gonna have a Friday night...thing. By the lake."

"Steve," you say. You feel warm, warmer than you have all day. Because he wants to hang out, wants to be friends. And he has, maybe this whole time. "I don't know who Nancy is."

"She's Mike's -- the tall kid you met -- older sister. Jonathan's girlfriend. She's at school but she's coming back for her little sister's birthday. Holly, she's a real sweetheart--"

"Okay," you say.

"Okay?" he parrots. "You don't even want to know who will be there?"

"Careful, Steve. It sounds like you don't want me to come after all." He laughs.

"No, no, I want you to come. Now can I ask you something?" You nod, crossing your legs and his eyes follow your movements. "What did Brenda say to you? A few weeks ago, before we, uh...fought again."

It seems to be a day of catching each other off guard. "Does it matter what she said?" He taps his fingers in a random pattern on your chair.

"I just wanna know." His eyes are dark, his expression guarded. You can feel the walls you've only just broken down start to rebuild and you're desperate to keep them at bay. But you don't want to lie to him. Not while he's in your bedroom in your clothes after the day you've had together.

"She...she told me to be wary of you." His eyebrows raise and his jaw tightens. "She said you uh, broke a lot of hearts in high school."

"Why did she say that to you?" Now that is a truth you are not going to tell him. That she caught you staring.

"Dunno," you mutter.

"Is that why?" he asks. "Why we didn't get along? Why you were so mad that day?" How can you tell him it's because he makes your brain fuzzy, because you were hurt that he judged you so fast? That you did the exact same thing to him?

"I don't--. No." You rub your face with one hand. "Steve, I don't even know her. I don't know why she said that to me--"

"It's true," he interrupts. "I was an asshole back then. I guess I still am," he adds. "I guess I haven't changed a ton, based on how I was to you. How I am to you." He snorts and it's a harsh sound.

"Steve," you begin. "Steve, look, you said it yourself. We got off on the wrong foot and I was as much a part of that as you --"

"You don't have to defend me. You have no reason to." Why does it feel like this is turning into a fight? “That’s just my story, I guess. And everyone knows it.”

"I don't think I understand --"

The dryer beeps and he's out of your room in a flash. How have you lost track of the conversation so quickly?

"Steve," you say. "Steve, wait a second." He's in the hallway pulling his clothes out and shoving them into a paper bag he's found on the shelf. He won't look at you.

"I think I better just go. I don't...I don't want to fight again." The rain has all but stopped without your noticing.

"Then don't fight with me! Steve, come on, I'll drive you. It's bound to rain again and you'll get sick. This is a stupid idea!"

"Yeah, well," he mutters. "That's never stopped me before. See you later. Uh, thanks." He holds up the paper bag with his dry clothes as he shoves his bare feet into his boots. And then he's out the door.

"What the fuck just happened?" you say out loud to yourself in the empty kitchen.

____

It's frustration and embarrassment that keeps you from chasing after Steve. From going to see him at Sara's that night and on Sunday. You spend the rest of the weekend furiously making candles only to realize you've just made batch after batch of the one Steve picked up in your room -- an evergreen and lavender scent. Your hand doesn't hurt anymore, the cut already healing into a thin scabbed line underneath the bandaids you keep on it.

"Not that I'm complaining," Bob says when you bring the finished jars into the farmhouse on Monday morning. "But what's the fixation on this candle? You've made enough for three farmer's markets at least."

"Bob," you sigh. "I think I messed up but I don't know why." You and Bob talk most days when you run into each other in the house, but you hardly speak to him about non-farm matters. And yet, who else do you have to turn to? You don't think you can call anyone to talk about Steve, since everyone knows him, and you feel silly about the whole situation as is.

"And candles are going to fix it?" he teases. You groan and he claps you on the back gently. "Listen, kiddo. I know you've had a rough go of it and that Hawkins might not have sold you yet. But you're finding your way. And I know that you've made quite the impression on a few folks already." He picks up one of the candles you're labeling and smells it. "How about you take some of these over to Sara's? Give 'em a few and see if Hop wants to put some up in the store on the property."

Your boss eyes you as you feel your cheeks heat and you shift from foot to foot. "Sure, Bob," you tell him. You realize you have no idea what Steve does during the week, let alone on a Monday. It's time to find out.

You rehearse an apology on the drive to Sara's Farm. "What do I have to apologize for?" you mutter as you the truck bumps down the long drive. But urge to get back the Steve that padded around your room barefoot in borrowed clothes is stronger than your stubbornness. The property itself is huge -- much bigger than New Bee's. There are multiple barns that look well-built and maintained along one side of the fields and on the other you see a variety of livestock grazing. A bright blue chicken coop is next to the small farm store and the farm house sits charmingly in front of what looks to be rows and rows of trees. You wonder where Steve lives.

The farm store is empty of customers on a Monday morning but it's full of beautiful produce and goods: bags of apples of all colors, cherries, and sunflowers. Root vegetables and fresh eggs sit next to baked goods you have a feeling El is responsible for. There are t-shirts and hand-painted canvas bags and flower arrangements with the Byers Flowers tag on them. At the register sits a man you've never met but know on sight -- Jim Hopper. Former police chief, current farmer and collector of wayward individuals, if you've got the story right. That's how Steve ended up here, anyway.

"Uh, hi?" you say. Hopper looks up from a tattered paperback but he doesn’t spook.

"Hello," he drawls. "You here from Bob's place?" He jerks his chin at the New-Bee's bag you're carrying full of your candles.

"I--yeah." You introduce yourself and he sucks on his teeth and stands, gesturing for the bag.

"You're the new girl Harrington talks about," he says. "I'm Hop. Welcome to Hawkins." Your brain is trying to make sense of what he's saying. Steve...talks about you? It's not that strange considering you have been a massive pain in his ass on purpose but still.

"I've been here almost a month," you blurt out. Hopper looks at you over the candle he's smelling. It's a look that says: I know what you’re really here for.

"Belated welcome, then," he says. "You make these?" You nod. "They smell great. I'll call Bob and tell him we'll stock 'em."

You look at your shoes as if they're suddenly very interesting. "Is uh, Steve here?" Hopper sighs and wipes a hand across his face as he mutters something that sounds like damn kids.

"Not today," he replies but offers no details. Your fists clench in your pockets because something about this feels rehearsed. "Hey," Hopper says and you look up. "Maybe if you bring some more candles tomorrow he'll be here."

But when you return the next day with a full crate of candles you find El and the boy you remember as Mike sitting behind the counter. El grins when she sees you and calls out your name. Mike whispers something in her ear.

"Hi El, Mike. Where can I put this?" Mike hurries around the counter to take it from you. There's a clear set of shelves right by the register that he starts to fill.

El rests her head in her hands and smiles at you. "Dad said you'd come by today. That color is really pretty on you." You're wearing a deep green sweater under a denim jacket.

You wink at her and she giggles. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"Parent-teacher conferences," Mike says. "Hop's there so we get to run the store today." He carefully lines up all the candles so the labels face outwards. El watches his every movement.

"Are your other friends here?" A screech from outside floats in through the open window followed by what sounds like Max's laughter.

"They're supposed to be collecting eggs," El says. "But the rooster doesn't like Dustin very much."

"And, uh..." You examine a jar of strawberry jam. "Is Steve here? Your dad said he might be." Her eyes are soft as she chews on her response and tucks her hair behind her ears.

"He told me to tell you that he's not here," she says. Mike looks at her with fond exasperation.

"El, I don't think we were supposed to say it like that."

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Steve is being silly and Max and I won't be a part of it. So be glad she's outside because she'd be less nice than me." She looks at you, mouth twisted in a grimace. "I don't know where he is today but if you come back tomorrow maybe you'll catch him."

"Great," you mutter. "He's avoiding me." You blow a raspberry to keep your frustration at bay. "Here's some free life advice, Mike." He looks at you warily. "Don't avoid girls. They'll find you." He sputters and El cackles.

And you fully intend to catch Steve sooner rather than later because this is getting ridiculous. Wednesday morning finds you driving over to Sara's yet again. No candles this time, but you have a plan: search every inch of the damn property for this ridiculous boy and make him talk to you. Because you don't want all of this to be for nothing -- the thing between you that changed from something cold and hurtful to something that made you look forward to seeing him. That, and you want to go the hang-out on Friday without things being awkward.

You bypass the store completely and head for the orchard. It's a bitter cold day, the first one in a while, and you should have worn gloves. As it is you're shivering in your jeans and long-sleeve layered under a the same sweater as yesterday and a flannel and a jacket. The tip of your nose feels like Jack Frost himself blew on it and you're rubbing it when you almost crash into someone popping out of a row of apple trees.

"Hey!" says Robin, arms reaching out to steady you. "You okay?" She looks as cold as you but she's smart enough to be wearing a beanie. You haven't seen her recently, haven't talked to her one-on-one since your first meeting in the library. You wonder if Steve told her what happened.

"Wasn't watching where I was going, sorry." You sigh but Robin's friendly energy tamps down your frustration. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know," she sing-songs. "No classes today, so I'm here to help a bit with apple picking. If you want advice on the best varietals right now I'm your girl. Hopper made us memorize an entire list this year. I think I know more about apples than I ever wanted to." She digs into her cargo pants pocket and pulls out a huge red fruit. "Good breakfast though!" The crunch of her bite makes you smile and she tries to say something through a mouthful of fruit.

"Robin, don't choke!" She rolls her eyes and makes a show of chewing before trying again.

"Are you coming on Friday night?" she asks. "Nancy is psyched to meet you and Eddie won't stop bothering me about hanging out with you and Steve --" She groans like his very name is a chore to say. "Well, I bet you're here to see Steve, right?"

You chew on your lip before responding. "Did he tell you what happened?"

"Sounds like a classic case of Steve getting stuck in his own head and being a jerk. But that's just my opinion." Robin rocks back and forth on her heels and takes another bight of the apple.

"I wanted to apologize but I don't really know what I'm apologizing for," you admit. "I think we were about to become friends."

She hums. "Well, he's in the orchard a few rows that way." She points in the direction you were heading. "Just listen for the radio playing Springsteen really loudly. And please, please come on Friday." She pulls you in for a hug so quick you don't get the chance to return it and darts off back towards the farm store. You listen hard and hear some music in the distance so you head towards it, you cold hands shoved in your pockets.

"I'm dyin' for some action," a voice carries over the orchard. "Sick of sittin' round here tryin' to write this book." You quicken your pace along the openings in the rows of trees, head craned to glance down each one in search of Steve. "I need a love reaction," he sings and you try very hard to keep a hold on your frustration. "Come on now, baby, give me just one look---"

It gets harder when you find him at the top of a ladder. The radio is loud from its place in the dirt and he's pulling apples from the top of a tree and tossing them into a cloth bag. Stock for the farm store, you guess. You're content to watch him, drinking your fill after a few days without a glance. The realization that you missed him is a sudden one that has you rubbing at your chest. But its not the ache that you’re so used to – it’s something entirely different. What is this boy doing to you?

As if he hears you thinking, Steve turns over his shoulder mid-singing and spots you. His eyes widen and his cheeks color even more -- he's already flushed from the cold and his efforts -- and he starts down the ladder. "Bee girl," he calls. "Fancy seeing you here." He skips the last few rungs and hops onto the ground to turn the radio down. You realize that he's wearing overalls over a soft green sweater that matches your own. He's not wearing gloves either and his ears are pink and you want to touch him and -- wait, what?

"You've been avoiding me, Steve," you say, your heart beating entirely too fast.

"How's your hand?" he asks. "You keeping it clean?" You hold up your palm so he can see the bandaids there.

"It's fine. Steve, I said you're been avoiding me--"

"Yeah," he admits. "I'm sorry."

"I-- what? Really?" You've come ready to argue again, ready to stand your ground and tell him he's been unfair.

"Really. Did you...not expect me to apologize?" He frowns. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just got in my head about stupid stuff. About the way other people think of me, all that shit." He digs his hands into his overall pockets. "And I took it out on you. So, I'm sorry. I uh, I won't do it again. I swear."

"Oh," you breathe. "Well, then." You laugh a little and Steve smiles hesitantly. "I was ready to fight. Tell you to stop being such a stubborn asshole and talk to me." He grimaces.

"I was embarrassed, actually," he says. "I mean, a girl from high school tells you the truth and I get shitty about it? Not a good look." He takes a casual step towards you to inspect a branch of the tree you're standing by. "I just feel like you're getting all the worst parts of me."

You snort. In the days you've spend thinking about him, you know that's not true. He's stubborn and he's quick to defend and he's possessive. Steve is all of that, but he's also funny and kind and helpful and loyal. You'd be silly not to admit that to yourself. You hope he can see those things, too. "I want to be your friend, Steve," you tell him. His head snaps up to look at you. His eyes are warm and the corner of his mouth curls up.

"I want to be your friend, too," he says softly. A cool wind rushes down the row of trees and his ladder shakes. "Is that safe?" you ask, shivering a little.

"Yeah, it's better when I'm on it, actually --" He notices you shake. "You're cold." He steps forward to rub his hands up and down your arms. When he catches your fingers he hisses. "You gotta wear gloves, honey," he says. The nickname seems to slip out without his notice. It sounds different than when he said it in jest on your porch. It's sweeter than you imagined it would be now that he seems to mean it, almost sweeter than you can handle. "You should go back to the store and make Wheeler give you some free cider."

"Do you want to come?" you ask. Just minutes ago you were ready to fight with him and now you don't want him to stop touching you, stop being near you. This boy is giving you whiplash.

"I gotta keep going out here or Hop will feed me to the chickens." He looks almost pained to send you off alone. "But I'll see you Friday? Are you okay with Eddie picking you up?"

You nod. "Yeah. I'll be there." You eye the ladder again. "Be careful, Steve. I don't need my new friend falling out of a tree!" His laugh warms you all the way to your toes.

__

Time passes impossibly slowly for the rest of the week. But then it's 7 pm and you're waiting for Eddie to pick you up and you're excited. Over a month in this town and you're finally feeling like you've got your feet under you -- you've got friends and they want to hang out with you and you're making things you’re proud of and you feel good. The night is chilly and you're sure to shove a hat and gloves in your bag along with some marshmallows.

A car honks and you almost trip over yourself on the way out the door. Eddie sits in a van that looks like it's on its last legs. You can hear the music blasting but he turns it down as you climb in.

"It smells like mushrooms in here," you say. He laughs and backs out of the New-Bee drive.

"Usually smells like weed." He winks at you. "I think the 'shrooms smell better. Earthy, ya know?"

"Whatever you say." You're about to start basic small talk when he clicks his tongue loudly.

"So, you and Harrington, huh?" he asks. You try to keep your expression neutral but your eyebrows lose the battle and raise to your hairline.

"Me and Harrington, what, Eddie?"

"I don't know sweetheart, you tell me."

You fiddle with the heat nob. "He's not that bad, I guess." Eddie laughs again. He's a joyful dude.

"Told you so," he sings. "Glad you came around, or I think he'd have blown a gasket starting at you all the time." You look out the window. It feels like things have gone from zero to 100 in the span of a week. Loathing for Steve turned to frustration turned to something warmer, something softer. You want to know him. You want to understand him and to talk to him and to figure out what makes him tick. And you want him to know you.

Eddie spares you more talk of Steve and instead regales you with stories of his band and his odd boss at the mushroom farm, Rick. You deduce that in addition to selling mushrooms legally and weed a little less so, Eddie is perhaps the sweetest, strangest boy you've ever met.

The lake, Lover's Lake, you remember, is dark and you have to walk down a small bluff to get to the bonfire. Steve doesn't seem to be there yet but Robin, Jonathan, and a girl you assume is Nancy all cheer when you arrive.

"There she is!" Robin cries. You pull out the marshmallows. "And she brings snacks!"

"Steve should have the graham crackers and chocolate when he gets here," Jonathan says. "Glad you made it."

"I'm Nancy," the girl next to him says. She's bundled in an Emerson sweatshirt and a jacket you've seen Jonathan wear before. "It's so good to meet the one who seems to be looking after these guys when I'm not around." She pats the spot next to her and you settle in between her and Robin.

"Oh, I don't know about that," you say. "I'm just the new girl in town."

"The new girl in town that we are obsessed with!" Robin adds. "She's great, Nance. An expert in bees already, too. The candles she makes are beautiful." You're starting to feel like a product Robin is trying to sell.

"It's true," Jonathan says. "The kids love her, too."

"Kids," Nancy scoffs. "Mike drove us here, Jonathan. They're hardly kids anymore."

"Your brother is sweet," you say. "And Steve said it's your sister's birthday? I hope you're having fun being home for that." Nancy smiles softly and leans into Jonathan. The easy affection between them makes your chest ache.

"I always love coming home," she tells you. "Hawkins is a special place full of special people." Her smile turns to a smirk. "Though I've heard you've become well acquainted with one of them."

Eddie snorts. He's already got a marshmallow on a stick over the fire. "That's one way to put it, Wheeler." You bury your face in your hands and groan.

"We're friends now, I swear!" you say. "He just pissed me off at first."

"He was an asshole, you mean," Robin corrects fondly. "Oh, Steve. We love him, don't get me wrong. But you were a sight to behold, putting him in his place like you did."

"I really wish I was there for that," Nancy sighs. "But seriously, I'm glad you're friends now and that he asked you to hang out with us. I was going to make Robin do it if Steve didn't get his act together --"

"Munson!" a voice interrupts. "Can't you wait for the rest of the s'mores stuff?" Eddie's marshmallow is now on fire as he greets Steve with a sheepish grin.

"Grocery store is a mess tonight," he says, dropping two plastic bags on the ground by your wood log benches. He's got a thermos tucked under one arm. And -- you swear you gasp just a little bit -- he's in a beanie. "I got graham crackers, chocolate, beer, and warm cider for anyone who doesn't want beer." He passes the six pack to Robin and she, Nancy, and Jonathan take one. Eddie looks between you and Steve and the thermos like he's trying to solve a puzzle before he takes a beer, too.

"Guess this is for you and me, bee girl," Steve says. Robin scoots over and Steve settles next to you on the wood, his thigh pressing warm into yours. "Hey," he says quietly, just to you.

"Hey yourself," you reply. It's no longer a surprise that you're so glad to see him. Eddie starts to ask Nancy about the big city and Steve cracks open the thermos and pulls out two chipped mugs from one of the plastic bags. You take one and his bare fingers brush against yours, warm as always.

"Did you bring gloves?" he asks, pouring hot cider into your mug. "And a hat?"

"Why, you gonna give me yours if I didn't?" you tease. He grins and your stomach swoops.

"Nah," he says. "I forgot my gloves, so I'm just making sure I can steal yours later."

"Wait, I brought blankets!" Eddie runs back to his van to grab them and tosses one to you and Steve. You hold his mug as he wraps it around you both, the thermos held between his legs.

"No need to steal my gloves," you say softly. He snorts a little.

"So," Nancy begins. "I hope I'm not prying, but can you tell me how exactly you ended up in Hawkins?"

"Oh," you say. "Uh." The cider is warm when you take a sip. You wonder if Steve made it himself before coming over here. "There's not much of a story, really." Robin gently knocks your foot with hers and Steve's thigh presses into you even more. "My folks wanted me to go to college so I did. But I didn't like it and I didn't want to waste money so I asked if I could uh, drop out."

"Badass," Eddie says. Nancy shushes him.

"I don't know what I want to do with my life," you continue. "And we had a connection to Bob and my parents told me to try the total opposite of college which is working on a bee farm, I guess. So, I'm just trying to figure it out." You take another sip of your cider. “Start a new story, or something.”

"I'll drink to that," Jonathan mutters. You laugh and it's echoed around the fire. He starts to tell a story about his classes at community college and you pull the blanket tighter around you. Steve is warm at your side and you glance at him. There's no use pretending that he's anything short of beautiful. You've thought so since you first saw him, even when he made you see red. But in the firelight and his hat he looks soft, young, happy. You trace the line of his jaw with your gaze and look away only when you realize you're staring at his lips. On the other side of him, Robin grins at you.

"Who wants to skip rocks?" she says. You realize you have no idea what's been said the last few minutes. She stands up and tugs Nancy from your side. "Come on," she says to the boys.

"Not on your life, Buckley," Steve says, but she's already down the bank with the others. "I hope no one falls in," he grumbles.

"Don't be such a grump," you tease. "They can handle themselves."

"It's too cold." Steve pouts exaggeratedly and you reach up to tug on his beanie.

"Thank you for inviting me, Steve," you say softly. "I'm having a nice time and it's...nice to have friends." His pout turns into something a little more real and his eyebrows furrow. "I like Hawkins a lot. I've just felt kind of adrift, if that makes sense?"

"I didn't help," he sighs. "I made it worse, I'm sure. I'm sorry for --"

"But you're helping now," you say. You put your hand on his knee and he inhales sharply. "No more apologies needed."

"I like the candles that you made," he blurts out. “The new ones that we’re stocking at Sara’s.” You smack your lips and keep your hand where it is.

"How did you know I made them?"

"You told me, just now." He's teasing but his face is flushed. His eyelashes look impossibly long. "Nah, I knew. You're a candle wiz. Even if you're clumsy." He eyes the hand that isn't on his knee, the one that you cut. You hold it up to show him, just like you did on Wednesday in the orchard. You feel bold under his gaze, bold in the darkness with your new friends laughing down at the shoreline. Bold because you've gone from being alone to being wanted in the span of a week and it feels good.

"I made them because you were smelling that one in my bedroom," you confess. "The evergreen lavender tester."

Steve's face does something complicated, like he's sorting through how he should feel about this. "Aren't you observant," he mutters, but it's teasing. His eyes catch your gaze again and this time he's searching for something. Then his hand settles over yours on his knee and you're worried he's going to pull it off.

"Can I try something?" he asks. "You can tell me to go fuck myself if you don't like it." The memory of your first meeting makes you laugh but it comes out as a nervous giggle because Steve is leaning in. He's leaning in and the crack of the fire and the laughter by the lake is drowned out by the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You close your eyes and wait to be kissed.

Steve is warm everywhere. His hand on yours, the line of his body as he turns into you, the palm that frees itself from the blanket to cup your jaw. He breathes into the small space between you for just a second too long and you decide to close the gap. He gasps against your lips and it's such a sweet sound that you smile. It's a soft kiss, sweet and hesitant. His lips are gentle but the hand on your face suggests that he could take control at any point, that he's letting you decide how long to keep this up.

You linger, pulling away only to lean back in for another quick peck against Steve's growing grin. You can't help it.

"C'mere," Steve says, tugging you into a hug. A first kiss has never felt so enormous, so monumental. You hide your face in his neck. "You don't taste like honey, honey," he says into your hair. "I feel kind of cheated."

You pinch his thigh and he yelps.

"We're friends, huh?" you say, knowing that you're crossing a line that maybe you can't come back from. And it's a dangerous move because you know right there, in the cold October night by the fire with his hand on your face and a blanket around you both that you could love him. It would be so easy. He could be your home if you wanted him to be. And that's terrifying.

"We're whatever you want," Steve replies.

___

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @mrs-dr-reid @toomanyacorns @darlingoctober @selfdeprecatingnerd @dullsocietyy @keep-drivng @shireentapestry @mintfrostflower @freezaz123

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#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #no good at waiting

[randomspagetti]

[Swap Au] (because I've lost control of my life)

I didn't try on the souljam bc I'm sick of drawing that thing istg

TW: DISSOCIATION/this au is a bit darker than my usual stuff, not too much but look out for yourself

You can pretty much tell what this au is about by the title but anyways:

Choco: I want to get this sword!

Cacao: No. I'm not letting you go out and get killed on a wild goose chase. Lemme.

[Tl;dr Cacao gets the sword, and while the soul jam is able to protect him from the curse, the curse starts seeping into it. (I've been making a lot of soul jam Aus recently 👀) ]

He notices that he's been more easily agitated, his mind has been being corrupted, and just generally stuff involving his beserk form (curse au who?) at an unprecedented amount, all while the sword is being inspected for any issues by researchers in the citadel for any issues. Realizing he's becoming more and more dangerous, and things might reach a boiling point, he runs away in the dead of night. Leading him eventually to the COD, but at that point the curse infecting his soul jam has corrupted enough of him to be unable to refuse their offer.

-

In this Au he's kinda unhinged but also silent, the voices in his head and the pain and regret surrounding him make it hard for him to think. DE despite some sorrow for her old friend is able to use this, because he doesn't have the mental capacity to deny any requests of bl00dshed. He's pretty much kinda dissociated from his actions. This all leads to the beginning of fights, attempts to help him, and issues at PV Kingdom.

Design:

His hair was slightly matted from his time in the woods, so DE had to cut it, along with that he's mostly wearing what he had under his usual clothes, but I'd imagine hed get something new later (like choco). He also got a bit of a gradient on his hair ^^ and some corruption on his face.

[some random disc stuff I wanted to include ^^]

#dark cacao crk #Swap!Au #cookie run kingdom #dark cacao cookie #cookie run #dark cacao kingdom #curse!au #berserk dark cacao #dark choco cookie #damn that curse hit harder than the strawberry jam sword #strawberry jam sword #pure vanilla crk #pure vanilla cookie #dark choco crk #cookies of darkness #dark enchantress cookie #soul jam #art #souljam

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

the sheer zoomies my brain did when i realised i hadn't checked for new chapters for a few weeks and found that indeed, i have several to catch up on (which i'll go do in a moment, i am sure they'll be wonderful, and the more the merrier!)

i haven't caught up on reading the other asks & answers yet either but i am just going to assume no one came in with this particular one since it's rather specific,,, so

i was thinking the other day, y'know how the archons' eyes and stuff can glow? and it might be a slightly odd thing to pick on, but i don't think it's because of anything specifically gnosis related, since, well, playable character things ought to be all-time accurate or after stuff happens, if anything. and also ei/raiden. has not had hers for some time. but she still gets that. that's probably a better argument. so, i assume it's like a light/godly energy thing maybe? or just some kind of really strong amount of elemental energy kind of thing. i don't want to assume that it's only the archons that have it because, well, we haven't exactly gotten to see other gods very much, and with the archons it's not there all the time, either. ...and elemental things just tend to glow anyway, it's just a really specific instance of it. at any rate, that leads me to the question: since ajax/childe/tartaglia has his uh, very notably lightless eyes, which tends to be attributed to the whole. fell into the abyss time, which to me does make sense. if we assume it's just a light/godly energy thing in general, would he have any of that potentially in the fic now? how would that work if the lightlessness is from the abyss? it's not like the abyss influence disappeared, after all. even if it, say, might show but might not show really bright, because well, his eyes are still. kind of. lightless, usually, i assume, and it really is just an assumption (i could go on a whole debate with myself on if they would even still be pretty much. mostly lightless but i'll just stick with assuming for now,,,). but maybe if not really bright, something that feels more underlying but is still... there? the best way i can put it into words is how the "bright" feeling comes from the "light" which not always but sometimes comes from, you know, a colour that's closer to white, and therefore lighter or a colour that's just... a lot more potent, for lack of a better way to describe it (it's probably not that simple, i know, but.). so what i mean by something underlying would be if, say, rather than a really light or even more medium kind of colour "shining through", so to speak, something that's.... perhaps a bit darker than usual, but still there. that's a really random thought to spring on you but my brain handed it to me the other day and it's been bothering me when it comes to cool little details or concepts (a very pleasant thinky much thoughts kind of thing) so i thought i would ask your opinion on that one, highly specific detail :] just a concept im curious about is all! i had no idea what to make of it, ahaha,,, i kept wondering if it's stretching the idea too far, but if it is just a light/godly/super-high-elemental energy kind of thing, then well, i can't help but wonder about it now

and a very practically irrelevant tiny thing but im sending this right after a tiny madness of trying to figure out how to maximise childe's ranged charged bow shot damage without using food or bennett. the highest i got is 45,100 from the initial hit (it was on an enemy with pyro and with kazuha boosting hydro but.). sir. how. that feels illegal. he continues to surprise me,, although i got far too invested in that small exercise, and boy does it take a lot to remove his hydro,,,,, but anyway! hope you are having a good day >:] i am off to see how much fic i can catch up on before sleep time arrives

4- 45k.............................................

you got me thinking- i think it'd be cool if it were something like this. morax' glow is normal light, while ajax', which has an abyssal effect to it, is uv light. morax' eyes just shine while ajax' turn into electric eyestrain blue

#hope you enjoy the new chapters! #ily <3 <3 <3 <3 #.png #.png fic #.png cyanide

[cherryrainn]

hihihi angst smut. like like uh gn!reader ( or female/male, whatever is easier ) is going through a breakup and greed 'helps' them :3 ( specifically greedler ) ( maybe a little comf seasoning with greed buying them stuff ? idk )

━━ ✧ 𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; greedler (onceler) x reader

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; hiiiiiiii mutual i love you/p

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; none just smut

in the midst of a bustling city, with towering skyscrapers and neon lights, you, with your heart heavy and burdened by the weight of a fresh breakup, sat alone in a cozy coffee shop. the familiar jingle of the bell above the door announced the arrival of someone who could only be one person: the notorious onceler.

onceler slid into the chair opposite you with a grin that mirrored the shine of his expensive cufflinks. "y/n! heard you could use a little cheering up," he purred, his voice dripping with confidence.

you tried to manage a weak smile. "hey, onceler, you didn't have to come all the way here."

"oh, but i insist," he said with a dramatic flourish of his hand. "i just somehow happened to be in the neighborhood, doing some important business deals, you know, the usual."

you chuckled, despite your somber mood. onceler's larger-than-life personality was oddly comforting in these moments.

the coffee shop's barista arrived at your table, a latte in hand. onceler had ordered it before even asking what you wanted. "your usual," he winked.

you took a sip of the latte, grateful for the caffeine boost. "thanks, onceler."

he leaned forward, his confident persona giving way to a rare moment of vulnerability. "listen, i heard about your breakup. you deserve better than that, really."

you felt a warmth spreading through your heart. "you always know how to make me feel better, onceler."

"ah, but there's more," he announced with a wink. "i may or may not have bought you a little something." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gift-wrapped box, presenting it with a grin.

curiosity piqued, you unwrapped the gift to find a sleek, expensive-looking wallet. "onceler, this is too much," you protested.

he waved your concerns away. "nope, just a little token of my appreciation. now you have a shiny new wallet to match your shiny personality."

as the evening grew darker, onceler, ever the gentleman (in his own unique way), offered to take you home. you accepted, grateful for his company and the comfort he provided in this trying time.

the ride was filled with his casual banter and support. he continued to assure you that you deserved better than what you'd gone through, his words sincere and comforting. the city lights painted a beautiful backdrop to your conversation, and for a moment, you felt at ease.

you arrived at your doorstep, and there was a moment of silence. the city's neon lights cast a soft, magical glow around you both. onceler's eyes met yours, and you saw a different kind of intensity in them. it was as if he wanted to convey something beyond just comforting words.

in that moment, he leaned in, and your lips met in a tender kiss. it was a kiss filled with understanding, empathy, and a hint of longing. your heart skipped a beat as you realized that maybe, just maybe, there was more to onceler's feelings than you had initially thought.

he gently pushed you inside your home and closed the door behind him. the atmosphere inside was cozy, and the soft, warm light created an inviting ambiance. you found yourself standing near the couch.

you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but then, a realization dawned on you. this was what you'd been craving for so long — the connection, the intimacy. you needed this.

"onceler, i... i want you," you said softly.

that did it. he closed the distance between you in a single stride. he gently pushed you onto the couch, his body towering over yours.

his lips found yours again, more urgent and passionate this time. you melted into the kiss, allowing him to take the lead.

he broke the kiss, his eyes searching yours for consent. you nodded, your breath quickening.

he wasted no time, his hands exploring your body, caressing every inch of you. his fingers deftly undid the buttons of your shirt, and you gasped as his lips found your bare skin.

"y/n," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "you're perfect."

you let out a moan as his hands and lips continued their exploration, leaving no part of you untouched. you felt a warmth pooling between your legs, and you knew that you needed more.

"please," you whimpered, desperate for his touch.

he obliged, his fingers finding the zipper of your pants and tugging them down. you lifted your hips to help him, and his mouth curved into a smirk.

"eager, are we?"

you could only moan in response, the sound of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, and you bit your lip to suppress a moan. his thumb expertly teased you, the pleasure building and building.

"don't hold back," he murmured. "let me hear you."

the pressure and pleasure built and built until you felt yourself falling over the edge. the release was intense, and you cried out his name, your fingers clutching the fabric of the couch.

as you came down from your high, you gazed up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and appreciation. he leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

you broke the kiss and looked up at him with a mischievous smile. "now, let's see what you're hiding under that suit of yours."

you tugged his tie loose, undoing the buttons of his shirt with nimble fingers. he groaned as your hands brushed against his bare skin, his muscles tensing under your touch.

you reached down, your fingers unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. his cock sprang free, and you felt a rush of arousal as you took in the sight.

"like what you see?" he smirked.

"oh, yeah," you replied, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. he moaned, his eyes fluttering closed.

you began to stroke him, his cock growing harder and thicker in your hand. you could feel the tension building within him, his muscles tightening as he tried to hold himself back.

"don't hold back," you murmured. "i want all of you."

at your words, he let out a growl and grabbed your hips, pushing you back onto the couch. he hovered over you, his cock brushing against your entrance.

"ready?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

"good." he plunged into you, his cock filling you completely. you gasped, your body adjusting to his size.

he began to move, his thrusts deep and slow. you clung to him, your nails digging into his back. the pleasure was exquisite, the feeling of him inside you making you feel complete.

you moaned, the sound muffled as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. he began to move faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

"y/n, you're so tight," he groaned.

you could only moan in response, your mind and body overwhelmed by the pleasure. the tension continued to build, your orgasm imminent.

"y/n," he grunted. "i'm gonna come."

his words pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name, your body shuddering with ecstasy. he followed soon after, his release intense and powerful.

as you both came down from your high, he held you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. you rested your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing.

"i love you, y/n," he murmured.

"i love you, onceler," you whispered.

you closed your eyes, feeling safe and content in his embrace. in that moment, all was right in the world.

#GREEDLER #onceler #the lorax #greedler x reader #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #fluff #smut #onceler x reader #onceler fandom #the onceler #lorax fandom #the lorax 2012 #break ups

[cuprohastes]

Lunch In Space

Part 1

Wherein we are introduced to two of our main characters, the perils of interspecies cafeterias and the alternate uses of dog jumpers, and the Narrator is too self-obsessed to introduce themselves properly

4am, in the vast darkness of space, the lightless void that's darker than the stygian depths.

Apart from the stars. They're actually pretty bright. Famously so come to think of it. Also all the lights on the station, so you can look at it and admire it and spot any fresh new exciting holes that have appeared.

And if you're on shift, like me, use those handly lights to find the cafeteria and very carefully pick through the offerings because believe me, while Yarrick won't kill you, your body will basically say 'What the heck?' and treat it like a nice big plate of Silicone jelly and you will be experiencing a whole new and exciting set of sensations, and hey, sometimes you just have to clutch the toilet seat and scream a bit: We've all been there.

So I get my nice human safe food, and an extra roll of purple stuff that's not bread but it might as well be, and relocate my heiny to the big table by the window, the one that's always a bit chilly which is why me and Atrix and Atrix are usually the only ones who sit there.

I mean Atrix does because she's comfortable with a little extra cooling, and Atrix is there because he's not driving, he's just along for the ride.

"Yo." I say to my good buddy, the giant purple kangaroo dinosaur. She gives me a Yo back and dual finger guns.

Atrix the pocket lizard sticks his snout out and makes grabby paws at the roll.

I slide it over to his wifey, the purple lizard woman with the colour changing face and a degree in Astromechanics (Also horticulture, Art History and apparently, Interspecies erotica).

"You're over feeding him." Big Atrix says. Small Atrix grakkles. He has opinions and he really wants that bun, but then again if he gets too fat he has to move out, change gender and start paying taxes.

I also know that Godzilla here always skimps on the husband food because she knows I'll swing by with a little something something for her pocket hubby.

"Yeah well, someone has to be the fun Aunt." I say cheerfully. You're always the Aunt with the Atrix, regardless of gender.

I settle in, to eat a lovely meal of... what appears to be chicken flavoured... it's... hmm. Well, it's chicken flavoured and guaranteed not to cause anything to go a funny colour and fall off. It actually tastes great, but I'd describe it as being yes, a thing.

"So," I say around the food flavoured... stuff, "Picked a good solid Traditional Human Name yet?". My friend bobs her head again: Practicing her human physical emotes.

-This should be good. Atrix are good people but they don't have spoken names. They have a word that means 'I'm gonna show you name' then they change their face colours like a cuttlefish. They literally just turn into another person for a moment: This drives most species nuts.

Humans find it hilarious. Atrix can see the funny side. Humans and Atrix get along a little too well for everyone else's comfort and That's The Way We Like It™️.

Big n' Purple thinks about it, then says, "I was thinking... Gondolier Dottirsdottir, or maybe Luminal Effervescence."

OK so the Atrix tend to go for names that are just really fun to say. hence the Secretary General of the Combined Human-Atrix Interstellar Survey, a really big female with as much or more gravitas as a class two black hole - a very serious pocket pal all 'round - being named Pingbing O'Candyfloss.

I consider it. "People will call you Gondy, or Lumy." I point out to her as she feeds purple... bread-y stuff... to the iguana-sized male that lives in her belly pouch. He grakkles at me. He's a sociable little guy, quite chatty, I just have no idea what he's saying. Gondy grackles back and he does Upsies arms.

"Gondy. Ahm-hum. That sounds good. Gondy." she says trying it on. I can see she's definitely enjoying the mouth sound.

She hauls her hubbins out of her pouch, which is covered by her overalls and a big apron flap so he can sleep or play games on her phone.

"Did you... put him in one of those dog jumpers?" I ask as she puts her guy on the table. He looks smug and shows off. It's a small, chihuahua sized Christmas sweater. It's currently May, or close enough. But I'm not going to harsh his mellow. The little dude's obviously stoked to be a fashionista.

Gondy bobs her head looking pleased. "I'm thinking he should be Raxyplank Magellan. Raxy's a cute name." she says.

Raxy looks up and says "Rax!" around a mouthful of hubby food. Well, I can't fault that. At least he gets a name he can say.

For an Atrix male, he's pretty adventurous - He'll talk to people and even come out and walk around if he can keep one eye on Gondy.

Traditionally, or "Back in the day" - Several tens of thousands of years ago, until an Atrix got big enough to be safe, there was a good chance that something would camper up and make a meal of them.

So they have a general resistance to being out in the open, where it's cold and there might be cool alien eagles or space-lizard foxes.

Luckily when they get big enough they develop pouches and to they pick a male out and carry them around for safety and to have someone to talk to and hold shiny rocks (I'm a bit fuzzy on the finer details), so you almost always see two Atrix, even if one of them is usually hiding.

And now Raxy is hanging out with us like a regular little dude and getting crumbs on his ugly Christmas sweater. It is in all ways a pretty nice moment.

Anyway that's about when the station blew up...

#humans are space orcs #Atrix #lunch in space

[browniefox]

Alright, more Crisis Core, let's go! This one ended up being REALLY long (we got through two chapters), so I'm putting a read more some ways down so it doesn't kill people's dashes.

The boy said the line!

Yay, Cloud is finally here! He still clearly has the basic infantry model other than the head, but it does mean he stands in the casual almost sassy way they all do haha. In general, it's so weird but cute to see him smiling and laughing. Aw, he's not traumatized yet!

I knew what was coming, but my friend I'm playing with didn't, so it was fun to see her reaction (tho i totally still got so excited anyway haha).

This is just here bc I love them so <3 And then Tseng is also here being a third wheel. The sneaking portion that is right after this I sucked ass at. I couldn't make it five feet without being seen and tossed out, and I just had to wait until the game took pity on me and took the guards away.

Genesis, please I'm begging you just kill Hollander. I do love seeing his hair, once so bright red, getting grayer and darker, how his nice leather jacket is getting all broken, giving a sense that he's not taking care of himself and his things as much as he should be.

My sister has tried to stay more-or-less blind to what happens in Crisis Core (she knows some stuff, I know a little more) but all fics tend to use the same Loveless lines (which makes sense, of course) but I did end up reciting this quote with him bc it's one of my favorites, much to the shock of my sister.

I can't believe Zack really thinks Genesis died tho. Like, the guy has a wing, he can fly, falling is not gonna kill him. I'm still not totally clear what Genesis is trying to achieve, but I've been watching some of ButterBuns CCR videos and she's kind of given me a better sense of Genesis. He's just flailing around, trying to get something, anything, to work. He's a dying man who is desperate and doesn't even know himself exactly what he wants.

HELL YEAH! If the creators weren't cowards they would have let your models touch. Our new thing while playing is being proud of Zack for having two boyfriends and one girlfriend. The boy can get it.

As per usual, my biggest problem with this game is the writing - especially with Angeal, tbh. I guess Angeal is just like Genesis in that he's desperately trying to figure out who he is, monster or man. But every time he talks about being a monster I kind of roll my eyes. He's like an emo teenager. Last chapter I felt like it was getting a better grip and liking for him, but I'm kind of back to just being like 'what's your deal man'.

That being said, I kind of dig his weird monster form! It's a mishmash but super cool, and I love how his arms are folded in front of him. My friend and sister I don't think liked it as much and mostly made fun of it which, fair.

Mostly unrelated, but i really got myself into a big of predicament in that I'm super overpowered, which means I get through battles so quick, which also means I don't get to show off all the limit breaks and summons and such when we're playing ;-; but then I turn it to hard mode and die instantly.

I'm always a sucker for sad sunsets. I might not get Angeal or his deal, but I do at least buy that Zack cares about Angeal. It's kind of like Angeal was too set in his ways of monster vs heroes, and that a monster needs to be killed by a hero. That Zack is the only hero left to kill a monster like him, or that by doing so Zack proves he's a hero. But really all it's done is given Zack trauma and made him more uncertain than ever who he is and what he stands for.

(It kind of reminds me of near the end of Homestuck, when Dave and Dirk are talking, and Dave admits it's possible that Bro was trying to train him, but all it did was make him scared.)

I wish we got to spend more time in the game with Aerith, but at least you get the sense that they do spend more time with each other, especially with Aerith being there for Zack after this.

MY BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL BOY! I wish your limit break looked cooler tho :P

Wait, so are Angeal and Genesis brothers then?? I knew they were connected through Gillian, but I guess how connected never hit me. I mean, Angeal defo has her hair while Genesis has her face, but also I've been imagining and seeing them as boyfriends this whole time???

So many mixed feelings about Zack right now. The first thing is yay, new hair cut! My sister absolutely hated his bangs, so big win for her. I do like that you get to see that, as one of the last remaining Firsts, Zack has started to take on more of a leadership and mentor role for the other SOLDIERs. However, him telling them to protect their SOLDIER honor is weird when Zack doesn't know what that is either. I've felt it, but I am glad Zack himself has acknowledged that he doesn't know what that honor is or what it means. I hope we get to see Zack figure it out. I also like that Zack is kind of unmoored and uncertain now. Puts him in an interesting place for whatever's next.

Beach episode! It is FUCKING INSANE to me that Cissnei just... tells Zack that Aerith is an Ancient. Why? What was the point of that? Cissnei, you can't just say that! I guess it could be seen as her trusting Zack and demonstrating she wants to help him, but it's still so weird. It's nice Zack has been said to be hanging with the turks more, but I wish we could have gotten more of that in game. I don't think he even knows Reno and Rude's names.

BOOO TSENG SHOULD BE IN A SWIMSUIT TOO BOO!

So I know Genesis is still alive, but interesting that this is beign considered since it's Sephiroth's whole deal. Tbh, tho, I'm not sure how I feel about Tseng openly acknowledging that Mako is life. How much is that recognized in general, actually? I mean, people do fade into mako when they die... hm, much to think about.

The chase through the city was so dumb, I've had it with Hollander, how hard can it be to catch and/or kill one guy for real. That being said, I do like how cool the buster sword is, and at the end is Sephiroth :D I'm glad that Zack seems a little bitter towards Sephiroth; they're both mourning in different ways, and it's driven a rift between both of them. But at the same time, they're the closest thing they both have to someone who can understand what they're going through.

Shoutout to Zack's little fidgets :D He's still a restless little puppy, despite it all. Sephiroth and Zack's relationship is just so good and interesting, I need them to hang out more so I can see more of it.

God Genesis is so pretty. Both him and Angeal have fucked up looking wings - which adds to what they're going through - but I actually love it for Genesis. Again, what is this dude's goal? He'll probably tell you once he figured it out himself. I love the reveal that he was also at Junon this whole time. Interesting parallel to how the Firsts fought 'at Junon' altogether and now they can't be further apart.

I need to pet that dog! Is Angeal still alive?? I totally thought he died, he has to be dead, right? Just living on in his copies? Anyway, the dog should be a character who manages to live forever because I love him. Also, laughed so hard when the little Shinra robots came into the church oh my god, it's not supposed to be funny I think but it's hilarious how non-threatening they look.

Wow Kunsel, jealous much?? Also, a little creepy? Is my boyfriend stalking me? If I trusted Kunsel, at this point I'd think he was going to betray me at some point, but I trust him too much for that. It seems more like Kunsel just doesn't know how to say 'I'm worried about you and you should talk to me about what you're going through'. I love Kunsel <3

As usual, this game feels like it goes too fucking fast. It's always one thing after another, nobody's talking or explaining things. Maybe it's because you're expected to do side missions every so often? That would probably break things up a bit more. God, there's such an interesting story here! I just wish it was told better.

Also I've been playing so much of this game and only just learned you can sprint :P

#browniefox speaks #ffvii #ff7 #crisis core #ffviicc #brownie plays ccr

[cursedvibes]

Your post about your favourite protagonists reminded me that once Gege said they didn't like too nice characters they're annoying and it's one thing they don't like about shonen. They tried to avoid that with Yuuji and I think that's why Yuuji feels so real and genuine. I usually like protagonists but Yuuji is one of the few I'd call my favorite. I just love how much care is put into his character. I sometimes wish jjk was more character driven rather than plot driven so we'd get more of Yuuji. But ah well! If we get a proper conclusion to his arc I'll be beyond satisfied and that's my only wish for the ending.

Yes, I very much agree! I usually don't like main characters, that's why I made that post, to figure out to me about characters like Yuuji, Phos etc. All too often they are just too perfect. What they say goes. Even if they have the most idiotic plan imaginable it will somehow work out because they are the protagonist. Everyone loves them because they are just so special and can do no wrong.

Yuuji does feel very realistic considering his circumstances. Just a vaguely suicidal boy who has lost everything and tries to survive in this completely new world he has been thrown into. He doesn't try to be a leader, he has only half a year of experience after all. He isn't the strongest and often has to rely on others, but that is his strength and makes the other characters more important than just empty hype machines. He easily gets along with people, but he has a hard time becoming close friends with them out of fear of hurting them or becoming too vulnerable. There are plenty of people who like him, but he is not worshipped. He wants to help as many people as possible, but he doesn't try to play the hero. Not anymore at least because when he did it in the beginning and blindly trusted into Sukuna or luck carrying him through it, he died. I also really like it when his darker side shines through like in his confrontations with Mahito. He will kill you if he has to or hates you enough, he's not above that.

I appreciate Gege's focus on the plot for the most part, since it never makes the story linger too long on tedious parts (until recently), but sometimes I do wish we would linger a little bit longer with some characters and their experiences, especially with all the dramatic stuff that has been happening since Shibuya. The characters don't have much time to rest and reflect though, so that makes sense. I also like this method of giving quick glimpses of a characters struggle, motivation, thoughts etc and then expanding on it bit by bit as the story progresses, it always gives you something to think about and makes you curious to find out more. Like with the reveal of Yuuji's past for example or Tengen & Kenjaku's relationship. I think Yuuji has gotten some good focus throughout the story though, I don't feel like something is missing, even if I'm of course always happy about more. Gege is at their best when writing (about) him.

Only thing that really bothers me is how everything has been put on hold for the Sukuna vs Gojo fight and how the majority of the main characters are just sitting around doing nothing. That feels very unrealistic, especially for Yuuji. I also would've liked a bit more focus on their reunion with Gojo and preparation for the final arc.

Like you said, my only wish for the final arc is a proper conclusion of Yuuji's character and also Kenjaku. Everything else I can live with.

#asks #itadori yuuji

[coffearabica]

Bae, there is this one sentence that stuck with me for some reason but I can't seem to think of any good story to use it in rn. So, maybe u would think of sth?

"Just because you CAN (do it all by yourself), doesn't mean you HAVE TO."

Cue exasperation, lol.

babes i woke up early to work, saw this, and my plans did a rapid 180. wrote it too quickly so pls don’t expect much. and thank you sm for this!! i really need to write but i don’t know what and this helped a ton🫶

—

You didn’t know the extent of it, then again he made sure of that.

Xavier could never hide his emotions. If there was one thing he disliked more than Wednesday herself, it was her ability to do just that. Because she seemed to have no qualms about accusing him of murder while he was left spiraling.

It was easy to pick up on his negative mood. He was unsteady, his knee shaking, his empty fingers shifting as though he had a pen creating unseeable art. You couldn’t ask him about it though, because another thing about Xavier was he didn’t like to burden you.

Especially not with murder.

It’d gone on for days - each new sunrise met with a darker version of your boyfriend. He no loger smiled at you, he seemed to have adopted a permanent frown and canyon between his brows. He didn’t speak to you much either, but his silence spoke volumes. And this was only when you saw him, because he’d also disappeared. Even Ajax was growing concerned.

“Hey.” He approached you just before Botany let out, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and beanie pulled down lower than usual.

“Hi,” you smiled at him.

“Have you seen Xavier lately?”

“Uhm, no not really.”

“Oh,” he visibly deflates, “something’s wrong with him. He hasn’t even been showing up to-” he pauses, wryly looks around and leans in to whisper, “the meetings.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s dealing with some stuff.” You try to keep the bitterness out of your tone, feeling ashamed for not knowing the specifics. He wouldn’t even give you a chance to ask.

“This Hyde stuff as been really messing with him.”

That gets you to pause. You don’t hear anymore of what Ajax is saying, instead determination fills your blood stream and your shouldering your bag just as class is dismissed and pushing out a half-assed apology to him as you rush off.

The woods seemed to get denser anytime you walked through them, especially when Xavier wasn’t around. The sky was gloomier and open spaces smaller but you’d made it through in record time. His art shed stood as it always did, a bit battered, unimportant looking to the plain eye. But you knew his space, and you knew him.

You didn’t do your knock, a specific one to let him know it was you. You twisted the knob and barged right in.

“What the hell.” He scowls, dropping his paintbrush and turning to face you with nothing but malice. It took him a moment to register that it was you, the hard edge to his voice fell away, his shoulders relaxed and he was back to frowning, “What’re you doing here?”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Xavier. Tell me what has you holing yourself way from everyone.”

He bends down to pick up his brush, “Nothings wrong.”

“Something must be! You wont talk to me, you won’t see me, and now you won’t even look at me! Your friends are worried about you, I’m worried about you, okay?”

His shoulders tense and with his back turned to you you don’t see his lips pursing and eyes welling with tears.

“Is it really that bad? Because if it is and you don’t want to talk to me about it, fine. But at least talk to someone. You can’t keep pushing people away and hiding in your shed as if no one gives a-”

“Just stop.” He says through gritted teeth.

“No, Xavier, no more of that silent torture bullshit. I’m your girlfriend, I’m supposed to be here for you. You’d never let me get away with not telling you so I’m done letting you.”

When he doesn’t respond, or move, you start to think you went too far. That maybe he just wasn’t ready and you’d barged into his space like an asshole demanding answers. But then you hear the shuddering breaths that give way to an almost inaudible sob.

Your bag hits the floor with a thud and Xavier turns just as you reach him. His arms loop around your waist and pulls you plush against him as he hides in the crook of your neck. Drops of tears hit your skin and his shoulders shake beneath your arms. His skin is oddly warm and hair a tangled mess that your fingers barely get through, but you only hold him tighter.

“It’s okay, baby.” You whisper.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. It’s unsteady, much like him. Everything seems to come out in that moment, like the knots holding everything in had loosened just enough and it all came tumbling. It takes a while before he calms down. His shaking shoulders reduce to lengthy breaths and when you’re sure he’s gotten it all out you try to pull back.

Except he doesn’t let you, he anchors you to himself and drops a soft kiss on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He says again.

“What’s wrong, Xavier?”

It takes a moment before he tells you, and it takes an even tighter squeeze to quell the anger he feels swelling inside you when he does. “It just got too much. And with the visions - I didn’t want to close my eyes and I knew that if I saw you I’d…” he trails off and it’s your turn to tighten your arms around him,

“I wish you’d come to me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You’re never a burden to me, xav.”

“Still, it’s a lot and I didn’t want anyone else to have to deal with it.”

When you pull back this time he lets you, his face blotchy and eyes still shiny with tears. His cheeks redden and he tries to duck his head back to your shoulder but you grab his face and swipe your thumbs under his eyes.

“You shouldn’t deal with it alone. That’s too much.” He tries to open his mouth but you kiss him before he can, its quick - just to keep him quiet so you can speak, “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to. Especially not when you have me.”

You look into his eyes, hoping he sees how serious you are. Because it hurt to feel like you lost him.

You pull him in to kiss him again, this time it’s longer, slower, and full of everything unsaid in the past week. With your hands you tilt his head, deepening the kiss and without prompting him to xavier opens his mouth.

His hands begin moving, up and down your back and crushing your chest to his. They skim over your waist, his fingers briefly digging into the skin there. He lowers them, tugging at your hips until you’re gasping for air. He doesn’t relent, he trails kisses along your neck as you gently pull on his hair.

“Thank you.” he whispers between his sloppy kisses.

“Come to me next time.” You say it firmly, even with your eyes closed in bliss. “Promise me.”

He picks his head up, looking down at you with tender eyes. The space between them is no longer creased and the added pink to his face makes him look much brighter than he’d looked all week.

“I promise.” he says.

“Good.” You tug him low, kissing his forehead first, then his nose, under each of his eyes, and his chin. His eyes are closed, anticipating the next spot and when you touch your lips to his again, for a moment, the horrors of his week are forgotten.

#xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe imagine

[kirbydaily]

any tips on lineart or coloring? I adore your art style!!!!!

thank you! this post might be a little rambley because i'm not the best at explaining things

ok for starters, i don't want to go into my own personal preferences for choosing colors too much. when i started drawing i really stuck with what other artists said was the "correct" way to do things and that can really hinder your art a lot, so i'm going to give general descriptions of colors and color schemes and let you decide which ones you find the most appealing or enjoyable to use. i think choosing colors comes down to personal preference most of all. don't take anything i (or any other artist) say as law, drawing is a lot more fun when you make your own decisions about it. if you want to use a lot of super bright/dull colors, or no colors at all, go for it! your art should be what you want it to. this post is more for people who want to know more about color schemes than for people who want to draw exactly how i do lol

also you can use solid black and white in your art its not illegal and it doesn't always look bad idk why this is such a common thing people say in tutorials/tips about colors

color schemes can be monochromatic or polychromatic, with my art i usually use different colors but i like to use monochromatic schemes sometimes too, art can look very nice with both of them. characters with multiple colors (like kirby) can be drawn with monochromatic palettes as long as you have varying values of the color.

with polychromatic color schemes, remember that less is more! limit your colors and try not to use way too many, it makes things less confusing. reuse colors for different things instead of adding new ones

value is how light or dark a color is. i like to use color schemes with a lot of tints (or pastel colors), usually with a few darker colors in order to define shapes a little better. value is Very important to make the thing you're trying to draw clear to see and separate details from each other, so i'd study this before learning about picking colors individually.

saturation is how "intense" a color is. it's different from value, and it works alongside it (saturated/desaturated colors have tints and shades.) i don't use many very saturated or destaturated colors, and a lot of my art kind of lies in the middle. when i do use them, i try not to put very saturated and very desaturated colors together in the same color scheme, as using all of one or the other can make things more cohesive. (also, don't make dark skintones too desaturated. they should be in the middle)

the most important thing to remember about color schemes is that colors don't work independently, they look best when they're cohesive with other colors. think about how you want something to look before you color it, consider if it's supposed to look cute or have a gloomy/dark feel, if its daytime or night, etc. try not to follow a character's reference sheet colors too strictly, and change them as needed given what you want your finished art to look like.

lineart is a lot more simple (at least to me). i usually use a dark blue or whatever color i associate with the character for it, and i like to keep the stablization setting very low, as that helps it make look more sketchy/painterly. (i use clip studio paint, so if anyone wants these brushes let me know and i'll put them in a different post)

hopefully this was a little helpful and not too much of a pain to read! i've gotten a Lot of asks about this so i felt like i should make this post as detailed as i can. do look for other resources if you want to learn more about this stuff, there's people way better at explaining things than i am lol

#i don't like those ''this is wrong and this is right'' kinds of art tutorials/tips so i hope this doesn't feel like that #except the cym and ryb thing. use cyan yellow magenta its infinitely better alway;s #asks #not daily #long post

[mythical-bookworm]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

(Thanks to @professorsaber for tagging me!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

10

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

99,759 (Minus About 13,000 if you don't want to include the Discord Blind Writing game, most of which I did not write)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

In order of amount of fics:

Amphibia

Gravity Falls

Back to the Future

Wings of Fire

The Cyclist

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Lost With a Second Chance (Amphibia)

Two Deaths, Five Perspectives (Amphibia)

I've been thinking of our future, 'cause I'll never see those days (Amphibia)

The Fourth Wall (Gravity Falls)

Leaves Fall Just Like Me When It Is Over (Amphibia)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

95% of the time! For one it's always polite. But also it means the world to me when I get a comment! That means someone read my story, and has something to say. They were moved enough to take the risk and reach out. Plus it's a way to meet new people!

The only times I don't is when I legitimately have nothing I can respond with, or if it is a hate message.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Argh that is extremely hard.

At first I would say Don't Try to be a Hero. The fic is overall an angsty introspective character study and ends with the character wallowing. But it's all introspective.

But than there's The Fourth Wall, basically a crack meta fic that does anything but take itself seriously. The entire fic is Dipper and Mabel finding the fourth wall and figuring out their in a fanfiction. It ends with them seeing the end and there is nothing they can do to stop it. Once the fic ends, they do to. Which uh yeah, darker implications than I meant.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This one is hard! None of my posted fics necessarily have a super happy all problems solved ending.

In the end I'd have to go with Leaves Fall Just Like Me When It Is Over. Anne finally reveals the full truth of what happened on her last day of Amphibia and she can finally start to heal. She feels lightened, the burden of the secret lifted.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I've had disappointing ones, more raw ones. I had some criticism comments. And while some of it was very true, other parts just hit me like whiplash as it was put pretty bluntly.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope nope nope, and nope.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah, usually not to much into that stuff anyways.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really, unless you count the Blind Bttf Discord Writing Game. (Results here.)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Uh, ok so I'm not a huge shipper. Like I'll support the canon ships and all. but I'm not necessarily all gushy about them. And I'm usually not a fan of fanon ships.

If I had to chose one though it would be Flinn. Now I am no Adventure Time enthusiast, but I did really like this ship between Finn and Flame Princess.

A close second would be Marty/Jennifer, because the two are each others biggest cheerleaders and I love that. :)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh jeez, ok. Probably a Back to the Future Oneshot entitles "Are You Alright?"

Overall, I like the concept. The idea is George doesn't kiss Lorraine. As Marty is fading he runs off stage and collapses by the side of the gym, catching George's attention. George finds him and Marty successfully hides his fading from existence and tells George to tell Doc about him being shot in 1985. George delivers the message and Doc is distraught in realizing what had happened. So he decides to use the lighting strike to go back in time and help Marty get George and Loraine to kiss. George ends up learning exactly who Marty is and goes back in time to get his past self to kiss Loraine. This fails so he does it himself.

Unfortunately there are issues with this:

First is timeline. There is not enough time for all the events to occur before the lightning strike happens. Doc would have totally missed it.

Second, once ensuring Marty's existence, he wouldn't be able to go home. Doc is already using the lightning bolt to go back in time to get George to kiss Lorraine. And I simply don't want that. I want a happy ending for once dang it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

And you have asked the hardest question ever.

I've been told I do some good suspense. Also been told I have good pacing, but others say I don't so who knows on that.

Personally I feel like I'm really good at letting the characters run free. I hardly have any outline when it comes to fics and let my characters make the path. This had lead to some surprising twists that ended up being much better than what I could come up with.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything.

Okay real answer:

-Writing cute fluffy moments to be interesting. I'm working really hard on that, in fact I'm writing a BttF fic focusing a lot on that so I can get better.

-Repetitive words. How do I specify the same character without saying their name 5 times? Am I to repetitive? Am I not saying their name enough? AAAAAAAAAA

-Keeping everything in context and connected. My main issue with my Lost With a Second Chance was I made a character have amnesia, which did nothing in the long run. All it did was make drama. So I'm trying to make everything connect, everything have a reason. Plus creating cool loops.

-Show not tell. I'm a lot better, but I definitely need improvement.

-Not make things to obvious but not so unobvious is seems weird. For example, mysterious villain. I'm struggling to not just have something that magically gives the character all the information, but than I'm struggling to get them the answers so the villain doesn't seem shallow cause he's not, you just don't know it yet. Or, oh this character is acting this way because of a, b, and c, but I dropped you in the middle so I'm not sure how to put the point across without blatantly telling you.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Never thought about it. I only know one language so I'd have to put things into Google Translate. I have taken sections of books and Google Translated it a bunch of times to absolutely destroy it though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Amphibia!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Definitely Great Scott! (Doctober 2023) . I had so so so much fun writing it and I truly improved by it!

Tagging @knickynoo @daryfromthefuture @bg-sparrowand anyone else who wants to do it!

#this was fun #writing #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #back to the future #bttf #author #amphibia #gravity falls #wings of fire #questions #q & a #woah first post I actually felt confident with

[saline-coelacanth]

Here's that Werehog Sonadow one shot that I mentioned last night

Also you can read it on my ao3 if you'd like

_____________

It had been quite a while since the Dark Gaia incident. Sonic was glad to be over with all of that. Although he had gotten used to his werehog form, he’d be lying if he said he was upset to lose it. Only thing is, Sonic eventually learned that it wasn’t entirely gone.

It happened one night. The sun was beginning to set, but Sonic was still out running. He decided to stop for a bit and take in the view. Sonic was still getting used to being able to enjoy the sunset. When he still had to deal with his werehog form, he had begun to dread the sun going down. Even if he eventually accepted his new form, it was still a pain each night having to transform into the beast. And he was never too fond of people seeing him like that. But now Sonic didn’t have to worry about that. At least, that’s what he thought.

Sonic smiled as he saw the sun go down. The sky started to grow darker as the moon started to rise up. Sonic’s body started to get a little shaky, but he didn’t seem to notice at first. It wasn’t until the moon became more visible that Sonic realized something was wrong. He felt a sharp, familiar pain rush through his body. Sonic crumbled onto the ground, his body shaking much more now. His gloves ripped apart as his claws tore through them. His fur turned a dark blue and grew longer, his whole body growing slightly larger as well. Sonic let out a painful howl as the transformation finished.

Sonic took some deep breaths as he slowly stood back up. He stared at himself in shock.

“I thought I was done with this,” he commented.

Sonic’s mind started racing as he questioned why this happened. Dark Gaia took back the energy that caused him to transform. Why was this happening to him again? He was fine before, why is he only now changing back?

Sonic looked around at his surroundings, trying to figure out what to do next. Tails’ place should be nearby, Sonic thought. Maybe he’ll have an idea what’s going on.

Sonic started running as fast as he could towards Tails’ place, though it was nowhere near as fast as his usual speed. He tried his best not to freak out, wanting to try and keep a level head, but he admitted that he was worried.

Tails was busy working on one of his latest gadgets when he heard a knock on his door.

“Hang on!” Tails called as he finished tightening the screw.

He heard another knock, this one much louder than the last one.

“I’m coming!” Tails replied, trying not to sound annoyed. He walked up to the door to see Sonic standing there in his werehog form, his face full of distress. Tails’ eyes widened as he saw his brother in this thought to be gone form.

“Sonic?”

“Tails, I need help,” Sonic said, walking inside.

“Sonic, what happened to you?” Tails asked. “I thought your werehog form was gone!”

“I thought so too!” Sonic replied. “But I was just out running around like usual, and then when it became night, I turned into this!”

Tails could tell that Sonic was panicked. He couldn’t blame him at all, he’d probably have the same reaction if he were in his situation.

“Sonic, sit down and try to relax, ok?” Tails instructed. “We’ll figure this out.”

Sonic nodded and walked over to the couch, trying to calm down. Tails went to the other room to grab some equipment. He dragged it all into the main room and started setting some of it up.

“Hopefully with some of this, we can figure out exactly what’s going on with you,” Tails said.

“Ok,” Sonic replied, though he seemed a little unsure.

“Don’t worry Sonic, I’m a genius. If anyone can figure out what’s going on here, it’s me.”

Sonic chuckled. “Yeah yeah, I get it,” he said. “Don’t worry Tails, I trust you.”

Tails gave Sonic a smile before finishing setting up the equipment. He had to hook up some stuff to Sonic before starting the different tests. 

It took a while for Tails to gather enough data and do enough research to come to a final conclusion. Sonic was starting to get more anxious the longer it took for Tails to find an answer, but he kept assuring himself that Tails knew what he was doing. But eventually, Tails did come up with a theory.

“I think I’ve got it,” he said. “From what I can see, Dark Gaia’s energy didn’t entirely leave your body. There’s still very small traces of it left behind, probably due to it being there for so long.”

“But why didn’t I change at all any other night?” Sonic asked.

“I’m getting to that,” Tails explained. “You see, tonight is a full moon. Dark Gaia’s power is directly linked to the night, and I believe that Dark Gaia’s influence becomes stronger with the full moon.”

“So the power of the full moon is what brought out the tiny bit of dark energy I have left,” Sonic said.

“Exactly,” Tails agreed. “So it seems that you’ll only have to deal with this on the full moon.”

Sonic felt slightly relieved, but at the same time he was still upset. “So… any way to get rid of this?” he asked.

“Hmm…” Tails thought, looking back at the data he collected. “I’m not sure. The only way would be to remove the Dark Gaia energy, but I don’t know how we would do that. And there’s so little of it that I don’t even know if we’d be able to get rid of it.”

Sonic’s ears lowered in disappointment. Tails took notice and placed his hand on his brother’s back.

“It’s gonna be ok, Sonic,” he assured. “You’ll only have to worry about it about once a month. Every other night you’ll be the same speedy hedgehog as usual.”

“I know,” Sonic replied. “It’s just…” Sonic stared down at his claws before clenching them into fists.

“Why don’t you go lay down,” Tails suggested. “Just because you’re a werehog doesn’t mean you can’t get a good night’s sleep.”

Sonic nodded. “Yeah, maybe I just need some sleep.”

______________________________________________

Sonic continued life as normal after that. He had to be mindful of the moon phases, but other than that, he was the same hedgehog as before. It had been a few months since that night, and Tails was still the only one who knew. The fox tried to assure Sonic that it wasn’t a big deal and he shouldn’t be afraid to tell his other friends, but Sonic was still hesitant. He had thought back to how people had reacted in the past. Even if they would come to understand, the first impression would still hurt. 

Sonic was good at hiding that side of himself anyway. He had gotten good at getting out of group outings when it was getting late. After all, he could always just use the excuse of he’s Sonic and can’t stay put for too long. His other friends didn’t seem to take much notice. He was still acting like the normal Sonic they all knew, so in their eyes, they didn’t see anything wrong, even if Tails had shown signs of worry.

It was another day like any other. Sonic was out running, making the most of the day since he knew it was going to be a full moon tonight. He got interrupted as he got a call from Tails.

“Hey buddy, what’s going on?” Sonic asked.

“Sonic! Eggman’s robots are attacking the city!” Tails informed. “I don’t think I can get there fast enough so-”

“So you need me to go handle it?” Sonic interrupted.

“Well don’t put it like that,” Tails replied.

“I’m just messing with you,” Sonic said. “Don’t worry, I’m on my way!”

Sonic sprinted off towards the coordinates Tails had sent him. When he got to the city, it seemed that most of the people had already evacuated. Sonic smirked.

“Great, we can just jump straight to the action!”

Sonic curled into a ball and spin dashed into the nearest robots, destroying three of them in an instant. He took a moment to congratulate himself before hitting another one with a homing attack. Sonic landed back on the ground and was about to go in for another attack, but stopped as he noticed a missile heading towards him. Sonic turned around, ready to dodge the attack, but was stopped as the missile was hit by something else, sending it flying towards a different robot. Sonic looked over and saw a familiar black hedgehog landing on the ground.

“You almost got blown up,” Shadow commented.

“Shadow! Nice to see you too,” Sonic greeted. “And I would’ve dodged it. I am the fastest thing alive after all.”

“Hmph. We don’t have time for banter. Eggman is sending more robots as we speak. We need to take these ones out before we get overwhelmed.”

Sonic nodded. “Let’s get to it then.”

The two hedgehogs quickly got to work destroying each of the robots terrorizing the city. The two of them were able to make quick work of them. These clearly weren’t the doctor’s best models. They finally destroyed every single robot in the area and Sonic did a little stretch after finishing up.

“Woo! That was a pretty good workout, don’t you think?” Sonic asked.

“It’s not over yet,” Shadow reminded, pointing to the second army of robots heading their way.

“Aw, I guess I sort of forgot,” Sonic replied. He looked at the sky real quick, checking to see how late it was getting. Shadow looked over at the blue hedgehog, raising an eyebrow as he saw him just staring up at the sky.

“What are you doing?” Shadow asked. “We’ve got robots to deal with.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sonic replied. We’ve got plenty of time, he decided. 

Sonic quickly readied a spin dash as the robots got closer. Shadow followed, spin dashing at the robots as well. They continued the fight, destroying every robot in their way. It had seemed that they had finally finished fighting all of them after a long battle.

“Whew! Eggman’s making it hard on us this time,” Sonic commented.

“Nothing that we can’t handle,” Shadow said with a smirk.

Sonic smiled. “Aw, there’s that smile,” he said. “You know, sometimes I forget that you know how to smile.”

Shadow rolled his eyes. “And sometimes I forget that you actually know how to stop talking every once in a while.”

Sonic let out a laugh. Shadow smiled at him, but stopped as he noticed one last robot they had missed. It was much larger than the rest of them and readied a shot aimed for the hedgehogs.

Sonic stopped laughing and noticed the robot as well, but he was a little late as it already launched its attack. Shadow quickly teleported away, not even thinking to grab Sonic. Sonic tried to jump out of the way, but was unable to get away in time. The blast knocked him into a nearby building and was strong enough to knock the hedgehog out. Shadow reappeared and looked around, quickly realizing his mistake as he saw Sonic’s unconscious body laying on the ground.

“Sonic!” Shadow shouted. 

He turned back to the robot who was reading another attack. Shadow glared at it and dashed forward. He could feel the chaos energy sparking through his body as his rage grew. As he approached the robot, he jumped into the air. His body started to glow a bright red.

“Chaos… BLAST!” Shadow shouted as the chaos energy exploded from his body, completely obliterating the robot. Shadow landed back on the ground and stood back up. He took a moment to catch his breath before turning towards Sonic and running over to him. He picked up his body, shaking him slightly to try and wake him up, but the blue hedgehog was completely knocked out.

“Crap,” Shadow mumbled under his breath. He looked around. It would be getting late soon and Shadow had used a lot of his energy to destroy that robot. He wouldn’t be able to get Sonic to G.U.N. HQ quick enough to have him rest there. Even then, he didn’t know if he’d trust the other agents enough to let Sonic rest there. Shadow figured it would be best to find a nearby inn to stay for the night.

Although the city they were currently in had evacuated, Shadow could still get Sonic to a different city nearby. So he carried Sonic and ran as fast as he could to the nearest inn that he could find. He quickly checked in, not bothering to answer any extra questions the people were asking like ‘Are you Shadow the Hedgehog?’ or ‘Is that Sonic? What happened to him?’

Shadow didn’t even realize that he had gone to one of the fancier places at first until he entered the room and realized that the main bedroom was separated from the rest of the place. Shadow quickly set Sonic on the bed, making sure to cover him up. He even grabbed the pillow and fluffed it up, not trusting the inn staff to do a good enough job for Sonic. After giving Sonic a gentle touch on the forehead, he finally decided to leave him be. He turned the light off before leaving Sonic alone.

Some time had passed and Sonic slowly opened his eyes. He sat up quickly as he realized he was laying in a bed. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. He noticed the door and slowly opened it to try and see if he could figure anything out. Sonic started to get shaky and quickly closed the door as he realized what was about to happen.

“No no no…” Sonic started to panic. He ran over to the window and saw the full moon starting to appear. “No no no!” Sonic backed up and fell to the ground as the pain started. “AGH!” he screamed. He bumped into the night stand, knocking the lamp onto the ground.

Shadow was in the other room on the couch, reading through different pamphlets that were left in the room. Shadow blinked as he heard the commotion coming from the bedroom. He initially thought Sonic had simply gotten up and knocked something over due to his clumsiness. He decided not to bother him until he heard a loud, grumbling scream. Shadow quickly stood up and walked over to the bedroom.

He opened the door and looked around. The light was still off, so it was hard to make anything out, but he could see a large figure sitting in the corner of the room. There was a quiet growling noise coming from the creature. The beast turned to Shadow, staring at him with bright green eyes.

“Chaos-” Shadow began to prepare an attack.

“No no! Shadow it’s me!” The creature stood up, panicked.

Shadow stepped back slightly before turning on the light. The beast was larger than he was and had dark blue fur. He had large claws and large fangs. Shadow just stared at him in shock.

“Sonic?” he questioned.

Sonic lowered his ears and nodded. “Y-yeah…”

“What the hell is going on here?” Shadow asked.

“It’s… it’s a long story,” Sonic explained. “I didn’t want you to see me like this! Why did you have to bring me here?”

“You were unconscious! What was I supposed to do, leave you alone in the city?”

“I don’t know, maybe!” Sonic replied. “Just-” Sonic sat back down, curled up. “This wasn’t supposed to happen…”

Shadow stared at Sonic. Despite the hedgehog’s larger build, he had never seen Sonic look so weak before. He walked up to him.

“What’s going on?” he asked again, his voice much more calm this time.

“It… happened during the Dark Gaia incident,” Sonic explained. “I absorbed some of Dark Gaia’s energy and turned into… this thing. But after we defeated Dark Gaia, I figured this form would be gone forever, but…” Sonic let out a sigh. “Now whenever the full moon comes out, I turn back into the werehog.”

Shadow looked out the window, noticing the full moon on display. He then looked back at Sonic who still seemed very upset. Shadow sat down next to him.

“How come you never told me about this?” he asked.

Sonic looked over at Shadow before looking away again. “I was scared,” he admitted. “I… don’t like other people seeing me like this. Tails… is the only other one who knows about this.”

“Were you scared I’d see you as a monster?” Shadow questioned.

“You literally tried to chaos spear me as soon as you saw me,” Sonic reminded.

“It was a moment of weakness,” Shadow admitted. “I’m sorry that I scared you like that.” He placed his hand on Sonic, somewhat surprised at how soft his fur was. 

Sonic sighed again. “That’s pretty much everyone’s first impression. They think I look like a monster.”

“Well you’re not a monster,” Shadow assured. “So if that’s what you were thinking, then you can stop.”

Sonic looked at Shadow again, but he still wasn’t smiling.

“Look, I get what it’s like,” Shadow continued. “There’s still people who are afraid of me. And… it does hurt sometimes. But you can’t let those thoughts drag you down. The only one who decides who you are is you.”

Sonic seemed to lighten up slightly. He thought about Shadow’s words for a bit.

“Sonic, don’t let this get you down, ok?” Shadow said. “It’s not a good look for you to be this sad about something.”

Sonic chuckled. “Right. That’s your job.”

Shadow shoved Sonic slightly. 

“Hey, I see that smile,” Sonic pointed out.

“I’m only smiling because you’re smiling.”

Sonic laughed again. Even with his gruffer voice, Sonic’s laugh was still nice to hear.

“Good, I got you laughing again,” Shadow said, standing up. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Sonic admitted, standing up to join Shadow. He looked down at the lamp he had broken earlier. “Huh. Guess we’ll have to pay for that.”

“We’ll deal with it later,” Shadow assured. “We’ve had a long day. We need some rest.”

Sonic nodded. “Yeah. I think I could go for some rest.”

#sonic #sth #fanfiction #sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the werehog

[orokay]

Hello, orokay!! I've adored your art for years now and I was wondering if you have any tips on how to draw and paint/render scars? I can never seem to get them to look right, any help is appreciated! Hope you're having a good year!

Hi anon, thank you so much!

Sorry this took a minute to reply to, I've been trying to figure out how I wanted to respond. For me, a lot of questions about how I do certain things are kind of tricky bc generally the answer is 'idk I just try things and tweak it until it feels right' and I don't really feel qualified to give art advice bc most of the time I'm just making stuff up as I go, but I know that's not really a helpful answer 😭

My art style tends to lean towards simple and stylized, so for scars I try to limit them to three colors at most, less if I feel like I can get away with it. It also depends a lot on the scar since there are different types of scars. Usually how I pick the colors I use is: one color darker than than the skin tone (shading), one slightly lighter than the skin tone for the injured flesh and occasionally an even lighter color for highlights. I'll include some examples under the cut. But please please please keep in mind wrt scars 99.9% of the time I'm just winging it and going off of what I think looks cool, I don't know anything about the science behind how people scar so please do your own research if you want to be accurate.

I'd say when approaching/researching scars you need to consider a few things:

Skin color of the person- Scars look different on different skin colors and different people scar differently. I think this is one of the biggest things to remember! Color pick for the scar based off of the character's skin tone and shade. The color you use for scar tissue on a person w/ light skin is going to look unrealistic and out of place on person with dark skin, doubly so if the undertone of their skin is different (ie. warm vs neutral vs cool undertones). It's so important to look up references because everyone scars differently and skin type can make a huge difference on how a person scars.

Color of the person's blood- same vibe as with blushing/lip color/etc. if your character has blue blood, the scar likely isn't going to be pink. This probably isn't something you're going to have to keep in mind a lot, but just in case. This also kind of ties into the first one because if a character has a non-human skin tone, like blue, and red blood then the scar is probably going to be more of a purple tone, for example.

Type of scar- think about the injury and what kind of scar would result from it. I'm not a doctor so idk how scarring works and generally go off of vibes, but if you want to make it as accurate as possible, I'd suggest looking up images of scars from whatever type of injury you want your character to have. I used to work with dogs and I scar easily so I have a lot of bite/scratch scars. Some of them are lighter than my skin and raised while others that were less deep are darker and on the surface of the skin (aka no texture). My brother has a very deep dog bite scar that's left a dent in his skin and light, pink and shiny scar tissue. Basically, if you know you have the stomach for it, I 100% suggest looking up examples of the type of injury you're thinking of so you can see how that injury tends to scar. Is it hypertrophic? Atrophic? Keloid?

How was it treated and how old is the scar?- is it a burn scar that received skin grafts? is it a surgical scar? stitches? did it heal well or was there infection? All of these things can change how a wound heals and scars. New scars are going to be much more stark, especially if they're still healing, and most scars fade over time. Examples under the cut...

Some examples from my drawings over the years:

OC w/ healed burn w/ skin graft stylized and very simplified // really simple, sketchy scars on Narci:

This iteration of Blue's blood is green so the scar on her cheek is green (we're going to ignore her lips and the flush on her ears lol):

raised scars on nikora and blair's cheeks:

#answered asks #i cannot stress enough i go off of vibes 99.9% of the time im not an expert anything i get right is purely by accident #pleaaaaaaaaaase do research #if anyone else has actual medical knowledge and wants to give tips/point anon towards resources please feel free to add on #i'd like to learn more too ^^

[drones-of-innocence]

"Pedro Pascal is making me want to write edgy Mario fic"

Now i am very, very curious of what you would write because you usually write such fluffy Mario fics 👀

Oh you mean from this? 🤭

I do love writing sweet fluffy stuff more than anything else, but I can't deny there has always been at least a little bit of an animal inside that wants to explore some darker concepts 😳

I actually have a couple of ideas that go in a darker direction, but none of them have been fully fleshed out exactly. Sometimes I'll get started writing on something only for my muse to abandon it in favor of something else. So I'll just write down as much of the idea as it comes to me in the hopes that my darting, buzzing fly of a brain will come back to it sometime. It's worked before with stories like with Love Story, What They Don't See (which I have more plans for 👀) or Fresh Air particularly. But what I have published is not even half of the ideas I want to write 😭 So sometime maybe I'll end up having the inspiration (and nerve) to fully commit to a darker storyline, maybe even one with a bad ending.

For the Pedro Pascal (😩💘) thing in particular, a post-apocalyptic Mushroom Kingdom setting would be so fun to explore. I automatically think of the Mushroomy Kingdom stage from Super Smash Bros Brawl where everything was bleak and uninhabitable. Assuming it's a sort of "bad ending" premise where Bowser successfully takes over the Mushroom Kingdom in a disastrous war and Princess Peach was forced into hiding, that kind of leads me to try to fill in the hole of who Mario is in this story and why he doesn't know of her already since he apparently has notoriety himself, albeit at a possibly more illicit angle. Maybe he's a stranger to the Mushroom Kingdom (whether he's from our Earth or not) and the MK was sort of a mysterious/mythical state to the rest of the world before it was taken over by Bowser. How he wound up there might have to do with being stuck or trapped or even an attempt at retiring from the life he had before. (smuggling? bounty hunting? etc)

Maybe Peach is trying to get to the legendary Rainbow Road because it would allow her to access her magic power that has been severed due to Bowser's destruction? So she needs a reliable transport there since she can't navigate the dangerous overworld on her own. If she were able to access her power again, she would easily be able to oust Bowser and return the Mushroom Kingdom to its former lush, peaceful state. And Mario, perhaps a hardened and initially cold person due to rough experiences/loss, is called upon to assist this vulnerable character (just like Mando or Joel 🥺)

I'm so weak for an initial "refusal of the call" trope where the calloused character ends up changing his mind *of his own accord* (even if he pretends its a nuisance) just by virtue of experiencing the warmth and life of the innocent character. It accesses something soft inside him that he maybe believed was dead, or that he was never allowed/able to have before in the first place. In this case, Mario would see Peach's gentle kindness toward her suffering citizens and even towards himself, and it would open up a new world of possibilities in his heart 🤧💖

Along the way, they get assistance from old friends with Toad and Yoshi, and maybe even a bittersweet reunion with Luigi who has holed himself up for survival in an abandoned mansion. And as they get closer and closer to being able to travel down Rainbow Road, it becomes clear that a grand battle with Bowser is inevitable 🔥 And Mario, with newly accessed warmth and love in his heart, doesn't hesitate to march into battle for a Princess who believes in him 🌟

#This was long whoops!! #Thank you for the ask!! 😍 #There is an edginess to Mario that I hint at already in my fics #A sense of shame and resignation #A bleak outlook about himself #And the world or human nature in general #But Peach is always the one to shift his perspective #Make him see the goodness in people and himself 🥺 #I already love Mando so much for his literal armored approach #That gets shed in small pieces over time with Grogu #I'd do something similar here I think #If I were skilled enough to pull it off rip #Mario being initially callous is something I really want to try my hand at writing #Idk if I'll get to this but it is on my mind #Also just know I was losing my mind when I saw it #Because I'm a Pedro simp and also I literally write Mario fic #I'm gonna start introducing myself that way tbh #ANYway thank you for paying close attention to my tags 😂 #I have a lot of thoughts and I don't like taking up a lot of space #So they're sort of “read if you want to” #Nice to know someone likes to follow my thoughts #🥺 #istadris #Ask #Diary of Drones #Mario #Princess Peach #Pedro Pascal 😍 #SNL #Mareach

[kaveuh]

HEWO EI i need to fill my quota and hope this isnt too out of reach for something too specific </3 but may i ask hcs for kanata n chaiki (separate) with a menhera s/o who also dresses a lot in yamikawa and dark girly fashion :") I NEED TO STOP ASKING ONLY FOR KANATA N CHIAKI FROM YOU LOL but i like how you write them (loud sobfing). of course this is the same anon as the one who asked for the sanrio hcs because erm </3 doesnt dark jfashion somehow just go hand in hand w sanrio sometimes. they even released some jirai kei kuromi n mymelo stuff like im in tears /pos

BESIDES THIS HOPE UR DOING WELL!! ive also been around your blog a lot so im sorry i forgot to say but if you note down anons then lemme be darlingnon (=v=)~ﾌﾌ♪

a/n — HAHA IT’S OKAY DW! also the new sanrio collab cards makes me want to throw up /pos i love niki as cinnamoroll i might cry tears of JOY. I ALSO GOT MAYOI’S CARD ?! I SCREAMED SO LOUD AHHHDHDHCJF

also idk much about menhera / yami kawaii fashion </3 i tried to make it as detailed and clear as possible. BUT I HAD FUN WRITING THIS TYSM FOR REQUESTING ANON <3

CHIAKI & KANATA WITH A MENHERA S/O ! ☆

genre — fluff !

warning(s) — none

the first time CHIAKI had seen you in a different outfit other than your uniform, mans is BEWILDERED. though he is someone who doesn’t really care whether your fashion sense is great or not, chiaki gets extremely giggly whenever he sees you dress-up, no matter the occasion.

in all honesty, bro dresses so… simple LMAO, not that it’s a bad thing. his unit mates love to point out how your sense of fashions differ from each other and it’s kind of hilarious since he’s just getting dragged.. 😭

AHH OK BUT IMAGINE SHOPPING WITH HIM THOUGH? he’s literally so happy that you decided to take him with you when you wanted to buy new clothes, although he knows nothing about menhera fashion himself. he’s a very patient man when it comes to you— if you want to try on new clothes, go for it! no complaints from him no matter how long it takes. he’s also willing to rate outfits that you’ve come up with. you want to spend hours at a specific store? he’s looking around with you and waiting until you find clothes that you are happy with. high chance he’ll also pay for you, he’s not taking no for an answer. (unless you beat him into it, and he’ll sulk for a good 10 minutes or more.)

SPEAKING OF CLOTHING AND SHOPPING… chiaki will suggest matching outfits! he’s so enthusiastic about it as well… will definitely force midori or kanata to take pictures of the two of you.

HE WILL SCREAM IF YOU EVER SEND A PICTURE OF YOUR FITS TO HIM. will start malfunctioning and yelling at kanata, giggling and kicking his feet about how adorable and pretty you look! if he’s at home, chiaki will send one back in a similar outfit with the clothes that he bought when he hung out with ryusetai at the mall. SOBS

like chiaki, KANATA is also one who doesn’t really care about fashion outside of idol work and stuff. he just naturally dresses nice and has drip lol (bros beautiful)

kanata LOVES doing your makeup, especially the undereye blush because he thinks it’s satisfying for some reason LMAO. if he’s free, he’s most definitely going all out on your makeup AND will pick out an outfit for you, which he prefers pastel colors instead of the darker ones, so he’ll usually go with those.

he also doesn’t mind matching with you! it’s just not as often like with chiaki, since he doesn’t want to ruin the outfit when he goes out to float in the water (again). BUT HE’S DOWN TO GO ON A DATE WITH MATCHING FITS! he also helps you put on certain accessories and bandaids that fits in with the aesthetic.

kanata’s also a great partner to go shopping with BECAUSE HE’S JUST FOLLOWING YOU AROUND AND NOT COMPLAINING. kind of just,,, letting you do your thing and stuff because he loves seeing you buy and look for clothes that you enjoy wearing. if you’re changing or trying out some clothes, he’s waiting outside the stall, waiting for you to do the grand reveal and he WILL HYPE YOU UP AND TAKE MULTIPLE PICTURES OF YOU!

he’s not as expressive as chiaki, but he will go crazy in his head when you send a picture LMAO he’s like.. “?!?!!? holh?!?! my s/o is os.hfs / sso… PRETTY?!?! AGHHH” and will probably unconsciously start gripping on his pillowcase and sheets trying not to kick his feet out of excitement LMAO

#ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars x you #enstars x reader #chiaki morisawa x reader #chiaki x reader #chiaki morisawa enstars #chiaki morisawa #kanata shinkai #kanata shinkai enstars #kanata shinkai x reader #enstars x y/n #ensemble stars x you #ensemble stars x y/n