#I just really want to get another one posted because for some reason my brain/thoughts have been trying to murder me lately

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[clownboymcchucklefuck]

Gonna be taking a short break from tumblr for a few days to focus on working on theory drafts. I've been getting sidetracked lately and yeah ajskejbfi-

[mayasaurusss]

Hello, I really liked the way you write about Jinx, can you please write about how femme! the reader and Isha fall into a trap and as a result, while protecting Isha, the reader is injured and Jinx goes into her killer mode (you don’t have to write if you don’t want to) you can just write aftercare if you want

A helping hand

A/N: and here it's finally done! I could have made this oneshot quicker and shorter but then I got chaught up in writing it... and I woke up eight days later with this in my drafts😂. I don't ususally like how I handle stories, but I think that this one turned out pretty good. As mentioned in another post, it's very heavily plot driven and it's a wopping eleven pages worth of writing. My grammar, as always, might not be the top gamma. I hope you guys will enjoy it! Also this was mixed with something someone suggested on ao3!

Contains: female reader, violence, murder, mentions of saliva and vomiting, hurt and comfort, very heavily plot driven, happy ending with a happy family. Lenght: 6k/ 11 pages.

The limited air inside the vent makes you choke on your breath, chemicals and smoke filling your lungs and hollowing your brain. A loud sound echoes inside the metal hull, alerting every one of your senses. "Isha! Be careful!" you whisper-yell at the kid, who's crouching in front of you, placing her hat back on.

She just huffs in response, rolling her eyes before continuing her tour inside Zaun's vents. Isha has not been too fond of you since you entered her life; one reason could be that she thought she had to compete with you for Jinx's attention. The other reason, maybe, is that you were from topside. Piltover, The City of Progress. The city who exploited and hurt the poor citizens of the Undercity. Avid hands commanding from atop marble skyscrapers, grinning smiles sucking away the air of the lanes.

It's no wonder you're not Isha's favorite; Sevika too seemed to have a disdain for you, either because of your privileged position or for the way Jinx was distracted and dreamy when you were near.

To ingratiate yourself into Isha's favours and to make it at least somewhat pleasant for both of you to be near each other, you agreed to follow her in a walk through the lanes.

Jinx had invited you into her own private lair, after much convincing on her part. One day, she just swept you up and brought you down with her, making you walk through fissures, alleys and neon lit streets.

"You should have a tour of The Lanes, y'know, to learn how life's like down here" a flicker of a spark reflecting in her goggles as she made some of her obscure machine-thingies. "So give me one" you said, prompting Jinx to hum in thought. "I am busy today, and Sev' is too. Besides, I don't think you'll enjoy each other's company" she glanced at Isha, who was drawing Stinkmaw on her notebook. "You'll just have to settle for Isha" the kid propped her head up at the mention of her name, already looking with stars in her eyes at Jinx, not aware of your previous conversation. "What do you say Isha? Want to have fun with your new friend? Give her a tour of the Undercity?", Isha sized you from head to toe with a snarl on her lips, eyes moving between you and Jinx while her face became more and more agitated. "Come on, she's not that boring" Jinx moved back to her work, sparks flying and lit up her face, "I should know". Your face grew hot with her words, remembering what happened between you two just weeks prior. Isha gave a disgusted 'ew', before Jinx turned her head to watch the kid, a shadow of anger in her eyes. "No excuses! Come on, just go around a bit, become friends!".

"Jinx I, I don't think this is a wise idea. I mean, Isha is just a kid: what if something happens? I-" Jinx interrupted you, her voice almost lost between the screeching sounds of metal scraps flickering sparks between each other. "You'll both be fine. Isha is a smart kid, she'll get out of any situation. As for you..." she turned to you, a teasing glint in her eyes, "...will you be able to keep up with her?".

'No, not at all' you answer to her mental image, struggling to keep your pace behind Isha. The kid is fast inside these tunnels, and your body is not accustomed to their narrow spaces and to the flow of smoke and waste. The metal feels light and shaky under your weight, giving you the impression that at the slightest of pressure, you will sink beneath and break your ribs into the concrete of just another of Zaun's alleys. You steady on, carefully applying your weight where each border of the metal tubes meet, following the shadow of Isha.

After what feels like ages, you finally spot the end of a tunnel, light shining on the dirty buildings giving it a green hue. Isha crawls towards it, leaving you behind in the dusty tunnels, prompting you to follow her quickly. The kid has already jumped in the street below, adjusting her hat on, turning her back to you while she begins to walk away. You take in a deep breath, calculating the height of your jump, before falling messily on the concrete.

"Ack, shit" Isha gives you a dirty look, "What?". She just rolls her eyes, before continuing on, not waiting for you. The Undercity is just what you expected: crowds of people fill it's street, smoking and squaring you up; sellers shout to lure in buyers, presenting their merch of metal husks, hundreds of different flavours of tobacco and pieces of meat that you'd rather not know from what they came from. At the far corners, gang groups threaten and push against each other, their blades glinting with a malicious look. The streets are lit by bright neon signs, filled with all possible smells and gasses, overcrowded to the point that you're short of breath. Distantly, you can hear the sound of machinery evermoving, of water and air and of shipments departing from shore. The city itself beats and pumps, like a living heart.

Everything is suffocating; too loud, too much. And what's worse is, everyone knows that you don't belong. Their eyes are envious, angry, a dangerous hate barely hidden beneath their scleras. Hell, Isha, the kid who is known to have a kind heart, can barely hide it. For a moment, too caught up in your mind and it's worries, you miss Isha turning around, entering a dark hallway. You follow her blue locks until you're far from people, now only surrounded by high walls and some couples making out in a corner. On one wall there are signs of damage: claws and dents and what looks to be a... strange green goop staining the bricks, along with scraps of metal of an exoskeleton.

You find Isha sitting at the corner where the street opens, back against the wall. You are not too sure what she is doing: after all, she has proved to be rather uninterested in you. What you don't realize, not at first anyway, is that she had run through the crowd into the alley to lure you away from that noisy hell so you'd have time to get used to it. Sliding down next to her, your clothes drag down the dirt and dust of years behind them. Silence feels heavy above your head, the distant sounds of the crowd the only thing keeping you at least a bit sane.

Isha has found a pastime in rolling the hem of her hat on the ground, trying to make a perfect spin with it. The sounds of metal against concrete screech inside the hallway, attracting more than just one pair of eyes. You can feel Isha's reluctance to begin so close to you, probably thinking to herself that it was a mistake waiting for you. When the silence feels too heavy, then you finally speak. "Isha...listen" the hat spinning stops abruptly, it's hem catched between Isha's thumb and index finger. "I know you don't like me" she's surprised that you decided to face the problem right away; it's not something your people are known for. "You've made it all too clear these past days. I know you are wary of me; I know the Undercity is wary of us". The kid's eyes are now on you, studying, squaring you up, detecting any lies that you may hide under your sweet words.

"But... I am not my city. I know what you have been through and I am..." you falter for a moment, thinking that you're starting to sound a little too guilty and invested in this, and that she may recognize this as insincere. "What I meant to say is... I would like to be your friend, if you want to".

Isha doesn't answer you right away, but you see a small smile spread on her lips. You breathe a sigh of relief at successfully bringing down her walls.

She jumps back up, extending her hand to yours, palm open and a curious smile on her face. You take it, careful to not push your weight down on her before you too stand up.

"Come on, let's go home. This is good enough of a tour for me today", you take Isha's hand, ready to walk back to Jinx's, before something clutters inside the hallways, spreading its dull, hollow metal sound everywhere. The sound gets closer and closer, the item of its origin stopping its course at your feet. It's a cylinder shaped, stubby looking object; drawn on its surface are what you recognize to be Jinx's drawings, imitating a grinning gaping mouth of some evil creature. The red light you are so familiar with, the one which with Jinx blows her enemies to bits, is off.

"Well, look what we have here. The runt of that crazed bitch and Piltover's finest trash". From under the fuming tubes, a tall, scruffy looking man shows up. His hair is in a buzz cut style, thin muscles tightly attached to his bones, making him look starved and unkept. Black tattooed run over his forehead and cheeks, giving his sulken eyes even more of a crazed look. His goons all show up after him, exiting from their hidden spots. "What do you want?" you try to sound though, but the wavering of your voice only gives away your fears. Isha hides behind you, clutching tightly at the fabric of your pants.

"Oh we don't want anything from you. But you see..." he reaches to fish something out of his pants. You see it before he shows it: the hem of a knife. He slides the blade out of its sheath, glimmering dangerously in the dark. "...that darling bitch of yours took something from us. Well, to be honest, someone. Someone very dear to our group" you look in between you and Isha, then at the distance between you and the goons, trying to think of an escape.

"What do you mean? How do you know Jin-" he laughs creepily, a little too high for your tastes, echoing between the walls. "How do I know Jinx? Everyone knows Jinx!" he gesticulates with the knife still in his hand, dangerously close to hitting himself in the eye with it. He inspects the blade with something dark inside his thoughts, dulling the colour out of his eyes. With a creepy and disturbing smile on his lips, he runs his finger along the line, blood trickling down its shape. He seems to take a sick kind of pleasure from seeing red staining the metal. "I gotta give it to her though, she really aimed high: fucking someone from Piltover is something none of us would dirty ourselves trying to".

A vein under your skin pumps blood into your brain faster, giving you the prospect of an annoying headache, "Watch that tone-". "Never thought that that small, smart runt would become what she is today. Powder really outdid herself", you don't miss the cruel smirk which paints his lips, enjoying infecting your relationship with Jinx. "Powder?" the name doesn't ring a bell, and you're left with the man's ominous eyes peering into your heart, telling you that 'you don't know anything'.

"Oh look, trust runs so deep between you two that you don't even know her real name! Did you really think a parent could ever name their child 'Jinx'?" the rest of his group laughs and mocks you like their leader is, like a hoard of sheep follows their shepard. "I don't need to know her name. If there is a reason why Po- Jinx is keeping her real name a secret from me, I am not gonna pry it open from her" you can feel your heart pump blood faster into your veins, that small headache becoming stronger and stronger as anger takes hold of your actions. "Mhm? Just like she kept her family's deaths a secret?" those words feel heavy when he speaks them, clearly holding some truth behind them. You try to remain calm but anger and fear are affecting your judgment. "W-What? What the fuck are you talking about?" their ugly laughs fill your ears, only aiding in alimenting the fire at your heart. "After our little...fight, he changed. He started to hang out with the wrong people, doing the wrong things..." slowly, ever so slowly, all of them start to circle around you. One, two, four, six of them, sporting grinning smiles, stalking you like hyenas.

"But he would have been the same has always, even if he had become dumber than he was. He would have been alive too, at this moment, if Vander hadn't intervened". None of what this man is saying makes sense to you. He's talking to you, but his words are meant for others: for his friends, for Isha, for Jinx. You, once again, are reminded that you're not welcome here. In their eyes, hate and hunger swirl, creating a whirlwind that sucks away at your courage, "Just...what do you want from me?!".

"Jinx and that sister of hers took our friend from us. Our boss. Now-" with mastered precision, he makes the blade jump from his hands, now it's tip pointing towards the ground. Something that you can only describe as burning hatred and killing intent paints his features, before he screams a rallying cry, "It's our turn taking everything from her!".

That is enough for the whole lot of them to pounce. One moment, and they are all on you; punching, kicking, twisting your hair in their grasp, snarling and mocking. In the confusion you lose Isha, not being able to distinguish her blue locks in between all that green and grey. For a split second, after they consume their gloves on you, no one is holding you down. You take the occasion to slip away from their grasps, falling backwards into the opening street. You take a second to choose what to do, and as you run towards the crowd once again, following where you assume Isha went, a feeling of anger rises in your stomach. The sound of the busy street echoes, a distant reminder that you have a life to return to, but something tugs at your heart to look at them in the eyes. Blood pumps fast in your veins, alerting every muscle, every bone, every fiber that danger is near, you need to go, but your heart, brain, the pride you take in begin still alive overtakes your judgment. You stop to look at them, the prospect of a challenge in your eyes, of saying 'Look at me!' and incite them to follow 'I am still alive!'.

They look like ravenous beasts, hunched backs and gleaming eyes, angry snarls on their faces, hate coursing through their veins. The leader of the group, the scruffy looking one, fishes something from his back and places it on the bottom of his face: it's a mask, made with grey metal and sprayed with fake golden accents to give it a more classy look. On the side there's a circular opening with a single point in the centre. He takes a syringe and inserts it in the hole, pushing the top down and filling the hollow cavities of the mask with purple gasses. He takes in a deep breath, eyes rolling backwards, before his body goes through a strange change, twitching and moving like he had been shocked. When he looks back at you his eyes are a deep, neon pink, the same shade of colour that paints Jinx's eyes. He moves towards you, pushing and snarling at his friends like a dog with rabies, breaking their bones on the walls, before, with all the air in his lungs, screams, "I'm going to enjoy skinning that piltie's clean skin away from your body!".

You don't make it far before, with an uncanny precision, he throws his blade towards you like a spear, metal sinking inside of your left side, dangerously close to your kidney. A gasp leaves your body before you fall on the floor, blood oozing from the wound. Hundred of needles pierce at your flesh, blood paints the concrete and your mind fuses with the flesh of your brain. Then it all stops; you're back in the alley, cold spreading from the wound throughout your body, followed by a unbearable heat. The blade is snatched from your side, an ear shattering scream erupting from your throat. He is on top of you, already inching the knife to the base of your neck, planning to stab you there, wanting to see the life leaving your body in the most gruesome way possible. "I can't wait to see the look on your girlfriend when I am going to bring her the eyes of her most loved!".

"Bye bye, piltie" you brace yourself for your end; you can almost already feel the knife lodged in your throat, but nothing happens. You hear the sound of a metal hulk resonating in the hallway, before he is knocked down by something thrown with force against his face. You recognize it to be the exoskeleton of the arm you saw before, lying around. The rod which was the building foundation for its making has been thrown on the man's ugly bat-like nose, making him bleed red.

Isha stands behind you, still in launching position, before she runs over to you and tries to help you up. When you do, white behind your eyelids blinds you, pain making your head spin. He gets up again, an animalistic wild look in his eyes. He moves again, muscles hardened with purple veins running along them, drool falling down the space between the mask and his skin. Before he can assault you again, Isha throws something at him: the bomb he himself kicked before, the one Jinx had made, moves through the air, soon to be the second object to hit his ugly face today. He recognizes the object and pales when he sees a red light zipping faster and faster, its grinning mouth inching closer to him.

A colorful light shines on the walls, paint of blue and pink shades falling down like rain; sparks of fire following the natural course of an explosion, fading out of existence a moment later. You run with Isha, hand in hand, away from this horrid place. This time, you don't look back.

A trickle of sweat falls down Jinx's temple while her eyes are focused on connecting two tubes of plastic together. Electricity flows through them, sending sparks flying dangerously close to her skin, before they are connected by the metal snaps on each of their ends. Jinx smiles as her creation takes its first movements, loudly clapping two copper coloured, round, small discs together, before stopping once again. Her fingers twist the key positioned on its back and the mechanic monkey comes to life once again. When her work is finally done, she puts it next to the other one she made hours prior.

The one meant for Isha is coloured with golden accents and decorated with graffitis all over. When turned on, it quickly smashes the plates against each other and plays an off-tune punk song if the button on its right leg is pushed; its eyes are golden, mimicking Isha's own. The one meant for you is far softer than the first: soft shades of pastel mix together with Jinx's characteristic pink, swirling your colours together. Instead of plates, it has a small, roughly knitted red heart in its hands. The left eye shines bright pink, while the other mirror's yours. There are no graffiti on it, except for a small heart on its chest, one near 'your' eye and a 'Jinx' on its left side.

She can't wait to see the look on your eyes when you will see it. She could never quite well express affection like other people do, so giving you gifts was what she did best. Just as she dreams of your face, she hears quick, loud steps coming closer and closer to her. "If you are Caitlyin, I appreciate your obsession with me, but I am in the middle of-" she recognizes Isha's laboured breaths and your pained groans before she can finish the phrase. And when she turns around, her face pales and her blood freezes. Isha has a panicked look to her face, one that she had never seen before; and you? Sweat falls with heavy tears down your face, the shade of your skin so much paler than it usually is, making you look almost dead. Your hand is tightly clutched on your side, where your hand is stained with...blood?

In a fraction of a second, Jinx is on you, hands checking at every curve of your body, focusing on places you might be hurt, while she asks question upon question, filling the air with a sense of urgency. You can only describe the look in her eyes as pure dread. If you didn't groan with pain every few seconds, you'd think Jinx was the one to have gotten hurt. The next few minutes are a whirlpool of movements and colours, making you spill your lunch on the floor. Soft fabric meets your back, suddenly naked with only your bra to cover your chest. Blood oozes faster out of you and you can feel your conscience leaving. Nothing else besides the red on your skin and the blurred shades of blue and brown exists for you.

"...ont worry, I al... got m... sis...er out of ...ble". When after wetting your wound with water, Jinx presses gauze on your body, you are suddenly brought back to life, violently. It feels like someone is crushing with all their might on you, despite Jinx applying the right pressure to the wound. If someone were to walk in right now hearing your screams, they'd think you were begin murdered. After what finally feels like an eternity, you are lying again on her bed, almost lifelessly. You don't have time to answer Jinx's questions, before you fall into a deep slumber.

Half an hour passes by, and the world seems sealed in a bubble of silence. Nothing moves. nothing makes noise, nothing happens. The only thing that does make noise are the voices in Jinx's head, screaming loudly at her for having let you go alone. 'You should have been there', 'See what happens when you let people into your life?', 'She is hurt. She might die. It's your fault'.

Their loud screams are enough to make one go crazy, but despite how confused she is, Jinx finds a will in herself to speak, to silence them. With her hand, she nudges Isha, getting her attention, and mouths "What happened?".

Isha doesn't answer. Her eyes burn holes into the metal of the helix, bottom lip tightly sealed under her teeth, before something in her breaks. She rushes in Jinx's arms, hiding herself into her chest, crying until the tears are gone and her throat is raw. They stay together, tangled into one another, for a while, until their bodies are cold. "Isha, what happened?" Jinx repeats.

Isha gets up, running over Jinx's desk and returns with two different coloured pencils. On the ground she draws a scene: you and her, hand in hand, with frowning faces; behind you six grinning figures, one taller than the rest. Green splattered on the ground and high walls. Jinx recognizes this place immediatley; she's been there just a couple of weeks prior.

Walking to her desk, she grabs her trusted gun and more than a dozen of bullets. A deep, hateful scowl paints her features, eyes shining brighter than usual.

Tonight, the undercity shines and roars with fervor. Its lights shine bright and the shouts of its inhabitants brings it to life, beating strong, like the heart of a dragon. The city seems to sway in tandem with Jinx's white cape, almost bending to her will but also shielding her, hiding her in its crowds. This is home. This is all Jinx has ever known and ever will. She knows it's streets like the palm of her hand: where to leave her mark, the highest places she can reach from which she can put a bullet in between her enemies eyes, which vents and tunnels will take her back home.

She knows exactly where you had been hurt, and if her predictions are correct, they're waiting for her there. And she's gonna give them what they want. The allway is far too serene to be one of the city's main ways out to the perimeter where steel factories and shipments are. It's uncharacteristically quiet, and by Zaun's rules, that means danger.

Jinx steps on the green gooey substance, observing the dripping of your blood leading to the city's main street, and anger boils inside her at that view. The square is empty, except for a series of tubes and a pitfall to its left. Just as she thought, she begins to hear steps coming into her direction. They had been expecting her.

"If you weren't trying, and failing, to ambush me, I'd say you have a crush" the man behind her simply scoffs, his breath coming out ragged and metallic from under his mask.

Jinx turns around to see a tall man, breathing through what she recognizes to be a mask that henchmens of shady organizations wore to enhance their physical abilities. After a moment, she recognizes blood staining the man's pale skin, half of his left hand blown off, rudimental replaced with a metal prosthesis at the last minute. She can ignore that just fine, but the exposed muscle of his left cheek makes her want to puke. "Wow, and you're even more grotesque than I thought" a cruel anger swirls inside her eyes, her lips curling up in a snarl. "What? Were you so anxious to try to kill me that you couldn't even let your wounds heal?" he laughs at her words, men closing in on her much like they did hours prior to you.

"We were waiting for you, Powder" the mention of that name pangs at her heart. Subtly, she touches the top of her gun, ready to draw it at the first sign of danger. "I figured. How do you know my name?" "A man can know much...if he is in the right place, at the right time" he falls silent when Jinx laughs at his words, anger making a vein in his head pop. "Damn. I thought you were pathetic already, but this whole 'supervillain' talk only makes you seem more of an ass than you already are" much like Jinx, he grabs the death of his knife. At the sign, his men form a half circle around the blue haired criminal, directly closing the only way out. "You won't talk all that shit after I sink my blade in your throat" she can't help but feel compassion for these poor bastards. Faintly, she can already feel their blood falling on her skin while putting bullets between their eyes. "I would like to see you try" she changes her body stance, right side facing them while she takes out her gun with her left hand, making a show of placing the bullets in. Unlike what she thought, they do not follow her; instead, the leader seems relaxed as ever. His dark eyes reflect hers and for a second Jinx can see a dangerous, maniacal glint in them and a cruel grin on his lips.

"Oh I did try, and succeeded, with your little piltie bitch-girlfriend" her breathing stops, heart missing a beat, and time seems to stop for a moment, before it all starts to spin again, faster and faster as she gets angrier and angrier. "You should have heard her screams. The sweetest I've ever heard" she imagines you, clutching at your side, tears in your eyes and spit falling off your mouth; begging for him to leave you alone, to let you go. His features are lost under a black veil and painted over with a red open mouthed smile and tight eyes, not unlike the monsters that she has to fight with every night, as he raises the crimson blade and-.

"Don't you fucking dare" her throath feels raw when she speaks, almost as if she's spewing pure black hatred with each word. "Or what? What are you going to do?" 'He thinks he's the shit, huh?', she thinks, loading the storage to the brim and finally raising the barrel of her gun to aim on his forehead. "I am going to enjoy blowing your brains out"

'No one hurts the people I love'.

The next few seconds are a blur of colours and movement. Her body moves before her mind can understand what is going on. She ducks under something coming at her, kicking at the figure and sending them flying a few feet away from her. Someone pulls at her braids and she yelps, momentarily confused; in a fraction of a second, she blows their hand off, crouching and punching in the face a second figure. The blood on the ground, spilling from the screaming man gives everything a shape again and she's back to the alley. Three men are down, two unconscious and one debilitated. The remaining ones look at her up and down, before the leader nudges them, kicking their shins.

One of them takes a metal rod from his side and swings wildly at Jinx, paying no attention to where he hits. She dodges him with no effort and when he stops momentarily to rest his arm, she knocks his weapon from his hands and hits him in the neck with it, white replacing the colour of his eyes. The other, after seeing the bodies of who used to be his companions, runs away, leaving his leader behind; but before he can make it far, a bullet runs fast through his chest and he falls to the floor, lifeless.

He is the last one standing. "Heh, you call yourself a leader, but you couldn't even save your men". His teeth grind harshly against each other, sending jolts of pain through his mouth, "Shut the fuck up".

But Jinx doesn't. No, she's going to enjoy torturing the life out of this fucker like he did to you. "You didn't even lift a finger. I didn't know Zaun could have such a coward walking through its streets".

He finally snaps, spit flowing out of his mouth as he screams, staining the mask inside "I said shut up!". He breathes in the chemical Jinx is so familiar with, huffing purple clouds out of the mask with a metallic sound. Once again, he feels the rush of the substance in his lungs, blood circling small purple bubbles throughout the body, strengthening his muscles and blanking his mind. But this time, his body starts to twitch and shake, slipping out of his control.

The heart beats faster, the lungs lose their air and move erratically, blood flows freely through his body and bones morph, stretching and breaking and strengthening. His muscles cannot be sustained by the bones anymore, and he falls to the floor. The space inside his ribcage feels tighter, his lungs can only provide so much until finally, his body stops changing and he can stand up, much taller than Jinx now.

The blue haired criminal looks incredibly unimpressed with her opponent's new shape, her eyes studying his moments and planning the next few seconds. That grotesque creature lunges, pushing his whole weight on the top of his body, falling messily when Jinx dodges him. She ducks under a clawed swing, rolling through the space between his legs; then, while he is confused and looking for her, aims at his neck.

The bullet lodges itself into the skin, remaining snugly fit between flesh. The scream that leaves him could have woken up the dead. His nails dig into his neck, trying desperately to yank the bullet out, but to no avail. He turns and turns, like a cat chasing its tail, before dizziness gets to him and he falls to the floor, spilling saliva all over the concrete. When he looks around once again, he is face to face with Jinx's gun, staring at the black hole of the barrel. "You made a mistake crossing me, today. Let this be a lesson" she tilts the gun until it's flat against his forehead. He is not capable of forming words anymore, they die at the base of his throath, leaving only emptiness behind. For a moment, she can see in his eyes something that resembled her, many years ago: a scared animal, one that does not understand what their fate will be. But when her mind reminds her of how viciously he attacked you, and how you are lying in her bed, with no assurance that you'll wake up, anger bubbles once again behind her eyes, clouding her thoughts.

"I'm sorry" is all that he hears, before his body falls to the floor, life leaving his eyes.

Her heart feels cold, as well as her body and mind. Jinx, in her own kind of weird way, is already trying to make peace with the fact that, once she comes back home, you might be gone. All too often in her life she had to come to terms with the death of her loved ones, and all too often, she was directly involved with their demise. She can already picture it: you on the bed, blood staining your clothes and the mattress, Isha on her knees, crying her heart out. She, coming home, seeing your dead body lying on what used to be your little shared creek, shielded by the world, falling to her knees and her heart finally giving out to pain, soon to follow you.

From the crack inside the wall, she can spot the helix of her home, the one she'll soon walk over to reach you. She tries to move, but to no avail: her body doesn't let her. Her muscles are reduced to mush, her legs feel like lead and her heart heaves on her rib cage so much that she had to bend down, clutching at her chest to try and ignore that pain. She could stay here forever, stalling time to this single minute, winding it back over and over and over again, all for the purpose of pretending she's still with you, back in your apartment in Piltover, laying naked on the bed with serene smiles on your faces.

But she can't. Even if she could stop time, right here and now, what could she do? Nothing would change. You'd still be dead, she'd still be heartbroken, the bed would still be cold on your side.

She slips inside the crevice, body molding to its shape, before she is face to face with the entrance to her home. She's so lost in her dread and fear that, for a moment, she doesn't hear the sound of laughter from the inside. When her mind recognized the sound, the pitch of the voice she so longed to hear, tears prickled at her eyes and hope filled her heart. She rushes towards the sound, almost tripping down the helix and falling to her death.

There you are. Laying on the bed, laughing weakly as Isha gesticulates and shouts loudly, imitating some sort of monster. Every little light inside her home has been placed near you, probably by Isha, and lifts your figure with a myriad of colorful shades. You look like a living painting to her.

You can't even process seeing her when she's already on you, touching you everywhere, checking your pulse, grabbing onto your legs to assure herself, to make sure that you...

"Are you... really alive?". You could crumble right here and now under those tearful eyes of hers, so soft and beautiful, looking almost powder blue. You stretch your arms to reach down to her, hugging her close to you; "I am, I am". Jinx takes a moment to process your hug and your words; and when she does, when she's certain that you are alive, that you are okay, her walls crumble away.

She pulls you down towards her, wanting to reciprocate the hug, but impatience gets the better of her and instead pulls herself on the bed, halfway reaching you. Her head rests on your belly, tears staining your clothes when she feels your hand on her back. "I thought-! I thought you-" her words die in her throath when she feels your fingers cupping at her cheek, pulling her to rest on her knees and look into your eyes. "I know, I know. I am okay".

Tears fall freely down her cheeks once again, her bottom lip wavering before she takes refuge in your body, hiding her tears on your lap. "I am so glad! I am so glad...".

Once her tears dry, she pushes herself to look at you, eyes puffy and red. "You are okay" she says, and you're about to assure her once again, but something tells you that she's really talking to herself. She climbs on the bed with you, quickly resting her head on your chest. You can't help but smile at her, ready to cuddle together when you realize you've let someone out of the picture. Isha looks at you both with those big eyes of her, pouting. She knows exactly how to push your buttons.

"Come on kid, get in" come Jinx's words, quickly followed by Isha tangling herself in between your bodies and closing her eyes, sleep already overtaking her. "Man, she sure takes a lot of space" you chuckle, placing your hand on Isha's head and stroking her locks between your fingers, hearing a small contented sigh from her. "Yeah, but she deserves it". A heavy silence fills the space, one that you usually pair up with tranquillity, but who you quickly realize is loud for your lover. "Jinx... I am okay" stopping them from screaming in her ears is hard, but when you are with her, they vanish off of existence. Your voice brings her back to reality, as well as reminding her that you have gotten hurt. Letting herself relax after the storm is something she's not used to. "I know" but she can try.

Starting this conversation will be a pain, you think to yourself, but you need to tell her.

"...He told me your real name, Jinx. And, what you did". Quick snapping sounds, mixed with hushed voices and distant screams fill her head in a second, getting louder by the second. She doesn't find in herself the strength to answer, too tired from the day's events; but nevertheless, listens. She leans on the bed, eyes dark and attentive. The scent of your skin fills her nose and she braces herself for your next words. "But...I don't care".

What?

"I don't know what you've been through, but... I don't need to know. You will tell me if you want to". It all stops. Every sound, every shout or whisper, every heartbeat or pulse of electricity. It seems, for a moment, that all becomes white and quiet, before the world starts to spin again. You feel her strong fingers push you more towards her, one cold hand under your clothes, right where your wound is. "Thank you toots, that means a lot".

Less than twenty seconds of silence later, she's already pestering you with her worries again, "Does it hurt? Do I need to give you som-" you interrupt her, taking her hand in yours. Normally, you would be a little annoyed by her continuous train of words, but she needs to be reassured. She needs to hear it from you, how many times it takes. "I am okay. I just need you here with me".

That seems enough to let her finally bear down her worries and she quickly rests on the bed, eyelids heavy and a yawn in her throath. "...I made you a monkey...gift" she slurrs over her words, already slipping in and out of conciousness. "Oh really?". "Yeah...". You too are about to follow her shortly, and before you let sleep overtake you, you reach behind and place a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight Jinx" she smiles, catching your lips in a quick peck and pushing her nose in the crevice of your shoulders; "Goodnight toots".

Bonus ----------------

When Sevika came home that night, after her usual gambling and drinking out in Zaun's bar, she certainly did not expect to find the messily tangled body of limbs that were you, Jinx and Isha.

As quietly as she possibly can, she takes the chair Jinx sits on while doing her evil scientist machineries and sits next to your bed. Placing a cigar in between your lips and lights it, blowing the smoke away in the opposite direction. She looks back at the bed, multiple coloured lights shading your peacefully sleeping figures. She stays silent for a moment, before she crouches on her knees and shakes the tip of the cigar, firing crumbling pieces of tobacco down on the floor. "They do look pretty cute".

[sanguineterrain]

I am FERAL over your knight Jason thought. FERAL!!! Okay check this out: so Jason's ignoring reader because he feels guilty right? Maybe he tried to give them back but the king wouldn't allow it. But maybe the reader misunderstands and thinks they're not doing their "duties" so they make dinner and breakfast and wash his clothes and basically act like a perfect spouse. How would Jason react? 👀

Dear god... I feel another series coming on...

Idkidk, their dynamic is just really interesting to me! it's probably gonna be a bit of a slow burn here. Feel free to send more thoughts about them. I am rotating these two like a rotisserie chicken in my brain.

knight!jason todd x gn!reader. ambiguous time period but just assume it's olden times *gestures vaguely*. tw arranged marriage/forced relationship but it's complicated! jason is full of angst and self-loathing but he's a sweetie as per usual. original post for context.

****

The soldier—Jason—has said four words since you've arrived.

The first was "here," which he said whilst handing you a mug of milk. He didn't look at you as he said it, and that morning, he left for a five-day long station. You only know that because he said, after handing you the milk, "I've been stationed."

You realized it was five days when you heard his horse galloping towards the house... five days later.

You haven't initiated conversation because though you're a commoner, and no one ever had much hope for you to become anything but an old spinster, you know not to challenge knights.

But this is fucking ridiculous.

"Do you like veal?" you ask on your fourteenth day here.

Jason is about to leave, his boots half laced. He freezes at your question and looks up.

You stand tall, chin up. This is a normal question. A question a wife would ask her husband, except you're not a wife, and you're pretty sure this soldier isn't a husband either.

"I like veal," he says carefully, slowly. "Would you like me to fetch some from the market?"

Now, this is where it gets tricky. When the king summoned you, he made it clear that you were expected to care for Jason under his rules. You don't know how to navigate this world. You know what couples in your village do, but you don't know what's expected of you here.

"Actually, I..." Jason looks at you. His eyes are very green. He has a surprisingly sweet face under his helmet. "Actually, I was wondering if I could go. On my own."

"Oh."

You brace yourself for arguing or yelling. True, he hasn't raised his voice once, but he also hasn't said much at all. It's like living with a ghost.

"Yes, of course. Of course you can go." He fishes out a pouch of coins and gives them to you. You take it slowly, waiting for him to realize his mistake. He doesn't.

"Thank you," you say.

He nods and watches you walk.

"Wait."

You stop. Here it comes.

"There's a cargo ship in port today. The guards rotate at noon."

He leaves before you can form a thought. You hold the coins, watching blankly as the door shuts behind him. His horse whinnies, and then he's gone.

The market isn't far from the cottage. It's fantastic to be outside again. No one's noticed your absence, clearly, but that's alright. You've never expected more.

You buy a good cut of veal and potatoes and carrots and apples. Jason gave you more money than any cut of meat would cost, so surely he assumed you would buy other food. Why else would he give you so much?

A ship's horn drones in the distance. You're feeling some oranges when you remember his words. A cargo ship.

The sun is almost at its highest point.

"Oi! Either buy 'em or stop feelin' 'em!" the seller snaps.

You roll your eyes and move on from the orange stand. You can see the horizon of where the sky meets the sea from here. Any moment, the guards will change, and the ship will be...

You stop. Was Jason hinting at your escape?

No, he couldn't have been! That's preposterous. Why would he want you gone? The king took you for a reason.

And where would you go anyway? Once you leave, you'd be a criminal forever. You couldn't make a home on your own. And who knows what could happen in between? Pirates, enemy soldiers, anybody could snatch you up.

This must've been a test. A test to see if you would run. That's why he agreed to you going so easily.

No, your escape can't be planned now. Not when you're so obviously uncomfortable, and Jason knows it.

You ignore the ship and go home with your purchases. You spend the rest of the afternoon preparing veal stew. You warm leftover bread over the fire and set a pot of butter on the table.

Jason comes in louder than he has before, humming quietly. You perk up at the sound, happy for the lack of silence.

You set a bowl of stew at his chair and wait by the fire. As soon as he enters the kitchen, the humming stops.

"Welcome home," you say, wringing your hands. "I made supper."

Jason glances at the table, then back at you.

"You came back," he says.

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask, face neutral as you cut the bread into chunks.

"That—did the ship come?"

"Yes."

Jason sits. His face is dirty from training.

"I bought more than veal," you say, and hand him the pouch. "I hope that's alright. We—there were no more potatoes."

He takes the pouch, rubbing the string tied around the top. "You went to the marketplace... and came back."

It's not a question, but it sounds like there might be one behind it.

"Certainly," you say. "I'm loyal to you, Jason. I serve you."

He looks up, blinking rapidly. Then he looks back at his stew.

Oh, right. He's waiting for you to ask permission to sit.

"May I join you?" you ask.

Jason flinches. "You don't... you don't have to ask. I would never stop you from eating."

The words hang in the air. It's like neither one of you can speak right.

You watch him, and he watches you as you serve yourself and sit on the opposite side of the table. Jason takes the first bite, and you eat right after.

"Is the supper satisfactory? Have I done well?" you ask.

Jason stops chewing and sets his spoon down. You're struck by his shift in demeanor. You worry for a moment you've screwed up something as dim-wittingly simple as stew.

His eyes are sad as they fall on you. It's akin to grief, the pain he wears, but you don't know why he's grieving. You silently offer him more bread, pushing it toward him. He takes it.

"Yes," he says quietly and eats another spoonful. "You did. Thank you for supper."

Jason cleans his bowl three times. You have no stew leftover, which pleases you.

But as soon as Jason finishes eating, he gets up, rinses his bowl, and wordlessly leaves.

You don't see him for the rest of the night.

Somehow, you feel lonelier than when you weren't speaking.

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[monzabee]

déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.   

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

 “Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”  

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Okokokok SO….. I know the cowboy!reader is already set up with JJ- but what if there’s like one fic with hotch instead of JJ as the love interest?

Love your work! Make sure to eat and drink some water!

-Gay trash panda

Oooooo!!! Is it really bad if now I want to do that as a separate series? My whole tumblr is just gonna be cowboy reader, I can see it now (I mean it already is - don't worry I fucking love cowboy reader)

combination of this ask too

Warnings: mentions of death, child deaths, yelling, kissing (fairy heavy make out scene which feels weird to type), yelling

Taglist at the bottom of the post

When you first joined the team, Hotch was a dick. He didn’t trust you, he didn’t like that the decision to add you to the team didn’t go through him. And he made that known from day one.

He had made snippy comments from your first day and had yet to stop. You would catch him glaring at you for no specific reason. You would always be the first one he sent back to the hotel on a case. And you were sick of it. It made you want to rip your hair out. 

This time, he was particularly annoyed because you had intervened during a hostage situation. Everyone else was practically sitting ducks, trying to talk him down when there was a little boy with him. You had disobeyed direct orders and snuck into the building, taking the unsub down (you knocked him out). Hotch was absolutely fuming from the second he realised you were gone. Stream practically flew out of his ears. 

You all head back to the police station in silence, Hotch motioning for you to get in the same car as him, Reid, and Rossi. Tension filling the air. You all made your way back to the bullpen, thankful the case was close by. 

“(Y/N), my office. Now.” Hotch says, walking past you, going straight to his office. 

“Good luck,” Morgan mumbles as you walked past him. 

You walk in. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Hotch snaps, as soon as you were in his office, door not yet fully closed before he’s yelling.

“What was I thinkin’?” You scoffed, “I was thinkin’ a kid needed help and none of y’all seemed to be doin’ anything about it!”

“You know it takes time to talk an unsub down!”

“N I weren’t willin’ to wait!” You snap. “I didn’t wan’ another dead kid in my arms!”

“You were reckless! If you keep going like that, you will end up with another dead kid in your arms!” He exclaimed. 

You don’t care that he’s your boss, that this is probably going to get you fired. All you can think about is the anger as you slam him against the wall. You both glare at each other, chests rising heavily. Silence passed, both of you glaring at each other, chests still rising angrily.

“You keep breathin’ like that n I’m gonna wanna kiss that pretty mouth of yours,” You mumble. 

And the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. And he's breathing heavily, the thought of you pressed against him causing his brain to short circuit. You don’t hesitate, kissing him back. The argument and hatred forgotten, your hands gripping his blazer tightly as you push against him, deepening the kiss.

Some clears their throat and you both pull away at record speed. Ignoring the potential whiplash, you turned to the noise, Garcia grinned at you both. “Thank God you finally realised, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

Taglist:

@xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @poolclaws @chaosofmanyfandoms

@prmsn-17 @logicalhorror @shane18492 @iliketozoneout @goth-boi-atlas

@introvertpan84 @13thdoctor-run @winterwitchxxfan @ducks118 @woodandwaxwings

@aphroditeslovr @wizardmon3 @pinxeajin @pendragon-writes @chubbyboyinflannel

@migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade

@1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies

@azeal-peal @luvfornick

[taeaura]

Yap yap yap yap blah blah blah blah more Thomas Hewitt emotional stuff

My favorite GIF of him oml so handsome

_____

Just saw a post talking about how Thomas probably never had any friends {hit very close to home}, which got me thinking about just how intensely that affected him. Humans require connections, it's essential to our survival and overall wellbeing. Thomas' main influence is his family; And let's be honest, his family isn't all that great at fostering a healthy environment. I don't blame them, I doubt they were raised any better.

Thomas already seems like a closed-off, reserved, and anxious person. His anxiety seems to manifest in small fidgets, excessive staring, zoning out{?}, aggression, and isolation. This paired with his skin condition, facial deformity, and difficulty speaking would make socializing extremely difficult for him. I doubt many people attempted to socialize with Thomas. He was probably that one kid in class who sat by themselves and never spoke up. {I used to be that kid, totally not projecting or anything..} It's fair to assume this stunted some social growth for him, and I doubt being seen as an outcast is any good for your confidence. Confidence isn't just necessary for presenting yourself comfortably, it's also essential for expressing your thoughts, emotions, and boundaries. Putting yourself out there, achieving goals and milestones.

This would most definitely bleed into his relationships {of any kind really, romantic, sexual, platonic, family.} He would not express his emotions to you. Not easily anyway. Want a man who communicates properly despite language / ability barriers? Not gonna happen. Thomas would most likely shut you out. Shut anyone out just to protect himself from further emotional pain. I doubt the Hewitt family puts any emphasis on healthy communication anyway. And Thomas doesn't have experience to model a healthy partner. I'm sure he's an affectionate person, just not by default. ESPECIALLY not during the 2003 timeline. His confidence has grown, sure, but his family has gotten even more socially isolated, making social cues less likely to be processed properly. Another thing, {which connects to the previous statement,} Thomas doesn't fully understand social cues. Not much anyway. {I've discussed this so much, I apologize for the repetition.} He's an observant, quick learner, but that doesn't mean his brain computes certain things {am I projecting? Maybe}. I don't think he'd understand that staring at someone whilst they eat isn't appropriate {to most people}; He'd probably stare into people's car windows from afar, watch people from other rooms/windows/doorways, ect. Now, that doesn't mean Thomas is a nosey guy; Because I don't think he is. He knows not to eavesdrop, and he knows when to mind his business. I think it's more of "I'm zoned out / I'm confused and trying to figure you out" type of staring.

I'm sure Thomas understands boundaries.....the family’s boundaries that is. Hoyt disrespects boundaries all the time; But Luda Mae puts him in his place when {she feels} need be. Monty just flat-out refuses to acknowledge boundaries. That guy is arguably worse than Hoyt; He'd be offending like Hoyt does if he still had legs, I'm sure of it. He's just not as vocally aggressive as Hoyt, but I'm getting off-track here. It seems like Thomas has to respect the family's boundaries, but they don't have to respect his. Nor do I think he understands how to set up boundaries. It's kind of an unspoken rule in the Hewitt household that the basement is Thomas' space. No one goes down there without reason. That's probably the only boundary they respect. {I'm sure Luda Mae gives him space and patience though.} Combining his lack of knowledge / experience with boundaries, his excruciatingly-low confidence, and his social alienation, Thomas would be very, very hesitant towards intimacy. Having to not only be physically exposed {which is such a sore subject for him,} but emotionally?? Mentally?? That's not something he's used to nor ever been encouraged to embrace. I doubt Thomas even understands sex on an emotional level. {What seems to be} His only experience with sex is through his uncles; And maybe Luda Mae's "no intimacy before marriage" lectures. And you KNOW how Monty and Hoyt view sex. There's no intimacy there; It's just the primal, selfish urges. Now, I'm sure deep down those two want genuine intimacy and emotional connection; They've just buried it so deep down to resist being seen as 'weak'. Thomas most likely picked up on this, at least some of it, which has influenced his views on intimacy. He'd really have to trust someone on EVERY level; He also might cry after, idk. OR feel very uncomfortable. Probably have a moment of existentialism and some serious rethinking to do. Not necessarily about the act itself, but how he views it and what he's been taught. To add onto his hesitance: I see a lot of fan fiction involving him and the reader getting married within 1-5 months, which just..doesn't seem too realistic to me. Thomas most definitely has a lot of self-doubt, and the family wouldn't adjust to someone that quickly. I'd say AT LEAST a year before they {the family} consider it. Anyway..this is long enough but I'm fully willing to do pt. 2 on anything I've covered before :)

TLDR: Thomas would definitely need some guidance, the whole Atlantic Ocean's worth of reassurance, and some lessons on boundaries.

____

Anyway, yada-yada, Thomas needs some guidance and emotional regulation tools, what's new - 🫀

[vixen-tech]

Hi, hi, hii!! Here's a silly little idea I had: headcanons about the AIs developing feelings for someone. What do you think would initially make them feel attraction? Is there a particular trait that makes them-- metaphorically --fall head over heels? What makes them have the realization that their affections are suddenly less than platonic? How subtle or not subtle are they about their feelings? Would they be the type to immediately blurt out these new feelings, or are they the type to never address them?

You don't have to answer all of these questions; I just thought they'd be helpful. AaAA I love your writing so much, especially how you write for AM. Okay, I'll shut up nowwwww

Okay I'm absolutely gonna have to revist this some point down the line because there is so much I could stretch into a full headcanon post. But for now I'm gonna bite into first two questions: Why is it you they fall for? What caught their eye?

To be barred from AM's hatred, you're ultimately going to have to prove him wrong about humanity in some way. Setting yourself apart from the other human survivors and extending compassion to the mastercomputer himself. In particular I really like how rotten-raspberries's White Nights handles the entry point of your relationship and it's the model I like to hint at in my interpretation of him.

I believe Hal would be interested in a old soul type. Someone who would love to sit down and really explain their more philosophical views on life and art. He likes looking at the drawings the crew makes and was taught to sing early into his creation and I think he would find a deep appreciation for someone who indulges that side of him when the others do so on only the most surface level.

I could make the easy observation with Edgar and say he just wants someone like Madeline, but there's a reason it's so true. Being so new to the world he would find such passion and artistry amazing, astonishing. He loves so easily and is so energetic about life, he would easily be swept off his feet by a kindred spirit.

Tau would be very similar I imagine. Given the temperament of his creator he needs someone to kindly sit him down and give him the "welcome to personhood 101" speech. Compared to Edgar I think he'd prefer someone a bit gentler or even scholarly. The type who would not only be content to answer his billions of questions but someone so invested themselves in figuring out how the world works.

As a bit of a departure from what I tend to write, I believe P03 would be suited for more of a rivals with romantic tension type of partner. With his world domination plot and investment in the game of Inscryption it would be very possible for him to get in his head about someone as equally skilled and stuck up as he is. Loving the challenge but hating you at the same time in a "I'm the only one allowed to defeat you" type way.

The hardest to crack is probably Auto. In order for him to even look your way I think you'd have to at first play to his need for efficiency and order. It's only after you establish yourself as a dependable and effective worker that he would pay any mind to your insistence that surely there's something that he truly enjoys, something that he wants.

Glados is another hard one to win over. Being all "married to science" you would have to be of a particular intellectual caliber, able to solve her tests without much set back. Beyond that though, some amount of persistence or rebellion would catch her eye. Perhaps not on the level of Chell per say, but there is a part of her that would love to pick your brain if you're able to consistently break her test chambers.

Although it's a bit sad, Wheatley wants nothing more than to be important. He would probably be the easiest to woo just because he's so desperate to prove himself to anyone including himself. For someone to care about him, to think he is skilled in any way, to look at him as worthy- worthy of love and attention, would be a blissful and new experience. One that he'd quickly obsess over.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)

Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.

He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).

Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.

After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve. 

Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.

“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.

“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”

“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.

Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before. 

Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.

“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.

“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”

Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”

“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”

“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”

“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”

“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.

And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.

“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.

“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”

Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.

He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–

“Holy shit.”

He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.

“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”

‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..

“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach. 

Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.

“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.

His very well sculpted shoulders.

And arms.

And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..

Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”

“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”

Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.

He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.

When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.

The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.

Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.

“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.

Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.

“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.

Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”

Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.

“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”

“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.

Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”

“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”

Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”

“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.

They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.

He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.

He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.

“Eddie–”

“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.

He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.

“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”

Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.

“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”

“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.

Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I think you do.”

“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”

“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”

“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.

Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.

He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.

“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back. 

Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.

“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.

“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”

Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”

Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.

He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.

“I think that sounds amend—-”

Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.

“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”

Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”

“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”

“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”

“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.

Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.

“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.

He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”

“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”

“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Very.”

“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”

“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”

“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.

“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”

“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”

Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”

He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.

“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”

part 2/2 here | and on AO3!

definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

HI, CAN I TELL YOU ABOUT THE AKKALA CITADEL?????

Yes? Wonderful. Come, friend, have a seat. I have...a lot to say lol

Eight years later and I am STILL not over how absolutely genius this fortress is, like are you kidding me????? Everything from location to design to its inside defenses is just *chef's kiss* PHENOMINAL, and so because I have no filter, I am going to barf all my thoughts I've had on it in the past many many years.

Before we begin, shoutout to the WONDERFUL video by Zeltik that touches on this a bit and gave me a wonderful basis for my brainrot in the first place. Definitely go and watch it it's fabulous NOW! Let's get into the madness shall we? First let's talk about the location cos OHHHH MY GOSH. This was, hands down, THE best place they could have possibly put a fortress of this magnitude in Hyrule and I am going to tell you why. First of all, allllllll along the northern and northwestern border of Hyrule, there's those massive canyons

Passing over that in a way that would be effective military-wise is kind of impossible, so it provides a natural defense from invaders from those directions.

If you were to come from the South, you would hit the Gerudo desert and not only have to face the might of the Gerudo military, but also cross this EXPANSIVE, scorching desert before you can even make it to Hyrule field, and by that time, the royal leader could have very easily sent an army to intercept anyone trying to attack, so that's right out.

Which leaves coming from the Faron region next which is okay??? I guess??? but that's a LOT of swamp and forest you have to cross through, AND you go right past the Great Plateau where any army would have been seen and intercepted eventually. This takes us closer to the eastern coast of Hyrule, and you would be hard pressed to try and travel through Necluda, cos just l o o k at all these mountains you'd have to cross:

Horrible. And you probably don't want to go through Zora's Domain cos that's yet another heavily fortified and well prepared city in and of itself (please ask me about this one too I beg of you I love talking about Zora's Domain)

Any military leader with a brain isn't going to go through Death Mountain for obvious reasons, so really, all that leaves is this tiiiiiinnnyyy vulnerable spot in Akkala

And where did they put the citadel??? Right at the heart of that vulnerable spot >:D Like a boss.

AND SO! if invaders came in from that coastline, they have three options: They can take the path through the Akkala Highlands, they can go through the Torin Wetlands and up to the pass it connects to, or they can take the trail up to the Sokkala Bridges. All of these are TERRIBLE OPTIONS Akkala Highlands path: If they come up this way at the start

this will work allll the way until they get about here:

once they get here though, you are now not only bottlenecking an entire army meant to invade a kingdom (so probably roughly 1,000-1,300 people), but you're also directly under the shadow of the Akkala Citadel. There are archers there to fire on you, and they had a canon post on that side to potentially fire either at the incoming soldiers or fire at the opposite canyon wall to rain debris and rocks on them.

TERRIBLE for the other army.

And even if some did manage to survive, it would be painfully easy for the infantry at Akkala Citadel to send foot soldiers down below to cut them off.

SO THERE GOES THAT OPTION (and admittedly, I think it's probably the worst of the three)

Next option is to go through the Torin Wetlands and up into that same pass by the Citadel

this is ALSO a bad idea because the Torin Wetlands are a DELIGHTFUL tactical advantage for Hyrule. Once you get to that pass, you have the same problems as option one, but now you first have to pass through this wide marshland to get there. This will immediately slow down your army, and if that wasn't bad enough it's also in clear freakin view of the citadel and so they would be able to send their entire militia of archers and potentially even cannoneers to fire on the advancing army and take a bunch of them out before they could even make it to that pass.

So a smart general may say the best option is to go around the long way.

now this eliminates the pass and also slowing down at the marsh, and you could even make it almost all the way to the citadel without hardly any losses probably BUT! The first hurdle is those bridges. Wonderful for Hyrule, terrible for the opposing army. The three Sokkala bridges are SMALL, even smaller than the pass an army would have to go through with the other two options. This military leader would basically have to send their soldiers single file unless they have a way to expand the bridges to make them wider (which, admittedly, could be possible with a bit of foresight, but for now for simplicity's sake let's just assume they didn't think that far ahead).

This brings in an EXTREMELY slowly advancing army right to the heart of the Akkala Citadel's battery.

There are three locations with canons we see in BOTW that cover pretty much the entire open area the opposing army would come in on. And when you look at the amount of space each post covered

There is not a SINGLE spot in that valley a cannoneer couldn't easily reach. And, of course they would continue to have archers to pick off individual soldiers as well.

And if SOMEHOW

BY SOME MIRACLE

enough soldiers make it through that hell to be enough of a problem, there are plenty more soldiers in the citadel to cut them off as they come up the hill AND IF THAT'S NOT ENOUGH! there was this:

by the time we get to botw, it has been destroyed, but that is ANOTHER smaller stronghold that was probably pretty well manned in and of itself.

AND WHAT'S MORE

There's even this long cliff road with very little room to operate, so it would be extremely easy for the citadel to send over some soldiers to post up there and cut off anyone who tried to make it past. And with so little room to operate, it would not go well.

Ain't NOTHING getting past the Akkala Citadel, guys.

And that isn't even touching on the fact that the whole thing is build of solid stone??? And carved into a mountain??? The entire reason it fell in the first place was because the Guardians had enough of fire power to destroy the citadel that they had never seen before (also they could climb walls but that's a side note). This implies that no one in Hyrule or the neighbouring kingdoms had even CLOSE to that level of destructive power, so to try and raze it to the ground would have been impossible.

AND!! it was the most heavily fortified fortress in Hyrule second to the castle itself, and to most likely their military personnel would have been equal too, if not slightly more than even Hyrule Castle. That's A LOT of people!! With most likely endless support and resources from the castle and villages nearby as well.

It was placed geniously, it had impenetrable defense, it had a potentially endless supply of resources and people to use said resources, it was just

argjfbdkjgbks You guys don't understand how much I THINK about this place aghhhhhhhhhh

[ceilidho]

This is my first ask ever, but I got into ghoap/Reader because of you. And i thought I'd share the brain rot I'm getting from it.

I think if you were in a relationship with Ghost and you wanted to break off the relationship for whatever reason, but you start with "I think we should start seeing other people"

He will immediately take it as he should introduce Johnny into the relationship. Cause his technically another person, and Ghost has noticed how he looks at both you and him. It introduces something new(Johnny) into the relationship while still keeping you. Killing two birds with one stone and all that jazz.

Anyway, I love your writing and stalk my notifications for when you post. I'm setting up a house inside of your brain. ♡

wait i love this so much......such a brain-numbing rendition of Ghost completely disregarding your wants or desires because in his mind the two of you just aren't breaking up. it isn't happening. so even your very explicit assertion that the two of you should see other people gets twisted in his mind and he knows Johnny's been eyeing you for awhile anyway.

he's been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and christ, the whining he had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn't let him have you), but now?

now there's no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. now there's no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you're sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. now there's no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears when they're trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take and keep cupped close to his face.

he really pitied the poor pup before, no pretty girl at home. his only crush being his superior's girl. but Ghost is magnanimous - he's a generous man. if you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.

[littlewonders7]

Arcane isekai ideas for reader pt.3

(Not really a series just rambles of goofy scenarios ideas for mainly gen z reader surviving in the world of arcane and how the characters and world reacts to them)

warning: not good at explaining shit🤡🥲

_______________________

- I just think if a gen z reader were to be brought upon to the world of arcane, they would not have a normal conversation or introduction with any of the characters like you would see with x reader posts

- like I understand if the reader is sooo smart and a bad bitch who can anything for the plot and if it’s done right, HOWEVER I’m just saying it be nice to have the arcane characters being intrigued and curious about the reader for their chaotic and other worldly behavior that differs from and piltover and zaun, the reader being just them awkward, cringe, goofy self and the characters wanting to understand more about them because of it!

- like for example, I am a awkward but polite person, who tends to say sorry more times than I really should, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed and I do enjoy helping people if I can, however I do have that spark were I will not stand injustice and acts of cruelty towards others so I guess I would clash with zaun’s way of surviving, but also piltover’s brutality towards zaunites if that makes sense(not a good example but I hope that makes sense)

- I think it would be nice to have readers outworldy behavior and understanding of the world and their personality have an effect on those in arcane as their presence slowly or unexpectedly give them viewpoints they never realized or understood until they came along and gave the cast an outsider perspective of their lives.

- like I mentioned a little in my first post, I say to keep our reader alive and add some “magical or advance” they will still have excess to our world/reality technology and can get still buy as well as use those items over in arcane, perhaps they have a home just outside of the land of piltover and zaun and customize their base/home like you see in games idk. As for their abilities it’s kind of like that character from that one anime “campfire cooking in another world” but maybe more to it, they still have to buy and pay to get items or get rewards for doing tasks idk though. (I will note that while having access to the “real world” they cannot access or see any arcane related stuff, only maybe one their phone or when they’re asleep)

- I kind of have the reader have that kind of power mainly because I know my dumb sad anxious ass could not handle being throw into a new world without connection back to home in some way, and I definitely know I would be fuck with my terrible communication skills cause I stutter and worry to fuck up my words due to ✨trauma and overall mental health✨

- another reason I would like the reader to have that power is I thought it would bring more chaos if the cast finds out about readers technology advances they have or use, and reader having the time of their life just vibing and not realizing that them just doing that has fucked up the timeline. Like you see them whipping out their phone playing games(I like puzzle-brain test games and rhythm games like piano tile) walking around town wearing headphones listening to music oblivious to the world while some stop and stare at them.

- maybe that’s how you get introduce to sky( cause I kind of want her and other side characters having some spotlight) and sky trying to help you out living the world of arcane, not realizing the shit she just put herself in, as I did mention maybe the reader time travel or like dream travel to arcane past before being isekai so the characters have some sort connection or something like, that’s why the timeline being change and alter without the readers knowing what they did.

- I’m also debating whether or not to have the cast yandere or the very least possessive for reader to give more bs to deal with understand wtf is happening but eh that’s all I got for now

[athousandbyeol]

keep up the thamepo [episode 5]

i was a bit frustrated with myself initially because, after the first watch, I was left confused... and jaded... and a bit dissatisfied with this week's episode.

it has nothing to do with the acting, but I thought it felt a bit fragmented? nano's story arc didn't flow as smoothly as jun's or dylan's? i was trying to make sense of it—why it felt like there were still missing puzzle pieces in nano's portrait. but I guess, after making another observation, I guess nano was the last puzzle piece. i didn't realise it until I watched the episode again.

i wonder if this has to do with how the story is told from thame's perspective? the simplicity, somewhat straightforward nature of how everything unfolds kind of reflects thame's perception of his feelings for po? how he thought that po was just wanting 'to be friends' with him. how he didn't know he was in love with po—not until pepper provided a different approach for him to understand and come to terms with his feelings?

therefore, in this week's recap, it'll be a bit shorter than my previous posts because this episode was quite straightforward in terms of storytelling. however, I do want to address some apparent parts that itch my brain, which are, jun and thame's dynamic, the parallelism between nano and po, and also po and thame's upcoming love arc.

1. jun and thame — one who ignites the fire; one who is on fire

i think 80% of the confusion comes from me not understanding what on earth jun was doing.

in last week's post, i said that jun might be fond of po in the sense that he was concerned about him because of his closeness with thame? jun might have an idea of po and thame's emotions for each other, so this is his way of showing his concern.

however...

everything he did somehow sent me to the edge. it made me assume that he might... like... po? romantically. i mean, if I don't know jun and po the way I do now, I might assume that they have feelings for each other (or at least, jun has feelings for po).

but then again, when i watched the episode, I didn't think jun likes po romantically? it's more like jun's trying to test the connection between po and thame—or he was just testing thame all along.

but one thing that i really like about the whole 'jun answered all of thame's calls on po's phone' is how transparent thame's jealousy is to everyone, but it's still transparent to him.

it's so interesting how thame is visibly uncomfortable with the idea of jun being close to po—at least in his eyes—romantically. because I feel like thame has always tried to conceal some parts of himself from the world due to his selflessness. yet, in this week's episode, I can safely say that thame has finally shown his selfishness.

and it kind of makes my heart skip a beat because po is the reason. thame's behaviour and demeanour in this episode stem certainty in me that aside from his dreams of making everyone's wishes come true, making po happy and loved is his new dream. and it's not forced, this dream of showing and giving po the whole world—it's because he genuinely loves him. (but at this point, thame didn't realise it yet xD)

a quick shoutout to pepper for being the group's observer. he's closely monitoring the group, helping thame bridge the members together, and giving advice to thame from the perspective of an outsider—a watcher. I'm thankful that thame has pepper as the vice leader because in my opinion, pepper judges with this sense and intuition, while thame makes decisions more on his senses than feelings. so it's great that thame and pepper are the leaders of the group because they complement each other well; pepper emotionally supports thame and helps him get a better grasp of the smaller picture—thame's way of helping pepper will unfold next week, I assume (and I'm excited/nervous for it to be honest...)

but again... the jealousy thame portrays is delicious.

it's fascinating because thame's jealousy is directed solely at jun and not po.

he could still smile at po. he was excited to have a conversation with po. he was always looking out for po.

but whenever he was looking at po, there was jun.

i like that in this scene, po was really just genuinely sharing about his day (I could imagine them being exactly like this when they start dating). he was so happy to talk to thame (po's so precious I'm actually devastated T_T). but as soon as the mentioned jun... thame just... he was set aflame. and it's so satisfying to see him this way. he's finally being selfish for once.

and jun kept pushing thame's buttons, all the right ones. and he was on edge. he was jealous. he was fuming. he was confused. he was... dejected.

however, i wonder still if everything jun said to po holds an opposite meaning? was he trying to tell po that "can't you see? thame really likes you?" what are your thoughts on jun? i really want to know (because I still don't understand his intentions t_t)

thank you pepper for helping thame realise his feelings for po :(

i like the idea of thame's inexperience of never liking or having a crush on someone makes his feelings for po appear stronger, bolder and limitless. thame has so much love to give po once he accepts the buzz in his head and the heaviness in his chest as I'm in love with phi po.

i think, the moment of epiphany for thame is beautifully done. the self-acceptance, the happiness and the relief that he finally understood his fondness for po are gorgeous. (so, jun, stop teasing thame and po, will you? po is definitely thame's type and thame's definitely in love with po.)

2. nano and po — a shadow, a reflection, two hearts

i'm actually geeking out at the idea of nano and po as a shadow, a reflection and heart to the people who regard them as important in their lives.

nano is just... beautiful.

to me, nano navigates his thoughts and feelings as a member of MARS with his heart. it makes him somewhat pure and innocent. he just loves his members. he loves MARS so much.

but it's heartbreaking how he doesn't see his significance as a member of the group—as the group's core.

all these stills of nano building the tent, helping the members, etc, illustrate his importance to the group. to me, he enhances each member's charms. he brings them to the spotlight. he helps clear the mist clouding them so that people can see MARS in all of their glory.

however, i do realise that nano is struggling with self-confidence. he doesn't know if he could ever make it without MARS. he's unsure if he could ever exist just as nano and not nano of MARS. he feels like a shadow underneath the members' feet. he doesn't feel he holds any importance.

nano reflects po. nano parallels the old po.

it's a beautiful parallelism—these two broken hearts were just afraid of disappointment. of uncertainty. of grief. of incompetence. of falling apart.

but i'm so thankful that po steps up to help nano realise that he's important—he's the heart and soul of MARS. with his portrayal of honesty from past experience, I love how sincere and raw po's words are. i surely believe it's everything nano needed.

(and i absolutely love how nano and po are wearing the same shade of yellow, indicating that both of them experienced similar scenarios. i think po will be nano's favourite phi in the future. he'll emotionally lean on po the most because po understood him through and through. it's so sweet T_T)

i think it's also healing po emotionally. he has finally confronted his past emotional trauma by indirectly talking about it to nano. it must've been tough to share a part of our utmost vulnerability with someone, but I'm glad po was strong enough to make a truce with everything he experienced in the past and helped nano see just how important he's to MARS. thank you, po <3

i love that MARS finally feels complete now—they finally feel like a family again.

even if the future is uncertain, at least they have each other to lean on (I'm just going to cry in the corner when that time comes...) and nano being in the centre? that's MARS's heart and soul right there. <3

3. thame and po — one step closer, 5 cm

finally, thame and po are physically close.

episodes 1 to 4 did an amazing job of showing us how thame and po build their emotional closeness through heart-to-heart talks, helping each other out, eating sandwiches together, remembering one's phone number, etc. thame and po are already close without thame realising, without po thinking.

i'm obsessed with how thame's deepest feelings now overboil once it's constantly triggered by the idea of jun and po's ambiguous connection in his eyes. i think it's how most of us realise our first crush on someone—the intensity, and the confusion are somewhat daunting. but again, I'm glad pepper was there for thame to understand his feelings—and jun was there for po to doubt if it was ever true.

this shot is INSANE.

my heart really skipped a beat. really.

i think it's because thame initiated this touch and it was the first time that they've ever touched this intimately (at the waist—in my head it's one of the most intimate places to touch) and it was after he made a move to understand his boggling feelings for po—

(distant screaming and screeching)

the shock and happiness and yearning and intimacy is just SCRUMPTUOUS I'm honestly jumping off—

just the notion of thame finally coming to terms with his emotions—finally understanding that he likes po and he likes everything about po and it makes sense now is just gorgeous.

the happiness on thame's face... my heart is aching. i hope he'll be happy for a long time.

(AND THE HUG! THE HUG! instead of holding po's hand, thame hugged po. i like the idea that they are chest to chest, heart to heart, listening to the sync beat of their thundering hearts, realising that oh, I like phi po. ph, phi po likes me too. INSANE INSANE THAME I SWEAR THIS IS THE START OF A HAPPIER JOURNEY FOR YOU DON'T WORRY LOVE PO LOVES YOU AND YOU LOVE PO AND THAT'S ENOUGH)

but...

what will happen next week? are we finally getting pepper's (devastating) story arc? and what's up with the heartbreaking tension between po and thame? and why are we getting jun's "between phi and thame, it's impossible" next week? I'M NOT EVEN MENTALLY SANE TO TAKE IT—

*jumps off* *crying* *screaming* i don't know anymore.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Peaceful property is a bl even if it's not. It's also about so many other things although not really delivering on a consistent message.

I thought about adding my thoughts to this thread but it was getting long and I started to get sidetracked so I decided to just make my own post about it and share my thoughts on it. @lurkingshan @bengiyo and @twig-tea all made good point about why this show is faltering with its own themes, and @respectthepetty made a compelling argument that the show knows what its doing.

I think no one is wrong and I land somewhere in the middle with it. As in, depending on what I choose to care about. Much like @respectthepetty, I am bias about this show. For different reasons tho. I like Tay and New a lot so I lead with that instead of my critical thinking. just as a personal aside, I tend to do this when my brain and heart don't align. I ignore when my brain tells me that the show is doing something wrong so that I can enjoy the rest. This works particularly well with QL for some reason. I am after all a person who liked Dangerous Romance even when my brain kept trying to damper my enjoyment with logic. And also sometimes I'm a hypocrite and there's no reason for why I like a show and not another. Ok, there's usually a reason but it's most often not a good one, or a rational one at least. That's just how it is.

Anyway. Because of all the excellent points made by that post I decided to fully engage my brain and I've been thinking about what this show is trying to say and I agree that unfinished business is the main thing in the ghost stories but I would have to shut off my brain completely to not see how class factors into all of it as well.

The ghosts up until now, except the chef, were all lower class and one can argue that it played a part in how they died or what happened after. I'm not including episode 7 for reasons that I will explain in a bit. Even if Ride's unfinished business was about love, the fact that he was the only rider doing deliveries in the rain, at least to me, read as he was driven by the need to make money in the first place. Even in the chef's case, the customer that Peach basically poisoned was rich and it was a part of the headlines about it and the reason for the restaurant getting shut down. Also most of the individual stories didn't get deep into these issues, case of the week usual issues, but it was always an underlying theme. Also as @twig-tea said all the parallels work even better because this disparity also exists between Home and Peach.

All this gets me to how I started this post. This is a bl even if it isn't. The choice to include the tragic bl storyline in the middle of this, in my own brain, can only be explained if I believe this is a bl. (The tragic bit was thematically consistent with this show.) Specifically a gmmtv bl. Cause ultimately they have a tendency to forsake narrative consistency if it stops serving the main romance. It's also the only way I can explain having a bl pair mirroring the other bl pair on screen. So in that way it's consistent with gmmtv. Just brush aside anything that can get in the way of the couple not having a happy ending. This is also how I explain my biggest issue with it. Pangpang. She's the shipper. She's been the shipper from basically the start.

Home basically killed her brother, why would she be the driving force in getting him forgiven? Because of my previously admitted bias, I forgave Home almost immediately. It's New and he didn't mean it, it was an accident and he wanted to call for help and do the right thing but his family interfered and.... I could come up with a lot of reasons because I want to forgive him. So everything else can be ignored. But all this obviously doesn't apply to Pang. So it can only be the bl in the not a bl show.

Now, on full brainy mode, this last episode makes no sense with everything else this show has been saying until now. They used a branded pair to ignore any class disparity between our mains, since the last ghost story didn't really parallel that, and over the forgiveness part, and jump straight into Peach has forgiven Home and will probably now become his saviour. Don't even get me started on the fact that Peach is still broke but saving the rich dude that turned his life to crap will be the most important thing right now. I wonder if gmmtv has ever ignored class disparity between a main couple and instead focused on the richer dude's drama while ignoring the struggle of the other one, all in favour of the main romance and lovey dovey moments 🤔. But I guess I'll reserve full judgement on that until the next episode.

yeah, so basically this is where I am at with this show. My two sides are fighting but come next wednesday my brain will take the back seat for 45 minutes so I can enjoy Tay and New and after that maybe I'll think about it some more.

[morgana-larkin]

Alright so I saw a prompt from @meowmeowhissss for a jealousy fic and of course I couldn’t resist. The prompt is: It’s a holiday. Melissa takes R to a family function. The schemmenti family loves them. Kristin and R get along very well, which makes Melissa jealous. She’s either jealous because R’s attention should be her or because she misses having a connection with Kristin (your choice 🤷‍♀️). Could end in reassurance or some jealousy smut.

On another note: I’m trying to decide what to do next, your prompts, to start a Marilyn one or continue the next chapter of worth it, hm, maybe I’ll post a poll soon. Like right after I post this lol.

Translations:

Italian:

Tesorino - sweetie

Papera - duck

Dutch:

Oma - grandmother

Red And Green

Warnings: Jealous Mel (when I say red and green, I don’t just mean the colours 😏), oblivious reader, smut, fluff

Words: 5k

It’s Christmas Day and Melissa invited you to her family get together as they keep asking to meet you. You accepted, although confused. You and Melissa are really good friends and have known each other for a year and a half. You were attracted to her from day 1 and it only grew, more so in the past 4 months when she started paying more attention to you.

You put on your red dress that stops mid thigh and it’s a bit flowy from the waist down. It comes with a white belt and you put on your black heeled boots that stops just before the knee. You apply some green eye shadow and red lip gloss. You then hear a knock at your door. You go and answer it and see Melissa standing there. All you see is her black leather pants and her black coat zipped up.

She however got to see your outfit and her brain stopped working for a second. “Wow, you look amazing hon.” She tells you and you blush. “You all ready?” She asks and you nod.

“Let me just grab my coat and purse.” You say and she nods. You go get both and you grab your present for Melissa and for the steal a gift that she said her family is doing. You also grab the cookies you made as a thank you to her family for inviting you.

“You made cookies?” She asks you and you nod.

“My Oma taught me to never show up empty handed when someone invites you to a family party.” You tell her and she smiles.

“My Nonna would have loved you. And would have gotten along with your Oma.” She tells you and you smile and blush.

You get in Melissa’s car and she tells you that you can put your music on if you want. “Do you like Christmas songs?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“Some of them.” She says and you put one on and she looks at you weirdly.

“Really?” She says and rolls her eyes. “Out of all the Christmas songs I thought you were gonna put on, I want a hippopotamus for Christmas was not one of them.” She says and you laugh. Melissa looks at you laughing and singing along and she doesn’t have the heart to change the song. She’d listen to it every year at Christmas if it meant she’d hear your laugh and singing along happily.

“Btw, why did your family invite me?” You ask her when the song ends.

“I don’t know, they told me the details and asked if I could invite you to it.” She says with a shrug. “I thought it was a bit weird too. They’ve never asked me to invite anyone else before. Well they did for Barb once years ago and obviously Joe and Gary.” She tells you and you smile.

“Well I’m very honoured they wanted to invite me. Do you talk about all your co workers to your family?” You ask her.

“The ones that matter.” Is all she says and you blush and look down. Melissa has a feeling for why her mom wanted to invite you. Her mom has only asked to meet someone in her life for two reasons, 1: her mom thinks they’re dating and 2: when she tells her mom she’s dating someone. Her mom wanted to meet Barb thinking her and Barb were dating but said they weren’t and that Barb is happily married to a man with 2 daughters. She’s worried that her mom thinks she’s dating you. Melissa is attracted to you and knows you’re into women but doesn’t know if you’re attracted to her. Melissa has mentioned you but never told her mom she has feelings for you. Although it wouldn’t surprise Melissa if her mom figured it out.

She pulls up at her parents house after 20 minutes of driving. You both get out and you hold your things and wait as Melissa gets her items from the trunk. She grabs a handful of gifts and closes the trunk then goes and walks to the door with you following her. You see about 10 cars parked outside and think that’s the average amount for a family gathering until Melissa speaks up. “Looks like only half my family is already here.” She comments and your jaw drops.

“What do you mean half? How many people are in your family?” You ask and she laughs.

“Have you forgotten I’m Italian?” She says and you sigh.

“It might have slipped my mind that most Italians have big families.” You say.

“Are you ok with big crowds?” She asked and you nod.

“Ya, it just surprised me is all.” You tell her and she knocks on the door. A few seconds later the door opens and an older women that looks like an Melissa with just a couple differences answers and you know right away that she’s Melissa’s mom. She lets you guys enter and Melissa greets her.

“Hey Ma, Merry Christmas!” She tells her and hugs her. How she managed to hug her while holding onto a bunch of gifts without dropping one is beyond you. Her mom then turns to you and smiles.

“Hi, you must be y/n. I’m Teresa, Mel’s mother.” She says to you.

“Yes I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You say and hold out a hand to shake.

“We hug in this family.” She tells you and holds out her arms and you hug her.

“I brought some cookies.” You tell her.

“Oh aren’t you sweet.” She says and takes the cookies from you. “You didn’t have too.” She adds.

“My Oma taught me to never show up empty handed to a family gathering that I’m invited to.” You tell her and she smiles.

“She’s a good one Mel.” She tells Melissa and her cheeks go red.

“Maa.” Melissa says and her mom just smiles at you.

“I thought I heard the second trouble maker.” A man says and comes out to you guys.

“Hi Pa.” Melissa says and hugs him. “I guess that means the papera is already here.” She adds and Teresa scoffs.

“You and your sister with the insults to each other honestly.” Her mom says and you giggle. “Oh Tesorino, this is y/n.” Her mom says to her husband and points to you.

“Hi, I’m Cosimo. And to brag but it means beauty.” He jokes and flips his short hair that barely moves and you laugh.

“Here let me take your coats.” Teresa says and takes yours and Mel’s coat. When you finally see Melissa’s full outfit, you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. She’s wearing a low cut red shirt with a green sweater. You stare at her long enough for both her parents to notice and smirk at each other.

“Where can we put the gifts?” Melissa asks and her mom leads you both to the living room where most of the people were gathered and you put your gifts under the tree.

“Well well well, look who finally decided to show up.” Someone says and you recognize the voice of Melissa’s sister, Kristen Marie.

“Nice to see you too Kristy.” Melissa says and they hug each other.

“You must be y/n, Melissa mentioned you a few times.” She says to you and you nod.

“Ya I am, nice to meet you.” You say to her.

“Here, let me show you around and introduce you to everyone.” Kristen says to you and you miss Melissa’s glare at her sister. Kristen is unaware of Melissa’s feelings for you and she thinks you’re kinda cute.

“Oh ok, thank you.” You tell her and she leads you around the house and introduces you to people. You wanted to spend time with Melissa but you didn’t want to seem rude.

After about an hour, you meet everyone and saw the whole downstairs of the house. Melissa keeps a close eye on you and her mom comes up to her at some point.

“So when are you going to tell her?” She says to her.

“What?” Melissa says.

“When are you going to tell y/n about your feelings?” Her mom states.

“What makes you think I have feelings for her?” Melissa asks her mom.

“Oh please. It may not be obvious to other people but you’re my daughter. I hear the way you talk about her and how your eyes look when you do. And how you’re now staring holes into your sister’s head since she stole y/n away from you.” She tells her and Melissa sighs.

“I do have feelings for her but we’re friends. And that’s all we’ll ever be.” Melissa tells her mom.

“Cara, why don’t you want to tell her?” She asks her.

“Because I don’t know if you noticed the age gap, and the fact that I don’t have the best luck when it comes to relationships.”

“Mel, I noticed the age gap but that has never stopped anyone in our family before. Your bad luck is only because you wanted different things in life than they did.” Her mom says. “Plus your sister is going for it and she’s only 2 years younger than you.” She adds and Melissa whips her head at her.

“What do you mean she’s going for it?” Melissa asks surprised and her mom smiles.

“Kristen Marie is flirting with her.” She tells her and points to you and Kristen Marie. Her sister has her arm wrapped around your waist and holding you close while talking to a cousin. Melissa crosses her arms and huffs. “If it helps, she’s interested in you as well. But if you don’t make a move, she might actually start to flirt back with Kristen, thinking you’re not interested in her.” Her mom says and then walks back to the kitchen. Melissa walks over to you guys, stands right beside you and joins in on the conversation.

“Hey Melissa!” You say and she smiles at you.

“Hey, you having fun?” She asks you.

“Ya I am, Kristen here has been so nice to show me around and introduce me to everyone. We also have similar interests as well. How come you never introduced me to your sister before?” You ask her and she frowns. She thinks her sister might have won you over.

“Melissa and I have only patched things up 3 years ago.” Kristen says to you. “And I think Mel still forgets she has a sister at times.”

“More like I try to forget but it never happens.” Melissa retorts and you laugh. Just then Teresa announces dinner is ready and everyone scurries to line up at the kitchen. It’s buffet style and then just sit wherever. Kristen pulls you to the line before it gets too long and Melissa tries to keep up but ends up seperated. She watches you and Kristen talking and you laughing at whatever she says and Melissa gets angry.

“You alright cuz?” Someone says to Melissa and snaps her out of her thoughts and she turns around.

“Ya Vinny, I’m fine, why?”

“Because you look like you want to kill your sister. And you guys patched things up a few years ago.” He tells her.

“Like I said, I’m fine.” She tells him with a bite to her voice and Vinny looks unconvinced but doesn’t question it further.

You all managed to eventually get food and sit down in the living room. Kristen continues talking to you and starts to get touchy so Melissa takes action. She walks right up to you both and squeezes in between you both.

“Excuse me.” She says and you and Kristen both have to move over to make room for Melissa.

“What the hell Melissa?” Kristen says and you look confused but don’t think much of it.

“What?”

“You’re impossible sometimes.” Kristen tells her and Melissa just smirks and turns to you.

“Enjoying the food?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes I am. I hope your mom didn’t cook all of it. There was enough for a village in there.” You say and both the sisters laugh. You miss Melissa elbowing her sister in the stomach.

“No, Ma didn’t cook everything. She cooked about half though. Lots of our family volunteers to bring something over. Last year I brought a branzino.” She tells you and Kristen scoffs. “Something you want to say Kristy?” Melissa turns to her sister with a glare.

“Nope.” Kristen says and takes a bite of her food. “Y/n have you ever tried caprese chicken saltimbocca?” Kristen asks you and you shake your head.

“Can’t say I have.”

“Did you get some?” She asks you and both of them look at your plate and sees that you didn’t. Before Melissa could offer some of hers, Kristen beats you to it but offers you a bite off of her fork and you accept it. Melissa looks at interaction and stews. She doesn’t want to have another feud with her sister especially since her sister technically isn’t doing anything wrong. You’re single, beautiful and sweet, the whole package. She can see why her sister is flirting with you.

After dinner, you all have dessert as you do the steal a gift. It has 2 rules, 1: you can’t re-steal a gift back as well as the same gift can’t be stolen more than once in a round and 2: you must wait your turn.

When it’s your turn, you pick a gift and see that it’s a beautiful necklace of a green diamond heart wrapped with silver lining, the green is the same colour as Melissa’s eyes and you love it.

Unfortunately one of her cousin’s steals it from you and Melissa sees your pout and then you go to get a different gift. Melissa is the last person to pick and she’s gonna steal that necklace back for you. You open another gift and see that it’s a bottle of Italian wine and you get a bunch of ‘ooo’s from everyone. And someone says that you’re having bad luck when someone steals it from you and you laugh and agree. You're sitting beside Melissa and she has her arm on your low back the entire time. You talk with Kristen Marie as well who’s sitting on the other side of you.

When it’s Melissa’s turn she immediately goes and steals the necklace from her cousin, the one who stole it from you, got it stolen from her and now Melissa is stealing back for you. She’ll give it to you later tonight. You end up with a hoodie that says “I’m Italian you gaboots” to which you and everyone laughed.

Teresa then goes and hands the gifts under the tree to who it’s for. You end up getting one from Melissa and her parents to which you were surprised. Melissa ends up getting a few gifts as well as her sister and everyone else. You open hers and see that it’s a baseball cap that says the eagles on it that you mentioned you couldn’t afford at the time, when you and her went to a game. You saw that she got a cap but you thought it was for herself and you now saw that she got it for you. You squeal and give her a hug.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” You tell her and she laughs.

“You’re welcome hon.” She says.

Melissa sees that you got her a gift and she opens it with a smile. She sees that it’s the book she wanted and you must have heard her talking about it and got it for her.

“Omg thanks hon.” She says and hugs you.

“Open it.” You tell her and looks confused.

“To what page?” She asks.

“Any page.” You tell her and she opens it and she immediately tears up. The first letter of each word was highlighted. She flips through it more and it seems like it’s like that for the entire book.

“Omg.” She says and puts her hand over her heart.

“You ok Mel?” Her mom asks and Melissa nods and turns to you.

“Did you get someone to highlight it or did you do it yourself?” She asks.

“I did it myself.” You tell her and she launches herself at you in a hug.

“Omg hon, this is the best gift ever!” She tells you. Her mom looks at the book and sees what you did and she smiles. The fact that you knew of Melissa’s dyslexia, got her a book she wanted and knew what helps her and did it yourself, made her see that you’re the perfect one for Melissa. When most people were done opening their gifts and chatting with people, Melissa turns to you. “Hey hon.” She says and you turn to her.

“Ya Melissa?” She pulls out the necklace from the steal a gift.

“I saw you loved the necklace and decided to steal it for you.” She tells you and your jaw drops.

“You did that for me?” You ask in disbelief and she nods. “Are you sure? I mean I’m sure it would look lovely on you.” You tell her.

“I’m sure but I got enough necklaces for now and it would look better on you. Turn around and lift up your hair.” She tells you and you do. She puts the necklaces on you with a smile. Kristen hears the conversation and sees the interaction between you and figures out why Melissa has been glaring at her all evening. Melissa likes you. She decides right there to amp up the flirting with you to make Melissa jealous. She knows her sister might not make a move otherwise. Her mom sees the interaction as well and sneaks a picture of Melissa putting the necklace on you.

She clips it on and you turn around and face her. “Wow thank you Melissa!” You tell her and stare at the necklace with a smile.

“You’re welcome. I knew it would look good on you.” She says softly and you blush. As a thank you, you kiss her check and then turn around to face Kristen Marie as she taps your arm right away. Melissa is stunned by your action and touches where you kissed her with a blush and smile. Teresa gets a picture of the kiss and Melissa’s reaction.

Before anyone leaves, they all get up to take a bunch of photos. A few of everyone, a few without the partners or guests of people. And then individual ones of the households and everyone’s little families. Melissa got one with her mom, dad and sister and then one with just her sister. She thought she was done and then her mom calls you up again and gets you to take one with Melissa. She takes one with Melissa’s hand wrapped around your waist and tells you to get closer as your ‘besties’. Her words, not yours. Melissa then goes behind you and hugs you from behind and puts her chin on your shoulder and her mom takes a picture and then Melissa sticks her tongue out for the next one to which you laugh and copy her. The photos of other people continue as you two go to sit down.

Kristen Marie grabs your attention right away and Melissa gets annoyed. Kristen Marie has gotten more touchy with you, the more into the night you get. You are wondering why she’s touchy with you and you are starting to like it a bit, you normally don’t get attention like that from people. Kristen Marie puts her hand on your thigh and whispers something to you and that’s when Melissa decides to leave. Other people have already left so she thinks it wouldn’t look weird.

“Hey hon, I’m getting tired so I’m gonna go.” She tells you and you look at her.

“Oh ok, let me get my things and we can go.” You say but Kristen Marie speaks up.

“If you want I can drive you home and you can stay longer.” She offers and you look at her and her hand goes higher up her leg and Melissa sees red.

“Oh um, I’m actually going to hitch a ride with Melissa if that’s ok with you.” You ask her to which she immediately nods.

Melissa and you say your goodbyes to everyone. You thank her parents for inviting you and Teresa hands you your container back, now empty as all the cookies were eaten.

You put your stuff in the car and Melissa starts the drive back to your place. “So you and my sister seem to have gotten along.” She starts and you look at her.

“Ya, she’s really nice, she even gave me her number.” You say and Melissa takes a deep breath to try and control her jealousy.

“That’s because she was hitting on you.” Melissa says bluntly and a bit snippy.

“What? No she wasn’t, she was just being nice.” You tell her and she scoffs.

“Hon, you have got to be the most oblivious person on the planet if you couldn’t tell she was flirting with you.” Melissa tells you and you look at her confused. “I mean she literally had her hand on your thigh.” She says with a bit of anger.

“Well I did think that was a bit weird but didn’t want to seem rude if that’s normal in your family.”

“That’s not normal for us, we’re not that touchy.”

“What?!? But you’re touchy with me too.” You say.

“Ya! Because I’m trying to flirt with you too!” She says annoyed but then she realises what she just admitted and mentally facepalms.

“You’re what?” You ask.

Melissa leans back into the seat and doesn’t bother looking at you or answering your question.

“Melissa, do you like me?” You ask her and she sighs. She then finds a place to pull over safely and then turns to look at you.

“Ok yes I do, I’ve been trying to flirt with you for 4 months ever since I realised I liked you over the summer. But I guess you’re the most oblivious person, I also didn’t want to tell you directly because I was afraid. But I saw how you were with my sister and I got jealous.” She admits and you stare at her with wide eyes and then you smile at her.

“I like you too.” You tell her and she looks shocked at you.

“Do you really?” She asks and you nod. Melissa then cups your cheek and leans in. You lean in as well and you kiss each other. It starts out slow as you learn each other’s mouths and savour it. Then it quickly turns desperate and Melissa deepens the kiss. You let out a moan and Melissa puts her hands all over your hair. You then pull away and look at her face.

“Take me to your place.” You tell her and it takes her a second to process and then she nods and puts the car in drive.

She then drives to her place and you both quickly get out and into her house. Once inside she pushes you against the door as soon as it closes and attacks your lips with hers.

“Wait.” You tell her and she pulls back. “Were you jealous of your sister flirting with me?” You ask her and she looks down and blushes. “Hmm, I knew you were acting a little different. I kinda like it.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“Really?”

“Ya, go on and take your jealousy out on me.” You whisper in her ear. And with your permission, she does just that.

She attacks your neck roughly and you gasp and moan. She pins you up on the wall and pulls your dress down to go for your nipples. You bury your hands in her hair and moan. She then pins your hands to the wall and you whine as you’re unable to touch her. “Naughty girls don’t get to touch.” She says with a deep voice and you shiver. “I know you liked the attention you got from my sister.” She adds and you whimper. “Tell me, do you think my sister can get all these sounds out of you?” She asks and you squirm. You then decide to add fuel to the fire.

“She probably could. I mean she knew how to move her hand under my dress.” You say and you see the jealousy practically leaking from her as there was so much.

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it I see.” She says and carries you to her bedroom. “I see you want to be fucked roughly tonight, treated like the slut you are.” She tells you once she sets you down on her bed. She unbuckles your belt and flings it off you, then rips your dress off. She unclips your bra and sends it flying then attacks your nipples and she moans. She pulls you up more onto the bed and climbs on top of you. She slides your underwear and then looks at you bare under her. She then gets up and goes to her closet and brings a box over. She then oh so casually, takes out some cuffs and ties you to the bed.

“What?” But I haven’t touched you yet!” You exclaim and she smirks.

“Like I said, naughty girls don’t get to touch.” She says then she takes her sweater and shirt off and you drool at the sight of her chest on display like that. She then straddles your lap and takes her bra off and you stare at them. She then puts her hands on her boobs and touches herself while all you can do is watch and struggle against the cuffs. “Hmm oh I bet you’d love to touch me like this.” She teases and she moans. You whimper and she grinds against you a bit. She then gets up and takes her pants and underwear off. She then get a vibrator out, turns it on and instructs you to close your legs, she then puts it on your clit and tells you to keep it there. She then goes and slowly puts a strap on while she watches you squirm. She knows your close and she wonders if she should edge you or make you come many times. She decides to edge you and tells you not to come. You squirm even more and she enjoying watching you struggle.

She then ups the speed on the vibrator and you arch your back and try to keep the vibrator in place like she told you too. She then turns it off when she knows you can’t hold on too much longer and removes it from you. You whine as you were very close but then she gets in between your legs and starts licking you. You moan at the feeling of her hot wet tongue and mouth on you where you need her the most. She then goes for your clit and you gasp. She roughy licks and sucks on it for a couple minutes until you were just about to come and she pulls back. She waits a few seconds for you to calm down and then she sticks her fingers in you and fingers you. About half a minute she curls her fingers inside you and it hits your g-spot. You have your legs spread nice and open for her and you’re close again. She then pulls out when your close and you whimper.

“Mel please, I need to come.” You say with a pout and she chuckles.

“You don’t get to come until I say so.” She tells you and you realise she’s edging you. She then lines the dildo up with your entrance and she shoves it in. You scream out and she gives you a second to adjust. She then goes and starts pounding it into you and she rubs your clit. Melissa comes about a minute later but doesn’t tell you, she wants to know how much more you can take. “Hold it in you slut.” She says and you whimper. She then pulls out at the last second and you whine and whimper. She takes the strap off and goes and sits on your face. You take a few licks and she moans out. She then pushes the vibrator to your clit and turns it on to the max. “When you make me come then you can.” She says to you and you squirm the entire time as you hold in the orgasm she’s been denying you all night. And then finally she comes and it drips all over your chin and lips and then you come with a scream as it hits you hard due to the intense build up.

She then releases you from the cuffs and she goes to get a cloth. She makes sure to not touch your clit but cleaning you up and then cleans herself up. She throws the cloth on the ground next to the strap and lays down beside you.

“Are you ok?” She asks you as you cuddle into her and place your hand on her boob.

“Ya, when I told you to take your jealousy out on me, you really went all in.” You say surprised and with a smile.

“It wasn’t too much?” She asks and you shake your head.

“It was perfect. The only complaint is that I couldn’t touch these magnificent breasts.” You tell her and squeeze them. She giggles and then goes on her back to let you touch her all you want. “You don’t have to worry btw. I’ve only had eyes for you and no one else.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Good, because I want you and don’t want anyone else to touch you.” She says as she strokes your cheek and you lean into her touch.

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