#Teach children not to play with fire.
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easykorean · 8 months ago
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Easy to Learn Korean 1755 - Fire Prevention and Safety (part one).
Continue reading Easy to Learn Korean 1755 – Fire Prevention and Safety (part one).
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tropicana-on-the-walkway · 10 months ago
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If I'm not a hot milfy mom with a beautiful Tuscany themed home and a plump chef kitchen by the time I'm 30 I'm giving everyone explicit permission to shoot me in the streets
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midnightorchids · 2 months ago
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i am frothing at the mouth at firefighter!Jason🤤
I’ m imagining Jason accidentally bumping into reader who so happens to be a school teacher and he can’t help but flirt just a little bit whilst the class of kids he’s educating on fire safety look at them both with wide eyes😃
I absolutely love this idea so much! I wrote something based off of this ask and low key went a little overboard with world building, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!
Field trip mornings always created an exciting buzz amongst your students. Their gentle chatter filled the chilly parking lot of the old school and you giggled at their enthusiasm.
The moment brought a sense of nostalgia, it engulfed your heart in a warm embrace. It reminded you of your days in elementary school. The memories of bitter autumn mornings and your teacher’s frustrated attitudes played before your eyes. You smiled thinking about your past and how those small experiences inspired you to pursue a teaching career.
This field trip was a special one as it happened to fall on Halloween Day. The children complained about having to come to school on the holiday, but as soon as you mentioned that they could come costumed, the excitement was back. Your third grade class did not disappoint, they were all dressed in bright costumes for their first ever visit to the fire station.
The bus ride was fairly normal. The children were a mix of both calm and rowdy. You intervened every once in a while when their noise level got too loud, otherwise the students were well behaved.
Entering the fire station was like entering a dream. The foyer of the building was warm and inviting. The heat radiated off of the walls and it made you slip off your coat. There were Halloween decorations coating the pale walls and you watched your children ooh and ahh with excitement.
Your eyes were still scanning the room when a tall man walked over towards you. He wore his uniform around his waist with a black compression shirt that hugged his body. You could see a sleeve of tattoos on display and a thin silver chain peaking through from under his shirt. Despite not wearing your coat anymore, you still felt your body heat up.
You stared at his name tag—Jason, it read. You recalled the name from the numerous emails and phone calls you had exchanged in order to make this tour happen. You always thought his voice was sweet, but you had never imagined him looking like this.
He was attractive—breathtakingly so. His eyes radiated a bright shade of emerald and were full of life. He had heavy bags under his eyes, which, you assumed, were from working long hours at the station. His facial features were sharp. His cheekbones stood high and his hooked nose sat perfectly poised on his face. He looked like a Roman sculpture. Your eyes trailed down to his lips and you noticed a small scar on the right side of his mouth. You felt your fingers twitch, almost as if they were itching to trace the mark.
Jason cleared his throat, pulling you out of your deep trance and you felt goosebumps trailing your skin. You quickly spoke up, trying to ease the tension.
“Hello, my apologies, I completely zoned out, it’s been a long morning,” you said, desperately hoping that he believed the poor excuse you made to justify openly checking out the man.
You suddenly felt even more uncomfortable, you looked to your side only to notice all of your students staring right at you. You felt yourself getting flustered again, but quickly moved past the feeling. You extended your hand to shake Jason’s calloused ones. His eyes raked your figure and he gave you a sly smile.
“It’s okay,” he responded gently. “Shall we get started with the visit,” he changed the subject quickly and you couldn’t be happier.
Jason turned his attention towards the children and greeted them with an enthusiastic expression, his passion for his job clearly reflected in his way of speaking.
He led your tiny class towards the breakout rooms of the fire station. On the way to the rooms, Jason pointed out one of the girl’s Wonder Woman costumes and he shrieked in an endearing sort of way. He kneeled to the girl’s height and handed her a small sticker. She smiled, thanking him. Jason then locked his eyes with yours and called the girl pretty, and you knew at that moment that the comment was not only for her, but for you too. You felt a rush of heat run through your cheeks and up to your ears.
The breakout rooms were similar to the foyer of the fire station. There were little skeletons propped up against the whiteboards and small jack-o-lanterns on each desk.
Once the children had settled, Jason handed the rest of them with fun stickers and pamphlets about fire safety for them to take home. He joked with the kids, and managed to sneak in a fire pun every now and then. He was a good listener, he paid attention to everything the children had to share. You turned your head to the side and silently admired his ability to work with the kids; not everyone could handle a group of eight-year-olds first thing in the morning.
Jason quickly gave the class a presentation about the dangers of fires and the importance of protecting yourselves when dealing with hot objects. It was odd, he wasn’t even trying to hide his flirtatious comments, he’d stare right at you upon the very mention of the word “hot.”
You noticed Jason had a habit of walking around the room, maybe it was to keep the students engaged or maybe he did it for his own reasons. But it had got to the point where he’d brush past you, almost purposefully. The parts of your skin that made contact with his body were on fire.
After the presentation, Jason decided it would be best if the kids got a quick break before continuing the tour of the fire station. You happily agreed, needing a break yourself.
You sat on a chair close to the exit, when one of your students came to you on the verge of tears—the culprit being a paper cut. You cooed at the child, gently cupping their much smaller hand and guiding them to your first aid kit. Unknown to you, Jason was watching the interaction play out.
He hadn’t known you long, but he thought you were stunning. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, the way your features sat against your skin, and the way you spoke with such eloquence. It was everything he found attractive, but seeing you showcase such patience with the “wounded” child, made his heart race. Not only were you beautiful, but you were kind—to Jason, in the very little time he had known you, you felt like an angel.
“Do you like them,” a small voice suddenly spoke. It was the Wonder Woman from earlier and Jason smiled.
“Ah the lovely Wonder Woman is back,” he replied, ignoring the child’s question. The little girl giggled.
“I think you have a crush on my teacher,” Jason raised his eyebrow. What did this little girl know about crushes? The child laughed again and said, “I think she might like you back.”
“What makes you say that,” Jason inquired, now suddenly interested. The little girl shrugged and made a face.
“I dunno,” and with that, she ran off, leaving Jason confused.
After the break, Jason guided the students to the main hall to show them the fire trucks. The energy was high in the room, the kids were beaming with excitement. The tension between you and Jason only seemed to rise though. With every passing flirtatious comment and every lingering look, you felt yourself getting more anxious. How inappropriate would it be if you asked for his number at the end of the field trip… you caught yourself thinking.
It was as if Jason had read your mind because at the end of the tour, he pulled you aside to thank you for bringing in the children and letting him have the opportunity to teach them. You grinned and also expressed your gratitude. You began to walk towards the students, when Jason grabbed your wrist and held onto you gently. He slipped a piece of paper into your palm and sent you a quick wink before heading out.
You stared at the small paper and slowly opened it.
Inside, the words read in messy lines, “call me,” with a string of numbers. You looked into the direction that Jason left, and smiled to yourself.
You were definitely going to call him.
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littlemssam · 2 months ago
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Patch Updates
As always delete old Mods Files and the localthumbcache, when updating my Mods!
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Make sure to download the updated XML Injector when you Patch your Game!
Patch 1.110.265 Updates (All other Mods should still be compatible!):
Advanced Birth Certificate Anti Heat Pill (Pets) Autonomous Gardening Autonomous go Jogging when Sims are Stressed & Children can Jog too Better Butler (and Hire more Butler) Better Nanny (Second Nanny & more) Calendar Tweaks Carryable Performance Stage plus Sing Songs! Collectibles (Rock Digging) Rework (Slower/Harder) Flea Market appears every Sunday Food Delivery Service Go for a Walk with Cats Healthy Drinks Hire certain Vet Employees Hire certain Sims (incl. Family Members) at Restaurants Housewarming Party (instead of Welcome Wagon) Improved Kids Night Light Improved Practical Spells Kids can go for a Walk with Dogs Let Friends Age Up More Away Actions More Buyable Venues and new Venue Types More Woodworks My Little Neighborhood Objects don't share Inventory Parenting Skill for Teens & more Personal Objects (Computer, Tablets & more) Power Napping on Sofas Pregnancy Overhaul - Pregnancy Belly Part Pregnancy Overhaul - Can do more Part Retail Overhaul - Hire certain Employees Part Retail Overhaul - Go Shopping – More Options Part Sell more self made Woodwork at the Flea Market Sleep In Small Archaeology Overhaul Small Invite to Hang Out Overhaul Teach me the Rumbasim
Random Small Mods
Auto Grab Drink when Eating Purchased Items delievered via Mail Keyboard Piano sounds Copy Graduation Photos and Diplomas Better Power Water Production Higher Skill Faster Candle Making Bouncer Only Homeless Sims Fan Stans Only Homeless Sims New Hug Animation If Confident No Auto Club Gathering (Active Household) Horse Jump Parkour Teen Can Buy Lottery Ticket NPCs Auto Massage & Meditation Vampires No Cold Breath Lower Fire Chance Vacuum Time and Autonomy Changes Release all Ghosts & Get Urn for
Random Bug Fixes
Deliver Baby at Hospital Elevator Fix for Toddler & Pets Murphy Beds Fix Trait Buff Fixes Weather NPC Deaths
Probably obsolete, pls remove and test without it:
Stop Eating Spoiled Food Fix
EA patch fixed that in 1.110.265 "Sims will not eat spoiled food autonomously."
Other adopted Mods
Always keep a Doctor at Hospital Change Into Towel Everywhere Faster Gardening Homework Tweaks Immortality Potion Tweaks Keep Books after Publishing Kiss Neck for Adults More traumatic divorce for Children Play Cards Anywhere Subject Homework Tea for Children Violin & Guitar Bugfixes
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My Site with all possible Download Links: lms-mods.com
Support Questions via Discord only please!
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stilesmieczyslaw · 6 months ago
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Stubborn Longing
*****Minors DNI!! 18+ Only content. *****  Words: 8.5K Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female Velaryon/Strong reader  Summary: Aemond swore that one day you would be wed. When the time actually came you wanted nothing to do with him and his prejudices. Slowly you remember how close you used to be.  Warnings: Targcest, Sex (P in v), masturbation, grinding, enemies to lovers? Friends to enemies to lovers? Slightly OOC Aemond. Lots of background filler and time jumps before the smut, smut. Loss of Virginity. Slight mention of blood. Fingering One swear word. No use of Y/N (If I miss anything let me know) The author is dyslexic and apologises in advance.  AN: I'm a Daemon girlie. But somehow I've been sucked into Aemond girlie territory. I can't get enough of your beautiful writing and fics... And edits. You're all fantastic and I hope you enjoy. Read my other unrelated fics here
You were the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Your hair was brown and curly. Your complexion looked nothing like your father's. Yet still you thought nothing of it. You had fond memories of laughing in the gardens with your father. Chasing him around trees and getting dirty, sneaking extra pieces of cake from the dessert table. Your mother would sometimes scold you both but she also encouraged it. If the people at court saw you playing with Ser Laenor then maybe they wouldn't question it.
You also had fond memories of your mother. You didn't understand what was wrong but there were some days, when she thought she was alone where she anxiously played with her fingers, absentmindedly staring into the fire. Tears at her water line but never shed. You silently wandered over to her and put your head on her knee. The first few times shocked her but now she grew accustomed to it. She stroked your hair and you drifted off. You woke again in your room unknowing how you got there.
You don't remember your younger brother Jace being born. He was just always there. But some days he was boring. He just lay there in his bed - which was unfair. Why was he allowed to sleep in mother and father's room while you slept in the next one?
The only other children to play with were your Uncles and Aunt. They had white hair just like your mother, father and grandsire. Your eldest Uncle, Aegon, sometimes would play but sometimes would be dragged away for lessons as he was older than the rest of you. Helaena your Aunt always seemed to prefer the company of bugs. Always finding somehow the biggest. Although custom would say you would spend your time with her. You were of similar ages.
But secretly you'd always spend time with your uncle Aemond. It started off as games you'd play together. Although his mother disapproved of these games. Or more so you. She was worried her son would get too attached to the bastard children. She could not let this happen. But what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. As you got older you'd find yourself alone with Aemond reading books. Both of you wanted to learn. More than what was expected of you. You'd teach each other High Valyrian.
Aemond was your best friend. You'd spend all day with him if you could but he had to learn to fight while you had to learn to be a wife.
"You should be my wife," Aemond said out loud after you had returned from one of your lessons. "Us?" You scoffed. He looked at you offended. "I did not mean it like that." You waved him off. "Your mother hates us being friends. Never mind us being wed." "Well, I was taught a good wife should know her husband. Who knows me better than you." "That is a good point and I wouldn't have to leave Kings Landing." You nodded. "But I'm sure your mother would try to find you someone else anyway." "What if I could convince her?" "You won't." You almost sang looking down at your book.
After the birth of your third brother Joffrey, your mother announced you would not live in Kings Landing anymore. A third child who did not look like her husband. What did it matter? Their father was their father and they all looked like each other. Did white hair matter when inheriting the throne? Apparently, it did. Your mother gathered all of your belongings while you begged her to stay. 
You were to live on Dragonstone. To which you were the heir. You might as well get used to it now. When your mother becomes Queen it will be your home and when your brother becomes king it will remain your home. You went to find Aemond for one final goodbye. You sat in the woods with him, underneath your shared tree. "You'll be back." He said rather confidently. "Will I?" You looked up at the castle. "When we wed." "You are a fool Aemond. But I admire you for it."
With your absence, his mother spoke more freely about your heritage. You were not your father's daughter. Aegon heard the rumours of Ser Harwin Strong. Aegon passed this knowledge to his brother. Aemond wondered how you could be the product of something so wrong. The more he heard it the more he hated it. How dare a bastard be his friend? Poison words enter the heart of a child so easily. 
Your father's sister died and the whole family were called to Driftmark for her final send-off. While you were sad for your father you tried to contain your excitement to see Aemond again. He had stopped replying to your letters. Maybe he was deep into his studies. When you finally saw him after months of missing him you couldn't help but run to him and hug him. His hug was stiff but you ignored that. 
"How is your plan going Aemond? Our marriage." You asked. "I miss Kings Landing." Part of you was joking, the other secretly hoped. You had missed him terribly. "If that's all you miss then maybe we should not get wed." The words were filled with hate. "Oh." You frowned. "It was a childish dream. I see now it does not matter. When I marry it must be for duty." "For what end would our marriage be then?" "It does not matter." He turned away from you.
For the rest of the night, you tried to talk to him again but he avoided you. You searched the castle on Driftmark for him and you found him at the wrong moment. You could hear the shuffling of a fight. You saw your brothers, cousins and Aemond fighting.  "You will die screaming in flames just as your father did...Bastards!"  "Aemond." You gasped. He turned to look at you. Horror in his eyes. He didn't mean for you to hear that. 
Your younger brother Luke took Aemond's moment of distraction to swipe at Aemond with a knife, taking his eye. He did not mean for the injury to be that bad but the past could not be rewritten. You shouted for help while Aemond lay on the floor bleeding. You were pushed away by The King's guard. Aemond's eye was lost and with it your friendship. 
The Queen wanted your brother's eye in return but your mother would never let that happen. But the Queen was determined. Her son lost something, so something must be taken in return. The King had a brilliant idea - Only in his mind. He proclaimed once you came of age. You and Aemond were to be wed. Something which this morning you would have taken with glee. But now you looked at the boy and glared. You hated him and by the look in his remaining eye. He felt the same. 
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
"Mother." You tried to get her attention. She was rushing around in a panic. "Mother please." "We must prepare for the journey. You are to be wed tomorrow and nothing is ready." "If we do not go then we do not need to be ready." You tried. "Your King demands it, my love." She sighed. "The King... Does not know me. Not anymore." You held your tongue. You had more choice words that you would not utter in front of your mother.
"Your Grandsire was there the moment you were born. The look of happiness in his eyes as he held you for the first time."  "And yet he strives to take my happiness."  "You and Aemond used to be so close. Maybe you can be again." She tried to remain positive. You shook your head.  "No. Not after what he called me. The disrespect to my father. Who won't even be here to see his daughter sold like a..." You bit your tongue again. 
"Sweet girl." Your mother played with your hair. She was nervous. Something was eating at her mind. "You may be husband and wife to the outside walls but you can control what happens behind closed doors. If you do not wish to be with Aemond in private you do not have to be." She didn't say it but you knew what she was saying. You nodded in understanding. 
The flight to Kings Landing wasn't a long one. You were on your dragon silently crying. This would be the last flight you would take with your family for a very long time. Your brothers flew in circles trying to make you laugh. You closed your eyes and listened to their laughter trying to keep it in your memory forever. 
Once landed and your dragon seen to, you looked up at the Castle. It did not look how you remembered. Nor did the people inside. Your Grandsire looked more tired and old than you last saw him. Helaena was the mother of two small children. Aegon looked like he was fighting back a smirk and Aemond... Aemond had grown so tall. His eye patch suited him and he looked at you with distaste. You tried to meet his gaze of fire with your own but you couldn't hold it. You hated it. You hated him. 
The day came and your Mother and Step Father officially gave you to Aemond. Your hands were tied and you uttered words that had no meaning to you. You sealed your marriage with a kiss. You kept your face neutral no matter how much you wanted to scream. The crowd cheered as you walked through them with your husband. 
There was a giant feast in your name. Food from all corners of the seven kingdoms was presented and music played. You found yourself dancing with your brothers. Your new sister Helaena. Even your Stepfather danced with you. Your mother stayed to the side. Her pregnant belly was only a reminder of the life you were going to leave behind. Were you to have a new brother? A sister? Would you know their laughter? Would they know your face? 
The music slowed and the King announced that it was time for you and Aemond to dance before retiring to your marital bed. Aegon laughed loudly. You danced the dance your mother taught you. Move after move. You felt numb. This was the worst night of your life. Whispers filled the room. You ignored them. You knew now why your mother sat and looked into the fire looking sad. But unlike your mother, you would not receive comfort. Not here. 
When you reached Aemond's, no, your chambers... Your blood which was supposed to be made of fire, turned to ice. You did not wish to lay with your now husband. It might have been your duty but you did not wish it. The torment he brought you and your brothers. Calling you Bastards. Your mother said you did not have to, but what if Aemond expected it of you? 
Aemond stood behind you. His beautiful wife. He had wanted this for so long. He knew he had wanted you as his Lady Wife since he was a child. He let his mother's hatred into his head and he had regretted it every day. Not just because he had lost his eye over it but he lost you too. He would never forget the look on your face when he called you a Bastard. The last thing he saw with both eyes. He lost you. 
When he saw you arrive on Dragon back his breath was taken away. You had become a beautiful woman in the years you had spent apart. How he longed to write to you but he knew his letters would go unanswered, just as yours had done those years ago. When he saw you again it only reaffirmed his want of you. But he could tell by the tears running down your face this is not what you wanted. So he hid behind his cold demeanour. One that he was used to, one that people expected of him. 
As much as he desired you, he knew you did not feel the same. His own family did not want him so why would his now wife be any different? He could not remember the last time someone touched him with kindness. Not even a hug. His mind flashed back to when his brother forced a whore onto him and he vowed to never do the same.
He spoke finally, knowing you wouldn't. "I won't touch you. Not unless you ask." "I will not ask. Ever." You replied coldly. You walked off behind the divider to put on your night clothes which had been brought over by the handmaidens. It was difficult to get out of your marital gown but you refused to ask for help. Not from a man who would call you a bastard. Not from a man who claimed you like property. 
Once in your night clothes, you walked straight to the bed. It was freshly made but you could tell by the items surrounding the bed which side Aemond would sleep on and you chose to climb into the opposite side. Not long after Aemond joined you.
It was strange seeing a woman in his bed. He didn't hate you. He remembers only fond memories of your childhood. Times he was bullied by his own brother and yours. You would be there to console him. Make him laugh again. It was foolish to think after all these years you could pick up where you left off. As friends.
He climbed into his side. The both of you almost hung onto the side to ensure neither of you touched the other. You both did not sleep out of fear of doing such. You both were angry and you both were saddened. The following morning continued in silence. Your handmaidens helped you dress. They ignored the lack of maiden's blood on the bedsheets. You trusted them not to gossip but you couldn't be certain of that.
You made your way to break your fast with your family. It was almost like a mini feast again. How any of you still had room after last night you would never know. But you filled your plate with grapes, strawberries and other sweet fruits. Your mother greeted you with a smile and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Aemond watched with jealousy. His mother would never treat any of her children like that. Not even when he lost his eye did she offer comfort. She only wanted revenge. He sat down and loaded his plate with whatever.
"I see the tiredness in your eyes brother. Did you remember where to put it? It has been a long time since you last used it. Surprised it hasn't fallen off with neglect." Aegon very loudly teased. "Aegon!" His mother scolded, looking around with embarrassment. You scooted your chair closer to your mother.
Soon midday came and it was time for your family to leave. Their dragons were saddled and their things packed. Your own dragon looked at them with confusion. Why was she being left behind? It did not help that she could also feel your own emotions of abandonment.
"Mother please." You tried one last time. Tears filling your eyes. Kings Landing had not been your home in years. The last time you lived here your father was still alive. How could you walk the gardens knowing he wasn't here, waiting for you to find him?  "I'm sorry my dear." She shook her head. "It is too late. Your vows were before Gods and King. I can not part you as much as I wish to. Your souls are bound." She gave you one last hug before tending to your brothers making sure they were ready. 
Your Stepfather watched with a frown. Knowing what it was like to be in a forced and unloved marriage. He took your hand. A very rare form of affection from him.  "Say the word and I shall end this marriage for you." He looked into your eyes looking for understanding. You had heard rumours of his first marriage. It was said among court he had killed her.  "Thank you, Uncle." You gave a concerned smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
You watched with tears in your eyes as your family flew away on their dragons. Your dragon roared after them. You patted her neck and hugged her. She is what was left. You did not go to your lord husband for comfort. You did not go to anyone for comfort. You stayed alone. 
Your handmaidens would fetch you food. You didn't want to leave your chambers. Were you acting like a child? Maybe but it felt like your only option. Rumours spread amongst the small folk that the high towers had imprisoned you with shackles.
The King, your Grandsire, would call you to his chambers. You sat in silence. You no longer knew the man in front of you. "I remember." He said very laboured. "You'd sit on my lap and help me build my masterpiece." He gestured to his miniature stone version of Old Valyria. A place neither of you had been. "You'd laugh at my jokes. Tell me Princess, what happened to your smile?"
"I have no reason to smile My King. I miss my family." "Am I not family?" The way he looked at you. An old man trying his hardest to keep his family together. He, just like you missed his family. His daughter, his brother and his grandchildren. He was bound to this place just as much as you were.
"Of course you are... Grandsire." You gave him an honest as possible smile. Far from the sparkle of happiness, he was used to. But better than nothing. "This was once your home, we, your closest friends, allies, confidants. We can be again if you leave your chambers. Walk the castle. Eat with us. Read with the maesters." "Yes, My King." You bowed.
You started off small. You would venture to Helaena's chambers. Eat with her and her children. You played with them and told them stories. They didn't understand your words. But they brought you much comfort in this time. Helaena also seemed to enjoy your company. Or more so did not despise it. Sometimes she would listen to your stories too. You loved the three of them. "Third draw. Left dresser." Helaena would mumble. The first time she said it you thought she was asking for something. But when you showed her everything in the drawer she would shake her head.
Then you would venture to the books and scrolls. Another place of your childhood. Piece by piece you were learning to smile again. At least in public. You still hung onto the edge of your marital bed. Trying to escape without falling.
One particular hot day you realised you could not stay inside. It was time to venture outside. Feel the wind blowing on your face. Picking up your book you followed your feet to your favourite tree. How you would spend hours reading underneath it. How your feet remembered the way while your mind did not, you did not know.
You followed them and gasped when you saw him. Of course. It was his favourite place to read too. While you had left this place he had not. He rolled his eye when he heard someone coming towards him. Normally it was some handmaiden telling him his mother required his attention. He just wished to read in peace.
He looked up and saw you. Book nestled on your hip like it was a babe. His mouth went dry. You remembered the tree?  "I'm sorry my Lord." You gave him a practised bow. "I did not realise someone else would be here. I did not intend to disturb you. I shall take my leave."  "Wait." He called to your quickly retreating back. "You need not leave." You turned to look at him. "The tree is big enough for us both to sit." He gestured to the floor. 
You hesitated. You really did love that tree. The tree never hurt you. In the wind, you could hear Aemond's laughter. His face was void of emotion but you could hear his childhood laughter.  "Yes, My Lord." You finally agreed sitting down. The tree separating you. Neither of you reading but thinking of the other person sitting on the other side. 
You both continued this new tradition for days. Maybe after the second week silence was broken. A squirrel ran past you. You gasped with delight at the tiny creature. You stayed as still as possible to not startle it.  "Aemond." You couldn't help but whisper. It was so quiet he almost didn't hear you. He turned to see what you needed. It must have been dire for you to talk to him after two weeks. He followed your gaze and saw the creature that brought so much light to your eyes. 
He remembered how much you loved the squirrels of the gardens. For one of your name days, he vowed to catch you one but failed to do so. But he enjoyed the laughter he got out of you in the process.  "Shall I catch it for you Princess?" He offered.  "No. I think he shall miss his family if you do. Leave him be." He didn't fail to catch the double meaning of your words. How was he living his dream when you hated him so? 
As more time passed you both found yourselves not sitting on opposite sides of the tree but closer to each other. Even in your bed, you felt more relaxed. You were starting to get used to life again but you still missed your family.
A raven came telling you the news of your new baby brother. Your heart almost burst with happiness and sadness in equal measure. You wished to go to Dragonstone to meet him but you couldn't. You must remain here with your Lord Husband... who must have a quill somewhere in these chambers!
You scrambled around looking for anything to write back to your mother with. Words of congratulations and excitement. But, you could not find anything. You went to his personal bedside dressers. It felt wrong to go in them. These were his personal effects. You would go mad with rage if he looked at your things. But you really needed to write to your mother.
You looked at the two dressers. Left dresser, the third drawer down. You opened the drawer and there was writing equipment but also old pieces of parchment. Curiosity got the better of you. They were your old letters. From when you first moved to Dragonstone. Letters you never got replies to. You laughed at things you once thought so important you needed to tell Aemond.
Beneath your letters, there was one you didn't recognise. You knew the writing, it was Aemonds. The letter was addressed to you but you never got it. He speaks of regret of his words to you on Driftmark. How he wishes to become friends again before you are wed. So many words are scribbled out. If he felt this way why not send it? Maybe you could have worked on something rather than marry in hate. Who knows where your relationship could have been if he had sent this? You borrowed an empty piece of parchment and wrote your letter to your mother. 
"Hello, Aemond." You greeted sitting down beneath the tree. He looked at you puzzled. You never greeted him.  "Princess." He gave a nod of acknowledgement. You almost felt giddy. Even if Aemond wrote that apology letter years ago part of you hoped he still meant it now. You sat in your usual silence but you could not wipe the smile from your face. Aemond opened his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. "What has gotten your spirits up?" You looked at him with a smile. You meant this one. He could see it in your eyes. 
"Mother has given birth to a son. I have another brother. I feel much happiness for her." That and his unsent letter but to tell him that would be admitting you went through his belongings.  "Oh yes. I heard." He nodded. At least this one wasn't likely to be a... He stopped his own thoughts. No. You were his wife. Your parentage did not matter. You had gone back to your reading but he could not get back to his. He couldn't take his eye off your smile. He hoped he could make you smile like that again. 
Another week had passed and you felt yourself become restless again. You had now been in Kings Landing for a handful of months. The Queen still did not speak to you unless she absolutely had to. The King was growing ever weaker. Aegon was a drunken fool. Helaena was sweet but you wanted to do something else. Not sit inside. Not sit and read a book. You thought of your poor dragon. It had been too long since you had seen her. Your one memory of your home on Dragonstone and you had been neglecting her out of selfishness. Today you would take her out. 
But you could not leave the keep without permission. They say it is for your safety but you knew it was to stop you from running away. With a deep breath, you went to find your husband. This time every day he would be training in the courtyard with the knights. You walked to the courtyard where he had amassed a group of people. People always wanted to watch him but you never understood. What was the point in watching the same people fake fight every day at the same time? 
You watched him fight off the knights with ease. Despite only having one eye it did not stop him from having reflexes that could rival 20 knights. His fighting was almost like a dance. Every step calculated. His footwork working side by side with his arms. Sword going exactly where it needed to go. He was sweating and you could see his muscles working. Maybe you could see the point in people watching him fight. 
The fight ended and Aemond fought to catch his breath. In the crowd of people, he saw you. You would only be here if you needed something. He sheathed his sword and made his way over to you. There was something about him breathless and sweaty with his gaze focused on you. It made you feel some strange way. Nothing you had felt before.
"Aemond." You were almost breathless yourself when he was finally in front of you. "I would like to go for a ride." He pulled almost an amused face which was lost on you. "The Dragon keepers say my dragon has grown restless. I need to go for a ride."  "She grows restless. Or yourself?" He mused. "Both. So may I?" "As you wish Princess. But allow me to accompany you."  "Oh no. I wouldn't want to take you from your schedule." You tried to wave him off. 
"A good husband always makes time for his wife. Especially if that request is a ride." He almost smirked again.  "What is so funny?"  "Nothing."  "It's something. I'll get it out of you Aemond Targaryen." You pointed a finger at him like old times. "I'm sure you will." He let out a small chuckle. He went to link his arm with yours to walk you to the Dragon Pit, but remembered his vow. Do not touch. One playful conversation in weeks does not mean that changed.
You got yourself ready for your ride. Making sure that everything was fastened tightly. You hugged your dragon apologising it had been so long. When she put her head on top of yours you couldn't help but think of your mother. She would always be with you.
"Are you ready Princess?" Aemond's voice called out. You looked over and saw him ready to climb onto Vaghar. How he managed to claim her as a boy you would never know. You nodded. You got on your own dragon and urged her forward. She almost ran for the door. Once in the air, you felt free. Freer than you had in a long time. There was nothing but you, your dragon and the air.
Well... and your husband but he was flying lower. You could see for miles. You turned your head in the direction you knew to be Dragonstone. What were they doing? How were Joffrey's lessons going? How faired your mother and the babe? How easy it would be to fly back to them. But you could not. You would bring shame to yourself and your family. 
Aemond watched you. He always found himself thinking back to his childhood with you. How you had a dragon and he did not. How you'd promise him that you could fly together one day. And here you were flying together now. But again it was not how he imagined.
You looked down and almost laughed at how small Aemond looked compared to his dragon. His legs straddling the saddle. The way he used his legs to steer the direction he wanted to go. An image flashed in your mind of him straddling you. You shook your head. Where did that come from? The same feeling from the courtyard entered your mind. That strange feeling. You felt yourself move uncomfortably.
"Are you alright Princess?" Aemond called out to you. "Yes quite well. I must have not ridden in so long my legs grow tired." "Shall we retire?" He suggested. "Yes, I think so." You agreed before returning to the Dragon pit.
"Thank you for today Aemond. I appreciated it. If I ever require your services and a ride." You paused waiting for his reaction. "I'll let you know." You don't know why you did it, but it felt so right. Walking away you made sure to sway your hips more than you usually would.
More days passed and you found yourself watching your husband train from a balcony. Always that feeling came to you. What was it? You changed your posture, your thighs rubbing together and something felt good. You did it again and you had to bite your lip. You excused yourself to your chambers. You lay on your bed rubbing your thighs together and it felt amazing. A knock on the door pulled you from your playing and you felt embarrassed. Whatever that was, it was not fit of a lady.
But still, you could not help yourself. From those days on you would excuse yourself while Aemond trained. He would be gone for a few hours every day and in those hours you explored your body. You found all sorts of spots that made you feel good. One day while touching yourself an image of Aemond popped into your head. You imagined your hands were his and your pleasure doubled. You looked at the door longingly hoping he would come in and find you like this but he never did.
After that, everything he did drove you crazy. Even he slouched on a chair drinking from a goblet you wanted to climb onto his lap. You wanted a ride. You wanted one so badly.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
You woke first. All night you had dreams of Aemond touching you. There was an ache between your legs that wouldn't go away. You tried pressing your legs together in hopes of something eliminating the feeling but you couldn't. You couldn't touch yourself with him just there. You wanted him to touch you. All you had to do was ask. But what if he didn't want to anymore? What if he had grown accustomed to your mental absence that he did not wish to be with you? You wouldn't blame him. 
Images of him fighting in the courtyard filled your mind. His skill and passion. How sweaty he sometimes got. The way his hair would stick to his forehead. This wasn't helping you. It was making it worse. He was still sleeping soundly next to you. Maybe if you got a bit closer.
You remained on your side facing away from him. For if he woke up you could claim you moved in your sleep. You backed up slowly. You could still hear his deep breathing meaning he was still asleep. You backed up until you could feel his breath on your neck. It sent shivers down your spine. You still did not touch him, however. Now you waited.
It felt like an eternity but eventually, his deep breaths stopped. You obviously had no idea when he opened his eyes as you were facing away from him and also pretending to sleep. But you did hear his involuntary gasp when he noticed how close you were. He did not make a move to touch you but he also did not shy away.
He looked at your sleeping form. You were so close to him. He looked down and saw each of your curves beneath the sheets. He wanted so badly to run his hand down you. Starting from your shoulders, past your stomach, around your hips and your legs. That is when he noticed. It wasn't even his first thought when he saw you this close but now it was his only thought.
How close your ass was to his crotch. His trousers were already tight with it being morning but even more so now. If only you were a small bit closer then he could feel you pressed against him. He could rub himself on you. Your night shift let his imagination run wild. He clenched his fists to his sides. He promised he wouldn't touch you. Maybe he could sneak away. Deal with himself before you wake up. If you noticed and questioned his absence then maybe he could claim early morning training.
Before he could move you grew bored of this position. He had been awake for several minutes and had not made a move. You commended him for keeping his word but his word was not what you wanted right now. You wanted anything but his word. Keeping up the pretence of sleep you turned so now you were facing him. You wished you could have seen the look of shock on his face. If the view from your behind was anything the front was better.
Your hair was a mess. Soft brown curls were on your pillow and over your face. He remembered others calling you names because of your hair but he now knows it is perfect. It is a part of you. His eye travelled further south and landed on your breasts. The position you were in was pressing them together. His fists were almost shaking with how tightly he kept them to his sides.
He closed his eye and began to talk to himself in his own mind. 'She does not want you. She made that clear. She does not want to be touched by you. She wanted a different husband. A different husband who she would have let touch her. A husband who wasn't you. A husband who would know what she felt like... what she tasted like. Does she know? Does she touch herself when I'm not around? Who does she think of? Some lord? Some stable boy who smiles at her every day?' He grew jealous of his own thoughts and opened his eye to be free of them.
When he did he saw your eyes were open. You were looking at him. You had spotted how close you were and you did not recoil. He could see a hint of anger in your eyes. He should have moved away the moment he got the chance but he couldn't. He was so transfixed on looking at you and now you were angry.
He went to back up from you and you moved closer. This puzzled him. "Aemond." Your voice called to him. Far too awake for someone who woke up less than a minute ago. Unless you weren't asleep. "Yes." He answered like a million thoughts were not running around his head. "Touch me. Please Aemond." You almost begged. He was in shock for a moment. Maybe he was still dreaming. The look in your eyes, wasn't anger, not anymore. Your pupils were dilated. He noticed you rubbing your legs together. This was happening.
"What?" He knew exactly what you had said but he wanted to hear you say it again. "Aemond I would like you to touch me. Please. Touch me." You lifted your hand and ran it down his face. He slowly lifted his own hand and placed it on your waist. His eye closed. He had waited so long for this moment.
You sat up from laying down. His hand fell from your waist. His eye shot open. Surely that couldn't have been what you wanted? For him to touch your waist once and be done. He hadn't upset you, had he? His worrying thoughts were gone the moment you swung your leg around him so now you were straddling him. Your bed shift scrupled around your hips. Your legs bare to the side of you. He was reminded that there was nothing under your shift. The only thing separating the two of you were his own clothes.
You both looked at each other frozen in that moment. You had no experience in this field but something drew you to sit in his lap like this and you were glad you did. You could feel every inch of his outline against you and it felt good. But what now? Aemond saw the look of innocence on your face and almost came right there. With both hands, he held onto your hips and dragged you forward. The noise you made would stick with him forever.
It was a mixture of shock and pleasure. You felt a little embarrassed at it. A lady should not make that noise. Before you could say anything Aemond did it again earning the same noise. It felt so good. Maybe if you just... you dragged your own hips forward without his direction and it felt just as good. "Aemond." You said suddenly not knowing any other words. Any you did know were gone.
He sat up changing the position you were in. His chest was pressed against yours. You looked at him under partially closed eyes. You rocked your hips again and your eyes closed fully at the new sensation. Who knew him just sitting up would feel so different to him lying down?
He called out your name and you looked at him. He pressed his forehead against yours. "Do you want this?" He tried to confirm. "Truly." You nodded. He let out a laugh. "I want to hear you say it." "I want you. I want you so bad Aemond." You almost sounded like you were whining. "I have for a while now. I need you." He smiled at you wickedly before his grip on your waist became like iron before it travelled to cup your ass. From this new position, he ground you against him faster and more forcefully. Your eyes rolled backwards as your jaw dropped open.
He placed kisses on your neck enjoying the sounds you were making. He had dreamt of these sounds but they sounded so much better in real life. He nipped and pulled at your flesh with his teeth. His lips went lower but to his dismay, you were still wearing clothes. While your shift had fallen slightly to reveal your shoulders he wanted more than that.
He lifted his hands from your behind and held the edges of your clothes. He looked at you almost asking for permission. You nodded and he pulled it over your head. Now you were in front of him completely exposed. Your nipples hard and the mess you made on his trousers. Wet from where you had been grinding against him. He was in awe of your beauty. You almost hid yourself away from him but before you could he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples which earned him a brand new sound.
He placed one of his hands back into position getting you to grind on him again while the other played with your other breast. You were his. His wife. And the sounds you were making were his too. "Aemond." You called out to get his attention. He looked at you. His own spit coated his lips. He looked so good right now. Although his hair wasn't stuck to his forehead yet. That is what you wanted.
You took his hand from your breast and guided it between your legs. He had seen women at the brothel do this but he didn't know why. You lead his fingers to a sensitive spot and with your guide, he began to rub that spot. "Fuck." You moaned out arching your back. He watched your face crumple up. "How did you know to do that?" He teased going faster. "Have you been touching yourself? Not very ladylike." You nodded. "Tell me. What were you thinking of?"
Your cheeks immediately flooded red. Him. Always him. "Hmmm." He probed for an answer getting faster and faster. "You." You couldn't catch your breath. "You Aemond." You practically shouted. You could feel the familiar feeling in your lower stomach. But there was also something different about it.
"You should have told me. I could have helped you out." He teased more. How long had you been thinking about him? Was it as long as he had thought of you? "I did say all you had to do was ask." You nodded. "Yes, I should have." You agreed. Almost there. "I wanted you so badly. I... I..." your words got caught in your throat. "You what?" "I" was all you managed to get out before your climax washed over you. It was different from usual. Normally your hand would be caught up in your orgasm that you would stop rubbing your clit meaning you would only feel it for a few fleeting moments. But Aemond did not stop. He kept going watching you come undone on top of him. Your whole body shook.
You looked so beautiful in that moment for him. He needed to do this again to you. Now he knew what it was, he needed it again. Once your body stopped shaking and your eyes closed with tiredness he removed his hand. You felt like you might wobble off the top of him. "Ready for my turn Princess?" Whether or not he meant that as a pet name or your official title, you would never figure it out. You gave a nod.
He flipped you over so now you were on the bottom. You were still in a daze. "Look at what you've done to my trousers." He scolded. You looked down and tried to ignore the bulge and only focus on the giant wet patch. Maybe you might have felt embarrassed but you didn't care. "You felt so good." You sounded like you were drunk. Aemond looked down at his wife, delirious and wanting more and he was more than happy to oblige.
He undid the strings that were trying their best to hold his waistband together. His dick sprung free causing him to wince at the sensitivity. He kicked his trousers away and you shot a sneaky look. Obviously, you had already felt it but you didn't imagine it would look like that. All stiff and leaking slightly. "Enjoying the view?" You were caught. Clearly not as sneaky as you thought you were. You nodded and licked your lips.
"I'll go as slow as I can." His voice suddenly went soft. "It might hurt." You nodded at him. He ran his dick up and down your folds a few times to gather your wetness. It sent small shocks down your spine. Was he teasing you? "Aemond?" You questioned. "Just enjoying my wife. The one who said she'd never ask." You bucked your hips up trying to meet him but he held you down easily. You began to squirm underneath him. You felt so empty. You needed him inside you.
"Don't make me beg again. I was wrong. I do want you to touch me. I do." He didn't move. "Aemond." You tried to sound annoyed but you couldn't. He leant his face forward and kissed your lips. It was then you realised that in all of this, you hadn't kissed him yet. This was your first kiss since the wedding and it made you want more. Why had you been missing out on all of this again? His tongue glided against your lips and you knew immediately what he wanted. You opened your mouth and let him in. For a moment you wondered what his tongue would feel like elsewhere. Maybe another time.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. You didn't miss the smile he had as he slipped himself inside you. You gasped into his mouth and pulled your face away. "I've got you." He reassured. "You're okay." You nodded speechless. He slowly moved while kissing you again. Your sounds of discomfort slowly turned back into moans. It was a strange feeling. He was reaching places your fingers could never could. "Faster." You breathed into his ear. He did as asked. 
Your extra sensitivity meant you couldn't last much longer. The sensation in your stomach coming back. When Aemond started making noises you knew he wouldn't last much longer either.  "Aemond." You couldn't help but shout. He began to nod.  "I know. I know." He began to repeat over and over. He kept one hand by your head while his hand went back to the spot you had shown him earlier. The shock of pleasure had your body jolt forward clamping your muscles. Aemond let out his own moan which sent you over the edge for the second time. Your muscles pulsated around him and he finished inside of you. 
He stayed inside of you for a few moments catching his breath before rolling over beside you. You shuffled over to him and put your head on his shoulder. You looked up at him and saw what you wanted. His hair was a mess. You raised your hand and brushed it out of his face. He looked down at you puzzled. You moved your hand.  "What?" You asked suddenly worried that you had done something wrong. He took your hand and held it against his face. He leant into your touch. "What is it Aemond?" You were suddenly concerned. 
He took a deep breath in.  "Nothing." He brushed it off. Letting go of your hand.  "Don't do this Aemond. I'm your wife, as much as I have not acted like it. Please share your thoughts with me."  "I just fear now that you have gotten what you wanted from me, you will leave me."  "Aemond." You sat up brushing your own hair out of your face. You gathered the sheets to cover yourself. "I know what you think of yourself. I see it. You might think you hide it but I've known you my entire life." You turned back around to look at him. "I won't leave you." He didn't look at you, not believing you. 
You leant down to kiss him. You tried to put all of your feelings into the kiss. At first, he did not kiss you back but he got caught up in it.  "You don't need to believe me, at least not at first." You said pulling away. "But I will make sure you know. I will make it up to you. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you." You curled back up into his side. He moved slightly but only to hold you closer. You were in his arms as much as he was in yours. You both drifted off to sleep again. 
You both were woken by knocks at your doors.  "Prince? Princess?" It was your handmaidens.  "Go away," Aemond shouted at them. You giggled at his childishness. You heard the shuffling of feet.  "We should get up." You sighed. "Although I do not wish to." Closing your eyes again.  "We are needed for royal duties." Aemond agreed.  "Do any of your duties include training? I like it when you train." Aemond chuckled.  "Is that so?" You nodded at his question. "Watching you made me realise how badly I wanted you. Watching you sweat and be out of breath. I wanted to do that to you." "I can make it part of my duties. I do need to be ready to always protect the realm. And once I'm done I can find my Lady Wife." 
You pulled away from his arms and tried to get out of bed only to find yourself collapsing under your own weight and back onto the bed.  "It's like I'm on one of grandsire's ships." You giggled. "I might have to stay here all day." You beamed.  "Then how will you watch me train?" Aemond pointed out. You pouted. He kissed you. As he pulled away you pulled him back in for a second one. "I fear I have created a monster." 
"I'd like to say. In the future please feel free to touch me whenever you like. Well... Not whenever. We might cause quite a stir if we do that in court."  "Hmmmm." He traced circles on your side. "I like the idea of us sitting at the presiding table with my hand up your skirt." You shivered.  "Sounds like you've already thought about it." It was your turn to tease. He sat forward, his lips pressing against the shell of your ear.  "Oh, I have Princess. I've thought about many things."  "You should have let me know. I would have helped you." You mirrored his words from earlier. 
The both of you got dressed and Aemond led you by arm to see his sister Helaena and her children. You sat down and smiled at the children. Helaena looked at you once you were alone.  "Hot baths." She said. "Hot baths help with the pain." She went back to sowing while you felt yourself blushing. How she knew, you didn't want to know but you hoped nobody else did. 
You and she walked around the red keep taking the children for a walk. You heard grunting. You looked down into the courtyard and saw your husband and Ser Cole practising with swords. His grunts and breathlessness taking you back to this morning. Almost like he could feel your presence he looked up. He grinned knowing your thoughts. 
He told you, you'd end up married.
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beensbaee · 6 months ago
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𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ
summary; neteyam has always avoided y/n due to the fact that he cannot trust himself around her - but what happens when he is tasked to teach her?
pairing; neteyam!teacher x y/n
word count; 3.5k
HER BEWITCHING BOY
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
It was no surprise Y/n and Lo'ak were such good friends. Both of them had the same wild nature that always got them into trouble - and a distinctive laughter that caught everyone's attention.
Unlike Lo'ak, she was the tiniest bit more responsible. She was also more immersed in the clan too - often spending her free time playing with the younger children and asking the elders all sorts of questions - even finding new paths in the forest with Kiri to travel on.
Her relationship with little Tuktirey was just as sweet. She'd often find all sorts of ways to have the girl giggling and smiling, whether it was by making faces or telling her stories so silly that Tuk couldn't even contain her amusement.
There was just one Sully kid she wasn't close with. Neteyam was a year older than her - and he'd always kept his distance from Y/n.
She was not blind. She'd see how he'd be sitting comfortably with his family until Y/n would come. Even Jake had seen the way the boy's smile would falter as he would suddenly begin looking anywhere that wasn't towards her - giving her a curt greeting before excusing himself and leaving.
She'd try not to look hurt - but everyone saw how her ears fell in embarrassment at his behavior towards her. Lo'ak would brush it off, telling her to ignore him. Kiri herself would be confused but would always choose not to say anything as she took it upon herself to make the girl feel more welcomed and forget about her eldest brother's reaction.
Neteyam always seemed conflicted when his parents would bring up his apparent dislike for her - sometimes claiming he didn't notice he was treating her differently, and other times remaining silent when questioned why he treated her like she was something to avoid completely.
The truth was that he himself did not know either.
Well he knew, but refused to accept the fact.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Y/n was shuddering, Lo'ak howling with laughter as Kiri rubbed her arm soothingly
"It is ok, Y/n. Not everyone is perfect at aiming." Kiri said as a way to comfort the girl, discreetly kicking Lo'ak's leg and giving him a look that quickly stopped his laughter
"Eywa, I could have killed him." She groaned, hiding her face with her hands as Kiri looked at her with a frown
"But you didn't!" Lo'ak chirped up as Y/n sighed, slinging off the bow that had been on her back and holding the wood firmly in her hands
"As if he didn't already hate me enough." She mumbled, Lo'ak finally turning towards her with concern
"He doesn't hate you, Y/n. He's just... dumb?" He tried, but Y/n only sent him a sad smile
"He's a hundred times smarter than you!" She laughed, Lo'ak rolled his eyes as Kiri joined in with her own grin
"Come on, it is time to eat." Kiri said as the three teens made their way to the central part of the village where the clan gathered to eat meals together
After fighting over who sat next to whom, the lineup consisted of Kiri, Y/n, and Lo'ak in a row - everyone satisfied with the seating arrangement as they conversed amongst themselves. Jake and Neytiri sat a few rows down from them - and Y/n's eyes caught the familiar muscled back of Neteyam Sully as he sat down next to his parents and grandmother.
She winced, heart burning with shame as she looked at his bandaged leg. The same leg she had accidentally hit when wielding a bow.
Jake had insisted she'd be fine hours earlier when she refused to hunt with the weapon, handing her the bow and arrow and giving her a simple target  to practice her aim with while the hunting party was taking a break.
She'd usually hunted with a simple knife, expertly too. She'd excelled at many things - but her skills with a bow was not one of them
She'd fired it, her arm shaking with fear as her hand slipped. The arrow didn't stay true to its path at all and flew completely out of her sight. Moments after firing, they heard a sharp yell - Jake only turned towards her in disbelief with his mouth hanging open. Never had she seen her clan leader in such denial.
Her embarrassment was incomparable as she and Jake ran in the direction of the yell, only to find Neteyam kneeling over in pain as he held the gash on his leg with his hands, blood running over his fingers as he applied pressure to the wound.
Thank the Great Mother the arrow merely grazed him. Y/n had been brought to near tears as she apologized profusely for her actions. Neteyam merely bowed his head, mumbling that he was fine and clearly embarrassed himself by the situation as Jake quickly patched up the boy with his on the go medical kit.
He got up the second he was patched, insisting he was fine and leaving as Y/n finally gathered the courage to approach him
"Neteyam, Neteyam wait!" She pleaded, her voice desperate as he visibly froze in his path, slowly turning around to meet her eyes
"I know we are not friends - but please understand, I had no intention of hurting you. I am so sorry." She said, her voice was strained as she spoke, eyes pained as she struggled to convey her true guilt.
He remained silent, looking at her so intensely that she felt her back straightening subconsciously. He parted his lips as if to say something, mouth moving as he struggled to find the words before clamping it shut and shaking his head
"It is fine, Y/n. I am fine, please do not worry about me." He finally said, his voice foreign and eyes hard before he turned away from her, his muscles tense as he walked away.
She wanted to cry in that moment, her eyes stinging with shame as she turned away, unable to understand the clear aversion the Sully boy had for her.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Neteyam ate his food silently, occasionally cracking a smile at his fathers ridiculous jokes.
He couldn't stop himself from looking back to Lo'ak and Kiri, but his eyes didn't stay on them. They moved to the girl between the two.
The familiar feeling of his heart thundering in his chest returned as he looked away once again, closing his eyes while he struggled to keep himself from marching over to the trio and pulling her away.
He hated Y/n. He hated her so much sometimes.
He hated how he was reminded of her everywhere he turned. He hated how she'd braid flowers into her hair and how her clothes were always so out of place from the familiar brown and greens the clan wore - her pink and purple accessories only pulling his eyes towards her even more.
He hated how he couldn't control his heart around her. Never had he felt so out of control. He hated how easily she'd be able to have him do anything if she just asked, her voice a melody he'd listen to from afar - something similar to a drug. Something he desired so much but refused to have - the fear of addiction holding him back.
He'd promised himself it was just a small crush when he'd first seen her vibrant smile. 
He told himself anyone would have fallen in love with the way she so selflessly loved. 
He had to force himself to look away from her when she was doing simple tasks - eating, weaving baskets - even just praying - he'd find her eyes closed and content as her face was composed with eternal peace he wished to find.
He'd told himself to stay away from her completely because she wasn't someone he could trust himself to be around. The feeling of simply not understanding what he felt was what scared him so much. But her beauty - one that had his knees so weak he had to look away just to stand without faltering, was what terrified him the most.
Her beauty wasn't something unknown - she was the most enchanting na'vi in the clan through his eyes. Her delicate cheeks and round eyes with fluttering lashes had him in awe at times. But, as he watched another boy approach her as she ate - her curious eyes meeting him as he quickly struck up a conversation with the trio had him blinking rapidly.
He was seemingly talking to all three, but Neteyam did not miss the way the mystery boy's eyes would trail back to Y/n to seemingly try and catch a glimpse of her.
He clenched his jaw, looking down at the food in front of him with furrowed brows. Suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore.
He couldn't even be mad. He had no say over who spoke to her - and this wasn't the first time.
He'd seen numerous boys approach her before, and every time, he'd be watching the interaction from afar. Fuming with a clenched jaw as he struggled to kill the jealousy that was running through him like a storm.
The only thing that prevented him from intervening was Y/n's gently but sad smile as she rejected Every. Single. One. Nothing was more satisfying than watching her shake her head - indicating a polite no from her that had each boy walking away with slumped shoulders.
As if Y/n had felt his burning gaze, she lifted her head to look directly at him.
Her eyes - they had him swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked right back at her, refusing to break eye contact. 
She blinked rapidly as she stared back, her gaze struggling to hold the intensity in his eyes as she finally looked away.
He left dinner right after it ended, returning to his hammock with a pounding headache as he struggled to sort his thoughts.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
"Neteyam."
He slowly opened his eyes to find his mother standing over him, her eyes concerned as Neteyam quickly sat up with his brows pulled together in concern
"Is something wrong, Mother?" He asked quickly, his voice tired as she frowned
"Yes. You went to bed so early. Are you feeling ok?" She asked gently as Neteyam automatically nodded his head
"Mother - I am fine." He said, but his voice wasn't convincing enough to her. Just as she was about to say something, Jake walked towards them with hurried steps once he heard their voices
"You awake, boy?" He asked, moving to stand next to Neytiri as Neteyam nodded his head, his annoyance present in his sigh
"Why is everyone asking if I am ok?" He questioned as Jake and Neytiri looked at each other - their eyes obviously having some sort of an exchange he was not apart of
"You seem distracted lately." Was what Jake settled on as Neteyam remained silent
Quickly, Jake's eyes lit up as if he thought of something. He turned to Neytiri with a glint in his eyes that had her look at him expectedly
"Now, I need a favor from you. Think you can do it?" Jake asked, his voice firm as Neteyam nodded his head
"Of course. What do you need?" He answered dutifully, his mind still hazy from being awoken from his slumber
"I need you to teach Y/n how to wield a bow and fire an arrow."
Jake didn't miss the way Neteyam nearly flinched at his words, his eyes widening the slightest bit as well. But, he remained still and silent and gave them no further insight as to how he felt by the request 
Neytiri watched him carefully as Neteyam finally nodded his head, his knuckles pale from gripping the sides of his hammock so hard as his lips were set in a firm line.
"Yes sir."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
Y/n shuffled her feet as she watched Neteyam secure the last few necessary things they needed for the next few hours they were spending in the forest together inside of his bag.
His hands moved so gracefully - Y/n couldn't help but watch him as he placed one last arrow on his back, turning to her and gesturing his head towards the exit of the tent and towards the forest.
"Come on Y/n." He said, turning his back towards her as he led her into the forest, a clear destination in his mind as she recognized a few trees with markings on them with the path he was leading her on - clearly targets previous na'vi had used to practice with their bows and arrows on.
She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized the fact that these targets were probably made for children to practice their skills on.
Hunting with a bow and arrow wasn't required - and Y/n knew from the start she wasn't very good with one, so she didn't bother ever picking up one. But now, it seemed she'd have to learn how to master it, one way or another.
She turned to Neteyam, her voice quieter than usual as she spoke her true thoughts
"Do you think I am capable of even learning how to use a bow this late? Especially after..." She asked, her embarrassment evident in her voice as he turned to her with the same intense gaze she was used to seeing in his eyes whenever he looked at her.
"Well, of course you are. Mistakes happen." He said, silence following after his words as he saw the hesitation in her eyes - maybe it was his words, or maybe it was the fact that they'd never been alone together - and that he'd never really even spoken this much to her.
Finally, he smiled. It was such a small movement on his face, but she'd seen how his eyes had softened as the smallest of smile lines appeared. It was a change.
"Come here."
She obliged without hesitation, standing next to him only seconds later as he handed her his bow and an arrow. She grabbed his bow with careful hands, her fingers running over the intricately beautiful engravings in the wood as she admired it.
He was watching her, his gaze unwavering as he saw the small twitch of her lips as they formed a smile. She didn't notice his gaze - too focused on the bow, and he took the opportunity to look at her up close.
He'd never allowed himself to be this close to her - after the last time there had been such little distance between them her intoxicating scent had been the thing to keep him up for hours. But now, he closed his eyes and could only inhale it - his tail flicking as his senses recognized the sweet smell
"Hold it like this." He instructed
He didn't even recognize his own voice - it came out much rougher than he intended it to, but he forced himself to focus on the way her hands held his bow - searching for any mistakes with the way she was positioned that might be why she was having trouble firing an arrow.
His fingers mistakingly brushed over hers - and he felt himself letting out a breath to steady himself and calm his heart - it seemed like Y/n had also been thrown off by the small touch between them as she quickly blinked while staring at their hands.
Neteyam finally realized her mistake as he noticed the way her fingers went straight over the wood she was holding when they should have curved over the slanted piece.
He didn't trust himself to say anything without his voice giving away exactly how he felt, so he wordlessly moved her fingers - cupping his hand over hers and moving it into position and nodding his head
She met his eyes once he gave her the cue to fire her arrow, and she unleashed it - the strong string snapping it forward with impeccable speed as it hit the target right in its center
She looked at the target in disbelief as she let out a victory war cry one would use in battle - startling Neteyam instantly as she clapped her hands in pure excitement
"I got it! Neteyam I got it!" She exclaimed, her eyes shining with so much appreciation that she leaped towards the boy and tackled him with a hug
He only yelped as he fell backward and onto the grass, her body on top of his as she hugged him tightly - laughter spilling out of her as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her - before tightening them and reciprocating her ecstatic embrace
They stayed like this for a few moments - both of them holding each other so close that every single previous cold and awkward encounter of the two of them before faded away - the two so lost in the moment as they laughed
Finally, she pulled away - her eyes still crinkled with joy as Neteyam felt himself quieting once again as he stared at her. But this time, it was not with the usual emotionless stare - but with a gaze so open and with no facade, she too quieted as she felt the atmosphere change.
Finally he looked away, unable to look at Y/n any longer as he began speaking
"I am sorry for how I have treated you in the past. I... it was shameful." He finally spoke, words Y/n had been wanting to hear for so long - she didn't even believe he'd said them
She knew he had one of the biggest hearts ever - the snippets she'd catch of him with his siblings had confirmed that. She knew there was a reason he typically avoided her - and she had a very good feeling she was about to find out what it was.
"It is ok." She said, the sweetest smile on her face as Neteyam felt his heart crack at the sight
All the times he'd been so awful, so cold and distant - she'd forgiven. Because she had a heart of gold - something Neteyam felt he didn't deserve. Something he thought he wasn't worthy of.
"Y/n..." He struggled to finish the sentence as he stared at her lips, parted and simply begging for him - the urge to press his lips against hers was overwhelming
"Y/n, I do not deserve someone like you. I could not look you in the eyes - or speak to you all this time because of how I felt. I feel so much for you - it is like my heart is set on fire when I look at you sevin -"
The word had slipped from his lips - but she'd heard it.
Sevin. Pretty
She felt her heart flutter as she heard his words. He thought she was pretty.
He smiled at her reaction before shaking his head and reaching for her hands hesitantly. She reached forward slowly, lacing their fingers together with sparkling eyes as he cracked a grin
He knew she felt something for him too - because of the numerous boys that had pursued her, she never held their hands the way she was holding his - nor did she stare at them with eyes so round and filled with such a tender kindness as she did with him.
She leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against his to see his reaction. But he merely pulled her back in - his mouth enveloping hers as he moved his arms around her.
He kissed away all her confusion that night, spending the hours meant for her training with her hands in his hair and his face pressed against hers.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
six full moons later ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.
The tense Neteyam who'd always been frowning was replaced by one who couldn't stop smiling. He was the one who'd be more eager for Y/n to come over then his own siblings, the one who made Lo'ak gag dramatically whenever he and Y/n did anything even remotely romantic - the one who looked forward to seeing her the most.
In the beginning he wouldn't even stand next to her - and now, he refused to be separated from her.
They'd sneak out at night to gaze at the stars - a favorite pastime of theirs now as Y/n would lay her head on his chest and tell Neteyam anything and everything that came to her mind. Neteyam would do the same - saying things that would have Y/n giggling as she nuzzled her nose against his skin
"Tomorrow, you and I will have a date night." Neteyam said proudly, Y/n tilting her head up and towards with a smile 
"What is a date night?" She asked, her hands mindlessly playing with his fingers as Neteyam grinned
"My parents have date nights all the time - they go out to have their own private time, away from everyone else. You and I could pick all sorts of fruits to snack on - climb all sorts of trees with no one to tell us what to do." He said, voice gentle with his lips set into a soft smile
She smiled, gently moving her hand to his face as she traced over his freckles that glowed in the moonlight. He looked radiant in the day - but at night, he was bewitching. There was a certain thing about him and the night that comforted her more than anything else in the world
"Well then, we should have date night every night." She insisted as he laughed, the sound a melody to her ears as she merely smiled against him - the stars shining above the two for every date night they would spend together.
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sparkly-sediment · 15 days ago
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Speeding bullet headcanons
In light of comic 7
The gaggle of children frolicking about? Target practice
Nerf wars in this home go HARD. The destruction of peace at the hands of a foam bullet
Scout wants to be as good a parent as his Ma. So, whenever something happens, he responds whoever he thinks his Ma would
Sniper points out that while he loves Scout’s Ma, maybe the kids shouldn’t practice gang fights. Just a thought
They both love the children very deeply. Once Scout is living life as a single father and reconnects with Sniper, Sniper just kinda moves in and starts doing the kids hair in the morning
Adopt-a-dad
Small children love chaos and starting fires and climbing trees and these guys are not able to resist the temptation
Sniper channels his dad to discipline the kids (which causes him to look inwards at how his dad fucked him up) and Scout is surprisingly a natural at gentle parenting
This rambunctious, poor-decision making young man transform into a wonderful and present father. Kids have a school play? He’s there front row screaming. Kid misbehaving? He’s explaining their behavior and how to better respond next time
Scout takes all of them out individually to play ball and it heals something deep within him
Totally wrapped around each individual tiny finger tho LMAO Scout WILL buy it for them and Sniper WILL take them there
They go on family nature outings ❤️ Sniper teaches the kids survival skills and Scout carries them when they get tired from walking
Scout works out using the kids as weights
They build family forts and tree houses!!
AKA Sniper builds them and Scout sword fights the kids with branches
It’s a very sweet domestic bliss. Scout and Sniper both deal with PTSD from the gravel war and rely on each other to get through it
When Spy visits they give the children sugar first 😈
When the mercs visit the kids have a sit down talk after about why we can’t act like that
Sniper and Scout fighting with 23039483727171 children about why they can’t have a baboon even yes uncle Medic has one
Privately they question if Medic is related to the monkey
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frillsand · 2 years ago
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What jobs did Wally and friends do before becoming actors?
Before they became actors ✨🎥✨
I’m going to use this question to give more information from when they were younger. Before their lives as actors, they all lived in a secluded neighborhood where they all met over the years, with Wally and Barnaby meeting first as neighbors. Wally was often in charge with looking after younger kids because it was a small community and Wally just happened to be great with kids. He played a big role with them, serving as a kind of mentor. He usually spent his time entertaining the entire neighborhood when he wasn’t with his friends. As far as he could remember, Wally always knew he wanted to work with kids. He loved teaching them, singing to them, their energy, the brightness he felt when he knew that he was helping their path to the future, everything. It’s hard to dislike small beings that have never done wrong.
So when Wally got older, he decided to move to the city where he would pursue his dream of having his own children’s show. His friends, believing in his dream and not wanting to stay in that small community forever, went with him to help any way they can.
So here are the jobs that they had before their big break.
Howdy Pillar was a construction worker
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Eddie dear was a Milkman,(it’s not as cool as a mailman but whatever)
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Julie swept hair up at a hair salon.
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Frank worked at the public library
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Sally was part time at a small shop in the local mall.
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Barnaby worked long nights as a bartender
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Wally was a secretary to a very busy newspaper company. Often working 7 days a week nonstop
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Poppy had a difficult time keeping a job and was fired multiple times so they all decided that she was to stay and take care of the house while they were away. She would pack lunches for them everyday and kept the apartment clean. The parental instincts are strong in her with her being the oldest. 💖🌸
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Unfortunately moving to the city with no money , set them into debt quickly and with puppets being paid less, made it more difficult to keep up with expenses.
But they’ve stayed fairly happy nonetheless
Friends to Family trope if I may. I don’t think this counts as found family( my mind is slipping away more and more each day)
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dailyadventureprompts · 22 days ago
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Adventure: Evil's Favourite Princess
Artsource 1 Artsource 2
Adventure Hooks:
While taking shelter with a caravan or attending a festival, one or more of the heroes become the subject of fascination for an odd woman by the name of "Viv" who's very clearly not the "pretty peasant lass" she appears, and repeatedly claims to be. Her accent's all wrong, she doesn't seem to know how money works, and there's an odd coldness behind her eyes akin to a bird of prey. Just as the party's questions begin to mount, screams and cries fill the air; a fire has broken out, it's source turning out to be a rampaging hellhound. By the time the party have quelled the flames and vaniquhed the beast, "Viv" is nowhere to be found.
Word is that the Baron's men raided a dungeon a week or two back but but did such a botch job of it that there's now monsters displaced across the whole region, to say nothing of the cursed items they pocketed and the havoc they'd unleash once pawned for drinking money. Ah well, The royal magistrate's paying a premium for freelancers to help clean up the Baron's mess, which means lots of work for an enterprising party.
Some time later the party are cornered by a gang of tough figures bearing dark robes, curt questions, and wicked looking knives. They want to know all about their interactions with the woman they met earlier, and they're not planning on asking nicely.
While the sages teach that no one is born wicked, the sorceress Viatrix might come the closest. Conceived in a blasphemous ritual and tended to all her life by a dark cult that sought to raise her as an unholly messiah, Viatrix was set on the path of evil overlord from her very first steps.
The problem is, despite the stains on her soul, the calamitous prophecies that foretell her rise, and the fiendish powers at her command... Viatrix has gotten bored, and that boredom threatens the schemes of cultist and demon alike.
The party first meet Viatrix shortly after she's run away from home and left her cult is in an uproar, sending agents both mortal and fiendish combing across the countryside searching for her, causing all kinds of havoc in the process. It's very likely that whatever settlement/caravan the party are taking shelter with will be beset by imps, hellhounds, and hooded figures who attack innocents at night while asking pressing questions.
The problem with helping "Viv" with her escape is that she can only really mine at civility. She's been soaked in privlage and casual cruelty all her life the way a fish is soaked in water. She's laying low for now but she's used to having servants to be her footstools and demons to fetch her meals, and it won't take much frustration to have her resorting to her old ways. Perhaps the heroes can convince her to play nice, not spit indoors, and not remove the innkeeper's children's tongues because they were talking too much.
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saveyourblood · 2 months ago
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Pretty Boy - Ch 2 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Buddie x Reader)
Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.
Ch 1
Chapter Summary: Buck faces a few challenges, and you're there for some of them.
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A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: descriptions of gun violence, mental health issues/suicide ideation (nothing overly graphic IMO)
Unlike some people who work in this building, you know how to take orders. So, instead of dragging your feet and prolonging the inevitable, you go to Bobby’s office the second you get back from the call. Hen tries to say something to you, but you’re so focused on having this conversation behind you that you ignore her. 
Despite the door being cracked open, you knock a few times. 
“Come in,”  Bobby says. 
You step in. He looks up. 
“Ah,” he remarks as if it’s a surprise to see you. “You can close the door behind you.” 
You close the door and lean against it. 
“Have a seat,” Bobby instructs as he files through some random papers. 
You let out a sigh. You were hoping to be in and out, but Bobby clearly has other ideas. Still, you do as you’re told. 
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Buck.”
As if you’d be in here for anything else. 
“Are you gonna write me up?” You ask instinctually. You’ve never been formally disciplined, so the question is gnawing at you. 
“Buck wants me to.”
You snort. “Buck wants a lot of things; most children do.”
“You’re a year younger than him,” Bobby points out. 
It’s true—Buck is 26, and you’re 25. But in this context especially, age is just a number. You’re a 25-year-old advanced practice paramedic with 3 years of experience who acts their age. Buck is a 26-year-old firefighter in his probationary period who acts like a frat boy.
“Are you going to write me up?” You repeat. 
Bobby gives you a look, then sighs with a crooked smile. “No. But if you do anything like that again, you’ll be hearing from me and Sergeant Grant.” 
“Fair enough,” you cede. 
There are a few silent beats in the conversation. This is why Bobby made you sit—he has more to say. 
“Why does he bother you so much?” Bobby asks.
“Literally everything I told him: he’s wreckless and he’s gonna get someone killed if he doesn’t change.” 
“So why not teach him to do better, to be better?”
“Trust me, Cap, I’ve tried,” you chuckle. “I mean, even earlier today, I taught him how to clear an obstruction in a neonatal airway. And honestly? For a few minutes, when he was running down the stairs with that baby in his arms, I thought, ‘Hey, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.’ And then he yells at Sergeant Grant, and he proves me wrong. Again.” 
“I’m talking to him and Sergeant Grant about how everything went down,” Bobby says. 
“I’m not telling you that to get him in trouble, I just…” You take a deep breath through your nose and let it out as a sigh. “It felt like no one was holding him accountable. And I’ve tried playing nice, and I’ve tried teaching him, and he still had the nerve to pretend that he can play god. And I just… lost it, and thought that maybe if I treat him like a man would, he would finally listen to me.”
Bobby nods, taking in everything you’ve said.  
“You think I don’t hold him accountable?” He eventually asks. 
You let out another sigh. “If Buck worked under any other LAFD Captain, they would have canned his ass about three months ago.”
“But is that the right thing to do?” Bobby counters. “This job is tough, and it isn’t something that can be taught overnight. Buck has potential—he could be an invaluable asset some day.”
“Is firing him the right call? Honestly, Bobby, I have no idea,” you admit. “But if people have to get hurt in order for Buck to be good at his job, then it isn’t worth the price.” 
Bobby ended up firing Buck a few days later. It wasn’t for what happened with Sergeant Grant; it was because, apparently, Bobby caught him having sex with some girl on a roof. He used one of the fire trucks to drive there. The moron didn’t realize they have GPS trackers. You got all of this information in a text from Hen. 
You turn the corner to the locker room, planning to put away your keys and wallet before starting your shift like you always do. You didn’t expect to see Buck sitting on the bench in front of the lockers. 
You plan on opening your locker, throwing your stuff in it, and leaving before Buck can say anything. The second you lift the lever, though, Buck turns his head towards you. 
He doesn’t say anything, and you definitely aren‘t going to break the silence. 
“So you heard, huh?” Buck says. 
You close your locker and spin the lock to scramble it. “Yeah, I did.” 
“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” 
“Tough break. Sorry, man,” you say with a shrug. You turn on your heel to leave.
“That’s it?” Buck says with a laugh. “A few days ago, you were slamming me against an ambulance, and now… nothing? Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘I told you so’?”
Buck doesn’t even work at the 118 anymore, and he still has a way of getting under your skin. You close your eyes, hoping you can gain some composure before you say anything.
“I’m sorry for pushing you; that was unprofessional,” you say and make your second attempt at leaving.
“But that’s all you're sorry for,” Buck says, rising to his feet. 
You turn around and eye him from head to toe. His chest isn’t puffed out in that hypermasculine way it normally is. Buck shifts his weight between feet, and when the pressure of your stare becomes too much, he breaks eye contact. 
“It’s like Sergeant Grant said: I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” you eventually reply.
“Then say it: you’re happy to see me go.”
Jesus Christ, he can be such a baby. 
“Okay, fine, you wanna go there?” you retort, taking a step forward. “You wanna know the worst thing about you, Buck?” 
He just looks at you. 
“You. You’re the worst thing about you. Because you could’ve been good. You’ve got decent skills, and you have heart, but you have no discipline. You can’t take orders, and you can’t look at a woman for more than thirty seconds without having sex with her. You’re a 16-year-old boy trapped in a 26-year-old man’s body, and ever since you started, you haven’t done anything to change it. You get in your own way and are too busy flirting or running your mouth to even realize it.”
You take another step towards him to ensure he hears what you’re about to say. “You could’ve been good. And I hope that shit haunts you. Because maybe, it’ll finally make you grow up.”
You start to make your exit again but linger in the doorway. You turn back around; there’s one more thing you want to say.
“I’m not happy to see you go, Evan. In fact, I was really hoping you would prove me wrong.”
And with that, you’re gone. 
You and Hen go out on a ‘shortness of breath’ call that ends up being a STEMI — a heart attack. You get him to the nearest hospital in five minutes, and if they can get him to the cath lab, he has a really good shot at surviving it. The patient’s wife hugs both you and Hen, thanking the two of you for doing such a wonderful job. You savor the feeling; most calls don’t end this way. 
When you pull into the station, there’s an engine missing. At first, you think it’s no big deal: the boys are probably out on a fire call. Then you see Bobby standing where the engine’s supposed to be.
“What’s going on, Cap?” Hen asks as she closes the door to the rig. 
“There’s an engine missing.”
“Yeah, clearly,” you chuckle. 
“There were reports of a residential break-in on Lambert Street in Winnetka,” Bobby continues. 
“Damn,” Hen whistles. 
You both heard something about that over the scanner on your drive back to the station; there was a suspected hostage, a young girl. Last you heard, the subject was trying to flee by motorcycle. 
“All of the 118 firemen are accounted for,” Bobby concludes.
You and Hen share a look. Who has a track record of borrowing engines without permission?
The truck pulls up and slowly backs into the garage. You catch a glimpse of the driver in one of the rearview mirrors. 
“Pretty Boy,” you say simply. 
Buck steps out of the truck, still wearing the jeans and long-sleeved grey shirt you last saw him in. “I know what this looks like.”
“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes,” Bobby says as he approaches the younger man. 
“I didn't really have time to change,” Buck counters. He doesn’t say it in his normal cocky tone, though. Frankly, he looks nervous. 
“Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are.” Bobby continues. “Told her she was half right.”
Buck frowns. “Are you giving me another chance?” 
“You’ve used all your chances; so have I,” Bobby says, “because somehow I have failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”
Bobby starts to walk away, but Buck isn’t letting him get away that easy. 
“You're wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here,” Buck says, “and you know what? You were right to fire me.”
That makes Bobby stop dead in his tracks.
“I was a punk,” Buck continues, “still am one. But I'm a punk who understands what he lost. Just… needed you to know that.”
“I hope you mean that. Now go get dressed.” 
Buck stands cluelessly for a second, then turns to you and Hen. “I think I’m not fired.” 
“Your shift’s not over yet,” Hen points out. 
You go to follow her, but Buck stops you by calling your name. 
“I just wanted to tell you, uh…” Buck says, wringing his hands together. “I’m gonna prove you wrong.”
Normally, words like that coming out of his mouth would set your skin on fire. Between the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, though, something in your gut tells you to hear him out. 
“Yeah?” You ask simply, waiting for him to elaborate. 
“Some day, I’ll be good,” he says, “but until then, I’ll be better.”
Buck extends a hand for you to shake. It’s the most chivalrous thing you’ve seen him do since you met him. You look at his hand, then at his eyes. There isn’t a trace of humor in his gaze. You take his hand and shake it. 
“I look forward to seeing it.”
Your first call of the shift is to an amusement park where one of the rides malfunctioned. A rider was thrown from the ride as it was moving, and it sounds like he’ll be DOA. When the operator deployed the emergency breaks, though, it meant the rest of the train stopped at the top of a loop, which one rider is now dangling out of. 
Buck is the first to volunteer to climb the ladder and harness the passenger. You’re not surprised. He’s grown a lot in the last few weeks, but he still jumps at every exciting opportunity, no matter how dangerous it may be. Maybe that’s just how Buck is. 
“Hey, he’s asking about his friend,” Buck radios once he’s at the top. 
“Chimney, how’s the kid on the ground?” Bobby radios. 
You look up and shake your head. 
“We lost him,” Chim radios back. 
“All right, I don't need the people up there seeing that. So, do me a favor... He survived, right? Get him on a gurney. You know the drill,” Bobby instructs.
“Copy that,” Chim replies. 
Once you and Chimney get him on the gurney and out of everyone’s sight, you look up at Buck. 
“Come on,” Chimney mutters encouragingly. “Come on, Buck.” 
After a painfully long minute, you see the man’s grasp on the rollercoaster falter. Then, you watch him let go. You close your eyes before you see him hit the ground, but the sound will echo off of your eardrums for a while. 
You go the rest of the night without seeing Buck; you don’t share another call, and when you’re not out in the field, you’re asleep in the bunks. It’ll probably kill you in the long run, but these days, you learn to sleep whenever and wherever you can. 
When you wake up for morning report and breakfast, Buck is already sitting at the table. You wipe the sleep out of your eyes and get a cup of coffee before sitting across from him. 
Bobby was nice enough to make breakfast; he knows how hard these calls are. No matter how many you get, it’ll never get easier. 
Bobby sets a plate in front of Buck. 
“I’m not hungry,” he says almost instantaneously. 
“This is America, Buckaroo,” Chim replies as he sets some silverware on the table. “Eating has nothing to do with being hungry.
“Man, I was right there. You know, all he had to do was reach up and grab my hand,” Buck says instead.
“People do funny things at times like that,” you offer, sipping your drink. “ Sometimes they just freeze up.”
“I’ve never lost anyone before,” Buck says quietly. He looks up at you. “Does it get any easier?” 
Bobby answers for you. “No.” 
“Look, people die, and that’s part of the gig, right?” Chim says as he sits next to you. “See, your problem is, you're looking at every job like it's a long-term relationship. They're one-night stands, man. In that moment, they mean everything to you, but once the morning comes... it's on to the next one.”
“How silly of me to think you’d say something productive,” you roll your eyes.
Chim furrows his brows. “What?”
“You’re such a man,” you say to Chim, then turn to Buck. “Look, dude, we all go through it, and you just have to figure out a way to deal with it,.” You pause. “You know why we wear these uniforms?”
“Sex appeal?” Chim answers, which earns him a quick kick to the shin from you. 
“So people can easily identify us,” Buck responds. 
“That’s true, but… I don’t know, I like to think it’s because when we take it off, we can leave it all behind us. Right now, you’re firefighter Buckley, but when your shift is over, you’re Buck. It just… symbolizes letting go, I guess.”
“I see his face every time I close my eyes,” Buck says. “Does that happen to you?” 
“It’ll pass,” you promise. 
“And if it doesn’t?”
You stare at Buck for a moment. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same man who mouthed off to a police Sergeant mere weeks ago. 
“Then you talk someone,” you eventually say. “A friend, a therapist, a bartender… you find a way to let it out, and then you let it go.”
 
Once again, you don’t see Buck for hours. You heard on the scanner that the 118 responded to several rescue calls, none requiring an RA unit. You spent the rest of your shift bouncing from call to call and ER to ER, seeing everything from stab wounds to childbirth. It’s shifts like this that remind you why you do what you do. It’s chaotic, stressful, and bloody, but it is fun. After a certain point, you don’t even have to use your brain; the adrenaline in your veins kicks your brain into autopilot, and your pounding heart is just along for the ride. 
You step into the communal locker room, completely exhausted. You still have to change, and considering everything you’ve witnessed, you should probably shower too. Most of all, you want to go home and crawl into your bed. 
Buck is sitting on the bench in the locker room, similar to how he was a few weeks ago after he was ‘fired.’ Just like you, he’s still wearing his uniform. His head is bowed between his shoulders as his elbows rest on his knees. This time, his head doesn’t perk up when you open your locker. 
“I heard you used The Manuever today,” you spark the conversation. “Nice save.”
Buck finally looks up and then chuckles quietly. “Yeah, if only I could’ve done that a few days ago.” 
You take a seat next to him. “Still thinking about Devon, huh?” 
“I’m trying not to, I just…” Buck says, then cuts himself off as he shakes his head. 
“It’s easier said than done,” you conclude. 
“Yeah.” 
“Yeah,” you agree. 
Both of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You open your mouth a few times only to close it. You don’t want to tell this story; you hate even thinking about it. But if you’re going to sit here and tell Buck that he has to let things go, you have to do the same. It’s only fair. 
“The first person I lost… her name was Katherine Vanec. She was 17 years old, wearing a University of Washington shirt, white shorts, and black Converse High Tops. We got a call from her mother, who was at work when she started getting strange texts from Katherine. It was supposed to be a welfare check, and when the cops got there, they found her locked in her bedroom. When fire and rescue broke down the door, she had a .22 caliber revolver pressed to her temple.”
“Jesus,” Buck mutters. 
“Katherine had a history of Borderline Personality Disorder and suicidal ideation. She figured out that her high school sweetheart had been cheating on her for almost a year. They made plans together, I guess — they were gonna go to the same school, find a place off-campus to live together. He pulled the rug right out from under her, and she couldn’t take it.”
“So what happened?”
You smile sadly. “By the time we arrived, a negotiator had been talking to her for almost ten minutes. They thought she was in a good spot that all she had to do was put the gun down, and we would swoop in and 5150 her.”
“Involuntary admission,” Buck says. 
“Yeah,” you confirm. “That didn’t happen. When the negotiator asked her to set the gun down, she lost it. She kept talking about how every time before, she chickened out, and she couldn’t let that happen again. She turned the gun on us.”
“Suicide by cop.”
You nod as a few tears well in your eyes. Even all these years later, that case haunts you. “Her finger wasn’t near the trigger; she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just didn’t want to be alive anymore, and she couldn’t think of another way out. I can still hear the sound of the bullets tearing through her.” 
“Why are you telling me this?” Buck asks softly. 
You wipe at your eyes and clear your throat. “Let it out and let it go,” you answer, then nudge his shoulder with yours. “Your turn.” 
Buck smiles; the expression is bittersweet. “I keep replaying what happened. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else I could’ve done. Maybe I could have grabbed his arm, or maybe there’s something I could’ve said differently.”
“Or maybe, no matter what you did, it was always going to end that way,” you suggest quietly. “Maybe he felt the same way Katherine did—like he had no other way out. We can try to rescue people, but we can’t make them want to be alive. Some people just don’t want to be saved, Buck.” 
“That really sucks.”
You laugh. “Yeah, it does. I guess that’s why we have each other; it makes it suck a little less.” 
“‘Each other’ as in you and me?” Buck asks in a lighthearted tone. 
You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re thankful for the change of pace. “‘Each other’ as in the 118, which technically includes you and me.” 
“Sounds like a copout.” 
You laugh and clap a hand on Buck’s shoulder before standing. “Have a good night, Buck.”
You make it to the doorway before he says your name. You look back at him. 
“Thank you,” he says softly. 
You bite your lip, but it isn’t enough to conceal your smile. “Anytime.” 
Ch 3
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devsgames · 10 months ago
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I'm sorry but for people who cheer on mass game industry layoffs because they think it's some kind of upheaval that is going to "topple the AAA industry" or "teach them a lesson": I hate to break it to you but AAA studios have a metric shitload of money and despite what their press releases say, they really aren't hurting as much as they'd have you think right now. Thousands of jobs lost is a temporary setback to them; if it was actually a last resort move they wouldn't have all simultaneously put themselves in a position where they had to do it in the first place. These studios have been around for decades and will continue to be around, and they will continue to operate just as they have for the last thirty years because they have huge vaults and no morals. They aren't learning a lesson from this because most of them saw it coming but would never admit that.
Know who is being permanently impacted by games layoffs?
It's the indie studio making sick ass games you'll never get to play because they laid everyone off when a publisher tried to save money by pulling all their funding. The hundreds of workers who woke up one morning and found out they suddenly have no job to put food on the table for their children. The international workers who were let go from the job that supplies their visa that helps them stay in the country. The thousands of students who now have to compete over a pool of a dozen job openings, who will work in studios where all the senior staff and leadership who would normally be there to help mentor them into their roles were fired. The disabled workers who now no longer have health or insurance coverage for their survival. The workers who didn't get laid off but survived to see all their friends and coworkers lose their livelihoods for completely arbitrary reasons and whose morale has all but been completely obliterated. The workers in the Global South working for outsourcing companies who were relying on cancelled projects from AAA studios to put food on their tables.
So whenever you're inclined to assume that the suffering of workers is somehow teaching rich people a lesson, remember that no, it doesn't actually and almost never will. All it does is teach thousands of talented workers in the video game industry that games were never - and will never - be worth it.
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sh1-n0bu · 6 months ago
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✿ 𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙪𝙣 ✿
characters: boothill x gn!reader
warnings: fluff, angst/no comfort, spoilers to his character story, reader death, canon typical violence, blood, death, injury description, slavery mention, reader is a galaxy ranger, reader also has burn scars, some mechanical and medical things might be incorrect
notes: i have been spoiling yall too much with the constant fluff and smut. so here throws this fic into your face. divider from @/cafekitsune. a deep thanks to @theblades for helping me find a way to kill reader off😇
word count: 6.2k words
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bright sunlight, gentle breeze ruffling through his bi-colored hair and the soft laughter of children. he loved the days spent at the farm, playing hide and seek with his siblings in the corn field, looking after the animals at the farm and taking some out for a walk. if him and his siblings could be sneaky enough, they will be able to snatch a few of graey’s handmade cookies through the kitchen window before dinner time. if not, they’ll get caught red handed, yet be let off the hook with a few soft pinches to their cheeks and one cookie for each since graey was just that soft.
sometimes, him and nick would ride their horses, wilding through the forests and endless fields to lead their cattle to better water and brilliant clouds. nick would sing loudly and proudly — he always does — and soon, he would join in with his young, soft voice pitching out the same song. nick would laugh boisterously, ruffling his hair and knocking off of his hat in the process. he would whine about it, saying things such as his hat getting dirty and being scolded by graey. nick would just laugh and shrug it off with a “sorry kiddo”.
he loved this place. he loved the corn fields he runs through with his siblings, he loved the loud voice of graey yelling out, scolding the kids as they run off laughing like a bunch of menaces, the oldest holding the box of cookies graey keeps on the highest shelf away from them, he loved the guns that nick would pull out from his old box of tools, teaching him how to properly aim and how to shoot the empty cans placed in the distance. and the excited yell of the other kids when he finally manages to knock one down, making him feel giddy as nick congratulated him on his first shot. after he fully mastered the old handgun of nick and shot down all 5 cans in a row, he was rewarded with nick’s old cowboy sheriff medal. the golden, 5 pointed star was old and looked rusty but to little ol’ him, it was the biggest and most treasured gift he ever got.
little ‘loaded gun’ never separated from that medal. he wore it his jacket ever since nick pinned it there for him, proudly showing it off to his siblings and talking about how he will take after nick and graey’s profession in the future. how he promises to nick and graey that he will make them proud, how he will live up to their expectations and become an even better cowboy.
“you sure will, little partner” nick would always laugh and pat his head, re-adjusting the medal. graey would sigh and roll his eyes at nick’s actions before reminding him that he doesn’t have to choose that life if he doesn’t want to. young ‘loaded gun’ would pout, whining that he wants to.
“but i want to be a cowboy! i want to be like you and nick, taking down bad guys, bringing justice and firing big guns!” he would yell, shooting his arms up in the air and jumping around.
“uh-huh. talk about firing big guns after you lose that lisp of yours” graey would chime in, always quick to reprimand him for his missing tooth and lisp as his hands affectionately smoothen out his messy hair, groaning in defeat as the mess of black and white refuse to be tamed.
“but i already lost it! i’m a big boy now!”
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“hey graey! am i a big boy capable of firing big guns now?” were the first words he said as he brought back his first successful bounty. the smell of gunpowder and ash clung heavy to his jacket but he didn’t care. the smaller kids ran up to his sides, asking for upsies while his siblings who had already grown up and decided to stay at the farm pat his back and ruffle his hair with affectionate teasing quips.
he did it. he held his promise and followed in the footsteps of graey and nick, the old rusty gun and the sheriff medal being a motivational tool for him to reach his goal. now, all grown up and a master trickshot amongst the cowboys of aeragan-epharshel, ‘loaded gun’ was ready to aim and fire at anyone who dares to harm the innocents. although it had been years since the last time he saw his parents and siblings, everything about them and the old red barn stayed the same. though, the corn field looked a little bit bigger than he remembered.
‘loaded gun’ had done a lot in his life since becoming a cowboy. from fighting bandits in the dusty fields, chasing thieves at the dangerous cliffsides to having a gun fight against rival gangs. there were many times he had narrowly escaped death, breathed nothing but the metallic scent of blood, death and bullets and he still prevailed. although he had lost friends along this deadly road, he had also gained many.
that night, ‘loaded gun’ sat across his parents, seated amongst his siblings as he recalled tales of his adventures. the warmth of his younger siblings’ hugs, the teasing quips of the elders’ back pats and the proud looks nick and graey gave him — he was sure of it; this place was where he was the most happiest.
so when he found a little figure, wrapped in a measly ragtag of a fabric, crying out and lonely, he knew he had to step in and take in the little one. it’s what was right and what graey and nick would have done. a small bundle, not even a month old was left to fend for herself. ‘loaded gun’ carefully cradled the baby close to his chest, trying his best to soothe her cries as much as he could.
“graey! nick! i need some help here!” and ‘loaded gun’ had become a father.
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ever since becoming a father, ‘loaded gun’ has experienced everything that parenthood had to offer. sleepless nights of the baby wailing at an ungodly hour, searching for his comfort and warmth. having to change the baby’s diapers and bathe her. checking the temperature of the milk in the bottle before feeding time — everything parenthood brought him, he took it all in strides and jolly laughs.
sometimes, he would put the baby in a small bucket and take her out on the farm with himself. the little baby would laugh and clap her tiny hand together, big bright eyes unknowing of what was happening as ‘loaded gun’ fails to tame a wild stallion, proceeding to get his ass thrown off of the horse’s back. seeing his little girl so happy, how could he ever stop making a fool of himself? he even went far as to carve out a mini guitar for her after seeing her fascination with his old, weathered one.
“from now on, yer name will be clementine. can’t have my little girl going around without a name, right?” he asks, bringing up the white haired girl into his arms and raising her into the air. clementine only giggles, blabbering some stuff as she laughs at the feeling of being in the air. seeing the baby’s innocent wide eyes staring down at him, head haloed by the high sun, ‘loaded gun’s grey ones soften as a teary smile forms on his face. the scars on his hands remind him of his profession and dangers of being a cowboy, but in his heart, he swore that he will keep his little girl safe and to be the best father he can be.
“my little clementine…”
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gone... it was all gone.
the corn fields where he used to run through with his siblings when they were young, the old red farm that was in the middle of being repainted, the comfortable warm yet dingy house that him and his family used to live in — it was all gone. the scent of sulfur and burnt bodies hung in the air, ash raining from high above like it was some sort of a rain, turning his already dirtied and burnt clothes into black. there was no sign of nick, graey, his siblings nor the panicked farm animals.
little clementine... where was she? aeons, you can do anything you want to him but please spare his little girl, please by some blind miracle, let little clem be alive. he won't care what he has to do or which burning log he has to push away with his bare hands, just let him hear the sound of his little girl's cries to let him know that she's still alive and he'll do it. he'll do anything to save his little girl.
running through the scorched earth, 'loaded gun' calls out for his family. nick, graey, his siblings and even by their childhood nicknames. clementine, where was clementine, where was his baby girl? his little girl, where—
small red scarf and a burnt mini guitar. that was all he had managed to dig out from the burning farm house of his home. that was all he had left of his little girl, the red scarf that was the same copy of his own and the hand carved guitar with its strings plucked due to the heat of the bomb. those two things were the only things he brought with himself as he travels through the vast galaxies, searching a certain doctor who had made themselves into a cyborg successfully.
on the kingdom of bandits, talia, did he found the doctor. heart heavy, eyes full of vengeance and burnt hands holding onto the strap of his bag that had his little girl's memoirs. the doctor tried to persuade him into thinking over his decisions again, to woo him into staying as a human and not to lose said humanity. but 'loaded gun' was steadfast in his decision. if he wanted to stay as a human, he would have already thrown his body into the fires that engulfed his home.
with a deep sigh and slight reluctance, the doctor fulfilled his wishes. blue colored blood being pumped into his new metal body, no longer warm, scarred flesh but rather a clean plated metal being wired into place. at least his head was kept intact. after everything was over and he regained consciousness, he simply thanks the doctor and leaves his payment on the operation table full of his former human blood mixed with his new cyborg blue ones. he didn't wanted to look at the walls or the floor — it was covered in filthy purple liquids.
"before you leave, will you at least tell me your name?"
"... it's boothill now"
"well, good luck with your hunt mr.boothill"
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it has been... how long now? boothill doesn't know. since his 'rebirth' as boothill, he has spent so much time traveling from one world to the other, destroying one ipc ship to the next. it has been a bit too long in his opinion, as the destruction of his home planet has stopped being brought up as the latest hot topic at every bar or saloon he visits. or maybe they never talked about it to begin with. the ipc had friends and slaves everywhere, at every branch or organization or world, boothill wouldn't be surprised if they had ended up covering their filthy work by masking it as an another 'horrific accident that befell a poor world before we could save them' type of thing. the ipc were amazing at their manipulation after all.
"those ipc folk sure have been having some hard time since your sudden emergence huh, cowboy?" a voice rings out to his left, a body covered in a bright red coat sitting down beside him at the bar. gesturing to the bartender, he watches from the corner of his eyes as you order a glass of earl grey and marmalade cooler with extra ice. boothill doesn't know this stranger draped in red was nor did he care. but judging by the way you easily knew of him as the latest troublemaker against the ipc, you have probably heard of the bounty on his head or you just travel the galaxies a lot. or it could be both at the same time.
turning his head just a little bit more towards the side, he looks you up and down, trying to see if there are anything that makes you stand out in any form of way. anything to hint at what or who you were.
old, faded, long, red coat left open at the front, smart by the way you have easily deduced he was a cowboy by just his accessories and clothing alone and ordering anon-alcoholic drink despite having set foot inside a bar and took a seat beside him. he can't see any weapons on your body at the moment and your red coat was covering most of your body too. he'll just have to go in blindly then.
"done checking me out, cowboy?"
by the time he had finished assessing you and had looked up to see your face, you were already staring at him with a nonchalant smirk on your face. for some odd reason, boothill could feel his cheeks heat up and wires zap inside his metal body. there was just something about the way that you easily teased him and wasn't ashamed to hold an eye contact with his target shaped pupils that got him feeling weirdly self conscious. had he forgotten to shine the metal plates of his body today? was his revolver still in place, shiny and strong? what about his bullets? his hat? his hair? oh what if he smelled? can cyborg bodies have any odor to begin with—?
"come on now, don't look away from me. i was talking to you" he could hear you coo out, your hand coming up to turn his chin so you could look at his face. the warmth of your hand touching the only leftover human part of his, the laidback confidence you had in your own self, it all got boothill letting out a steam from his ears like a cartoon character as he quickly turns away from you, his hand pulling down his hat to save whatever tiny drops of image he had.
what a shame, turning into a flustered mess like a high school girl talking to her crush by just the smallest amount of flirting he received. where was his class? his sarcastic remarks? the sassy quips and bites he gives to those who touched him? his tongue felt heavy, cheeks felt like they were on fire and he could just hear the gears inside his body shifting and turning at an uncomfortably fast pace that made him feel like he was overheating. or maybe he truly was overheating. darn, he should visit the doctor again to get some certain things removed.
"a-ahem, didn't yer' parents teach you it's not okay to flirt with strangers at a bar?" curse him for stuttering over his words, he was supposed to appear cool not like a teenager boy dammit! and the way your lips curled upwards even more at the tripping of his words wasn't helping. well he'll be damned, you have a smile that cowboys would kill each other for.
"i'm [name], a galaxy ranger. and you are, dear cowboy?"
idiot cowboys like him would kill each other for.
"name's boothill, sugar"
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it has been exactly 2 years and 4 months since boothill first met you and was introduced to a faction called the galaxy rangers. apparently, galaxy rangers are a voluntarily formed group that follows the teachings of lan, the hunt and carries out acts of service, upholding peace and justice. some galaxy rangers are a bit ruthless in the ways they deal with the injustice that happens at some worlds or galaxies, some are a bit more diplomatic, some travel in groups of friends and colleagues while some travel alone.
you were once the latter one; a galaxy ranger that travelled the cosmos alone, a bright red shooting star that shine and never fade till the break of day, bringing hope and destruction at once. were; because it has been precisely 2 years and 4 months since boothill has started to travel alongside you. he had decided to become a galaxy ranger, the voluntary group's ideals appealing to his own sense of vengeance and justice that he wishes to bring to a certain group.
"boothill, it's time to wake up" you call out, having always been the early morning bird out of the two of you. walking towards the bedside of the asleep cowboy, you poke at his eyebrows and nose, pushing his lips into random emotes, snorting at the slight hint of drool on his lips. despite having an all metal body, the cyborg was still very human at heart. you've seen the way he helps the elderly cross the roads, entertaining the kids of your stop of the day by teaching them how to properly hold a gun or to shoot one, how he pets a stray dog or a cat, how he sits down at the bar with you after a successful mission, a guitar in hand as he starts to sing in an unfamiliar language. how he looked sad as he regularly cleans the sheriff medal on his jacket, how he stares at a certain picture that he keeps in his jacket pocket.
or even the ways he calls out to a little girl with white hair, addressing her as "clementine", before apologizing and patting the girl on the head to say "be careful, kid". you've seen it all, or what you like to think of as all of boothill.
"fuck meeee, it's still early dawn sugar" the cowboy groans out, voice groggy due to his voice bank having been on resting mode and just restarted. reaching an arm out, he manages to grab a hold of the back of your shirt before you could escape, pulling you down onto his bed as you let out a shriek. grunting at your flailing limbs and attempts to escape his clutch, he only tightens them, climbing on top of you with a cheshire grin on his face.
"that's what ya' get for trynna wake up a cowboy, sugar. ya' get put in time-out" boothill grins at the red of your cheeks from laughing too much, a surprising flare of cuteness aggression coming over him as he leans over your face to gnaw at your cheeks with his shark-like teeth.
"on-nom nom nom nom nom, i'm gonna eat up yer' mochi cheeks, sugar!" the cyborg says, making an overdramatic munching noises as he gnaws the sharp edges of his teeth over the soft fat of your cheek. you could only laugh, throwing your legs back and forth as you try to escape his hold.
"boothill! you're a whole damn 700 kilogram of pure metal alone, get off of me!" you shriek out when the mischievous cowboy starts to gnaw on the skin of your neck and chin, akin to a baby kitten throwing a temper tantrum. as if to spite you, he only rolls his body over yours more, squishing you flat down onto the bed with a menacing laugh.
it was usual to start the day like this between you and boothill. he was not a morning person, you were and usually you would have to end up paying for being the early bird as he squishes your body flush against his own metal one. sometimes you two would end up just falling back asleep, with you being held hostage in boothill's grasp and boothill comfortably squeezing his face into your body. sometimes, you two would end up like this, just laughing and having a harmless prank time together. other times, you two end up with a bunch of ruined pillows, the feathers dancing in the air as you try to get at least a hit on him. but somehow, boothill was always better than you when it came to pillow fights.
"now what happened 'ere, sugar?" you could hear boothill ask, finally managing to get a deep breath in as he finally lifts away some of the weight he had on you. a cold, hard metal tenderly ghosts over where your neck and shoulder met, over the old burn scar you had. oh right, you forgot of that little fella there.
"ah, that. it's just some old burn wound from one of my earlier days as a galaxy ranger. there's nothing to worry about, don't worry" you hum, bringing a hand up to run through his mess of a bi-colored hair. his hair was always a mess no matter the circumstances, it was honestly a wonder how he doesn't have urges to cut his hair short. not like you were complaining, the long hair suited him perfectly and you wouldn't want him to change his looks.
as you lay there on the hotel bed, looking up at the ceiling, thinking over where to go next or what route you two should take during this next new mission of yours, boothill was busy remembering an old memory. an old memory that he wished to forget so vehemently.
red and orange — that was all he could smell all around him. the burnt down farm that was in the middle process of being renovated, the burnt carcasses — it wouldn't be right to call them carcasses, there was nothing much left remaining to even properly call them as that — the corn fields burning down. sulfur and death — that was all 'loaded gun' could smell as he dug into his burning home. the heat that scorched his face or licked away at the skin of his hand didn't bother him. all he wanted to do was to find his daughter, his little girl, his little clementine. please, let her be alive by some miracl—
"boothill?" your voice echoed in his head, snapping him back from the dreaded memory lane he accidentally made a trip down towards. looking up at your face, he could see the furrowing of [c] brows over your [c] eyes as they stared at him with so much concern, affection, wonder and care. he takes in the details of your face as his breath gets stolen, seeing the way the [c] locks circled around your head as you reflected the perfect image of what he thinks aeons looks like. by the mighty aeons, you were gorgeous. and how his breath is found once again as you run a hand through his hair, blunt nails lightly scratching at his scalp. you stole his breath away as easily as breathing it back into him.
leaning close into you, he felt the way your breaths mingled with his own, how if he were to try and reach out, he could feel your body heat against his only remaining body like an anchor, like a long awaited lover returning home. there was warmth in your eyes that was missing in his cold, metal body. humane marks that was reflected onto his own vibranium plates that tried to imitate human flesh. there was humanity in you that boothill feared he lacked in himself.
"[name]... i want to taste your lips" boothill breathed out before he could even catch whether he was imagining his words or was outright saying it. and he did get what he politely asked for, your split lips connecting with his own intact ones. he tasted life that he was sure that he had lost on your lips, a memory of something old and tender that had been burned away in the fires that scorched his home and your body. he felt something move and beat rhythmically within the confines of his gears and wires, convinced that he had somehow, by some way regained his heart. regained his human body. regained his humanity.
you breathed life into him and he found himself asking for one more when your lips left his own, and one more, and one more. and one more.
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"boothill, when was the last time that you went to the doctor to have your body checked over?" you say, turning your attention away from sharpening your sword to his body. even from such distance, you could see some screws getting a bit looser, some little wires or the ends of wires peeking out from behind the plates of his body. from what you could remember, the last time your partner had told you of going to the doctor to have himself checked over was... perhaps a year ago.
as galaxy rangers, you two now constantly get into fights and battles. especially with the ipc as the corporation has added you to their list of wanted figures besides boothill's growing dead or alive bounty. in an order to be ready for any ambush or unplanned fights that may take place, you and your partner must be ready for any sort of fight that may come your way. which also means making a trip to the kingdom of bandits and thieves, talia, a bit often to see the doctor.
something that boothill insists doesn't have to be done after every fight or to have you follow him. the cyborg insists that it's for your own safety but you know that he just doesn't want you to see him being taken apart and put back together again like... like he has lost his own sense of self. despite his flair and bright smiles, you always knew that boothill had a deep sense of problem with his body. you know, since you were always the one to collect his breaking consciousness into your awaiting warm arms to place him back together again. peace by loving peace, you were akin to a warm candlelight that soothed his worries and shooed away any fears that might dig its claws into his wires.
"uhhh... dunno sugar. maybe a year? or even over a year ago..." the cowboy replies, looking up from his own weapon that he was cleaning. seeing your eyes narrow at him and shoulders become stiff, boothill quickly places down his revolver, waving his hands as a form of self defense from your already approaching lecture.
"h-hey hey hey! but don't worry, i'm genuinely doing fine, sugar! if anything, it should be nagging you for not resting and properly taking care of that shoulder wound!" the cyborg was quick to defend himself, instead pointing a finger towards your direction. more specifically, your shoulder.
"it's just a small cut, boothill! i've already gotten it cleaned and wrapped in bandages" you raised your arms in a surrendering motion, now taking on the side to defend yourself from his words.
just as boothill was about to retort back with something smart-mouthed, you two suddenly fall silent as the familiar sound of the heels of an eerily familiar corporation uniform resounds in the hallway boards of the inn. those footsteps and the light click! clack! of their weapons told you two everything you needed to know. silently, boothill puts on his hat, reloading his revolver at a terrifyingly fast pace. meanwhile, you shrug on your signature red coat, newly sharpened and cleaned blade ready to slice through the ipc's weapons.
waiting patiently behind the doors of your inn room, you two wait with bated breaths until a very quick clicking of the door opening is heard. before the door could even creak open on its old hinges, boothill has already taken the first shot. without needing for words to talk about tactics or which side to take, you rush out, the sharp edge of your blade cutting through the ipc's every weapons. behind you the sound of gunshots and bodies hitting the floor follows.
it was simple, really. you disarm the ipc and boothill takes care of the rest. surrounded at all sides? you will always take the east side while boothill takes care of the ones on the west. and if there's a ew weapon or a surprise in your way, boothill will just blast it high into the sky with his arm canon and you can make the rest of them into thin noodles at record time. a deadly duo you two were, gutsy as you stood against the ipc in its whole with no fear, only excitement at what new weapon you'll come across or who could get more hits in. perhaps that's precisely why the ipc decided to send battalion after battalion after you two this time. perhaps it was the bounties on your head that caused the inn owner to betray your trust and rat you two out.
either way, nothing could exactly stop in your way. weapons cut, guns exploded due to bullets meeting inside the hole, armories torn apart and ipc managers blasted. there was nothing that could stand against a hurricane of two galaxy rangers. a red coat flashing past the ipc, a grey shine that took down a panicking soldier standing kilometers away. but there was a little problem. boothill's loose wires had connected with the wrong ones, causing him to stay in his lock 'n loaded state. target shaped pupils now bright red with the grey of his irises now bright red that perceived all those with a weapon as an enemy.
after the final ipc manager fell apart in a heap of metal and wires, you heard the sound of a gunshot still being fired towards the west. was boothill ambushed? was he okay? rushing over to where the sound is the loudest at, you couldn't help but gawk at the state of the corpses and remains of some of the robots. the large gaping holes were not normal, if anything it looked more like a canon bullet with how the entry holes were bigger and the exit holes were smaller. why was boothill using his arm canon at every chance he got? what was happening?
"boothi-!" a bang rings out just as you make it to where the gunshot was the loudest, bullet wizzing past your ear, nipping at the shell of it. the wound left ringing in your ear as you hold up a hand to cover the injured ear, looking on in fear as the red iris and white pupils of your partner looks straight back at you. you could see your own reflection in his eyes and boothill didn't look happy to see you.
eyes that used to stare at you with fondness and sea of affection now stared dead into your own pupils as if you were an enemy. a threat.
"whatcha' lookin' at, scum? come on, let's see ya' dance" this was not your boothill, this wasn't your beloved, this wasn't the same sweetheart whose eyes turn into heart shapes every time your own gaze meets his. this was not boothill.
dodging a bullet by a mere graze, you duck behind an overturned table. shit, think [name], how do you get him out of that state? you briefly remember him telling you that he briefly goes into lock 'n loaded state when he has a stand-off duel. but what more? he was locked in that state of his, ready to kill anyone that comes close. do you have to duel with him to make him snap out of it? but you don't know how to shoot a gun.
but... what if it doesn't have to be a gun duel?
"hey!" you call out, sliding on the floor to hide behind another chair that was flipped over when the canon bullet of boothill shoots through your old coverage with no mercy. "how about a duel, cowboy? you think you can be a faster draw than me?" you can hear his gun click, knowing that now he needs at least a few seconds to reload. maybe 5 seconds at best, boothill was fast in his reloading. you hear a soft scoff as you hear his gun open, the soft clanks of his bullet entering the cylinder resounding in the empty room. one, two, three -- all six bullets in and the soft clink of the hammer of his revolver releasing indicated that boothill was ready for a draw.
"hah, what do you think, sweet cheeks? think you can keep up with me?" you can just hear the taunting in his voice, goading you to make the first move. deep breath in and out, your hand holding the sheath of your sword, ready to draw. silence takes over the room as you speedrun any plans or ideas to catch him off guard. any idea to make him snap out of it. you can be the faster draw but that won't promise you a win if your life is going to be lost.
a steady hand is what you need. just a steady hand to knock some sense back into boohtill... a steady hand to knock some sense.
"come on, fucker. what's taking ya'—" the table he thought you were hiding behind is abruptly flipped over towards boothill, taking him by a sliver of surprise before he aims and pulls the trigger. once, twice and the table was split into half. a chair was next, a single explosive bullet causing the woods to splinter and cover your form as you dash through the room, straight at him.
"'atta you fuckhead! packing some guts, i see!" boothill laughs, aiming straight at your head and pulling the trigger. the bullet doesn't hit, you managed to draw your sword in time to cut it in half. a grin matching the sense of a maniac high spread across boothill's face at the clinking of the two bullet pieces hitting the floor. all you had on mind was to get near him at this moment, nothing else. another bullet is fired, getting cut apart in the middle before his revolver joins, being split apart by your expert swordsmanship.
close enough, you can do it, you can snap him back into his senses.
the sound of broken revolver and dulled blade hitting the floor is disregarded the moment you lean in close to him, hand raised, fist reared back, ready to knock some sense into him. at the same time, boothill's left arm raises towards your abdomen. time seemed to slow and all you had in mind was to deliver a sharp knuckle sandwich.
BANG! CRACK!
your sharp punch landed straight across his face, making his hat drop to the ground. if this was any other bar fight, you would have laughed in his face as you witness his red iris turn grey again, paired with the signature marksman symbol pupils. you did it, your plan worked and boothill was back. when you wanted to point at his face and scold his ears off, all you managed was a weak wheeze. strange...
the world spun around you, the horrified face of boothill catching your attention alongside the sharp pain at your side. you didn't even knew that you fell to the ground as boothill cradles you up into his arms, holding you like how he always does as his metallic fingers gently hold your cheek. his mouth was moving, bi-colored hair falling like a curtain over you two as if to keep this moment hidden from the prying eyes of the corpses in the room.
what was he saying? there was a permanent ringing in your ears and you couldn't be more annoyed about the timing of something more than now. you wanted to listen to his voice, the gentle rasp as he apologized for now listening to you, the hidden tenderness as he calls you an idiot for getting too close to him. breathing became harder for you, black dots appearing in your vision, hindering you from seeing the way boothill was desperately holding you tight against his body. you must have hit your head pretty heard when you fell.
"... i told you... to have yourself checked o.. ver..." you barely manage to say, your voice dying in your throat as you try to talk to him. shaking hand comes up to cradle his cheek, trying to wipe away the tears that streaming from his grey eyes. why was your hand bloodied? it left stains on your dear boothill's cheeks and he will surely complain about it as he tries to wipe it away with his own metallic ones like a cat. you felt cold from the inside, you couldn't move your legs and even holding up your hand felt like a chore.
perhaps a nice rest will help you relax and gain your strength back. and when you wake up again, you will be back in the inn's room, your favorite cowboy by your side, clinging to you like a lifeline as he snores open-mouthed, wiping his drool all over your shirt. when you wake up again, your favorite cowboy won't be covered in blood. when you wake up again, there won't be this annoying sharp sting at your side that felt like your whole intestines were spilling out.
"sugar...? sugar, no, don't close your eyes! [name] wake up!" boothill yells, shaking your bloodied body as he tries to make you regain consciousness. you can hit him all you like, put pink ribbons in his hair, steal his hat, scold him for all you want, just please don't close your eyes. please don't fall asleep. please, don't leave him alone.
"... i'll get lost again if you leave me..." there was no pulse. your body was cold already. and the cyborg wished he could cry again. at least one last time.
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still-a-morosexual-help · 2 years ago
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Obey me is so funny because it's about found family and it's about different found families and it's like
Here's Simeon and his beautiful, caring son who bakes with him and patiently teaches him how to use a mobile phone and comes up with fun, innocent activities they can do together
Here's Barbatos and his beautiful, caring son who wants to play a prank on him so they can bond but doesn't want to distress Barbatos so instead he gives him tea in the morning and asks interesting questions from him
And then pan over to Lucifer whose clothes are crumpled and also a little on fire, whose hair is greying and sticking up, whose hunched over, barely standing up straight, and who hasn't had a moment's rest in years, who is desperately clutching on to a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a smoking cigarette in the other, who has the overall demeanor and appearance of someone who has been consecutively run over by several trucks - not really upset but more resigned to his (eternal) fate, while his horrible, terrible gaggle of gremlin children run rampant in the background
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mrsrookhunt · 1 year ago
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What To Expect When Your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula| PT. 3
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Rook Hunt (Part 1)
Part three by popular demand! Malleus, Rook, Floyd, Sebek, Lilia, and Azul with feisty toddlers.
Warnings: angry toddlers, exhausted parents
Note: Every character has more than one child now with the exception of Azul.
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Malleus Draconia
The new princes and princesses of Briar Valley are Tiny Little MenacesTM.
You are Malleus are dealing with two wild toddlers, and one extremely fire-loving baby. Fire-loving, as in, the entire room has had to be fully fire proofed, from the walls to the ceiling.
The other children love being outside and playing, which gets them out of your hair while you attempt to feed and care for baby #3, oven mitts and fire-proof gear on.
The only one that your baby won't lease a barrage of firey giggles onto is Great-Grandma Maleficia, who can pick up the child without worry, a blessing in disguise to poor you and Malleus.
Whenever you aren't trying to wrangle the littlest Draconia heir, you and Malleus' time is filled by playing with rambunctious dragon toddlers. Your oldest is still as mischievous as ever, now taking off in full distance flights with your lunch everytime you turn around, and your younger toddler requiring immense amounts of attention.
All three have been deemed the 'wildest children the Draconia bloodline has ever seen', which says a lot. You hope they grow out of it, but the little ones seem stubbornly wild, with no chance of changing anytime soon.
Long training flights with Malleus often leave you watching the skies for their return at dinner time. It's not the life you imagined. But it's the life you never expect that's the one that satisfies you.
Rook Hunt
"HEYYYYYY!!!! PAPAAAA! LOOK WHAT I CAUGHT!" It's always a peaceful evening when the children are outside, until it's not.
Your 3 year old has been regularly running in with things you don't even know how they've caught as a toddler with no weapons.
Today, it's a bird bigger than your toddler's tiny body.
Rook has been diligently teaching your children how to hunt since they could walk, taking them for small hunting trips and shooting targets with children's play-bows.
Only two of your five children are too young to hunt, in his eyes, and even then you have not escaped their sharp, predatory gaze, which has been present since birth. You have no doubts that all of your children will be hunters. It's definitely a given, and as you've seen from Rook's family, seems to run in their blood.
The toddlers go outside and play on your patio every evening when the heat cools down, allowing you and Rook to have some peace and quiet. Rook is very enamored with the family you've created together. He always dreamed of finding beauty in his future, but never knew it would be so soon, and in the form of a domestic life with a spouse and children.
You and Rook are happy with this life you've created, enjoying the ups and downs of parenthood, the thrills of hunting with your whole family, the cuddly movie nights and soft words exchanged between you and your kids every night before bed.
It's a perfect life, one you never expected get, and never to love as much as you do.
Floyd Leech
It's been challenging for Floyd to be away from the sea for so long. You both agreed that it would be easier and more comfortable to live on land for the sake of your family, but it's definitely been a source of tension. Floyd and the children both go out to sea often as a compromise, leaving you all alone with the family pets and the occasional guest.
When they're home, you all spend hours together playing and loving on each other. All seven of your little ones have grown accustomed to Floyd, and have shifted their little spats of dominance to between each other.
It's true, it's practically a full-time job to keep them all from fighting. The youngest ones are the most ruthless, attacking their siblings and destroying their surroundings entirely as they cry and whine, throwing little catty hands at each other as 'fights'. It seems to do more emotional damage than physical.
Then again, are your surroundings ever not destroyed by the 7 restless children? They're so obscenely playful that they make sure that your life is challenging to say the least. Sometimes you're glad for the break you get when they go for day-long dives under the sea. They're probably making some tornadic-like mess of Jade's home, but that's not the end of the world for you.
Your relationship with Floyd is nothing short of magical. There's still as much love there as there was when you started dating, if not more. Your family has its odd little quirks, but what matters is that you're all together, happy and proud of the life you've created. You are especially thrilled that you made your own life work in a world that wasn't even yours. You've made it your home now, and you could never feel more content than you do now.
Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek has grown to love his children very much. After your first began to love on him as often as you, he fell completely into the role of a family man. All three of your children love Sebek immensely, having grown fond of him after he let down his guard around them.
Your littlest one is the perfect carbon copy of Sebek, even at 15 months old. Not only does this child seem to possess no personality traits or features of yours, this little one's very first word was 'Mallie'. Sebek could not be prouder, and more eager to train his children in the path of a royal retainer afterwards.
Your oldest is still the wildest little mini croc you've ever seen. Nothing in the parenting books could have prepared you for your child's defiance and strong will. The other two, though relatively calmer children, seem to eagerly egg on your oldest with nonsense excited baby babble.
Now that your oldest's teeth have grown in fully, Sebek has to watch his limbs carefully. His family is known for their bite power, and this child is no exception by a long shot, seeming to have a stronger bite than even Sebek himself. Though your toddler does love Sebek dearly, they haven't learned that biting isn't a game. And after biting clean through a leg of furniture last month, Sebek has been terrified ever since.
The younger two don't use their teeth to bite people, but toys and furniture are a free-for-all.
Your children are very adept and skilled at squirming out of any situation, physically and verbally. You think to yourself that they will in fact make wonderful guards some day, but you don't ever tell Sebek that for fear that he'll make the poor things train even harder to please both of their parents.
You and Sebek end up on the floor, playing games with your very imaginative children quite often, cuddling and laughing with each other while they all pretend to be royal knights and sometimes, doctors. Sebek won't say it but he thinks his oldest would make a very good doctor and he approves.
You've never been happier, and never more in love with Sebek, as is he, you. It's a perfect fairytale world for the two of you. Who knew that Twisted Wonderland would end up becoming where you were always meant to be?
Lilia Vanrouge
C H A O S.
There's twelve little Vanrouges running around, acting absolutely chaotic and mischievous at all times. Poor you and Lilia. Twelve children under four sounds cute but it's an absolute nightmare, especially when they have the lineage of a certain silly fae.
It's manageable, but only because Silver is there suffering with y'all. And barely. Sometimes you think he's about to run out of the house and cry after some unwitting action that led to a vicious prank from one or more children.
Last week, they cornered him from all sides with sticks while you and Lilia were out, and the oldest threatened to poke him in the eyes.
Some mischief, lots pure evil.
It's only you that can scoop them up and tell them to behave, because they are absolutely remorseless in their merciless bullying of their father. Most of them don't even call him dad. They call him 'oldie'. The ones that are too young to talk still laugh at him.
Lilia doesn't mind too much, scolding them for their rudeness, but rarely punishing them. He claims he's too old to be properly disciplining them, but it's quite obvious that he's reminiscent of himself in these children.
During the good moments, you might be able to convince the children to at least make a father's day card, or get them to agree not to prank Silver on his birthday. Usually this is still done with bribery. But sometimes, the sweetest moments are unprompted. Like the time your daughter sat on Lilia's lap and gave him a hug after he watched a scary movie, because 'Daddy might have nightmares.'
Your family is wholly complete Silver hopes and prays. You and Lilia are happy, and content. Lilia is still overjoyed that he got the chance to have biological children, and you're just happy that you've found a place to settle down in Twisted Wonderland, and be happy.
Azul Ashengrotto
You only have one child still? Yeah. He loves your child dearly, but after much consideration and a lot of diapers changed, you decided one was for the best.
Your baby is three now 'Three n' a HALF', your child insists.
Your little one is pretty well-behaved. Despite being a spoiled only child, little Ashengrotto is very humble, kind, and sweet.
Definitely not like their money hungry father. This child just wants animal crackers and time at the swimming pool.
But your child is sharp-witted, just like Azul. There have been many times when you've said something to your toddler and had it immediately debunked with a smug look on their face.
It makes you laugh. And cry, a little bit. Time flies, and your child seems to mentally age two years for the physical price of one.
Your little one reminds you with a smile and crumb-littered cheeks and askew purple octopus glasses that they're still young, and always here for you. You are enthralled with your life with Azul and your baby, a real true blessing. This was how it was always meant to be, even if it wasn't how you ever thought your life would go.
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Unless I write a part 4 by request this is probably the end of the series, but I really loved it! Thank you for coming along!! As always, feel free to request for more.
-Kaori
-July 13th, 2023
@growingupnrealizing , here it is!
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absolutebl · 5 months ago
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This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
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Aug 2024 Week 3
Ongoing Series - Thai
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Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)
Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him. 
Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face.  God: So how many children do you want? 
The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.
I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.
Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!
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My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.
NO SINGING.
Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning. 
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This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.
I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.
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Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.
At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.
Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.
That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money? 
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Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go. 
I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it). 
Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.
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Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.
Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?
I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.
I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.
The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.
Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.
Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.
I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.
Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.
Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.
I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.
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Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.
Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.
First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...
fine.
This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.
Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...
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It's airing but...
4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.
8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.
In case you missed it
The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
Still Coming This Month!
8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.
8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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WHY IS HE SO FINE?
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I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)
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Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)
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The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.
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azrielbrainrot · 4 months ago
Text
With Your Hand In Mine
Pairing: Eris x F!Reader
Description: Both you and Eris can agree that it would be good for you to know how to defend yourself. It's just a shame that he's the only one who can teach you.
Warnings: A bit suggestive
Word Count: 3700
Notes: I haven't written for these two in a while, I'm sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy!
Fire on Fire Masterlist
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“Is this truly necessary?”
“I wouldn't have agreed to train you if I knew you were going to complain the whole time.”
A sigh escapes your dry lips, rolling up your sleeves once more even though they'd hardly moved from the last time you had, trying to buy time while you catch your breath before he's forcing you to start back up. The fact that this had been your idea gave you little comfort when you've barely started and it already felt like you'd run a marathon, your body beyond confused at what you're putting it through.
“We don't have much time. It's best we don't unnecessarily waste it,” Eris says, arms crossed over his chest and the usual irritating smirk perched on his lips, not a hair out of place or any escalation in his breath - he was the picture of relaxation.
“I'm not wasting time, Eris. I told you I can't do it.”
The gold bracelet still sat on his wrist, a complete contrast to the simple nature of the rest of the clothes he wore today, fit for the intense training session he's putting you through. The bracelet was also yours, one of your favorites in fact, and had been sitting in its usual place in one of your jewelry boxes just this morning.
You still didn't know how he had stolen the bracelet so easily, avoiding both you and all your maids without getting noticed or leaving any trace behind. Well aside from the letter inviting - read ordering - you to meet him in this exact place before sundown, and a new box of cookies that sat waiting for you on your desk. He truly had gotten lucky no one else had come into your room in the meantime.
Knowing how to protect yourself and yield your powers properly was something you always wanted to do, which is why you had reluctantly asked Eris for help, seeing as he was the only one you could trust, a fact that brought you the opposite of comfort. What you couldn't have predicted is that this would mean spending hours playing one of his stupid games.
“You only need to get this off my wrist. I'm not using my powers or even half of my strength. The bracelet doesn't even have a clasp, you simply need to pull it off. I'm making this extremely easy for you,” his smirk widens as he adds, “even children can do this much.”
You can't help the frown that takes over your features at his little comment. No matter how much time you spend with Eris you can't get used to his sharp tongue, and unfortunately it strikes true more often than not. Your gaze lowers to his wrist and that offending bracelet once more, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore his stupid comment, trying to hide the feelings of insecurity that rose to the surface.
“I wouldn't be here wasting my time if I thought you couldn't do it,” he adds, his tone significantly softer than before.
The fact that he noticed made you angrier somehow. Hiding your emotions was never a problem for you, it was something you had to learn very quickly when you were just a child. You do it in front of your parents and maids every day, in front of any relative or noble, even the High Lord and Lady of Autumn, but, for some inexplicable reason, Eris can always read you like an open book.
It seemed like he was trying to make you feel better in his own way. Even that gave you little comfort though, it didn't suit him and it definitely didn't suit your relationship.
You had tried to practice by yourself when you were younger and first noticed your powers developing. Hiding them had been the obvious choice for you, but you had also decided to use them as much as possible. Winnowing had been easy enough for you to understand and control on your own, and your fire had simply needed some more concentration and a few stolen books to fully understand.
After so easily taking control of your powers, you thought any physical training would be simple enough for you to understand. It resulted in countless hours of brandishing an old sword around, trying to mimic the way your books described the correct movements. Soon, you realized that without watching the proper techniques and having a sparring partner you would never be able to learn anything.
The necessity to at least know how to tame your fire powers had been important for your own survival, seeing as they manifested each time your emotions escalated, so it makes sense that you had been a lot more successful at it then with any other physical training.
You don't give him a response, focusing all your energy into calming down and trying to think of a way to get to the bracelet. He's a lot faster and stronger than you, even when he's holding back as he said. More importantly, he has been trained ever since he was a child, from a cruelly young age knowing Beron. He's even taller than you, only having to put his arm up for you not to be able to reach the bracelet. All the odds are in his favor, and the fact only adds to your annoyance.
A couple minutes go by like this, with you studying your target instead of reaching for the bracelet mindlessly as Eris watches on, unnervingly quiet. It never bode well when he actually kept his mouth shut, it meant he was thinking.
“You never told me why you wanted me to teach you,” your fiancé speaks up at last, his voice now closer. You had been so focused that you didn't even hear him approaching, something you should have definitely been focusing on. You wonder for a second if you would have been able to even if you weren't distracted.
Your gaze meets his, thinking through his words and attempting to understand the look in his eyes, when you can't you childishly ponder ignoring him and using this moment to steal the bracelet. Ultimately you decide against it, answering his question at last.
“If your enemies are to become my own, I'll need all the training I can get.”
That was an understatement considering his enemies were the High Lord of Autumn, his army and the nobles who supported him, maybe even his brothers. You're sure he even managed to find new ones after his allegiance to the Night Court, if his allies themselves aren't still considered enemies at the same time.
“It offends me that you think I can't tell when you're lying,” he muses.
You bite your lip in annoyance just as he comes to stand a mere step away from you, tilting your head so you can glare at him properly. His expression falls into a maddeningly alluring one, a smirk twitching along his inviting lips.
“I'm not lying.”
“No, but you're not telling me the whole truth either,” he says, fingers reaching out to pick a dried bit of flower or leaf out of your hair, mother knows how long it's been there, “I thought we were past the need for beating around our intentions.”
You look at him wearily, studying his nonchalant expression while he discards whatever was in your hair, watching it fall onto the soft grass as if he wouldn't much rather study your face back and try to find the answer on his own. You suppose you could appreciate that he would ask you instead of trying to pry it out of you, he can get any answer he wants out of anyone after all.
“I don't like being weak,” you confess, almost regretting it when his amber eyes meet yours. “If my father wasn't…” You trail off, not even knowing what to say. Someone who didn't think of his own daughter as a business opportunity? A coward, too afraid of letting anyone have the upper hand? A monster? Doesn't matter what words you choose, the truth of the matter is you were tired of playing by his rules. Eris watches you, never rushing you while you gather your thoughts. “I wish I had been trained since I was young. The world is cruel, and I want to have a fighting chance. I don't want to hide behind anyone's shadow.”
“Alright,” Eris says after a while, looking almost proudly down at you. His hands find his pockets and he nods at your training prop before changing the subject.
“You're going about it the wrong way.”
“I've noticed that, genius.”
“Such kind words,” he trails off after a chuckle, “I told you I wouldn't use my powers, but I never said anything about yours.”
You blink at his words, murmuring after a while, “Would that be fair? What if I hurt you?”
“Do you think you can hurt me, doll?”
The teasing, downright condescending tone is a means to get you motivated once more, and even knowing this, you can't help but feel a familiar heat bubbling under your skin, one he can so easily pull out of you. Perhaps Eris really was the perfect person to help you with this.
“Show me,” he says, a proud and excited glint in his eyes.
Your body answers his command, moving before you even think it through. Winnowing behind him, you reach out to grab his wrist, kicking the back of his knee as hard as you can when he unsurprisingly hides his wrist away from you to keep the bracelet safe. It makes him falter but he doesn't fall like you'd hoped.
Clenching your jaw at the breath of amusement he lets out, you summon your flames, burning a patch of grass under his feet, he sidesteps trying to salvage his shoes, and you attempt tripping him again, only to fail once more as he turns to face you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer with a look of annoyance on his face. This makes you feel a bit better, at least you ruined his shoes.
Reaching out for his wrist now would be in vain, he's much stronger than you so aimlessly trying to grab the bracelet is no use, you've been trying to do just that for hours. Winnowing back to your initial spot and out of his arms, you watch him again, thinking.
“Giving up already?”
You scoff, a smirk of your own finding its way to your lips. “When have I ever given up?”
Fire rushes from your hands once more, a lot more than before, burning the grass and dried leaves all around you, the smoke they create is enough to not only hide you but also distract him as it grows taller than the trees. When you feel his magic pulsing, creating a shield so no one wandering around the forest sees or smells the smoke, you move, kicking his feet apart at the same time you push at his chest, making him lose balance.
His arms reach out for your waist as he falls back, giving you the opportunity to finally slip the bracelet from his wrist. The sense of accomplishment it brings you is short-lived as you take note of the position you're in, Eris' hand still holding onto your waist, his body completely still under yours. His amber eyes looking up at you, not even a little annoyed or surprised by you taking the bracelet.
A glare paints your features, your mood quickly souring, while a smile grows on his stupidly relaxed face, both his hands moving to hold onto your hips.
“You're going easy on me,” you accuse.
Eris chuckles, the sound shaking his body slightly, and yours with his, a reminder of your current position. The realization makes you look up briefly, trying to see if he had truly put up that shield to cover you both, mother knows what would happen if someone found you straddling your fiancé in the middle of the woods.
“Yes,” he starts, bending his knees and turning your world upside down so quickly you barely register the movement until you're laying down on the grass, his smirk growing. “I am.”
The sight of the Autumn Court's heir kneeling between your legs and looking down at you through amused yet arrogant eyes makes your thoughts stumble for a moment. No matter how much this male manages to irritate you to the point of contemplating murder, there are always moments when his beauty catches you off guard.
“We're only starting,” he says, his voice breaking you out of your treacherous thoughts, “and I have centuries of training on you, but if we keep up you'll grow stronger and there will come a time when I will not overpower you so easily.”
At his praise you find a different kind of heat rush over your body. You curse your parents for being so harsh on you, for making compliments such a rare occurrence in your life. A harsh breath escapes you as you swallow, searching for the right words to thank him, or perhaps pull him back to your usual conversations, hiding every emotion behind thinly veiled animosity. Your and Eris' relationship never went beyond raw anger that slowly transformed into bickering over the years, but lately things have started to change ever so slightly, resulting in confusing situations such as these.
You watch his head tilt to the side as you gather your thoughts, the amusement intensifying as something else burns in his eyes alongside it, something a lot more wicked. The air seems to thicken as your gazes meet in this inexplicable moment. You don't understand most of your body's reactions, but this has to be what losing your mind feels like.
Eris licks his lips, eyes looking above your head for a second before meeting yours once again. “Next time we'll focus on controlling your powers,” he starts, leaving you confused. He nods to the grass around you, prompting you to follow his eyes, finding the remaining embers of the fire you had caused earlier sparking up once again and burning the rest of the leaves. You try to quell them immediately, lifting yourself up on your forearms as a gasp escapes you. How had you not even noticed the smoke? “Can't have you starting a fire every time you get wet.”
It takes a moment for his words to fully register in your brain but when they do your foot flies to his chest, kicking him away from you. Unfortunately, the fire only intensifies with your reaction, and in result so does his laughter. Amber eyes moving to watch the beautiful flame engulfing the old piece of wood, the light reflecting in them making them appear so much brighter, redder.
“Oh, my.”
The amusement written on his face makes you kick him once more, sitting up in time to push him all the way to the ground, Eris never resisting as his body shook with laughter, laying down on the soft grass while you contemplated all the ways you could kill him. You had never seen him laugh this hard, it's just a shame it's at your expense.
“I don't know how vivid and sordid your imagination is but I'd appreciate it if you didn't involve me in your dirty fantasies.”
Eris lets out one last chuckle, looking up at you through half lidded eyes, his lack of reaction to your threats making you even more annoyed as usual. You bite your tongue, trying to not show it on your face, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, especially when you've already shown him more than you ever should have. It had simply been a momentary slip, a result of your lack of experience showing through, that's all.
“As much as I wish I could show you every single, dirty fantasy, it's getting late and we're both expected elsewhere soon,” he changes the subject effortlessly, maybe taking pity on you. When he holds up his hand and you find your bracelet back on his wrist you know pity has nothing to do with it. “Let's keep going. We're wasting precious time.”
Your entire body ached, muscles you didn't even know existed were screaming at you as you sat on the floor. You'd lost count on how many times Eris forced you to attempt taking the bracelet back from him, and even if you had failed plenty of times, your bracelet sat on your wrist at the end, where it belonged. There was an underlying satisfaction buzzing within you. You've always wanted to train like this, always wanted to use your powers and become stronger. It all felt like a dream.
“Come here,” Eris tells you softly, extending his hand towards you. You furrow your brows and look up at him, getting up slowly. He never explains, simply waiting for you to reach him, but you take his hand all the same. You have no more energy to fight with him today, there would be no heart behind it anyway. You're too grateful for him, unfortunately.
He grasps your hand in his silently and winnows you back to the cabin in the blink of an eye, the way he winnows from place to place so much smoother than when you do it yourself, maybe you should ask him to teach you more about that as well.
It had gotten late, the sun already setting and making way for the moon to shine in the sky, and you had to be home soon, before your father arrived for dinner and noticed you gone, so you were about to question him again when you noticed the big tub sitting in the middle of the usually empty room.
“Is that for me?”
“You weren't thinking of going back home directly in this state were you?” He rolls his eyes softly. “You'd be found out this same day.”
Actually, you knew the maids weren't anywhere close to your room at this hour. If you did everything right, you had more than enough time to change back into your dress and get in the bathtub once inside your room. It wouldn't be a lengthy bath but it would keep you clean. Still, looking at the steamy tub, that plan sounded worse than to wait for the rain to wash the sweat off.
“I think I could manage,” you offer.
“This way is easier,” he says, “and the warm water will soothe your muscles.”
This day had been confusing to say the least. Not only had Eris just realized one of your biggest wishes, but also prepared a warm bath for your sore body, making sure at the same time that you wouldn't get caught and suffer your father's wrath. At times like these, you're reminded he's not only Beron's heir or the future High Lord, and see the male behind the charade and the titles weighting on his shoulders.
“Thank you, Eris,” you say, “for everything.”
He watches you for a moment, seemingly surprised by your words and the conviction behind them, before nodding. It's not often you share vulnerable moments like this so you almost want to thank him again when he simply accepts your gratitude without making any further comments, especially with how he usually is.
Turning back to the tub, you wonder how this will work for a moment, seeing as there was only one singular tub, and two of you. Eris takes this as his cue to leave, placing his hands in his pockets after making the flames in the fireplace grow in size, warming up the cabin even more, before turning his body, moving to walk to the door.
“Are you leaving?”
Eris turns back towards you, tilting his head to the side slightly, amusement growing in his expression, but there was something else behind his gaze, just like before.
“Do you wish for me to join you?”
You almost bite your tongue vindictively. Your mouth was working against you today, and with the thoughts growing in your mind, you were starting to think even your brain had left you on your own.
“I was only asking because you need a bath of your own.” Even if he hadn't done much and this afternoon certainly couldn't be considered a work out for him, there was still grass and dirt on him, as well as some sweat. This would definitely raise questions. As you take him in, you also notice a faint, sweet undertone to his usual spicy scent. “You smell like me,” you conclude, your throat going dry.
The heat was almost obscenely distinguishable in his amber eyes now, threatening to consume you whole. As much as you will certainly try to deny the fact when you look back at this moment tomorrow, there is no question that these were two people looking at each other with desire in their eyes. It was also impossible to mistake the sudden heaviness in both of your scents for anything else.
Neither of you say a word for a minute too long, stuck in between your betraying bodies and everything else. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest, the heavy gaze the male in front of you kept you under enough to make you want to do something you've never done before and just give in despite all the consequences.
Eris is the one to find his composure first, clearing his throat and looking down at his shoes before saying, “No one will see me. You don't have to worry about me, doll.”
You nod, knowing better than to try and say anything, lest your words betray you as well, especially after the pet name that usually irritates you to no end sends a different kind of heat to your center. Watching him winnow out of the cabin without another word, allowing you to finally take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, but, even as you sit in the warm water he prepared, you can't take the images of Eris joining you out of your head, the reminder of his body against yours in the woods as he taught you, or the way his scent mingled with yours. You almost wish this was a cold bath instead.
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