#and like. yeah i should get some staples.

[judgeanon]

So About That BATGIRL #1...

I put this review up in another site, but since folks here on Tumblr seem to be realizing I have a lot of Thoughts about Lady Shiva, I figured I'd transplant it here. So here's how I feel about it. The short of it is that I think it's a strong start with a few small quibbles because I'm not sure how much of Shiva's writing is her being intentionally OOC and how much is Brombal trying to humanize her.

The long is here:

Now, one of Shiva's main issues as a character ever since they finally split her from the League of Assassins (God bless you Bryan Hill) is that, instead, writers have stapled her to Cass. Literally every major Shiva appearance since 2017 has involved Cass in some way. That is a problem not so much for Cass, who gets to have her own stories and series with and without the Batfam (although mostly with), but for Shiva, who doesn't get nearly as much exposure as her daughter. If there's a Shiva comic coming out, odds are it's gonna have something to do with Cass. Well, except for the other Shiva comic coming out this month that's gonna suck shit.

But at the same time, I don't think that means nobody should ever do another Shiva/Cass story, because I still feel like that's rich soil that nobody has had the time, space or desire to really commit to mining. Hill in Outsiders was writing a whole ensemble cast and couldn't linger too long on them. Writers like Grayson and Cloonan/Conrad both teased Shiva trying to reconcile with Cass but never took it anyhwere. A Shiva/Cass story can still be compelling and interesting as long as the writer is willing and able to Actually Write It.

So when literally the first panel of this new issue is Shiva addressing Cass and their relationship directly, I'm already perked up. Right from the get go, you can tell that Tate Brombal is absolutely here to tell a story about these two women and pretty much nothing else, and also that Tak Miyazawa and Mike Spicer are a killer art team. I adore how hard Tak's figures look without (usually) being stiff, thanks to some solid body language and expressions. And Spicer's colors have a cool kind of dark-but-vivid look. The last leg of the issue, with everything illuminated by fire, is especially cool.

Going back to the opening, it's curous how despite this being an issue #1, there's very little in the way of character introductions or set up. There's no slow burn here, no lengthy creeping intro like previous Shiva/Cass stories. And while I can't help but feel that it must be a little awkward for readers unfamiliar with them or their current situation, I think it also accurately reflects one of my favorite parts of the comic, which is Cass' being just absolutely fucking DONE with her mom.

After years of hyper dramatic standoffs and tearful moments of cheap heartbreak, it's fun to see a Cass who has no time for her mother, who's not interested in what she's got going on, and who's confident enough in herself to even be a little shit about it. It's fun and refreshing and fits Cass very nicely.

That not-quite-breakneck but still fast pace keeps up when the Unburied show up after just a few pages of setup and you know, in a couple of interviews, Brombal mentioned being influenced by Daredevil. And this is the page that made me go "Ah, yeah, that tracks." 'cause brother, those are some MILLER-ass ninjas.

Why Shiva fears these guys or thinks Cass can't handle them is not yet explained, but her desperation to keep Cass around does lead to a small but very meaning-heavy moment: the first punch in this series is not thrown into the face of the new enemies, but it's Cass decking her mom in the face and Shiva loving it.

It's an excellent touch and a perfect mission statement about the series. I love it as much as I love the ensuing fight, full of cool moves in big and small panels, but the most fun thing to me is how it's choreographed as Cass fighting her mom almost as much as she's fighting the Unburied. And on top of being a great fight, it ends with a small nod to QUESTION #1 or the 'Tec '88 Annual, in case I was somehow not sold enough already.

And while I still love Cass being so willing to call Shiva out on her lies, it does bring up one of the small gripes I have with this issue: I don't like it when Shiva lies constantly. I think she's best when she's strong and confident enough to not need to lie, when she just lays everything out on the table the way this comic is almost doing. It's good for Cass, as it keeps showing her as someone who has grown to understand her mother, who sees Shiva for who she is and what she does. And it does set up a slightly heartwarming scene at the end.

Of course, that's personal preferrence, and I'm not gonna say this is a bad comic because it doesn't follow my own idea of what works best for Shiva, especially since it's clear that Brombal is writing her with a lot of intention here. But that leads to the other big-ish issue I have with this issue: it's a bit hard to tell, from this story alone, how much of these moments are Brombal building his own personal version of Shiva and how much of it is Shiva, in-universe, acting out of character for the sake of some hidden scheme. After all, Cass points out that twice in the issue Shiva backs down, first from a moral fight and then from an actual fight.

So it's possible that even the constant lying is Shiva playing a role in favor of a grander scheme which will be revealed in later issues. Which, fair enough, I'm willing to see where it goes. But that second moment of yielding does lead to what's maybe my biggest problem with BATGIRL #1, and it's the Unburied themselves.

There's nothing in that initial fight with the Unburied that suggests Shiva and Cass would've had trouble dealing with them. Hell, there's very little to suggest even one of them would've had trouble with them. Now, I'm not suggesting that this issue should've started with the titular character and her mom getting their asses handed to them. But it feels like there's just not enough to these new enemies yet to justify the escape. Ninjas show up, Cass and Shiva beat them without getting hit once, more Ninjas show up and Shiva self-defenestrates herself.

Again, entirely possible that Shiva has something up her sleeve here, and issue #2 did promise to show us the main villain behind them, but as it stands it leaves me with this weird mix of not quite intrigue, not quite disappointment. It's just odd. They could've had, I dunno, a bomb set in the building or some other reason for Shiva to exit the venue like that.

Speaking of odd things, however, I did NOT expect to be reading a comic that brings up Shiva's cult from Puckett/Scott's BATGIRL #25. It's an "Order of Shiva" now though, with chapters and temples and stuff. Which is a bit of a change, since back in #25 they came off more like a gang of fanboys than an order of servants or anything like that. And after being summarily disposed by Shiva in that same issue, they were never really explored again.

So this is Brombal not just bringing back a bit of old lore, but also shifting it slightly, turning it into a more organized group... and then summarily disposing of them one panel later.

Also, I don't know what it is but I *LOVE* this panel. Shiva's face, her "wut" pose, the O.O, it's just... beautiful.

Anyway, once they're in the temple for the last bit of the issue, I start to see a bit more of what Brombal's doing. Like Gail Simone and Bryan Hill, Brombal seems to want to soften Shiva up a little, to make it clear that deep inside, she does have at least a bit of a heart, or enough of it to feel sadness at the wasteful death of people she may feel like she owes something to. Compare it to BIRDS OF PREY #62 for example:

This one is not quite as dramatic or vulnerable, but it's clear that Brombal wants to write Shiva with a slightly more human heart. Which, again, I'm not opposed to but I don't think it's the best thing you can do with her. I prefer Shiva being more detached in regards to death, like the most she'll do is see it as a waste but she's not gonna get emotional about it, she's going to be way more matter-of-fact. Death happens and such. But I think that kind of aloofness often gets interpreted as monstrous disdain for life by writers trying to make Shiva into a villain, and if I had to choose between what Brombal's doing and what, well, what Tom King's probably gonna be doing in a few weeks, I'll take this anytime.

Anyway, I also didn't expect to see the apprentice from BATGIRL #26, having apparently gotten a promotion somewhere in the last 20 years. Good for him! Less good for him is the shitload of arrows he eats two pages later but oh well.

The last couple of pages lead to a nice moment of sheer badassery for both Shiva and Cass and one last showcase of Miyazawa and Spicer's glorious team effort. Those two work really well together and I'm excited to see more of them in future issues. And while we're at it, I gotta give props to Miyazawa for being one of maybe two artists to draw a visibly older Lady Shiva.

His version isn't just aged but hardened by that age, looking stern and determined without having to rely on gritted teeth or angry looks. And on top of all that, he still finds more than enough moments to give her the kind of cocky smiles that bring out the more playful side of Shiva that some stories tend to either gloss over or turn into outright sadism.

Man... I just love to see that momma smile.

Other than that, there's a couple of minor quibbles I have with the issue. There's a funny moment where Cass pulls a Batman on her own mother (who charmingly acknowledges Bruce's influence) but it's undercut by Cass poofing back into existence on the next page. And there's also the weird, almost surreal emptiness of the city around them. Even after a building explodes, there's literally nobody on the streets other than Shiva and Cass.

On one hand, it speaks to the intentions of this run. This is VERY much a two-woman show so far, with no room for much else. But it's still glaring enough to be distracting.

However, it's that intentionality that ultimately wins me over. Even with all my personal little issues with Shiva's characterization, it's obvious from the start that this is a writer who is genuinely trying to write her as a character, who is ready to engage with her and with her relation with Cass on a deeper level than just hero and villain, or good daughter and evil mom.

Brombal, Miyazawa & Spicer have put some meat on the grill, and although I don't think the biggest pieces are there yet... I'm ready to let them cook.

[tua-guiltypleasure-aus]

I like this a lot.

Because oh yeah, especially Klaus and Ben have a lack of boundaries and their banter might seem as mean or even cruel to some people, even those that did grow up with siblings.

Klaus regularly brings up the fact that Ben is dead, Ben too and how Klaus should do better because of that.

And why shouldn't they? Death had become a staple of their life, Klaus sees it in life and is always on step there and Ben came out covered in blood of the people he had to murder.

They were never given time to mourn. Five got a painting, Ben a statue and both of those served as a reminder. This is what you will end up as if you fail. Ben died and they were only given off time for the rest of the day. They still had training on the next one. Death wasn't handled as something ground breaking, something that pulls away the rug beneath your feet, a sledge hammer taken to your heart.

It was treated as an aspect of life. It happens. But it is no excuse.

No matter how hurt. Or afraid you are because of it.

Their emotions were never valued.

Ben was clearly uncomfortable having to let out the Horror, having to stand there covered in blood.

Klaus was afraid of the ghosts. And Reginald's attempt at "curing" it was lockung him up with more aggressive ones, with no way to get out and when that didn't do anything, he let him in there for some more hours.

They were expected to embrace death due to their powers.

So it is no surprise why they bring it up so much in conversation or why they sometimes say things that people will say is inconsiderate and insensitive. They never learned how to listen to other's people's feelings because not even theirs were listened to. They didn't matter

This might be a controversial opinion but I think the possession scenes in s2 were not only necessary for Ben’s character but also the characterizations of the Hargreeves’ siblings in general, if only because it re-establishes two of the main issues that they struggle with due to the abuse they suffered as children - being unable to comprehend autonomy and struggling with gaining (and lacking) control.

From the beginning of s1 it’s shown that despite the majority of the siblings’ strained relationship with Reginald, they all still play the parts he assigned to them well into adulthood - Luther is the ever-loyal golden child, Diego is competitive and rebellious but is still playing hero through his vigilante work, Allison has completely leaned into the fame that her powers and the Academy got her, Klaus is the failure that never managed to reach his true potential and Viktor is still ordinary. And when Reginald (while unbeknownst to the siblings) creates a plan for them all to return home and band together, they ultimately end up following through.

We don’t get to really see this with Ben though. Sure, he gets onto Klaus about his addiction - but that’s not a control thing, that’s just because he loves his siblings’ and wants his brother to be safe and healthy, right?

And to an extent the answer is yes. Obviously he loves Klaus. Obviously he wants the best for him. But I think that it’s telling that Ben’s method of trying to get Klaus sober relies on prioritizing other people - specifically himself. In fact, his main argument for Klaus getting sober is because his addiction makes Ben feel like he has no input or control.

And while it comes across as being self-centered, it (in my opinion) shows that the siblings’ genuinely view having some sort of control/input to be important - and they equally expect the others’ to understand why they are upset when they don’t have it.

This leads directly into the possession issue in s2. Ben - who’s been dead for seventeen years, whose Dad methodically stripped away his and his siblings autonomy as children, whose sister literally has the power to make people do whatever they want, whose body acts as a host/portal for a horrifically violent eldritch being - sees an opportunity for control. And he takes it! Because obviously. Who wouldn’t?

While we the audience know that behavior is wrong and invasive - the Hargreeves’ don’t. Their idea of privacy and free will - and honestly just ethics in general - is super screwed up. Even Diego - whose strong moral compass is one of the biggest aspects of his character - doesn’t view Ben possessing Klaus as wrong. To him, it’s a joke at best and irritating to Klaus at worse. It’s a part of a bigger pattern seen with the siblings throughout the show.

Losing autonomy is just normal to them. It doesn’t even cross their minds that they’re being cruel to one another - this is especially true when it comes to Ben and Klaus’s relationship! They aren’t trying to hurt each other in s2 (for the most part), they’re trying to annoy one another - they just grew up in an environment where they never learned where the line was.

Now, I’m just going to end this here because otherwise I’d just keep rambling on about how this relates to the lack of boundaries between the siblings (specifically Klaus and Ben) in general or how it reflects Ben’s view of the horror or a million other different things. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far - but I don’t blame anyone who didn’t.

[oriax]

ough. the fucking groceries again.

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

I'm sorry I can't take your call right now, I'm becoming unhinged about Transformers again,,,

[brainmuncher]

A mis-text-derstanding

After a long night of patrolling around Amity, Danny damn near collapsed onto his bed. His back ached from a stray ectoblast and his eyes felt heavier than a mountain. Technus had done something to the technology around the town. At random a piece of technology would suddenly go rogue with a virus the ghost implemented. The virus would make the item try to capture anyone in the vicinity using any means necessary. So Danny had been doing regular patrols around town to catch anyone who needed help.

That also means that his sleeping time had been radically reduced. Without even the energy to lift his head, Danny patted around for his phone. Once he finally found the device he hefted himself on his side with a groan. It was a new phone since he was the first casualty in Technus’ plan. Thankfully, Sam had given him another so his parents wouldn’t try to make him one. (Who knows what kind of ‘anti-ghost’ protection they would’ve put on it.)

Tucker had promised that he was working on fixing the virus going around. Hopefully, he had some kind of good news to share. As soon as Danny went to message him he realized he hadn’t downloaded their chat app to the new phone. With a sigh he knew that he would just have to use normal texting but with careful codewords.

Putting in Tucker's number with a yawn, Danny sent the first message.

‘It’s your undead bro. The night out tonight was killer. Any news on the techie progress?’

Danny smashed his face into his bed with a sigh after hitting send. Knowing Tucker he was probably face first in his laptop and won’t notice the message for a bit. He could probably just close his eyes and…

Before he could even consider taking a nap there was a generic jingle from the phone. He should really get to fixing that. Tuck deserves a much better ringtone than some bells.

‘Nothing noteworthy yet. It's harder to crack than normal but nothing I can't handle. Do you need me to take over for tomorrow?’

‘Also why aren't you using our chat?’

Danny squinted at the screen with a slight frown. It had been a while since Sam or Tucker tried to go out in his place. They learned pretty quickly that it made Danny way too anxious to have them out there without him. Something about not being there to protect them if they got over their heads made Danny’s chest ache. 

And of course, Tucker noticed that he wasn’t using the app he made. It was a bit glitchy at times, but what tech wasn’t when it came to Danny? Not only was it secure, but it became an easier way for them to establish a timeline for filing. Jazz had been the one who realized that they didn’t have steady information on not just the rouges but the events of the fights. It became a staple to write out what happened and what went wrong after hearing her lecture about it.

‘Don’t have it on this phone yet. And you know how I feel about you being out there.’

Danny watched the screen for a bit, waiting to see if Tucker would reply immediately again. His mom probably caught him on his computer all day and was forcing him to separate himself from it for a while. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for Ms. Foley to do.

‘Yeah yeah, Mr. Possessive. Do you need me to walk you through how to get it again?’

Snorting at the pun, Danny easily replied. If Tucker was feeling sassy enough to joke about that, then he would push some buttons back. It was a simple banter that they sometimes fell into.

‘You know how I get with technology. I’m more likely to break something. Especially since this phone is so new. Whatever happened to flip phones?’

Danny snickered to himself at the message. Tucker had an ongoing war between new and old technology. While he loved his PDA he also admired some of the top-of-the-line devices. It was like the past and the future mixed in his friend's room. He would gush about the new devices but also gush about the older ones that still had functions that the newer ones lost. But flip phones? That was the only technology he knew that Tucker hated. It was the worst of both worlds for him. He’d been so excited when Danny’s flip phone was bricked by Technus’ virus.

‘I’m going to ignore that you said that.’

‘Also there’s going to be trouble in the park near you tomorrow. I’m already planning on going. Do you want in?’

Scooting up from his lounged position, Danny started to write back his reply.

‘Of course, I’ll be there. Don’t need you to go in alone and join the dead. Unusual for him to leave his plans there though. That’ll be fun to write in the report.’

The image of Jazz reading about that brought a smile to Danny’s face. She always found it interesting when one of the ghosts would change a long-time behavior. The fact that Technus was able to keep this rather on the down low would guarantee her interest. He was always one to blatantly announce his plans to the world to hear. Even though it’s a bit of a pain that he’s learning to keep things to himself it would peak Jazz’s curiosity, which made it bearable.

‘It is weird. And don’t remind me about the report. I still have the one from last week to write and I don’t want to do it.’

That made Danny laugh to himself a little. Last week the lunch lady tried to embrace the Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian life. In the overflow of food, Tucker had gotten trapped in veggies. He was visibly green from having to eat some to escape. Sam had been excited about it at first before she saw how much food was being wasted. She ended up getting attacked for trying to explain the damage overconsumption and food waste could bring.

‘You looked like you wanted to vomit afterward. Well, at least we are prepared this time. We don’t always get that chance.’

Danny stretched out his stubborn limbs, feeling himself try to sink into the darkness. He’d have to end the conversation sooner rather than later. At this rate, he wouldn’t have a choice on whether he was taking a nap or not. At the familiar sound of bells, he looked back down at the conversation.

‘Unfortunately. Well, I’ll be finished by the time we meet at the park. I know you usually like to sleep after a long night.’

The reply made Danny’s core feel fuzzy with happiness. Tucker always knows him so well. He doesn’t know what he did to get such a fantastic best friend. It was at times like these that Danny knew he was so glad that they were in this together. With two of his best friends at his side, it made being a vigilante so much easier to bear. 

‘Thanks. Remember that not just the dead get to sleep. Don’t push yourself. Goodnight.’

With that, Danny felt comfortable with setting his phone down to get changed into pajamas. It ached on his back to take off his shirt, but Jazz would be disappointed in the morning if he didn’t. She always got that pinched look on her face when he didn’t take care of himself to her standards. Her standards weren’t exactly high up either so it made him feel extra upset when he missed the mark.

Being careful to not lie on his back, Danny got back into his bed. He curled himself into the blankets with a small smile. One last chime of bells rang out in the room, probably from Tucker saying goodnight back. Picking up his phone, he opened up the lock screen and looked at his messages.

Instead of a goodnight, his stomach dropped as he realized a different number messaged him. A very familiar number.

‘Hey dude! I know you had to get a new phone so this is me. Not only did I figure out how it’s spreading, I think I finally found a way to get rid of the virus.’

Practically throwing himself off the bed, Danny got to his feet. Both his back and his mind screamed at him as he looked over the message. He tapped back to the one he’d just been replying to, finding his heart stopping at the string of numbers. One of the area code numbers was a six instead of a nine. He’d been messaging a stranger this entire time.

Looking back at the messages he convinced himself that it was fine. He was vague enough to not be recognized. It wasn’t like this person was from Amity. They won’t recognize the correlation between him and Phantom. Surely the other person wouldn’t take his words at face value. 

Worst comes to worst he can have Tucker take over his phone for a bit and make sure the other person can’t find out who he is. He hadn’t bought the phone or had it under his name in any way, so they could only find out from the conversation alone.

Breathing out a breath of air he kissed his night of sleep goodbye.

‘I’ll be over in a sec Tuck. I think I just made a mistake.’

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ GIRL, SO CONFUSING kim chaewon x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ previous chapters | richgirl ⭢ that girl (she’s delicious) ⭢ idon’t smoke ⭢ pretty when you cry ⭢ homesick ⭢ super rich kids

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, angst (yn is still at home), family dynamics, rich kid things, swearing, chaewon is still chaewon, arguing, guilt lots of it, backstory’s, chaewon being an instigator, not from yn’s perspective this time, mentions of ed & weight

what just happened?

the only words running through yunjin’s mind. she couldn’t keep her eyes off yn, who was trying her best to look fine, but yunjin saw right through it. had yn always looked like this?

she trailed behind the rest of the girls as they walked off the field toward the car yn had called for them.

the entire interaction between yn and her mother replayed in her mind like a broken record. she had never seen yn so tense before, yn was always so carefree, like nothing could ruin her mood. but her mother? her mother definitely did.

“lunch?” yn asked, the emotion in her voice hard to pinpoint. “you guys went to lunch without me?”

“honey, it’s not a big deal. don’t be dramatic! we were just celebrating your brother’s achievements just an intimate get together that I planned.”

“right,” yn laughed sarcastically. “i’m always so dramatic, huh?”

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

that’s what really got her. yn didn’t seem to notice, but yunjin had been watching her the entire time, through the whole interaction. it kind of scared her how quickly the hurt in yn’s eyes disappeared after her mom’s words. if you hadn’t been paying attention, you’d have missed it entirely.

she had this ugly feeling in her stomach, it was brewing.

“we should get food.” kazuha said as they made their way into the expensive van followed by mumbles of agreement.

"I can have the cooks make something, and you guys can eat in the pool house," yn offered, her voice flat and lacking its usual energy. yunjin frowned, noticing how all day yn seemed to be doing everything she could to keep them from actually going inside her house.

she would take yn as the girl who would love to show off her big childhood home.

“ “you guys?” you’re not hungry?” kazuha asked looking at yn with concern.

“yeah I don’t really have an appetite.”

her mother ignored yn’s words, stepping back to scan her daughter. “this outfit is cute. it looks good on you. maybe lose a couple more pounds, and it’ll look even better.”

yunjin's mind replayed yn's words and then her mothers even as the rest of the girls had moved on from the topic of food. she couldn’t shake it. now that she thought about it, yn never really ate much at the dorms...

that feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

yunjin wasn’t gonna lie and say she was yn’s biggest fan, but to be honest it wasn’t always like that, she never really had any problems with yn when they were preparing for debut it wasn’t until they actually debuted.

“YN OF LESSERAFIM BECOMES GLOBAL BRAND AMBASSADOR OF CHANEL JUST FIVE MONTHS AFTER DEBUT, IT’S REVEALED THAT THE IDOL WAS SEEN AS A MUSE.”

yunjin stared in disbelief at the headline on her phone. yn hadn’t even mentioned this to them. without a second thought, she turned to chaewon, shoving her phone in the leader’s face.

“oh yeah, i saw that earlier,” chaewon said nonchalantly after reading the screen. “that moon family money working overtime, huh?”

“huh?” yunjin blinked, confused. she knew the moon family was a big deal, but would they really pull strings for something like this? yn never talked about her family, much less anything like this.

chaewon smirked, turning her laptop toward yunjin. “i did some digging. chanel is practically a moon family staple.”

yunjin’s eyes widened as she scanned chaewon’s screen. it was filled with photos, yn’s father as a teenager in chanel, her grandfather in chanel, her mother draped in chanel, and even her brothers. But what stood out most were the photos of yn herself. the article showed pictures from her father's press conferences and paparazzi photos starting from when yn was a toddler all the way up to now. in every single one, she was dressed in chanel.

“she’s been wearing it her whole life,” yunjin murmured, piecing it all together.

“yup.” chaewon smiled impressed with herself, “I mean they’ve been wearing it for decades upon decades, why wouldn’t they want the first idol ever from the family to be an ambassador of the brand they love so much.”

yunjin took in chaewon’s words, “oh my…”

“I know right,”. chaewon smirked, “and isn’t it crazy that hybe told us they want us to do things as a group first? but yn is a chanel ambassador, she probably didn’t like the sound of that and pulled daddy into the equation.”

yunjin didn’t want to believe chaewon’s theories but that fact that yn didn’t even tell them about this made it all more believable.

that was practically the beginning of everything. every achievement yn had on her own left yunjin second guessing if it was real, or if it was just the perks of moon money.

yn was, undeniably, the most popular member of the group. she was loved, practically all of south korea had watched her grow up. she had an advantage.

yunjin didn’t like to admit it, but she resented yn a lot. maybe it was chaewon’s words getting to her, but it always seemed like yn never struggled the way the rest of them did. she was praised for everything. when the whole group went through a brutal wave of hate, yn came out of it untouched. it was unfair, her life was perfect.

but after witnessing that interaction, yunjin realized maybe yn’s life wasn’t so perfect after all. she wondered how yn hid it so well. or maybe she hadn’t maybe yunjin had just been too blinded by her resentment to notice.

families in power like the moons were known for not having the best environment, her parents would always bring it, they still did.

“you know when your members grandfather was the head of the family company, they once found yn’s father that was probably about your age passed out in the middle of the road? it was a really big scandal, but everyone forgot about it, I was younger when that happened probably the same age as him but ask your grandparents they’ll tell you all about it.”

“I remember a couple years ago I think your member yn like 12 and she passed out in front of everyone at a press conference, an insider said that the hospital said she hadn’t had any food in her system, again everyone forgot about that, the moon’s perfect image cannot be broken.”

“a couple years ago, maybe four years before you debuted, there was this conference that the whole moon family went to not just your member and her father, mother and siblings like everyone was there, and it was so scary to see, I still feel some type of worry when I see the photo but the whole family looked pale and sick, like they were on their death bed but they still talked and presented perfectly fine, it was so scary and concerning to people that now if you search up the words dead and alive the video and photos will pop up, I remember some people said they think the whole family is on drugs but then an insider said that hospital receives a person from the moon family almost everyday due to them overworking themselves, people don’t know how they’re still alive,”

the last story always sticks out to yunjin she brushed it off when she first heard it but it’s always in the back of her mind when she looks at yn.

because there has been times where yn in the mornings she’d take notice of a hospital bracelet on yn’s wrist, she doesn’t know why she brushed it off but she did.

the feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

all the girls were comfortably lounging in the pool house. there was a tv, so they picked a show to watch

yunjin turned to chaewon, who was sitting beside her. “um, I have a question.”

“yeah?”

“yn’s interaction with her mom was weird, right? like, the weight comment?”

chaewon stared blankly at yunjin. “yeah, it was kind of weird, but that was probably just an off day. it’s normal for moms to mention stuff like that sometimes.”

“but you and I both know yn’s weight is perfectly fine, and it’s not just that and that comment yn said to you about her perfect life after and she seemed so tense, and some of the things her mom said were kind of—”

“okay, yunjin, what is going on? since when did you care about the moon family? they’re a perfectly fine family with all the money and power in the world. if they’re going through a rough patch, they’ll be fine and that comment was just her trying to get under my skin.”

the stories her parents brought up rushed back to her, this didn’t seem like a rough patch this seemed like a lifestyle.

yunjin took a deep breath. “I’m gonna go see where the food is. yn said she was checking on it, but she hasn’t come back.”

“try not to get lost!” chaewon joked.

yunjin couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size of the moons’ house. this was yn’s childhood home? it was massive, she could definitely get lost here. she was about to turn back, thinking there was no way she’d actually find yn, when she heard her voice. it sounded tense, distressed.

following the sound, she crept closer, the voice leading her toward the kitchen. peering around the wall, she spotted yn, on her knees with her face in her hands, talking to jia, one of the household staff yunjin vaguely remembered.

“and then she brought up my weight again, right in front of everyone,” yn’s voice shook, barely keeping control. “she humiliated me!” she sounded desperate.

yunjin’s eyes widened as she watched yn stand abruptly, snatch a glass from a silver platter meant for the group, and hurl it to the ground, the shatter echoing through the kitchen. jia looked at her with a sad, understanding expression, as if she’d witnessed this scene far too many times.

“jia, I’m not good enough. I’ll never be good enough!” yn’s voice cracked, full of pain. “she planned this whole family lunch without me to celebrate achievements when I’m probably one of the most achieved person in this family as of right now, and now they’re all out shopping together!”

yunjin’s stomach twisted as she watched yn pace, her movements frantic.

“I’ve basically killed myself for that woman. I’ve been starving myself since I was ten ten, jia! I’ve done everything I possibly could just to make her love me, and she just… doesn’t. I’d do anything, anything for her, and it’s never enough.”

yunjin felt frozen, like she’d intruded on something far too personal, but she couldn’t look away. she’d never seen yn like this, stripped raw, unraveling at the seams.

“your mother loves you, miss yn,” jia murmured, reaching out gently. “have some tea, and I’ll bring the food out for your friends.”

“I don’t want tea!” yn shouted, her voice breaking. “and they aren’t my friends! they shouldn’t even be here!” she paused, her face twisting in pain. “she hates me, my own mother hates me, ever since that day.”

“that day wasn’t your fault, yn.”

“but it is! I was trying so hard to please her, and I did the exact opposite. I passed out in front of everyone important to her and dad . I embarrassed the family.” her words were choked, each one like she was tearing herself apart from the inside out.

yunjin’s heart sank. she knew exactly what yn was talking about, a story her own parents had once mentioned in passing.

“that was out of your control, yn. you were just a child.”

the scariest part was that yn wasn’t even crying. she was breaking down, but the tears never came. it was like she’d numbed herself.

yn never cried is something yunjin was starting to take notice of.

“no one is a child in this family jia, we both know that.”

yunjin was so transfixed that she didn’t even notice when jia’s gaze shifted, her eyes widening in alarm. yn turned around, following her gaze, only to meet yunjin’s shocked stare.

“what are you doing in here?”

yunjin flinched as she looked up to see yn walking toward her, fury blazing in her eyes. “I–”

“you shouldn’t be in here. is anyone else in here?”

“no, I was just wondering about the food.” yunjin’s heart was racing, she’d never seen yn like this before. “what’s the problem with me being in here? I don’t see the big deal,” she mumbled.

“because this is my home!” yn’s voice was sharp, rising as she shrugged off jia, who tried to calm her. “I don’t need you guys invading my safe space! do you hate me that much? that you can’t even let me have one place to escape from all of you?”

the feeling in yunjin’s stomach twisted painfully.

“wha–yn, hold on–” yunjin stammered.

“what?! am I being dramatic? I don’t care anymore!” yn’s voice cracked with rage and hurt. “did chaewon set you up to snoop on me? is that what this is? how much did you see?”

yunjin stayed silent.

“where’s all that talk you usually have? I asked how much did you see!”

“a lot…” yunjin admitted quietly.

“of course you did.” yn shook her head, her expression twisted with betrayal. “no one respects my wishes. I told you all to stay outside, to stay out of my space.”

she let out a bitter laugh, venom in every word. “just my luck. I’d tell you to go back to new york and live on the rat infested streets where you belong, but that’d just give you another reason to make my life miserable.”

anger surged through yunjin anger at herself. she felt the crushing weight of yn’s words, the realization of just how deeply she’d hurt her. yn needed a safe space from them. from her. and now, because of yunjin’s carelessness, yn was unraveling.

guilt clawed at her, twisting her insides until she felt nauseous. that feeling in her stomach… it was overwhelming.

unable to hold it back, yunjin looked up, her gaze pleading as she met jia’s concerned eyes. “is there a washroom nearby?”

“right beside you,” jia said softly, pointing.

yunjin turned and stumbled toward the door, barely making it inside before collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet. she let everything out, her stomach churning, her chest heaving with sobs she couldn’t control. the weight of her guilt, her shame, everything she’d ignored and avoided, now pouring out in raw, painful waves.

she lifted her head from the toilet and turned to see yn and jia standing at the door with unreadable expressions.

“I’m so sorry.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake had a lot of free time.

In between the time little Timmy was deemed old enough to not need a nanny and his ninth birthday when he got his first film camera, Tim Drake had so much time after school to explore his big, empty house. And so he did, hours upon hours were spent exploring his house.

Mansion, Tim corrects himself. His house isn’t a house. It’s an abandoned mausoleum disguised as a mansion. He intimately knows every creak of the floorboards in the out of the way galleries, every heavy weight curtain shut closed so what little sun that makes it way through Gotham’s gloom is reflected in order to protect the artifacts stored within the walls. Tim probably knows the exact amount of fleur-de-lys on the fourth sitting room’s wall paper- by extrapolation from preexisting data and personal data collection. Basically, he laid on the floor and counted.

Tim had a lot of time. He also had a lot of artifacts to pore over, making stories as he goes and double checking the actual history of the object.

Tim thinks he’s an artifact, almost. To his parents, at least. A child, a thing, they collected at one point in their lives and put on display at the galas they deem worthy to return to Gotham for. Perhaps he’s worth even less, had his parents bothered to look at him more than the lesser art pieces in their storage-mansion. The story everyone knows about him is prerecorded by people who weren’t really there.

Regardless, Tim Drake knows every single corner of his prison mansion. He’s catalogued everything, after all, on a nice spreadsheet. 

And that’s why, as he entered the fifth- and least used- guest bedroom, Tim’s attention immediately cut to the wrong bit of detail. Eyes flickering between the indent on the bed, the mussed- but not terribly dirty- state of the sheets, Tim slowly backed towards the door. His eyes fixed on the spot on the bed, he called out a soft “hello?”

He immediately cringed. He’s not an amateur, and that little “hello” was a mistake that might get him killed.

Tim trembled as the panic set in, tears pooling at his eyes. He wished Batman and Robin were here, they’d know how to-

There’s something appearing on the bed. Tim Drake stares as a glowing figure with white, wispy hair and a black hazmat suit appeared sitting cross crossed on the guest bed. His gloved hands were held out in the universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.

“Don’t- don’t panic!” The thing said, looking rather panicked itself. “I’m, uh, Phantom.”

Tim Drake’s curiosity and mystery-solving mindset slammed down on the toddler’s mind, quickly banishing the fear and panick in favor of interrogating this new, exciting thing.

“I’m Tim. Are you…” Tim frowns, wishing he had Batman’s intimidating growl. “A ghost?”

“Got it in one, kiddo. I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything! I just wanted to rest.”

Tim blinked. He decided right then and there that he likes this person. This… Phantom. If his trust was based on the fact that the loneliness was worse than a dead person, no, it wasn’t.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead..?”

——

Danny stared at the child in front of him, watching the kid- Tim- pout at something. Danny is distracted from the staples holding his ghostly guts from falling out of his non-consensual vivisection when the kid asks him if he’s a ghost.

“Got it in one, kiddo!” Oo, he should tone down the energy. Danny’s too tired right now to maintain that level when speaking to Tim. Now, gotta reassure the kid he means no harm before he reports Danny’s presence to whatever authorities around.

His parents, at best. The cops, at worst.

“I’m, uh, not here to harm you. Or steal anything!” He could tell he landed in some richie rich mansion by the opulent decorations in a seemingly impersonal room alone. “I just wanted to rest.”

Ancients, that had been more honest than he’d wanted. He really was out of it.

“I thought you sleep when you’re dead?”

Danny snorted.

“Yeah, but you can almost never have enough sleep, you know?”

The toddler looks unsure but nods anyways.

“Listen, would you… not tell anyone that I’m here? I’ll be out of your hair soon, promise.

Tim looks like a smart kid. There’s no way he’d fall for-

“Okay.” He fell for it. Danny blinked, stupefied. “My parents won’t be home for a while.”

“What.”

Tim shrugged. “You can stay. The housekeeper is only around a couple of days.”

“You… are you supposed to tell me that?”

Tim sent him a derisive look, clearly bolder now that Danny made no moves to hurt him.

On his cherubic but skinny face, the effect is both adorable and absolutely devastating.

“You’re hurt.” Tim fidgeted with his hands. “I can… I can get you water…?”

His core purred.

“Please. Thanks… Tim?”

The kid beamed at him and left.

Crap. New fraid member it is.

——

Danny, naive: “Surely him trusting strangers is just a one time thing, he’s so well behaved”

Tim, staring Danny in the eyes as he jumps out of the window to go stalk his vigilantes: “I’m gonna go take a walk in Crime Alley”

——

Tim gets Danny water, but it’s tap water from Gotham and is infected with both an ungodly amount of toxins (that doesn’t affect either of them bc one’s dead and the other had been chugging it since they were a baby- Gothamites get bottled water or from Wayne Foundation’s Clean Water Stations) and also like trace amounts of ectoplasm.

Danny: woah this is so healthy water!

Tim, pleased because Danny ruffled his hair: yes, I’m perfect

The rest of Gotham, if they knew: making warding sigils against these two eldritch gods

——

Basically, Danny gets attached and stays mostly because of said attachment but also Danny could see Tim’s budding world dictator tendencies and went yeah gotta curb that

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

the woobification of the lords is something ill never be able to wrap my head around 😭 its insane to me how people can have such a horrible interpretation of events and characters based off of what we have in the actual game

let me start off by saying that ALL FOUR LORDS DID HORRIBLE THINGS (INCLUDING THE DIMITRESCU DAUGHTERS) !

lady dimitrescu isnt some gentle giant who only hates men and loves women and treats them like queens and she just loves living a quiet life with her daughters, she kills and tortures people 😭😭 she like actively killed her maids and drank their blood 😭 they have a basement that has so much blood in it that it goes up to ethans THIGHS

they are muderous and SADISTIC, including the daughters

the woobfication of the dimitrescu daughters is always the most confusing to me. their faces are literally covered in BLOOD 😭😭 they chase ethan around and stab him will laughing and giggling, cassandra literally calls it a HUNT, it is fun to them and they enjoy it

people always try to frame it as ethan breaking into their homes while they are scared and afraid 😭 i can assure you that nobody is afraid of him at first 😭 they dont think hes an actual threat, thats why they toy with him. and dont act like they were unaware of what he wanted. they were all present at the family meeting with miranda, they were all present when they JARRED rosemary 😭 they know what ethan wants, they know who ethan is, to frame them as "minding their own business" is the most absurd interpreation you could make of them

they were all involved, they all knew what he wanted, and they all HAD what he wanted

you can feel sympathy for lady D, when she cries for her daughters with tears in her eyes, she loved them, they were her family, but you cannot deny the hypocrisy. "how can you kill my daughters for your own!" you have his daughters head in a pickle jar! her daughters werent innocent defenless babies who were scared of big ol ethan stomping around in their house, they have weapons! they wanted to hurt him, and they did, and when he fought back he won

i cannot stress enough that in every single fight, ethan is not the first to strike. he is either backed into a corner where its either his life or theirs, or he is literally being tortured/ chased around, what do you want him to do? these people have pieces of his baby, should he have lied down and died?? 😭

whenever ethan is in a situation where the other person isnt stabbing him in the abdomen 100 times he tries to HELP them 😭 he tries to help absoulute strangers of a village he doesnt even know while he knows his own daughter is missing, even when the stranger is also a jerk to him 😭 he wants allies, he isnt actively trying to make enemys, and before you cry "karl heisenberg!" im getting there...

the thing that bothers me with how people treat donna is that although she isnt the WORST she gets woobfied the MOST imo, like she is the ONLY lord (other than karl but hes a outlier because he wanted ethan to come over so they could make out on his bed) who actively lures ethan in, miss dimitrescus, yeah sure u could say that he trespassed, same with moreau, but donna literally LURES HIM IN with hallucinations of his DEAD WIFE, then OPENS THE DOOR for him and TAKES HIM DOWN THE ELEVATOR

she is literally one of the people who ACTIVELY leads him to where she is

she also uses psychological puzzles , like making ethan perform surgery on a wooden doll of his wife and making him run away from a monster that cries like a baby and calls him "dada" 😭 she did not need to do any of that... like at all 😭 she did it because she wanted to 😭 she is by no means innocent at all

she toyed with him for literally no reason other than her own desire and then ethan doesnt even intentionally kill her. he is in a situation where is his trapped in the house and has to find angie, the doll, to avoid being attacked by dolls with like 100 knives stapled onto them

its only when he defeats angie its revealed that he had actually stabbed DONNA. he didnt even intentionally kill her 😭

then moreau... poor moreau... 😭

moreau in my opinion is one of the more sympathetic lords. whoever he was in his life pre cadou has no influence or impact on his life post cadou, the cadou just wrecked his brain functions

all he is is just mirandas minion at this point, he only wants to please her and doesnt really think about anything else for himself 😭

i dont have much to say about moreau because theres not really many people who woobfiy him or pay him any attention really 😭 though i will say he was very unabashedly evil 😭 he did horrible things, such as eating the fishermen and his experiments with the cadou on the villagers, he did it for mirandas approval but its not a excuse for it, hes still a villian 😭 now we are onto karl.... this guy... the woobification of him is insane 😭 first of all, something i dont see people acknowledge is that he actually HAS killed villagers! no he doesnt just use dead bodies (which btw isnt really a step up 😭 some of u set the bar too low man) the lycan gauntlet that he made ethan run through? yeah, he used that before! he has an entire PA system set up in it! he has lights and huge spikey metal death traps! he did not make all of that just for ethan just to "play appearances" for miranda. there were other people who went through that. and they DIED!

their deceased bodies are still in there! karl is messed up and eccentric 😭 it makes him fun, let him be messed up and evil 😭 and yes, karl used DEAD bodies instead of killing people who were alive, so surely that makes him far less evil right?

WRONG! 😭

HE CONSIDERED USING LIVE BODIES FOR THE SOLDATS 😭

karl really isnt a good person, he has reasons for the things he does, he wants to take down miranda and i dont think hed be creating undead zombies in the first place if it werent for her ruining his life but that isnt justification, its just an explanation for why he does what he does. he has a sympathetic back story and motives but you cant erase what he did, hes a villain! he tries to use a baby as a weapon!!! all 4 of the lords are villains, and instead of making other characters worse to uplift your favorite character that did something bad, you can just accept that the character you like did bad things 😭 they are all fictional, if i like moreau it does not mean i endorse eating fishermen 😭 you can like a character that is flawed, or evil, or did insanely messed up things because its RESIDENT EVIL. they are EVIL! they do bad things! like im sorry! but if your fave has a villains wiki it probably means they did some bad things! 😭

i wish people would be able to enjoy a character without entirely dismissing the bad things they did. its okay to like a character that does bad things, its ok to find them interesting and fun! but you cant deny what actually happens in games to try and make them appear as innocent. you dont have to justify every little thing that they do, just accept them as a whole!

of course this doesnt apply to AUs or just posting for fun. you can change media to be what you want to make it more fun. im going to draw lady dimitrescu treating ethan like a unwanted family pet. does that mean that i think she would really do that in canon? no! she would bite him and then tie him up like a pinata and give her daughters blindfolds and bats!

but people need to be able to recognize that fanon is NOT canon.

this post is about canon interpretations,

this is just addressing people who genuinely believe that those kinds of portrayals of the character is an ACCURATE portrayal, because its not.

[baekuras]

nothing like leaving your broken shower curtain to be a problem for later/the next day because after almost flooding your bathroom you didn’t want to deal with that as well only to come back to it halfspread across the room at 3am after having completely forgotten about that disaster

oops?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

The time when your father is out of the house is always the most peaceful. All the same, the anticipation of his return keeps you on edge. You never really know when he’ll be back. He could be gone for days at a time or only a few hours. With news of his new out-of-town assignment, you can at least breathe for a moment. 

He leaves without a goodbye. The word sentimental has never been used in the same vicinity as your father. You and your sisters watch him go, less forlorn than you may appear. Relief washes over you as the door closes. 

“Can we go shopping now?” Adrienne asks. She’s the youngest at eighteen. 

“We should,” you say. “Kitty, you have the money?” 

“In my purse,” the eldest assures you. Kitty, thought your mother always insisted on her full name, Katherine, is almost thirty and wears it plainly. “More than enough.” 

“We should try to buy extra in case he waits again,” you say. 

“Yeah, you always are the most practical.” 

“Can we go to the bakery?” Adrienne asks. Mr. Mulano gave me some money the other day for helping her air out her townhouse. You wouldn’t imagine the dust. I still have a rash.” 

“If you have the money,” Kitty resigns. 

“I do and I want to spend it on us. We’ll get canolis. They were always ma’s favourite.” 

You give a glum smile. Kitty is the most like your mother. The sweetest. Always thinking of others. And she looks like her too. It’s probably why you and Adrienne get in front of her when the storm starts or even why your father doesn’t tend to go after her as much as you. 

And she took your mother’s death the hardest. You grieve more for the life she lived than the life that she lost. She had a monstrous husband and three helpless daughters. She spent her days scrounging despite having a made man and was battered to the bone in trying to protect what little she had. When she died, there was no shield left between you and your father’s temper. 

“Yes, let’s go to the bakery,” you agree. “I’ll pay for coffee. I have some change in my purse.” 

You get dressed in a carefully picked outfit. It’s warm out but you wear a long-sleeved white blouse. You balance it with a tea-length beige skirt. The shirt covers the bruises mostly, though you have to blend a bit of makeup around your neck and your face as always is painted to hide the darker spots. Not much can be done for the split in your lip. 

You go out and the sunshine feels warmer than usual. That shadow still looms. His shadow. No, not your father’s. Barnes’. You’re as embarrassed as you are terrified. Why did you do that? Your father? Dead? You must have seemed so naive. That’s not how it works. 

You shrug it off and go about your day. It’s a rare occasion that you can just enjoy being with your sisters. You do the shopping first. You fill the cart with all you need, and a few extra staples just in case, then go to the bakery. 

Nova is always busy and for good reason. They have more than just coffee cakes and pastries. They have a full sit-in deli and coffee roasted in Sicily. 

You offer to sit with the cart as Kitty and Adrienne stand in line. Kitty wants to look at the delicately iced specials through the glass and Adrienne wants to be sure she only gets decaf. You’re all too happy to have a seat. 

You sit with one hand on the cart and the other on your purse. You look down at the worn leather. The brown bag was your mothers. You didn’t get a lot of what she left behind. Your father threw most of it out, though you know he hawked her jewelry when he got his new car. As much as he proclaims his love for her, he doesn’t show it otherwise. 

The bell above the door rings amidst the buzz of the closed space. They’ll have to open the windows soon to let the heat escape. You glance over carelessly at the new entrance. You snap up straight as your eyes meet the bright blue ones. As if looking for you, the boss finds you, a calm, unreadable expression beneath his dark beard. 

You stare back at him and squeeze the strap of the purse. He fixes his tie and nods his head at you. Your lashes flick in surprise. Then, he faces the horde as they start to quiet. Those ahead of him take notice nd hush, stepping aside to let him through. 

Kitty gasps as Adrienne grabs her arm and moves her away from the front of the line, giving up their turn for the mafioso strutting toward them. He stops before he reaches the counter. The entire place watches. 

“Go on, ladies,” he insists, “it’s on me.” 

You blink and shrink back against the metal frame of the chair. Your sisters don’t move at first and when they do, they use the same caution as when your dad’s huffing and puffing in the corner. They speak to the cashier in low tones and turn to Barnes. They thank him with their hands clutched. 

He placidly puts in his own order and digs out his wallet. The cashier tries to wave him off but he insists. You only catch a few words from your vantage. 

He gets his coffee first and box of pastries. You never imagined him having much of a sweet tooth. The sight of this deadly man in his dark suit in this place is absurd. He doesn’t come to collect the protection fee, men like your father do. No, he’s there for a coffee and dessert. At least, you can’t believe that it would be for any other reason. Especially not you 

It can’t be. 

He turns and struts out without a look back. You stare after him as a low murmur crawls through the bakery. You peek through the window as he passes. His blue eyes glint in your direction and his cheek dimples. Your world is small, too small for coincidences. You’re starting to think there’s more going on than just a job out of town. 

[smokeypeaches-and-honeyplums]

may I request headcanons for Wukong, MK, Red Son, and Macaque finding out their crush or S/O has a snort laugh that they try to hide?

please and thank you

PLEASE?????????????? GOD I HAVE A SNORT LAUGH TOO AND THIS FEELS SO PERSONAL I'M GONNA BLOW UP

Reader is Gender Neutral by default

MK

S/O

MK absolutely LOVES to make people laugh and you are no different

So when he finds out you have a snort laugh, he REVELS in it

To him, it's a sign that he's doing a really good job and! It's really fucking adorable for him

If you're self conscious about it, he won't push you too much about it

He'd never want you to feel uncomfortable while you're with him, so he'll never push further than he's allowed

He'll always express how much he loves it when he gets the chance to though, don't get me wrong

Eventually, it gets to the point he develops his own and it's a never ending cycle between you two

It feels nice to have a bit more of a positive about your snort, but it does hurt after a while--

MK gets worse when he purposefully does what he knows makes you laugh the most

Your nose and throat hurts by the end of it

If you're laughing especially hard, he'll be grinning ear to ear at just the sound of it

He's glad to have ONE consistency in his life, what with everything that goes on

So if he can listen to your laugh before the next crisis, that's enough for him

(THEY TOOK MY YELLOW TEXT--)

Crush

(darkskinredsontruthertilIdie)

You so happened to slip up one day when Redson heard it the first time around, immediately trying to hide it right after

He didn't think much of it, not in the way you'd think at least

He always associated it as another irritating staple that he loves so much about you and infuriates him that it is

Like, excuse me

How dare you have the most charming, cute and cheeky laugh he's ever heard?

A peasant like you shouldn't be making his heart soar so much and so easily all the damn time

What the fuck >:(

Redson wouldn't trying to fish for it as much as the others, his pride prevents him

But he does savour the moments you do do it, don't get me wrong

However, when he sees you hide it every time right after, a part of him wants to try and ease your worries. At least, that's what he thinks

"You know... you shouldn't feel like you should hide your laugh."

"For all the annoying little quirks you have, this one is..."

"It's... endearing."

Silence.

Silence...

"Redson? Are you going soft on me?"

"NO! No- Do not-"

"D'awwww, you care!!"

"Redson cares for me!!"

"Know what?! Forget I said anything."

Cue the laughter, only this time with a bit more snorting given his reassurance in his own special, Redson way

In your fits of laughter, you miss a small smile growing on the demon prince's lips

In all your teasing, it's worth it to see you like this

Crush

Wukong has a tendency to be cheeky to the tenth degree and then some

So trust and believe he already knows

And he REVELS in it

He likes the sound of your laugh in general, so the fact he manages to get you laughing so much that you start snorting makes his heart do flips

He doesn't like that you try to hide it, but he'd be the last person to talk about not hiding something you're self conscious about

Given the whole shared headcanon of glamour, it becomes pot and kettle

Has that ever stopped him tho?

No

So why would it now?

He tries to get you to feel more comfortable with your laugh because he finds it very important to him

Is it another reason amongst a sea on why he loves you?

Yeah

Will he admit it?

No-

Well?

Not now-

Ahem

Anyways, when he hears your genuine laughter, he's shining like the sun and absolutely BEAMING with joy and whines when you hide it

"NONONO, don't hide it! I love your laugh!"

"Don't hide it please :("

Pulls out the big guns (puppy dog eyes) just to make you agree

"Fine"

Happy Monkey <3

Of course, he genuinely does try to make sure you're comfortable about it and reassures you in his own Monkey King way, so don't be too worried.

S/O

Like Wukong, Macaque is the last person to tell you not to hide something, the scoundrel

Motherfucker is hiding EVERYTHING

Smoke and Mirrors the character™

But, that has never stopped him before

With that established, given how all doom and gloom this brooding monkey is, he finds solace in your laughter, and he's picked up on your snorting even when you try to hide it

He hears all

But, unlike the others, he won't push you or try to convince you to reveal something you don't feel like revealing

He would know how that feels personally

And if Macaque is anything at all, he's self aware. enough

He'll let you get comfortable laughing in front of him to your fullest at your own time, while giving you quiet reassurance now and again

Once you're sure he won't judge you for it and you're fully comfortable, your laughter makes him the warmest he's felt in so long

Who would've thought? The Six-Eared Macaque has a heart!/j

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Always a bit puzzled by people saying that anyone who wanted long-term consequences for TotK Zelda's sacrifice are "edgy".

I'm not even particularly in the camp that she should have remained a dragon forever (I think this should have been Ganondorf's fate, it would have been sooo much more impactful than to explode him and move on but anyway). To be honest, I wish the rules for turning back would have been 1) clear 2) active gameplay on the player so that it feels like it's something we have earned, and 3) not make her have amnesia about it and/or at least having her gain some crucial insight because of the experience.

(also: doesn't she crave knowledge? isn't that insanely mean to have her watch over every civilization and every bit of history ever and then take it away from her? kind of dislike how totk privileges the comfort of the player's feelings over what the characters would actually want or need tbh)

To be perfectly honest, I fully expected us needing to turn her back before engaging Ganondorf so we would fight him together, especially since Zelda as a compagnon exists in the game code already (though in a very subdued state). It feels very very strange to me that all of this mechanic of Sages following us existing and yet we never have the very climactic cool Zelda-staple moment of facing Ganondorf or Ganon together (OoT, WW, TP, ST and probably more that I'm forgetting all did this in some way --even BotW had Zelda more involved than in TotK). I'm not sure Mineru was a compagnon that was needed over Zelda honestly, especially given the kind of non-insight she gives us on the zonai (even if the idea of the mecha is cool, it really could have been Zelda using her zonai + sheikah knowledge to pilot one for us or something).

But anyway: yeah, even if this isn't what I would have wanted personally, I think wanting Zelda to remain a dragon is kind of arguably more respectful of her relationship to Link, in a way, that what the game ended up doing. When she enacted this sacrifice, Zelda decided to trust him to such a extent that she lost herself, reciprocated his trust in her and his devotion to her, and now the future of Hyrule exists beyond her and beyond what Hyrule once was, but she trusts them to follow through and be happy and she will watch over them from the stars moving on. It's fine if we manage to save her from that fate, but even if we don't, honestly this sounds like a beautiful story/tragic romance to me, if you want to read it that way. Tragedy doesn't necesserily involve edginess. Fictional pain isn't always mean, or out to get you.

[starkwlkr]

can u make an imagine where Noah is graduating pre-k or something and the whole family would be there like imagine proud dad max 😍😍😍

and a little family interaction between reader max and Noah 🥲❤️

oh, the places you’ll go | max verstappen

You, Max, his mother and sister were in the assembly hall of Noah’s school. It was his graduation from pre-kindergarten and you were holding back tears. Your baby was growing up. The ceremony was going to start soon and Max was getting his phone ready to film and take pictures.

“Do you think he will see us? Maybe we should change seats, there’s some empty ones up there.” Max wondered since they were seated right in the middle.

“It’s fine, Max. I let him know where we are sitting. I’m sure when Noah is on stage you’ll stand up and yell his name so yeah i am positive he will see us.” You chuckled. Then Noah’s teacher came out with a microphone to let everyone know the ceremony was starting.

“Please welcome our graduates!” The teacher announced as music started to play while the line of kids started coming in to the assembly hall.

The kids were lined up by their last name so Noah was near the end, but that didn’t bother him. He was happy since he was next to a friend of his. As he walked towards the stage, Noah kept looking for his family. He then spotted his father waving his hand so Noah could spot him.

“Look! That’s my dad!” Noah told his friend. Noah then waved back to Max.

“He saw me!” Max smiled brightly.

Finally, all the kids were on stage in their little plastic chairs facing the audience. After everyone was seated, Noah’s teacher, Ms. Dutton, have a speech about how proud she was of the kids. She then announced that each kids would come up to the microphone and say what they wanted to be when they were older.

Many of Noah’s classmates said the common careers like astronaut, teacher etc. When it was Noah’s turn, you got ready with your phone to take a video. Noah had told you what he wanted to be and you knew that you needed to record Max’s reaction to your son’s answer.

“Noah, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“When I grow up I want to be the team principal of Red Bull so my dad can win more races and be world champion a lot of times.”

Laughter erupted from the audience, many parents knew who Noah’s dad was so they thought it was funny. Max laughed as well loving the answer. He didn’t even notice you were recording his reaction.

“He’s going place.” Max said while clapping for his son.

“Another Verstappen in Formula 1!” Sophie laughed.

After every kid said their answers, it was time for them to receive their diplomas. Now it was Max’s turn to be the photographer. He made sure to get the right angle when it was Noah’s turn.

“Noah Verstappen.” Ms. Dutton said as the Verstappen family clapped and cheered for Noah.

“Hi dad!” Noah waved to Max from the stage. Max waved back then continued to take several pictures of Noah being handed his diploma. His phone was pretty much pictures of Noah anyway.

After the ceremony, you all went to pick up Noah at his classroom. When you arrived, you found him sitting at his regular seat with his friend playing with toy cars. It took him a second to realize his family had arrived, but when he spotted you, he ran towards you and Max.

“My beautiful boy just graduated! I’m so proud of you, Noah.” You picked him up and showered him with kisses then set him down.

“Congratulations Noah!” Sophie hugged her grandson. “Are you going to help your dad win more championships?”

“Yes! And he’s going to win a lot!”

“Watch out, everyone, another Verstappen is coming to the paddock.” Victoria teased.

“Dad did you see me?” Noah asked as Max picked him up.

“I did! Did you see me?”

“Yeah, I heard you so many times and I told my friend that you were my dad and he said that he likes your car because it goes so fast.” Noah explained.

Noah then decided to show his dad around the classroom and show him some of his work that was stapled to the cork board while you chatted with Sophie and Victoria. Max payed close attention to everything Noah was telling him even if half of it didn’t make sense, he still listened. Noah then showed him a drawing that he made of Max, you and him with his car.

“This is you and mommy and me and your car.” Noah pointed out. “You don’t have your trophy because you didn’t win it yet.” Max assumed it was a drawing of them from Abu Dhabi 2021 before the race started.

“It’s beautiful, Noah. I’m going to take a picture of it so I can show everyone in the paddock.” Max them took his phone out and took several pictures.

From where you stood, you watched your boys. It was too adorable seeing Max with Noah. You knew that Noah would be loved and protected by Max everyday. You thank your lucky stars everyday that Max came into your life.

[reiding-writing]

could i please request spencer reid comforting reader whos been picking at her lips? Like idk maybe he brings around chapstick for her smth. Tysm!

dermatillomania [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. Even unintentionally. So a lot little bit of research later he’s ready to confront you about it.

WARNINGS: dermatillomania (impulsive picking at the skin), mentions of very minor self induced harm, sharing germs??? spencer would be deterred by that i’m sure, well maybe not in this case

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: pretty much straight fluff

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: this marks the my final fic of 2023, currently uploading at 10 past 11 pm so like less than an hour until 2024 (yay??)

i love writing for reid because it allows me to satisfy that nerdy part of my brain that endlessly thirsts for knowledge

Everyone had subconscious habits.

Yours just happened to be more physically harming than some.

You found comfort in the monotonous repetition of peeling away the layers of skin covering your lips, whether it be with your fingernails or your teeth.

It would often leave your skin red and raw, sometimes to the point where they cracked or bled.

It wasn’t usually too bad, but during times where you were over-stressed and under pressure, the small habit of yours became more of a staple of your personality.

You sigh softly as you sit at your desk, head resting in your hands as your eyes pour over the file in front of you.

Paperwork wasn’t exactly stressful when you compare it to the rest of your job, but after the week you’d just returned from it was clear that you needed a break.

Spencer glances up at you from his own desk opposite you, a small frown present on his face.

“Stop that,” His tone is soft and unchastising.

"Hm?" Your eyes flicker upwards towards his, your eyebrows knitted into a small line of clear confusion.

“Your lips. You’re going to scar yourself if you keep pulling at them like that.” Spencer’s words come out even softer than before, a small look of worry in his eyes.

"Oh-"

You pull you hands down from your face, the thumb and forefinger of your left hand that had been tugging at the cracked skin of your lower lip now tucked securely in your right as you clasp them together in your lap in fumbled embarrassment. "Sorry.."

Spencer sighs softly, and takes a brief moment to observe you. The corners of his mouth twitch downwards into a slight frown.“Don’t apologize. I just… I’d hate for you to have permanent scarring.”

You hum softly in response to his caring nature, not meeting his eyes anymore out of the small amount of shame that trickles into the back of your mind, and your tongue runs smoothly over the raw skin on your lip in an attempt at soothing the sting. "Yeah.. thanks,"

Spencer looks away for a few seconds, thinking about your actions. After a beat, he leans over his desk slightly to grab a tube of chapstick from his desk drawer and holds it out to you over the small metal hatched wall of separation between your two desks.

It’s dark blue with no writing or labelling of any kind on it and has very clearly been previously opened.

“Take care of your lips, okay? They’re very important for human expression, phonation, and sensation.”

And to be able to kiss people with.

You hesitate to take the tube from him at first, not because he’d used it, but because it was his, and you knew how much he hated sharing his personal belongings for fear of germ contamination.

“Are you- sure you want to give me this? I can go and get one after work-“ You take the tube from his hand carefully, as though it might explode if you grip it too tightly.

Spencer is slightly relieved to see you take the chapstick, and smiles brightly at you before shaking his head. “It’s fine. You clearly need some form of relief, and I doubt you want to be waiting another six hours.”

He pauses, before adding, “I’d like you to keep it. It’s pure white petroleum, it should solve any soreness or dryness in no time,”

"Thank you.." You give Spencer a grateful smile as you remove the cap and twist the bottom of the tube to extend the chapstick upwards.

You choose not to acknowledge the small dip in the balm from where Spencer had used it on his own lips in the past, fearing the inevitable flush of your cheeks if you thought about the way you were indirectly touching your lips to his for too long.

"I’m- not sure why i can’t just stop, but.. yeah- thanks.." Your half-assed explanation is more of a way for you to distract yourself from your impending emotional implosion rather than a genuine want to explain yourself.

Spencer watches you apply the chapstick, nodding once as he does. “I have some advice on how to stop, if you’d like to hear it.”

You re-cap the tube of chapstick and place it next to the pencil holder on your desk for easy later access, exhaling softly through your nose as your mouth bends into a soft smile. "Alright, have at me,"

“First things first, you should try and figure out what’s causing you to want to peel at your skin.” Spencer dives into full explanation mode once you give him the chair. “Everything has a trigger, and figuring out what yours is is the first step to stopping it,”

You give a understanding nod to Spencer’s suggestion, your mind beginning to scrub your brain for and reasons why you might have the insatiable urge to pull the skin off your lips like you would the meat from a turkey.

“You should also redirect the behaviour. When feeling the urge or the subconscious action towards picking at your skin you should instead reapply a layer of chapstick to your lips instead,” Spencer gestures towards the tube on your desk, just barely visible from his point of view past your pencil holder.

“People with dermatillomania often times don’t realise that they’re engaging in the behaviour, so having somebody who is aware of the situation to redirect your attention is also a good idea.”

He’s obviously referring to himself in this moment, indirectly telling you that he’s willing to be stuck to you like a piece of gum under a shoe until you fully manage to break your habit.

"dermatillomania?" You blink your eyes blankly at him at the unnecessarily complicated term you’d never heard of that Spencer had casually thrown into his sentence.

“It’s the term for excessive skin-picking that causes damage or scarring. That’s what you were doing to your lips just now.” Spencer nods nonchalantly at you like it was common knowledge.

“Oh-“

You can’t say you’re surprised that there’s a term for what you’re experiencing.

You also can’t say that you’re surprised that Spencer knows what it’s called.

Spencer feels the need to explain himself upon your confusion and surprise at the revelation that what you were doing had a proper medical diagnosis.

“I’ve observed you for a while now, and noticed you often picking at your lips.. So I did some research and came across dermatillomania.” There is a tiny bit of embarrassment in his tone.

"You- looked it up for me?"

Spencer Reid had gone out of his way to research something that gave him no personal benefit solely for your wellbeing.

You swear you could melt.

You probably look like you do, physically feeling the pink rise to your cheeks as they heat up in flustered gratitude.

Spencer’s cheeks mirror your own in their soft pink hue, slightly embarrassed to have outed himself to going out of his way to research something on your behalf.

“I did, yes.” He pauses. “I just… well, I didn’t want you to unintentionally do any damage to yourself.”

You let out a soft exhale that could almost constitute as a laugh, pressing your lips together to prevent a smile from breaking out on your face. “Thank you Spencer.. That’s really sweet,”

Spencer nods, diverting his eyes from yours and leaning back in his desk chair to try and look as casual as possible. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve researched countless topics to help the team, this was just one of them.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. But he wasn’t going to tell you that instead of the usual half an hour he would spend learning about something for one of his team mates he’d instead read every single publicly available medical journal on dermatillomania he could possibly find.

He turns his face back down to his work as you do the same, pushing his desk drawer closed now that nothing inside it was any longer needed.

His eyes fixed on the blue tube that rolled to his the front of the drawer as he pushed it closed.

It was identical to the one he had given you in every way.

Except for the fact that the one in his drawer was still brand new.

But you didn’t need to know that.

[theblueflower05]

Just a Little Taste

A/N: Welp. Somehow my breeding/breastfeeding kinks manifested themselves into a story. I wrote this sky high on painkillers and I am a little in love with the whole premise. @tiredmamaissy -I hope more than anything that you enjoy this. You deserve all of the goodness on this site. Your Masterlist is my personal spank bank lol

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: This story is Filthy. Smut with very little plot. Breastfeeding. Pussy Eating. Slight mommy kink if you squint. Very pregnant reader getting pleasured, because pregnant beings can still be sexual. Aged up!Neteyam

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Summary: You’re eight months pregnant with Neteyams child, and after a long day, you both need a little relief. Neteyam x Human! Reader

"Sugar, Honey, Iced Tea

Bumble-bee on the scene.

Yeah, I'd give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie"

- See You Again, Tyler the Creator ft Kali Uchis

Life in the village is always busy. Constantly bustling with life and movement as everyone; human scientist, Avatar and Na’vi alike, rush to keep things afloat.

High Camp is so different then Home Tree had been, the rage of war adding a constant edge to long days and restless nights. You miss the comfort of a slow life, of hazy days down in the jungle. The jagged cliffs of the Hallelujah Mountains still don’t quite feel like home to you.

Still, you go about your daily duties.

Being a Pandoran raised human had always given you a different insight, the two massively different cultures you we’re brought up in clashing and mending to create a skill set that was like no other- it had taken many years of painful trial and error to find your place within the Omiticaya, but healing had always come naturally.

Both holistic and surgical alike. You’d spent years shadowing Mo’at and learning the ancient herbal ways of the people, while well as taking advantage of the many PHD toting scientist back at Hell’s Gate. Medicine had no boundaries, was a way for you to feel close to both sides of yourself. To broach the gap between human and clansman.

You find your skills being needed more than ever. The ever constant raids against the RDA means your hands are rarely idle, forever in movement as you tend to the wounded. Some days you sit in the big Healers Tent with Mo’at and the other Taskarem, and others you’re in the makeshift Medi Bay, which is really more of an Avatar Pod Trailer turned OR, with the handful of human surgeons.

The long hours spent on your feet leave you sore and exhausted, but you have to pull your weight.

Even if said weight is far heavier than usual as of late-

“Y/N” you’re broken out of your thoughts by Max- as he enters the trailer with a holo-tab in hand and a concerned look in his dark eyes “What are you still doing here?”

“I was just finishing up inventory- our antibiotic stock is back way up. Jake was right, those helicopter raids were more than worth it” you’d sorted out the tiny vials of vital medicine by hand, not wanting any to be misplaced or mislabeled.

“You don't think maybe you should head home?” He continues and you sigh.

You miss your tent, and the soft bed of furs that lay inside the secure warm flaps. And the man that waits for you inside of the patchwork leather walls-

“I’m fine” you assure. And really, you are.

It's a fact you have to keep reminding people of.

Yes, you’re as big as a Strumbeast, but you are no less competent. No less able bodied.

Pregnancy is one of the most natural parts of life, a base staple in all’s existence. There are plenty of pregnant Omiticaya women who were expected to play their roles, even as the battle raged outside the safety of the mountain cave system.

It was the nature of your pregnancy that was more…fragile then average. Inside your womb grew a child that would be the first of it’s kind. A scientific mystery: no one had even known it was possible for Na’vi and humans to procreate.

And yet all of the evidence now lies under your shirt. Your stomach round and pronounced, full of growing life.

Full of the love between you and the Olo’eyktan’s eldest son.

Neteyam had left his permanent mark on you. Had part of himself growing inside of you. The thoughts we’re enough to make your knees buckle if you focused on them too hard.

“You’ve been here since 6am, you really should get some rest. Take one of the empty bunks if you want. Have you checked your blood pressure-”

You’re a grown woman. You’re not going to huff and puff and roll your eyes, but fuck, do you want to.

Everyone was so overbearing lately.

Norm and Max we’re constantly breathing down your neck; “The baby has a different growth rate then a human child, we need to monitor the way that your body is responding” Followed closely by Jake who watches you with sharp eagle like eyes and Neytiri, who used to all but ignore your presence, constantly checking in on you throughout the day. Mo’at’s always poking and prodigy, and Kiri almost always has her hands on you in some way shape or form.

You are glad for the support, happy that this baby would be so loved.

But really, you missed being treated like the competent, independent woman you knew you we’re.

“My blood pressure is fine. I thought since we ruled out preeclampsia we weren’t going to worry about it anymore” you know that it’s not going to silence his worry, but still. You can try.

Max goes on one of his science mambo jumbo spiels, and by the end of it you’re waddling out of the lab and back to your hut, annoyed as shit but placating your pseudo father figure all the same. Only a month and a half mor of this and then things could go back to normal.

Everything had just…changed so quickly.

You 're a caretaker by nature. Caring for others is easy, feels right. You’d tucked the much older scientists into bed when you we’re just a pre-teen. Made dinners. Looked out for Spider and the other Sully’s-

And the role reversal still didn't quite sit right with you. Your control freak ways didn't do well with not being the one in charge- you’d been stripped of your title so to speak. You we’re supposed to relax into your new role, enjoy being doted over before the nine month’s we’re over.

You and Neteyam’s shared tent is in the centered in the cave, close to his families, but standing on its own. As private as anyone could get in the busy, close quartered camp. The walls of the hut are familiar, adorned with your combined belongings. Cozy and familiar.

You shimmy free of your confining bra, step out of your cargo pants, then toe off your boots, releasing your swollen sock covered feet with a groan before collapsing into your well loved bed, the soft blankets and familiar scent of your mate lulling you into a deep state of peace.

It’s kind of wild how quickly you can fall asleep these days. Growing a little person from scratch tends to burn a lot of energy and the moment you relax, you’re out like a light.

You don't wake up, even when the horns are sounded for the return of the War Party.

Not when Neteyam makes his way through the camp and enters the tent. He’s wearty, grime covered and hunched over. He only softens when he sees you, tucked safely, into his bed. Your eyes still closed and face still scrunched up as he strips out of his battle band and shin covers. He’s quiet, washing off with the large freshwater basin in the corner before making his way over to his much-missed bed mat.

It isn't until he's crawled under the blankets and wiggled his way as close to you as possible that you begin to stir. His large cat like snout nuzzles into the vulnerable crevice of your neck, chuffing hot breaths against the smooth skin.

You’re not upset at him for waking you up, a drowsy half alert smile stretches over your lips as your hands run up his strong back. Gently working the tense muscles.

He gets so greedy when he comes back from the War runs. He needs to be comforted, to be held and you are all too willing to comply.

Everyone else infantiles you now, and yeah, Neteyam could get a little intense and overprotective, but your relationship had always worked because you were the one person in all of Pandora that babied the future chief.

He was such a sweet man, with so much responsibility on his plate. You loved nothing more than holding him in your arms. Letting him release any and all tension because you had him. You, a tiny soft skinned human, were the barrier between him and the ruthless world.

You’d be such a great mother to his children. His hind brain purrs at the thought. That even through all of the controversy, he knows he’d chosen the right mate. Little and fierce, he hopes the baby is just like you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, tone hushed in the darkness of the tent. The only light coming from the small dying embers of the firepit in the center of the space. Hypnotic shadows dance along the canvas walls and Neteyam's breathing grows shallow as he sinks into it.

The way you smell. The way your heart beats, strong against his cheek. The way your plump body feels so good under his wandering hands. He hadn't been okay, just moments ago. He was delirious, so sick of the fighting that he felt ill with it.

But how could any of those bad feelings exist when he had you waiting for him? Ready to welcome him into your body, your heart, your mind. He doesn't think he could survive without knowing the solace of your love.

“I’m okay, narlor(beauty). Just missed you” he mutters, still trying to dig his face deeper into your skin. He wants to escape inside of you, you chuckle at his futile attempts to mend you both into one entity. His large palms rest against your bloated belly, tenderly and your heart flutters “Missed you both so much”

Being so loved is overwhelming.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

“I missed you, my sweet baby. I missed you all day” you assure him with the words you know he needs to hear. “Our son here thought it would be fun to jump on his sa’nok’s bladder all day. It was like was playing the wokau(pendulum drum) all day long- I spent hours in running back and forth to the bathroom”

Neteyam's laugh is deep and rich. Thoroughly pleased to listen to your stories of your day, eager to hear every minute detail. Desperate to drown out visions of blood and gun smoke with your voice.

“Ah, you have to be nice to your momma, little one” he chastises the bump, raising your shirt over your head, wanting that flimsy barrier gone. His lips trail over the tight skin of your bulging belly as he speaks to his child.

Your son, still safe inside your soft body, knows his fathers voice already. Recognizes that slightly accented cadence, and squirms inside of you happily.

Neteyam usually speaks strictly in Na’vi to your unborn child-

“He needs to know the language of our people, first and foremost”

-he’ll spend hours whispering his mother tongue into your flesh. It always leaves you boneless and shaking. Feeling so special and cared for. Na’vi, though your second language, is familiar to you. You’re fluent in the language- but fuck. The way your mate speaks it is the most beautiful thing. It’s musical, he tells sprawling stories with his colorful words.

There is one English he’s very fond of though. Every time it leaves his plush mouth it makes you grin, sharp. Knowingly.

“Are you gonna be nice to momma, Neteyam?” you question him after a while. His ears quirk, swiveling on his head and his tale flicks once, in obvious excitement.

You know what he’s wanted, ever since he woke you up by nuzzling at your chest. Ever since he peeled off your top and left your heavy breasts bare. Did he think you missed the way his golden gaze would flick to them, eyeing them hungrily.

He needs this as much as you do, but as usual, your sweet boy is too selfless to ask. Won't trouble you with his wants unless you bring it up first.

You reach for his big hand that rests on your belly, and drag it to where you need him. His palm enveloping your tits, the rough callus’s catching on your sensitive nipple just right-

Your pregnancy had been different than regular humanoid pregnancies. Your body worked hard, thrown into overdrive in an attempt to keep up with the fast growing fetus in your womb. You’d started lactating months ago, far earlier then normal. Your breasts firm, full with milk. Ready to feed the child that had not yet come into the world.

At first it had been both painful and embarrassing. You had no child to drink what you were producing and the other breastfeeding women in the tribe we’re hesitant to feed their babies your tawtute(human) milk. Already over emotional due to the hormone change, you’d wept at the fact that you had no one to give what your body readily made.

The fact that you couldn't be a bigger part of your community due to your human heritage, combined with the intense pain that came from having backed up ducts had been too much,

Eventually you’d turned to Neteyam, both your eyes and shirt soaking wet. Begged him to help you. And of course, as always, he did.

It should be awkward, or shameful- but connecting with him on any level is something you cherish. Why would this be any different?

“I’m always nice to you, aren't I, love?” Neteyam gruffs as he gently works at the breast in his hands. Its firm and full of milk, his mouth waters “Do they hurt again?”

“Mhmm” you whine pathetically, and you’re not lying. The skin of your chest is now marred by stretch marks and you’d had to stuff precious, hard to come by toilet paper down your bra all day to keep them from spilling over “They’re so full, Nete”

“Oh” He hums, thumbing at your nipple “Poor momma, I’ll help you. Don't worry” his lips are wet against your skin as he kisses his way to your breast, his tongue peeking out to circle your puffy nipple. A pearlescent drop of milk tops the rosy bud and he groans as it hits his taste buds.

He tells you that you taste good, often. The juices of your pussy, your spit soaked kisses. He’s always been greedy for it, his tongue bullying its way into your holes, desperate for your essence. Your milk is just as delicious as the rest of you.

It quickly goes from kitten licking, wide wet stripes against your pebbled nipple to sucking your big breast as far into his mouth as he could. Careful of his fangs as he gorges himself on your flesh.

He’s loudly appreciative as he suckles on your nipple. Grunting and humming and moaning at the flavor. Your arms come around him, cradling his head to your bosom because it feels so good. Having him this close, knowing that he'd do anything to take care of you. That he truly loved the way you tasted-

Many people thought you and Neteyam would never last. It was lust, they’d claim. Curiosity. A childhood friendship that would fizzle out eventually. Na’vi needed Tsaheylu, it was the lifeblood of all their relationships. Why would the much desired future Olo’eyktan stay with you if he couldn't even properly bond you?

While you couldn't deny that there we’re doubt filled moments that you yourself wondered why he’d chosen you and stayed so loyal to you…you still felt your own form of connection to him. While you’d love to make that sacred bond with him, you didn't feel any less close to your mate.

You never thought that you could be so intertwined with another being.

As Neteyam takes his fill from your breast, you massage the base of his Kuru, firm enough that it makes him hiss. You have no special braid of your own, but he’s always been very free with his when it comes to you.

You can do with as you please. Stroke it. Lick it. Massage it. Hell, he’d even let you touch glowing pink tendrils at the end of it before. Let you feel his exposed nerves, so vulnerable and raw in your hands that he had shed tears as you explored.

Nothing was taboo in your relationship. There was no space undiscovered between you.

Your bodies we’re so very different, and yet you knew his like the back of your hand. All of the strong muscles and hard sinew. The cobalt expanse of his skin didn't have one blemish that you haven't memorized. You could point out his striped pattern in a sea of other Na’vi.

And he knows you right back.

Loves to dig his fingers into your doughy hips, into your pillowy thighs. Your wide ass and ample chest. He loves your form, goes crazy for all of your alien curves. He never cared for your human modesty, he’d wanted to part your ass cheeks and stare at plump of your pussy for as long as he could remember. Wanted to strip you of all of those clothes and just stare.

The fact that he gets to do just that, for the rest of your lives, is his favorite, favorite thing.

You watch him eagerly as he slowly nurses. You can't get enough of the sight of him, his hollowed cheeks, the bob of his throat as he swallows your free flowing milk. He's so strong, his muscles flex in the dim light. All of that strength, and yet he’s so very gentle with you, his rough tongue laving at your sore buds every couple minutes. Soothing and tickling you all the same.

You giggle at a particularly quick swipe, letting out a small squeal as Neteyam’s tongue plays with the flesh in his mouth. His eyes peek open, glittering with mirth and low boiling heat as he meets your gaze. Whin his lips split into a smile, a dribble of translucent white milk escapes. Trickles down from the corners of his lips.

Heat pulses between your legs and you know he can smell how aroused you are.

Neteyam has always been able to turn you on without even trying. A well spoken word, or even a pointed look could get you running your thighs together. All desperate to get him alone and put your hands all over him.

You hate that you cant kiss him the way you want to, your Exo Mask, while necessary to your survival can be suck a fucking menace sometimes.

Your thumb traces his lips, the ones you want pressed against your own so bad. You rub the spilled milk from his chin. Cleaning him up in a way that's so simple, and so beyond erotic.

He breaks eye contact first, like he just can't look at you anymore. His brows all scrunched up, his chest raising and falling rapidly. He releases your sloppy nipple, completely covered in his saliva, and presses his face against the damp skin. Making a sound of distress.

Your fingernails skritch at his scalp, tangled in his many braids “What is it, baby?”

“I wanna fuck you so bad. Eywa, do you even smell yourself, Y/N? So good. I have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay” You nod, agreeing blindly. He can have whatever he wants.

“Fuck you hard, though. Gotta pound you. I know I shouldn't but it’ll be alright, huh? Won't hurt the baby?” his face is still buried in your skin, you cant even see his expression as he pleads for your pussy. It makes you so hot.

You push at his chest, needing him to get off of you for just a moment. He’s heavy as shit, a dead weight- doesn't really move until you're pouting and demanding for him to just give you a little space.

Enough that you can wiggle out of your panties and spread your thighs wide for him. Your swollen, sticky pussy on display for your mate.

His nostrils flare, and his thin tail whips wildly behind him.

When he swings your thick thighs up onto his broad shoulders, you let out a low, appreciative moan.

“Such a good boy for momma” you praise him the way the people praise the Great Mother. The cradle of your thighs a sanctuary where you both come to worship.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Welp, I should be finishing up Part Three of First Love/Late Spring or plotting out future installments of The Sweetest Sylaung, but here I am writing nursing filth. Lol I truly have zero regrets, this story was so very self fulfilling(even though it partially came from a request). I hope you guys enjoyed though

As mentioned many times before, requests are currently open. Please send in all that good shit. I could use a good distraction from real life!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

You OK? - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 1433>

"OK, this should help your nose," you said, handing a stuffy Charles a steaming mug of peppermint tea, hoping it might clear his nose out somewhat. "But I don't like it," he mumbled, begrudgingly holding the mug in his hands.

"I know you don't, but you're going to have to deal with it," you told him, taking his hand and gently pulling him over to the couch. "Now, I'm going to make dinner while you stay here and get some rest," you told him, pushing him down.

You draped a blanket over him, making sure he was all cozy before kissing him on the forehead. As much as Charles was cute when he was sick, when he got sick, he got sick. And this time, he had a horrendous cold. 

He relied on you for everything, whether it be getting him dressed in the morning, to the simple things like getting him a glass of water. It was a hell of a good job he wasn't driving for another week, giving him plenty of time to recover. 

"I don't need dinner, I just want you," he complained, pulling his arms out of the blanket and holding them out to you. "You need to eat, Charles," you smiled, dodging him as he tried to grab you. "This isn't fair," he pouted, his flushed cheeks and ruffled hair adding to the ultimate picture. 

"Life isn't fair, darling," you smiled, going back to the kitchen to get started on a classic chicken soup. It was a staple for any person who had a cold, and Charles was no exception. You heard a huffed sigh from Charles, as you heard the muffled thud of him falling sideways onto the couch.

After around fifteen minutes, you heard the sound of shuffling behind you. "You OK, my love?" You called out, not turning to look at whatever he was getting up to behind you. You didn't receive a response, you just felt arms wrap around your waist and a head on your shoulder. 

"Can you come and sit with me for a bit? Dinner can wait," he sniffled, pressing himself into your back as much as he could. Charles was still wrapped up in his blanket, but he still wasn't as comforted as he could have been with you. 

"I won't be long, go and sit down and get comfy," you told him, still setting things into the pot, ready to go on the stove. "But I need you to be comfy, baby" he whined, burying his face into your neck as his breath was warm on your skin. 

"I promise, I will be with you once I'm done with this," you said, feeling him grip onto you even tighter. "I'll just stay here until you're done," he said, resting more of his weight onto you. You knew he was stubborn, so you were fine with just leaving him there. 

You stepped to the side to grab something out of the fridge, and you heard a groan come from him as he was detached from you for a split second. "Amour, you've gotta tell me when you move," he told, resuming his position of being clung to you like a turtle shell. 

"OK, darling, OK," you smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "Left in one, two, three," you counted down, before the both of you took a step left in unison. You felt him smile against your neck, clearly liking the system you had going. 

"I'll let that warm through, then dinner is served," you said, spinning in his arms and marveling at the sight of him, all wrapped up in his blanket. "I feel like shit, baby," he groaned, leaning forward and resting his head on your shoulder again. 

You could hear how blocked his nose was, and there was nothing you could do to help him. "Do you want a tissue?" you asked as he sniffled again. 

"Yeah, please," he nodded, and you went to the bathroom to grab him one. As you took your first step, he grabbed your hand and walked with you. He didn't want to be without you for a second on a normal day, but when he was sick, he got clingy and he needed physical contact with you at all times. 

"We can go and sit now," you said, as he took your hand again and you took him to the couch. You allowed him a minute to get comfortable, before sitting down beside him. As soon as you sat down, he wrapped his arms around your waist and resting all of his weight onto you. 

"I feel much better already," he mumbled, a dazed smile on his face. As long as he had you, it didn't matter how sick he was or how ill he felt, he would be happy. "I'm glad you do," you smiled, spotting the undrunk mug of now cold tea still sat on the coffee table. You should have known he wouldn't drink it. 

"I'm going to go and serve dinner, and I will be back in no more than two minutes," you said, trying to shimmy out of his grasp as it tightened around your body. "I'll be counting, and if you're not back in two minutes, I'm coming to get you," he said, and you knew he was serious. 

Well, he was trying to be serious. His reddened cheeks and nose and nasally voice made it hard for you to take him properly seriously. "OK," you smiled, ladling the soup into bowls and bringing it to Charles.

"You were on 115 seconds, so you got away with that one by the skin of your teeth," he grinned, taking the bowl from you. "This is amazing, thank you," he smiled, spooning small mouthfuls of the liquid into his mouth. 

"No problem, my love," you said, sitting down. Charles nestled himself into your side again, still sipping away at your soup. When you were both done, you tried to take his bowl to go and wash it up. "Can you do that tomorrow?I just want you with me," he asked, looking up at you with those glassy green eyes that you could never say no to.

"OK, I can do that," you agreed, putting the bowls down on the coffee table and sitting back beside him. Just like clockwork, Charles slotted himself into your side again, and you lightly trailed your fingers up and down his back. 

"I really want to kiss you, but I don't want you to get sick," he groaned, tiredly pouting at you. "You can get me sick if you're going to take care of me," you softly chuckled, moving your hands up to his hair, tangling your fingers into the chocolate strands. 

"I'll always take care of you, no questions asked," he said as if it were an obvious thing. "But, I don't want my baby feeling like this, so I'll restrain myself," he explained as if it were the hardest task that man could ever complete.

"Well aren't you just a hero," you teased and the both of you giggled. 

"I am refraining from kissing the love of my life so that she doesn't have to endure the pain I am in. I am a hero," he laughed, pulling you impossibly closer. 

"You are a hero darling, you are," you reassured, kissing the top of his head. 

"I know," he chuckled, closing his eyes. Having a cold really took it out of him, and he had been following you around your house like a lost puppy all day.  

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a completely blocked nose. Charles, on the other hand, was energized and fit as a fiddle. "You've given me your cold," you grumbled, sitting up in bed as he looked fresh faced. 

"So you're telling me I could have kissed you that whole time since you were going to get sick anyway?" he asked, sounding nearly annoyed.

"I guess so," you laughed. Charles never failed to make you smile, no matter how ill you may have felt. Without another word, Charles moves closer to you, cupping your cheek with his hand. He gently pulled your face towards him, you lips connecting in the middle. 

"You're going to get sick again," you pouted, wiping your nose with your sleeve as you pulled away from the kiss. "I really don't give a shit," he dismissed, pulling you back in, revelling in the feeling of getting to kiss you again. 

He didn't care that he was definitely going to get sick again, and getting to kiss you was completely worth it. 

A/N - First off, I absolutely adore this one, and I don't tend to like the things that I write, so this is a nice, refreshing change. Also, I won't be posting tomorrow, Friday or Saturday since I'm away, but there is a poll you can vote on for me here. Requests are open, and I love you lots 💖

|masterist|