#and the game just gives me trash for all that time spent it's always just junk that does nothing i'm so frustrated and tired today

[thingswhatareawesome]

at least i got blade to 80/80

[haikyu-mp4]

Classroom duty

word count; 1317 – f!reader

Iwaizumi was on classroom duty this week and he used to hate that. It meant that he got to volleyball practice late and didn’t even have time for a healthy snack. In addition, he had to make some kind of small talk with whoever he was paired with. It goes by the pairs in which the desks are placed and he was never the best at socialising outside of the athletic world.

However, classroom duty wasn’t so bad this time around, because ever since last break, he was paired up with you. Iwa didn’t notice you that much before, he just knew you were bright and kind. And of course, he couldn’t deny to the universe that you were nice to look at, but he would still keep trying to deny it to his friends. 

He knew he was fond of you. You with the cartoonish drawings of the teacher on the sides of your notes so you could make him smile in class. You with the lipgloss that looked like it might not taste good, despite how it made your lips look so biteable. You with the evil little laugh every time your paper ball would hit the trash and his didn’t. Yeah, Hajime Iwaizumi was very fond of you.

“Iwa?”

“Sorry,” he shook his head and chuckled awkwardly, glancing around at the pristine classroom. “What did you say?”

You snorted a laugh and turned around pointing to the garbage bags collected by the door and ready to be thrown away. “I said, let’s go?” Hajime spurred into action, happily finishing up here and putting those muscles to good use.

Usually, there was this thing where the people on classroom duty did rock paper scissors for who took the trash, letting the other off. No one knows who started it, but it stuck. Oikawa seemed to believe you and Hajime were the only ones who didn’t follow tradition.

“Why does she even go with you when all she does is hold up the lid on the trash can while you do all the heavy lifting?” Oikawa complained now that his best friend was finally back in his volleyball uniform. Some might say he was jealous.

Iwaizumi shrugged, about to answer when someone else did from behind him, making him turn around and causing Oikawa to lift a brow at the interruption.

“Sounds like she likes you.”

“Mad dog?” Oikawa exclaimed dramatically with a gasp. Kyotani glared at the setter.

“No, we just do it that way, you know?“ Iwaizumi said, sounding a bit like he was fishing to hear it again. Hear that you might like him.

“Okay, whatever,” Kyotani grumbled. Charming as ever. His two per cent of extra respect for Iwaizumi went into that effort and now it was spent.

They went back to practice, and Oikawa forgot about the interrupted gossip as soon as the practice game started, leaving Iwaizumi to mull this over himself. When this week was over, would you stop talking to him so much?

The next morning, you’re both there early to prepare the classroom, and Iwaizumi greeted you with a shy nod. “Last day!” you cheered. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed you for a few seconds as you skipped over to the teacher’s desk, where you picked up the note left by the teacher and then walked over to the chalkboard to prepare it. He liked how you were always so bright, even as you had to be there earlier than everyone else. And then he was happy to see you weren’t invincible, when you looked a little more tired in the evening while walking out with the trash, stubborn smile still directed at him like you refused to give up.

But for now, it’s still morning. “You sound excited, any plans this weekend?” he asked, leaving the mop in the corner after mopping the floors. Then he strolled up beside you, picking up the sponge to go wet it. You turned to glance at him exactly when he turned away. Maybe he’ll ask me out if I say no?

“Not much. Just happy it’s the last day we have to do these chores,” you said, seemingly carefree in adding little hearts and stars around what the teacher wanted. It made Iwa smile as he placed the wet sponge on the little edge beneath the chalkboard.

Wait, she’s happy we’re done? Maybe Kyotani is totally clueless. “Oh,” he said, not meaning to. “Me too.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” you teased, putting the chalk down and turning to him. “You like taking the trash out?”

“Maybe…” he said defensively, clenching his fists and then unclenching them again. “I like hanging out with you.” There, at least he said something.

“Iwaizumi…” He looked at you hopefully but glanced away quickly when he realised his face was burning. “You know we still sit beside each other when the week is finished, right? It’s not like I’ll stop talking to you.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, embarrassment sinking into every nerve of his body because he hadn’t much thought about that. “Of course,” he said first like it was instinctual. I just like hanging out with you alone. That’s what he should have said. Instead, he stuttered out meaningless sounds for a second before the bell rang and students started rushing to their seats, meaning you had to move too.

Oikawa sighed from the entrance to the classroom, in absolute disbelief at how his best friend, the ace of all aces, in his opinion, could fumble so badly for a girl.

“Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi closed his eyes at the agitating, grating voice that interrupted his peaceful lunch on a bench outside in the sun.

“Shittykawa.”

“Hey! I’m here to help you.” He sat down beside his best friend, opening his bento and stuffing some food in his mouth. Iwaizumi was chewing slowly and waiting to hear more with a disinterested look on his face.

“With?”

“Your love life.”

Oikawa went on a rant about grand gestures, making some very grand gestures himself while explaining, and Iwa could just not figure out why the girls swooned for him when he looked so stupidly invested in his stupid plan for his stupid love life.

“Are you even listening?” Oikawa asked, angrily stuffing another spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Absolutely not. I will not be renting a horse and armour.” And even though that was evidence he had in fact listened, Oikawa was not pleased that his best friend didn’t seem to understand what an expert in love he was. “She’s probably not even interested.”

“Iwa!” Another voice said, making him turn around and almost knock over the water bottle beside his bento.

“That you listen to.” Oikawa mocked from his side, but anything he said went in one ear and out the other once again, when his eyes fell on you.

“Hey,” Hajime greeted you, somewhat awkwardly as you hadn’t chatted much outside the classroom or on the way to the trash containers. “What’s up?”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” you asked, your words sharing space with a sigh as you had jogged over.

“He’s not,” Oikawa answered, and while that would normally make him annoyed, he just repeated it while still looking at you.

“I’m not.”

“Maybe we can go out for some ice cream? Or a coffee?” you asked further, and it was obvious that you were nervous despite trying to seem confident, not smiling like you usually did. He didn’t answer right away, so you involuntarily went into a word vomit. “I was waiting for you to ask, but then you didn’t and if you’re not interested then we can just forget this, but…” You stopped and looked at him hopefully, one hand on either hip.

“Take him, please.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even need to look to plant his hand over Oikawa’s face before giving you an endearing smile. “I’m interested. Coffee sounds perfect.”

masterlist

/a special thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with my writer's block for this one

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOT A GAME — JESS MARIANO

based on a request

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: the playful banter was fun at first, but the line had blurred so long ago that you were starting to get sick of wondering how jess really felt. luckily for you, he’s been thinking the same thing.

warnings: angst into fluff, jess being annoying in a way that makes me love him more lol, swearing ofc,

author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i hope it does jess justice for you— i love writing him so much. i hope you enjoy — sorry it’s quite short i just wanted to keep it short n sweet

———

“Well that’s two hours of my life I’m never getting back, huh,” Jess took a final sip of the drink he’d been cradling for the whole film and threw it dramatically in the trash, his arm slung around your shoulder, “Think I aged like fifteen years in the time they took to wrap up that fuckin’ terrible plot.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him and discarding your own empty cup as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and eyed you curiously, “What, don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you shrugged, “You’re just being pretentious.”

His brows furrowed at that — he hated when you of all people called him pretentious, and he knew you only ever did it to wind him up.

“Okay, what have I done?” Jess huffed, “You so didn’t enjoy that film, you’re just trying to piss me off. What did I do?”

You looked down at your feet with a grunt, “Nothing.”

“Despite my sweet baby face, I wasn’t born yesterday Y/N. It’s not nothing.”

The truth was that he had done something.

In fact, he was always doing the exact thing that had just tipped you over the edge.

“Fine, Jess,” you drew in a sharp breath, “I just— I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

“Have I missed something or was that movie just so dull that it corroded your brain?” Jess kicked a stone as he watched the frown on your face, “‘Cause I don’t remember playing any games. Not even footsie. What are you talking about?”

You scoffed, “That, Jess. Exactly that!”

“Woah, woah, c’mon Y/N. You’re going to have to give me more than just snapping at me. What the hell have I done?” Jess was growing increasingly frustrated now, but so were you.

You pressed a palm to your forehead, “I’m— What was that in there?”

“I was asking the same question,” Jess’ perplexed expression made your own angered one soften a little.

“What is this? Me and you?” you looked down at the floor as you posed this question, not wanting to argue any longer and too afraid wanting to see his reaction, “Because I’m sick of playing games and not knowing. You put your arm around me at the cinema, you share your popcorn with me when you’d like—literally snarl at anyone else if they asked, we kind of flirt like all of the time but we’re just friends.”

“Just friends, huh?”

You almost felt silly when you looked up at him and saw a smug smile on his face — almost.

But you were trying to open up to him and he was being just as irritating about your relationship as he always was.

“Jess…”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, taking your hand and pulling you around the corner to a park bench where he tugged you to sit down beside him.

“Do you seriously think we’re just friends, Y/N?” he was so close to you that you were sure he could hear your heart palpitations and see the goosebumps springing up on your skin.

“Well we’re not enemies, we spent a fuck ton of time together, and we’re not dating. So yeah, I’d like to think we’re friends,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head, “Why the hell do you think I invited you to see a fuckin’ romcom I’d never want to watch? Why do you think I asked to share popcorn? I know I’m the intellectually superior one here,” he paused to nudge your side as if to ensure you understood he was teasing, “But I didn’t think you were dumb enough to miss that I was obviously trying to make this a date.”

You bit your lip, finally returning his eye contact as his soft eyes stared intently into yours.

You drew in another deep breath, “Sure. Jess Mariano, Mr. Always Speaks His Mind, failed to tell me it was apparently a date so I’m dumb for not reading his mind?”

Neither of you had noticed that he was still holding your hand until that moment, and so he pulled it to the corner of his mouth and gave the back of your hand a gentle kiss.

Despite the unfamiliarity of this small but romantic gesture, your heart swelled in your chest and it almost felt natural.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you for fuckin’ ages. Everyone knows that. We flirt and we act like there’s nothing going on when people ask, but I thought at the very least you knew how I really felt,” Jess shrugged, not releasing your hand and instead now rubbing his thumb over the back of it.

You didn’t retreat from his touch, but used your interlocked hands to shove his chest gently, “You’re an asshole, you know that right?”

The small smile tugging at your lips eased the anxiety that had begun to set in. He’d almost started to fear that you didn’t actually feel the same, but your unsteady breathing and the glint in your eye confirmed the opposite.

“I know, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “But that’s all just part of the elusive charm that made you fall madly in love with me, isn’t it?”

You shook your head, “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“Well in my defence, the prettiest girl in Stars Hollow has, like, totally got the hots for me,” your heart fluttered at the smirk still gracing his features, “Hard not to have an ego.”

You just chuckled softly in reply, your heartbeat still racing as he watched you carefully. His own gaze softened now, and he reached his free hand up to cup your cheek.

“Look, in all seriousness I’m sorry this has been so— well, just that I haven’t been more direct about this stuff. But you know me, you know I’m bad at—,”

You squeezed the hand that was still in yours, “I know, Jess. It’s alright. I really like you, and to be honest I’ve been happy enough with any excuse to be close to you.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward a little, “Can I kiss you, then? Make up for a shitty first date?”

You blushed crimson at the fact he’d asked, your cheek growing hot beneath his touch, “Of course.”

His lips met yours gently, as though testing the waters. You met his kiss with the same softness at first, but quickly the kiss grew more urgent — as though making up for lost time.

When you finally pulled away, your face was still bright red, and you felt almost embarrassed by how overcome with emotions you were.

“So, uh, about the film?”

He laughed, the loud affectionate laugh he reserved only for you, warming your heart as he sent you a teasing grin and licked his lips.

“And here I was thinking I’d be the one to ruin the moment, huh?”

———

thanks sooo much for reading — i hope this was okay! sorry for the radio silence for a while, i’ve had a lot going on and a LOT of unfinished drafts.

if you wanna read more of my stuff — here’s my masterlist!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I hope you all have a great day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, at least on your end. Lloyd chews loudly, licking his chops, and sucking his fingers loudly. The rose tint is tinged gray.

You pull into the compound and shift into park sharply. You don't move as you wait for Lloyd to get out. He wastes no time ditching you, letting out a shameless belch as he drops down onto the ground. The door snaps shut behind him and you huff.

You look over at the garbage left in his place. That's exactly where you belong. Right there with the trash.

You swipe up the crumple bag filled with wrappers and his half-finished soda. The keys jingle against the paper cup as you swipe your phone out behind you. You dump what's left of the espresso from your own cup and sheath it around the other.

You elbow the door shut and cross the dark grounds. The moon is a sliver that offers little light in the dark. You approach the doors and enter to the muted ruckus of voices and clinking bottles. Yet another night of debauchery. You don't know how Lloyd hasn't fallen right in with his guests.

You go to the kitchen and jam the bag and cups deep in the bin. You have half the mind to go through the fridge and get rid of all those meals you slaved over. Just like everything else, he'll spit it back in your face.

You flip open the door and stop yourself. No, no, he got the reaction he wanted, you're only shooting your own foot at this point. 

Your eyes center on a dark bottle with a silver label. Fuck it. You snatch the prosecco and swing the fridge shut.

You march back down the hall and ignore the din that seeps through from the dining room and various other doorways. You go upstairs to your room and close yourself in, letting the wood slam into the frame. You're not even mad at him, you're furious at yourself. Why can't you just accept it?

You drop the keys on the dresser, your phone too, and keep the bottle in hand. You untwist the wire around the cork and toss it aside. You push with your thumb until it pops and a fizzle escapes the long neck. 

You watch the wisp that rises and you gulp straight from the bottle. You cringe as your eyes water from bubbles and the stringently sweet wine floods your mouth. You gulp until you can't anymore. A quarter of the bottle down, you plunk it on the nightstand and let it sink into your veins.

You undress lazily and leave your clothes on the floor. You don't give a fuck. For one night, you just don't want to think. Hell, if you drink enough, you might just do something real stupid.

You grab the bottle and carry it into the bathroom. As you bend over to twist the faucet, the wine creeps into your brain, hazing your vision in warmth. You pull the lever for the stopper and slowly push yourself straight.

You lean on the porcelain and take another swig. You pop your mouth off the rim and lift one leg, then the other. You ease into the tub, splashing slightly as the water flows higher and higher.

You lean your head back, resting the bottle against the edge as you grip it tight. The ripples around you and beneath the skin and numb the ache in your chest. You close your eyes, drinking without thinking, guzzling until your stomach is full and the tub is nearly full.

You lay as you are, basking in the heat of the water. You could fall asleep right there. Just drift beneath the surface.

That thought jerks you awake. You sit up, dizzy, and get to your knees clumsily. You reach over the side to clunk the bottle onto the tile. You flip the stopper and lift yourself.

You get out, feet crashing onto the bathmat. You cling to the tub and take a breath. You reach for the bar and drag the towel off. You don't feel too bad, just a bit unsteady.

You wrap yourself up and teeter as you bend to grab the bottle. You clamber towards the door. You nudge it all the way open with your elbow.

As you enter the room, you stagger to a halt. You don't expect the figure sitting on your bed, watching you enter as he faces the bathroom door. You blink and squeeze the bottle tighter. 

You're buzzed. No, you're drunk.

You skin singes with self-awareness. Not only of the alcohol that dulls your mind but of the single piece of fabric around you.

“It's not healthy to drink alone,” Thor grins, a paper crinkles between his fingers, “or other things.”

He shows the slip of paper and you shake your head. He clicks his tongue and squints at it, “didn't take you for a cherry girl.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head, confused until you recall hastily hiding away the receipt in your pants. Fuck.

“I don't really use lube myself. Don't need it,” he reaches to drop the paper on the night table.

“What are you…” you clamp your lips shut as a hiccup rises. You swallow it and sway. 

“I don't make promises I don't keep, “ he stands, towering over you as he comes closer.

“You… it was a joke, wasn't it?” You babble dumbly.

“Why would I joke about that?” He stops before you and wraps his hand around the bottle, “mm, not much for bubbly,” he wiggles it free and swiftly empties what's left before examining the empty bottle, “how was your little business trip, eh?”

You frown and cross your arms over the top of the towel, “why are you here?” You ask again.

“I told you–”

“No, why… why did you come here? He hates you.”

“I got that sense of him,” Thor chortles, “doesn't bother me much.” He backs away and sets the bottle on the receipt, “I'm here to play with him. Have a bit of fun. However, he's not as amusing as I hoped. But you…”

“I…” you shake your head, “I'm drunk. I need to lay down.”

“Happily,” he winks as he reaches for you.

You sidle away, “please, I…” you swallow and your eyes flit around, “I can't–”

“Because of him? You’re wasting your time,” he latches onto your hand and draws it away from your chest, “he doesn't deserve you, little lamb.”

“I don't… it isn't because of him…”

“You're a poor liar,” he tuts, “shouldn't take your lessons from him.”

“Stop,” you try to tug away.

“You don't know what you need,” he drags you towards the bed, “it isn't him.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“You don't need to be nervous, I can be nice, kitten,” he purrs as he yanks you against him.

“I can't–” you squeak into a yelp as the towel falls away from your body, “Thor, please–”

“Louder,” he swiftly picks you up with his hands on your ass. 

You writhe against him as he spins and falls with you onto the mattress. It bounces under you and you nearly choke on your tongue. You slap his chest as he leans over you and smothers your mouth with his.

You close your eyes as they tingle and you dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt. You whimper and feel around with your other hand as he kneads your ass. You're overcome by his brusqueness. More so, you can't handle the touch, the way his hot breath consumes you, and that flicker on your core that has the vision of another flashing in your mind.

You turn your head and let out a croak as your tears leak out, “I can't,” you whine, “you're right, okay? I want him. I'm a stupid girl that wants someone like him.”

You bring your hand up to shield your face as he lifts himself on his elbow. He hovers over you as you devolve into sobs, “I'm pathetic.”

“Shhhh,” the soft stroke along your cheek startles you, “little kitty,” he slithers, “shhh.”

He shifts and comes down to his side. He slips his arm under your neck as you curl up, trying to disappear. He rolls you towards him so your face is against his shoulder. He pets your head as he holds you.

“Oh, little one,” he cooes, “it hurts now… but I can make it so much better.”

He stays like that, embracing you as you quake in your despair. You keep your face buried against his shirt as his thick muscles fill you with a sense of security. His other hand rests on your hip but does not wander.

Heaviness drapes over you and your body slowly slackens. The wine dulls your nerves and swirls in your head. You feel yourself spiraling and quickly fade into the void.

❤️‍🩹

Your brow twitches and your nose itches. You nearly smack yourself as you throw your hand up and groan. The effort makes you wince.

Ugh, hungover. It's been a while.

You bend your leg and the blanket falls away to uncover your naked thigh. You frown and peek down as you lift the blanket. No clothes. You blanch and lay back, trying to summon the memories of the previous night.

The buzzing of the shower draws your attention away from your internal search. Along with the thrum is the deep baritone singing a song you've never heard. You blink, long and hard, and push yourself up.

Your heart feels as if it's stopped beating. Your breath catches and you look around the room. There's clothing hung over the chair in the corner. Men's clothes.

Oh god.

You wouldn't…

As the melody carries, slightly offkey, you recognise the singer. Thor. Oh. Oh no.

You curl your fingers against the mattress, barely able to hold yourself up. You remember the bath and then him waiting and him on top of you but everything else is gone. How can you not remember? 

A pit plunges down to your stomach. No, you're not like that. You've held out all these years…

Well, how many chances did you really get?

The shower cranks off and you gulp, hugging the blanket against your chest as you sidle around to the edge of the bed. You can hear him moving around, humming. You don't know what to do.

As the door opens, you try to think of what to say. Hi, good morning, what the heck happened last night?

You're speechless as he emerges butt naked. Brazen as he has himself on full display. Full display.

You snap your mouth shut as he uses a towel to dry his hair and winks as he drops it down to wrap his waist. 

“Morning, kitten,” he growls, “you seem chipper.”

You try to talk but can only cough. You reach to touch your throat and rub the lump free, “Thor, what… last night…” your voice cracks with each syllable.

“Ha, you think we…” he lets the suggestion dangle and scoffs.

You nod. Of course, he's all bluster. He wouldn't actually want you.

“When it happens, you will remember it,” he taunts, “I like to build up to sleep fucking.”

Your jaw falls open, “Thor…”

“Besides, if anything had happened, you would remember it.”

“I…” you flutter your lashes, “I should–”

“Well here you are,” he knots the towel around his waist, “lucid…”

“...get dressed,” you complete your previous threat.

You stand but he blocks you easily. He catches your shoulders and urges you back. Your legs hit the mattress and you sit, unable to fight his strength.

“Now?” You squeak.

He rumbles with laughter as his hands trail down your arms, “just a taste. To pep me up for the day.”

“Uhhh,” your voice rolls out senselessly as his hand crawls over the blanket and he tugs it. You cling to it desperately. 

He snarls and yanks up the bottom, tossing it over his head as he seizes your thighs beneath. You yelp as he bows and pulls your legs apart. You lose hold of the blanket and it rumples at your waist as you catch yourself on the heels of your hands.

You wriggle and try to resist him as his head pokes up beneath the blankets. He has you leaning back on your arms as he pulls your legs over his shoulders. You lift a hand and slap his head as you realise what he's about to do.

Too late.

Your hand falls against his head as his hot breath tingles along your thighs. His cool tongue slips between your folds and you gasp, electricity coursing through you. Oh!

You let out a pathetic noise as you push futilely on his head, still writhing as he nuzzles further into you. His large tongue spreads wide and he flicks it up over your clit. You spasm and yipe in surprise at another zing.

“Thor,” you breathe.

He pulls back for just an instant, “louder, kitten, can't hear you under here.”

He dives back in and the bed bounces as you jolt. You try to smack him again but only urge him. You gasp and quiver helplessly, toes curling and legs tingling. What do you do?

Oh god, what can you do? This is better than any toy you got hidden in your nightstand. This is an actual man. It's real and it feels so good.

He wraps his arms around your legs and rips you down onto your back as he lifts your pelvis higher. He hums into you and it ripples up to your chest. You hiss and slap the bed as lay defeated.

“Ohhhhh,” you drone out as you succumb to the delightful swirls.

He growls and your breath hitches. He turns his head, just for a moment, and nips your thigh, “louder…”

You mewl and utter his name. It's as much a plea for him to keep going as it is for him to stop. He laps at you again and you cry out. That seems to fuel his fervour as he suckles at you eagerly. 

Your voice rises without your permission. Your whines burst from you as you claw at the blanket and squirm. You can't hold back. It's more than just that moment, it's years of waiting, of wanting.

You don't care that it's not who you wanted. You don't care if anyone else hears. You can't think straight enough for any of that as you call out Thor’s name, bucking your hips desperately into an orgasm.

[therealcocoshady]

Love Game - Part 2

Author’s Note : As a lot of you have been requesting… here is a part 2 for Love Game ! Thank you again to my dear @shady-577 for giving me the idea to write this ❤️. And thank you to all of you who have been supporting my writing ! It means the world to me ! I will be enjoying some vacation in Switzerland for a few days so I might not be able to reply to messages & asks right away. Keep them coming nonetheless 😏.

It took three weeks for Denaun to finally talk to Marshall. In all their years of friendship, it was the first time they spent this long without a form of contact. They had been through everything together : crashing on each other’s couch when times were tough, working menial jobs, sharing food when they were broke, grieving Proof together, hyping each other up… of course, they’d had their ups and downs but three weeks without talking was tough. What was even more surprising was that, for once, it wasn’t Marshall going MIA, it was Denaun. It was extremely out of character for him. Whenever they’d had fallouts, he had always been the first one to reach out and apologize, even when he was not the one at fault. So not picking up the phone for three weeks was unlike him and Marshall blamed you. For all he knew, you were at Denaun’s constantly, trash talking him. He was positive that, if it weren’t for you, his friends would have talked to him at least once. So in his mind, he had insulted you a thousand times and wished you the worst.

Little did he know that you spent most of your time home, secluded in your bathroom, victim of morning sickness that lasted the whole day. You didn’t go out as much and only kept up with the guys via text. It took a while for Denaun to reach out to you too. You assumed that he was hurt about the fact that Marshall and you had fucked around, throwing the whole group dynamic to the fire.

- It was nothing, Nauny, you assured him in a soft voice over the phone. It was a one time thing. I swear it didn’t mean anything.

- It’s not my business, he said. You guys are adult. You can do your own thing.

- I know, you said. But… you’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to lie to you. And I don’t want to lose you.

- Y/N, are you crying? He asked as soon as he heard your breaking voice.

- I’m just really emotional, that’s all, you said evasively.

Half an hour later, he was ringing your doorbell, your comfort food in hand. You had a long conversation and he told you he was just hurt about the dishonesty of it, and that he had felt lied to. You apologized again and ended up talking about Marshall lashing out at you.

- I don’t even know what his deal is, you said honestly. I guess he thought I wanted more.

- Did you ? Denaun asked with a straight face.

- God no, you assured him. His ego jumped to conclusions but I just wanted to… whatever.

- You can tell me, doll, he said as he put a hand on your shoulder.

- I can’t, Nauny, you sighed. It’s just… I’m in deep shit. And I wanted to tell Marshall about it.

- I’m here for you, he assured you. You know I got you, right ?

- I know, handsome, you said as you cupped his cheek. I’m just… going through a lot.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you tried to pace yourself. He brought you into a bear hug and you quietly let your tears stream down your cheeks. He gently held you, whispering that everything was ok, that he got you and that you could tell him everything. He was the sweetest guy you knew and you felt lucky to have him in your life. You knew he meant every word and that there was no problem of yours he wouldn’t happily solve. He wiped your tears with his thumb and gave you a smile. You sat on the couch and started to eat.

- So… What’s that deep shit you mentioned ? He asked.

- Oh, I don’t want to bore you with the details, you said evasively.

- You’ll never bore me, doll ! He assured you. I’m your friend. And I’m all ears.

- I’m pregnant, Nauny, you blurted out.

He stared at you in silence, his jaw almost dropping to the floor. You felt ashamed, as if you were a teenager telling her mom she’d been knocked up. You felt stupid, too. How dumb did you have to be not to think of protection ? Thank God, your medical exams showed you didn’t get a STI. That would have been te cherry on top of this very embarrassing cake.

- Wow, he said after a minute. So wha- I’m sorry, I… Are you ok ?

- I am, you said. I mean, I’m throwing up a lot and I’m exhausted, but other than that, I’m fine.

- And the baby ? He asked as he looked at your flat stomach.

- I’m having an ultrasound in a couple of days, you informed him. I’ll know a bit more.

- Do you think you’re… Sorry, doll, I’m trying not to be insensitive but do you think you’re going to keep it ?

- I don’t know, you said earnestly. I haven’t made up my mind, yet.

- You should tell Marshall, he said sympathetically. I mean… It’s his, right ?

- Yes, it’s his, you confirmed. Look, he clearly didn’t want to talk to me, last time we were at your place. I think I’ll wait for the ultrasound and make my mind. I’ll talk to him about it if I decide to keep the baby. But I won’t force anything on him.

- Even if you get an abortion, he should know, Denaun said. If the baby was mine, I’d want to know.

- If the baby was yours, what do you think I should do ? You asked with a sigh.

- I’d love to be a dad, someday, he said. So I’d want you to keep it. Only if you want to, though. But I know you’d be a great mom. You take care of all of us all the time !

- I wish all men were like you, Nauny, you said as you rested your head on his shoulder.

You spent a couple of hours talking, and he actually convinced you to call Marshall and let him know about your pregnancy. You nervously grabbed your phone and called him but he wouldn’t reply. You were feeling emotional and hormonal, so it was enough to bring you to tears. Thankfully, Denaun was here to console you and he took it upon himself to set an appointment with Marshall. He decided to have both of you meet at his place. Marshall thought he was only meeting his friend, not knowing you’d be here and that Denaun would actually leave the two of you be, so that you could have a talk.

As soon as he walked into his best friend’s living room and saw you sitting on the couch, you could see that he was annoyed. He immediately looked at Denaun.

- I thought you needed to talk to me ? He asked with a sigh.

- Well… I don’t, Denaun said. She does, though.

- So you lied to get me here ?

- Wouldn’t have had to if you just picked up your phone, his friend replied. I’ll leave you guys to it.

He left the room and you just stared at each other in silence. Nerves were starting to get the best of you and you regretted listening to Denaun. Maybe you should have waited until the ultrasound, or until you had made up your mind about this pregnancy. Ever since you had met, Marshall had been an absolute sweetheart to you. He was warm, kind, compassionate and always distracting you with his humor. Contrary to what you would have expected, getting close with him had been easy. You had felt immediate chemistry, like the one you had with Denaun, but even more intense. And it hadn’t been long before the two of you flirted via text and even threw each other longing glances while you were with the others. It reached an apex one night after dinner, when Marshall drove you home. He had walked you to your door after you had confessed you were anxious to risk meeting your annoying neighbor in the hall and, as you went to peck his cheek to say good night, he had turned his face, your lips accidentally landing on his. Next thing you knew, you were stumbling in your living room, making out while his hands explored your body, bunching your pretty summer dress at the waist. The night had been passionate and proved that the two of you were sexually compatible. You had always felt at ease with him, and sex was no different. That night, you had been more daring with him than with any other partner, asking you to do stuff to you that made you blush when you thought about it. He had happily obliged, a smirk on his face, whether it was to choke you or to fuck you senseless, ass up, face down and buried in a pillow while he grabbed a handful of your hair. He had been a gentleman about it, though, and after the deed was done, he had been nothing but sweet to you, making sure he hadn’t hurt you in any way.

But the man who was facing you was neither your friend nor the gentleman he had been that night. He was cold and distant and you didn’t even know why. It was so far from what you knew of him.

- What do you want, Y/N ? He finally asked. I thought I was clear, last time.

- You were, you said. But I need to talk to you.

- There’s nothing to talk about, he sighed. We fucked. That’s it. Look, you know that I’m not the relationship type.

- I know but-

- No but, he continued. It was nice, I’ll give you that. And I’m sorry you caught feelings or whatever but it’s not mutual and I would appreciate it if-

- I’m pregnant, you blurted out.

- You what ? He asked, though you could tell he had heard you.

You knew you probably should have eased him into it, and that blurting it out probably wasn’t the best way to tell him, but you couldn’t stand to hear him ramble like this. You were not an impressionable young lady anymore and him implying that you might have caught feelings after that night was ridiculous. As far as you were concerned, it had been a nice night and, sure, you wouldn’t have minded if it had happened again, but you weren’t the relationship type either. Your past experiences with men had been pretty traumatic and you weren’t searching for anything romantic. If companionship was something you were after, your rapper friends sufficed you. You liked being a part of the group, hanging out with them. And as far as you were concerned, it was enough. The last thing you needed was someone to throw off your independent lifestyle and break your heart all over again.

- I’m pregnant, you repeated. I thought you should know.

- And it’s mine ? He asked.

- Yes, it’s yours, you sighed. I wouldn’t tell you otherwise, now, would I ?

- Are you sure ? He asked again.

- That I’m pregnant ? Yes. I’ve had blood work done and I’m scheduled for an ultrasound tomorrow, you explained. And yes, it’s yours.

- How do you know ? He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

- How do I- What do you think ?! You finally snapped. I know because you’re the only man I’ve been with in months !

He mumbled something and you watched him swallow dryly before sighing. Obviously, he wasn’t ecstatic. Not that you expected him to, mind you. To be fair, you weren’t too happy either. You had always wanted children, but this was far from what you had envisioned.

- Are you going to keep it ? He asked.

- I don’t know, you said. Abortion is not off the table yet. But whatever I choose to do, I thought you deserved to know.

- Ok, he hummed. I’ll pay for your abortion.

- I didn’t ask you to, you pointed out. And I might not have as much money as you, but I earn my own, I make a good living and I can afford my own healthcare.

- I know, he sighed. But look… we both made a mistake and it’s only fair that I pay for it. And it’s probably better than the two of us having our lives ruined.

- Ok, you said. I’ll- I’ll get an abortion, then.

- Are you ok ? He asked. Like… with the symptoms and everything ?

- I’ve been sick a lot, you admitted. Tired, too.

- I’m sorry.

He was cold but, at the same time, he seemed rather considerate. He was looking at you intently and you sighed in relief. At least, the cat was out of the bag and he knew. And now that you had talked to him about it, it made sense to get an abortion. The two of you made small talk for a second and he said you could call him if you needed anything, regarding medical appointments, and that you could keep him posted.

A couple weeks and several medical appointments later, you were scheduled to get your abortion. You had texted Marshall about it and, even though you could feel he remained distant, he had wished you well, even offering to pick you up after. However, you had felt more comfortable asking Denaun, who had been an absolute sweetheart. He had been calling and visiting you regularly, checking in on you and even having food delivered to your door. The night before the procedure, though, you had nightmares and were feeling insanely guilty. You’d had the stupid idea of Googling stuff about pregnancy and abortion and you were haunted by the testimonies of women who said they regretted doing this. You still went to the clinic and Denaun stayed in the waiting room. You were taken to a room and a nurse came to get you.

- Are you ready ? She asked.

- I… no, you said. I can’t do it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to.

- It’s fine, she said with a reassuring smile. You’re allowed to change your mind. Do you need a minute ? To make sure ?

- I think I need to go home, you said.

She nodded and escorted you back to the waiting room. As soon as he spotted you, Denaun got up.

- Are you alright ? He asked.

- Did you mean it ? You asked back. When you said I’d be a good mother ?

- Of course, he said.

- Good, you replied. Because I’m keeping it.

He took you home and stayed with you for a few hours, until you started yawning and went to bed. You fell asleep immediately but were awoken by the sound of your phone buzzing.

- Hello ? You asked sleepily.

- You haven’t replied to my texts, you heard Marshall say. I wanted to check up on you. Are you ok ? Are you still at the hospital ?

- No, I’m home, you replied. I was asleep. Sorry.

- How did it go ? He asked.

- It didn’t, you said. I couldn’t go through with it.

- Do you need me to get you an appointment to a different clinic ?

- No, Marshall, you said. I… I’m having this baby.

- Are you serious ?! He blurted out. Fuck… tell me you’re joking !

- I’m not, you said. And before you say anything… it’s my body. It’s my choice. And I’m not asking anything of you. I know you don’t want it and I’m not going to force anything on you. If you want to be involved in that child’s life and upbringing, you’re welcome to. But if not, I don’t hold it against you.

- Ok, he said. I… I’m going to need time to think.

- I understand, you replied. Look… I’m sorry.

- I’m sorry too, he sighed.

A few weeks went by and you didn’t hear from him. When you were hanging out with the guys, whenever there was anything planned, he wouldn’t show up. You highly suspected he was avoiding you because, as far as you knew, he was talking to the guys regularly. You were starting to show a bit and, eventually, you decided to tell the guys, while not mentioning who the father was. You told them at a dinner party you hosted at your place and they were happy for you, joking that they were going to be uncles, telling you that if you could handle them, a baby wouldn’t be a problem. It was heartwarming and, in your heart, you knew you had made the right choice. You were feeling emotional and overcome with emotion, so Denaun held your hand under the table, gently squeezing it. You were so grateful for his friendship and his presence by your side. He had been so good to you and he was one of the reasons why you thought you could do this.

You saw Marshall again weeks later, at Denaun’s studio. Everyone was there and he walked in while Denaun was taking a picture of you and Bizarre goofing around, holding your respecting bellies. His gaze met yours and his eyes then went to your stomach. You weren’t showing too much yet but the skin tight dress you wore made your pregnancy noticeable. However, he didn’t comment and addressed you normally. You were coming back from one of your many trips to the bathroom when he intercepted you in the corridor.

- Hey, he said.

- Hi, you replied. Are you ok ?

- I am, he said curtly. Look… I’ve thought about it.

- So ? You asked.

- I’ll be there, he said solemnly. If this is my baby, I want to be involved.

- Good, you said nervously. That’s… nice.

- I want proof, though, he added. That it’s mine.

- Marshall, I already told you it’s yours, you said calmly. You’re the only man I’ve been with. It can only be you.

- I want a paternity test, he said. I want proof.

- Don’t you trust me ?! You asked, clearly offended.

- No, he said. I’m sorry but I don’t trust you.

- When did I ever give you a reason not to ? You asked.

- Come on, Y/N, he sighed. Have you seen yourself ? You wear the shortest dresses known to man, you flirt with everything that moves ! For all I know, you’ve been with all of us. Hell, maybe you don’t even know who’s the father. Could be any member of D12. I’ve seen you bat your eyelashes at Nauny, bat your eyelashes at Bizarre… I’m not taking your word for it.

- Are you fucking serious ?! Call me a slut while you’re at it !

- Your words, not mine, he said coldly.

[slutt4ellie]

Sacred Hearts Entwined

(Bare with me this is the first story i’ve ever written!)

Ellie Williams X Reader

masterslist

Part 2 -> ✞

Part 3 -> ✞

What do you do when you’re falling hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend?

Summery: You’ve been friends since 2nd grade first meeting in school. Growing up in a religious background you’ve always been taught the “right” way to think. So why are you falling in love with her..?

Warnings -> Mentions of the “d slur” / Parents are controlling / homophobia / Both extremely confused of their feelings / cheating / (lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 2.3k

(Did not proofread!!)

The girl who caught your eye since you were kids, Ellie Williams.

Age 6 (grade 2) -

You didn’t have much friends, after all it was only grade 2 and being popular was probably the least of your concerns, at least that’s what your mom constantly told you.

Growing up as a naturally shy kid, meant going outside of the box to talk to people wasn’t precisely your idea of “fun”! That’s why you often dissociated, it seemed easier that way? So, as soon as the bell rang for recess you would go to the back of the playground where no one else sat watching the different animals the would scale the trees while the birds would flow through the sky.

But today was a different day, as you did that normal routine a girl sat beside you, freckles that trailed all around her face and light green eyes that shined in the sun with auburn hair which ended up being almost bright red in the sun.

“Do you like watching the animals too?” She asked fairly quietly looking at her hands, you sorta look at her and nod, to nervous to talk..

Age- 7 (grade 3) -

You shortly did learn her name after that moment, Ellie Williams. To be fair you actually started learning almost everything about her. She’s an only child, loves spending most of her time doing art or playing outdoors, she’s way more extroverted then you ever could be, and she has a pet dog named Max.

You and Ellie almost spent all your time together if not at her house playing outside then you guys would be cooped up in your basement finding new board games while your mother cooked dinner for you guys upstairs. Coming out of your shell with her seemed easier then other people, she made it easy. After all she didn’t get easily bored of my shyness through the beginning.

Age 10 (grade 6) -

“Okay push!!” Ellie groans pushing a trash bin closer to the convenience store ladder which leads to the roof. “Ellie this is dumb” You say on the opposite side using your back to help her push it. “Just relax! Once we get up there, then we can practically see the whole town!” She smiles continuing to push it “But if we get caug-“ You can’t even finish your sentence before she talks “We won’t get caught!” She says as the trash bin finally reaches the end of the brick wall.

“K boost me!” Ellie smiles walking up beside you as you slowly crouch resting your back on the cold metal trash bin, you put your hands in a cuff which Ellie’s foot rest in as you lift her up. She’s not even standing on the trash bin for more then 10 seconds before the bottom gives out and she falls feet first in the bagged trash “Ag fuck! Help!” Ellie groans trying to lift herself out.

You burst out laughing not even grabbing her hands to help her up and out, but now she yells “Help me!!” You’re still cackling as she practically falls out “Eww now you smell weird!” You laugh getting away from her “Oh yeah you want a hug?” Ellie says chasing after you as you run away into the distance.

Age 14 (Freshman year) -

“It’s bullshit!” Ellie says annoyed “They didn’t care about signing us up for a catholic school for the last 10 years” Ellie says kicking in her new shoes she got for her uniform “Maybe just a change of heart” You shrug almost accepting it “You barley even care” Ellie says looking at you “Us pouting isn’t gonna change our parents mind, the decision is final now?”

“I don’t wanna even go, I look really dumb in a skirt.” Ellie holds it up disappointed “Ellie you look fine in a skirt” You sorta smile looking at her “I don’t, I rather just wear the pants.” Ellie groans sliding her hands down her face dramatically “Well I think you look good?” You say partially because you want her to stop whining about it but mainly because you mean it.

Age 15 (grade 10) -

“So you’re going with Alex then?” Ellie ask looking at you as you read a book “I mean yeah he asked it would be weird not to go?” You sorta shrug “K..? I- We just always made fun of people who went to the dances, I just didn’t except you to suddenly change?” Ellie says, she wants it to seem like she doesn’t care but she’s genuinely doing a horrible job covering it. “I guess I didn’t get the impression you cared so much?” An annoyed tone leaking through your voice.

“I don’t.” Ellie says almost coldly adding on a few seconds later. “I’m probably gonna dip, my parents want me home soon anyway.” Ellie says standing up. You sorta just wave also not in the mood it’s been a long day and you don’t wanna fight with Ellie over a stupid thing like going to the dance with someone.

16 (grade 11) -

The moment where the story starts to go downhill, well this is it. You got together with Alex a few weeks after the dance and you’ve been together all summer. Leaving little time for Ellie, and don’t get me wrong! It’s not like it’s purposefully happening, it’s just the fact that you’re both at 2 different points and spending all your time with the person you’ve previously been doing that with for 10 years isn’t exactly on your top priority list. Ellie’s also just been weird around you, she doesn’t like it when Alex is brought up occasionally sighing every time he’s even mentioned or going on about how she can’t see you guys going beyond high school. And at this point you finally talk “You say it like you’re fucking jealous?” You say a bit pissed off.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” Ellie claps back. “I don’t know Ellie! Please you tell me, every time I bring him up it’s like the idea of me dating someone repeals you, I don’t get why you’re not happy for me!”

“Who ever said I wasn’t happy for you” Ellie says now no longer walking so she can actually look at you in the face. “You just imply it constantly, like am I missing something, did he do something??” You say actually wanting to hear her opinion, why she hates him. Ellie chokes up though, wanting nothing to do with the real reason she doesn’t like Alex.

“Because I-“ She stops, and switches what she was going to say. “Because me and you barley hang out anymore, last summer all we did was go to each others houses and now you have 0 time for me!” She sorta yells. “Because Ellie I have a boyfriend? Did you not except us to grow up?” You now yell back, this whole argument is picking up fast. “I expected you to have the fucking decency to hang out with me once in awhile, you think i’m some girl who’s just obsessed with you and it’s getting old” Ellie says hurt that becoming evident when her voice cracks. “Ellie I didn’t say-“ You can’t finish your sentence because she talks. “It’s fine we can hang out later.” She says turning around and walking away.

To be fair half of you wants to chase after her, talk to her like you used to before you guys even started high school, but you don’t. This isn’t a movie after all.

(Present: Saturday)

You and Ellie haven’t talked in about 4 days since the little fight, the annoying part of it is the fight wasn’t even that serious, it’s just neither of you know where to start.

Throughout your friendship there’s only been a few fights, none of them being at all important, dumb stuff like you never gave each others clothes back or broke a toy. Never something like this, something that actually had meaning.

You don’t even understand why it bothers Ellie so much that you’re dating Alex, she’s your best friend, if anything she should support it, you would support her? As of now though you’re trying to do everything in your power to completely ignore the fact you guys even had a fight, as long as she doesn’t talk to you and you don’t talk to her it’s fine! Right…?

That’s at least how you thought about it, avoiding it seemed like the best situation at the end of the day because you never had to confront the problem, you did that a lot. When you were 7 and broke a glass cup, the way you solved it was hiding it in between the tiny opening between your counter and oven. Which actually ending up working..till your brother found it and immediately snitched.

Tonight though there was a perfect distraction, there was a party and half the school was going to be there, I mean it was a safe assumption saying Ellie wasn’t going to be. She hated parties, she said “It’s like a bunch of toddlers in a room, not really anything fun about that?” Which wasn’t completely false but she rarely let loose and actually drank.

Tonight’s plan was to get blackout drunk, forget Ellie, forget school, just forget everything as of now, and just hang out with the guy you loved..?

Because you love Alex how could you not?? He plays football, is popular, has a bunch of friends, treats you nice! You would be insane not to like him!! So why does everything with him feel so stale and forced? Shit now you’re thinking to much about this, Ellie is just getting in your head.

So when it was 11pm and your boyfriend Alex picked you up you made sure to make him the only thing on your mind, hanging around him, being touchy, anything to convince you that you love him. “Baby can you get me a drink” He ask smiling kissing your cheek “Yeah of course” You smile walking over to the kitchen grabbing a red solo cup filling it up with punch when as you look up, there she in. Ellie..

“Real gentleman you picked out.” Ellie says sarcastically drinking out of her red solo cup clearly tipsy if not drunk. “What..” You sigh looking up at her.. “I said real gentlemen. I mean because he’s grabbing your drinks and all!” She smiles looking at you right in the eyes.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly care so much Ellie.” You say annoyed looking at her. “I don’t care I just know you could do better..” She shrugs looking at her red solo cup the confidence disappearing after that sentence. “Who’s the magical person who’s better for me then Ellie?” You look up at her

Ellie sorta shrugs. She wants to say her but she rather skip on border school because her stupid crush on you, if her parents found out Ellie would be kicked out in a matter of seconds. “I don’t know, just someone better” you just slowly nod as Ellie finishes her sentence “Thanks for that great speech Ellie.” Ellie grabs you arm as you try and leave. “When did you start settling for low?” Ellie ask looking at you “Fuck you” You push her.

Ellie pushes you back “You’ve changed” You quickly shoot back “You act like you fucking like me!” you say probably to loud “You seem like a dyke Ellie.” You don’t even know why you said that!..well you sorta do. It was to cover your own ass, it was better to say that then “I think i’m in love with you Ellie”. Ellie almost immediately steps back and walks out which prompted you to follow “Ellie I didn’t fucking- fuck.” You can’t even finish your sentence before she’s gone, at this point you’re almost sure you just fully screwed up your whole friendship.

(Sunday 3:47am)

You can’t fall asleep knowing you called Ellie that, it was a heat of the moment and you didn’t even fucking mean it, it felt so much easier then admitting you think you love her? What if she didn’t feel the same when, then the whole school knows you like girls and next thing you know your parents find out and you’re getting sent to a border school to be “corrected”! Fuck, fuck, fuck. You get out of your bed throwing on a t shirt and sweatpants, what are you even doing??

You quickly sneak out your window and start running to Ellie’s house which is about a 7 minute normal walk. As you run up you notice that Ellie’s bedroom light is on, so sneakily climb up onto the roof, you used to do that a lot during summer after your mom would say no to a sleepover but once you climb up Ellie’s window you lightly knock on it.

After about a minute and a half she opens the window and sees it’s you almost immediately shutting it. Before Ellie can shut it though she puts her palm on the window. “Ellie can we talk” You ask genuinely nervous she might say no.. “No, i’m studying?” Ellie completely lies but she just needs a shitty excuse “Ellie it’s Sunday can I just come in. Please.” At this point it’s like your begging and Ellie eventually opens the window fully. You step in looking at her “I’m so sorry” you say almost immediately “Mhm” Ellie replies, she doesn’t wanna here stupid ass sorry’s

“Ellie” You say looking at her.

And as soon as Ellie looks up you lean forward and kiss her. Ellie moves her hands on your face and you do the same..

But that moment is cut almost immediately right after when Ellie’s father walks in..

A/N -> I hope this is okay for my first post!! I’ve been reading on tumblr for about a month now and I thought making something could be interesting. I might make a part 2 depending on if I feel like it considering this story ends on a cliff hanger 😭

[nonasuch]

so I went to New York this weekend!

I tagged along with some friends who were going to the Five Points Toy Festival in Brooklyn, and convinced them to come see Sleep No More with me on Thursday night, since it’s allegedly closing at some point and I’ve always wanted to go.

And since they had to head back to DC a day before me, I decided to get another ticket for the Sunday matinee on my own.

Unfortunately my cards were a 6 and a 7, so I missed a few things right at the beginning, but I’m still really happy with my experience. My first show I spent a bunch of time following the Tailor, which I really enjoyed — he had a duet with the Taxidermist in his shop where they played tug-of-war with his measuring tape, and another with the speakeasy bartender. I saw Hecate eat her dinner and sing “Is That All There Is” in the 4th floor bar, and the Porter try to save Lady Macduff from the poisoned milk and then do an amazing dance in the bag check room. Plus a bunch more small lovely moments that I caught in passing as I explored.

My second show I had my bearings a little bit more. I got to chat with “Benji” (who I now know was actually Will Boyajian!) in the Manderly before my card was called, which was really fun!

Before this trip, I did do some advance reading, so I’d have a general sense of what to expect and wouldn’t be totally lost. This also gave me an idea for a little art project: I made a set of papier-mâché eggs (using a trashed copy of Macbeth for the paper) with thematically appropriate prizes inside, sealed with a wax seal and a red ribbon you could pull to open them. Basically fancier versions of the mystery eggs I have at the shop. I made eight, because that was all I could fit in my dress pockets. The prizes were:

a glass jar of vintage mother-of-pearl buttons

a glass vial with a dried flower inside, sealed with wax

another sealed vial with a fossil shark’s tooth

a tiny bell jar with mini (fake) butterflies on pins

a brooch made from a vintage medal ribbon and vintage keys

a tiny glass bird

a little bag of vintage game pieces

a wooden acorn with more tiny treasures inside it

I ended up giving “Benji” the shark tooth egg, which turned out to be perfect because he said he collects shark teeth! The others I saved until I got inside; I wanted to be careful about making sure I could give them out without interrupting anything.

I was super lucky to have some time entirely alone with the Tailor while he sewed up the Taxidermist’s coat, so I just set his egg (the buttons) on the corner of his desk and stepped back, and he tucked it into his jacket pocket when he was done.

I watched the Taxidermist make his bone sculpture assemblage and then smash it in frustration, so I hid an egg under one of the skulls after he left. I did get to see him find it when he came back. Same with Hecate, when I left an egg under her fan on her table at the wrecked bar.

The speakeasy bartender invited me to play a card game with him. I lost, but I gave him an egg as a thank-you.

I watched the Porter make a paper boat and blow it off the edge of the counter towards me. I caught it, and tried to give it back with his egg. He took the egg, but gave me back the boat. And I caught the witch in the green dress in a quiet moment in the lobby, and handed her an egg across the counter.

I realized I’d accidentally given the Taxidermist the wrong egg, but I managed to catch him at the last possible second, before he disappeared after the walkouts, gave him the right one, and told him I’d given him Malcolm’s egg by mistake. (Some of them were labeled, but the lighting is so low and my labels were tiny).

Aside from my self-imposed side quest, I got to see a bunch of scenes I’d missed last time. I caught the rave, I followed Agnes for a while, I saw a lovely waltz between Duncan and Mrs. Danvers in the ballroom. I kind of forgot the fifth floor existed, oops.

Afterwards, I was totally exhausted and must have looked it, because someone let me into the reserved section so I could sit until the crowd thinned out and I felt a little less wiped. I have some really cool souvenirs — my mask, and the paper boat, and I bought a poster too.

If they extend it into the fall, I’ll totally go again.

[annie-creates]

Finally home

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1400

Note: So this is my 30th fic and it's also the first day of spring so I wanted to put out this little thing that's been living in my head rent free lately. It is far from the fandoms I normally write for but here we are. I'm warning you the events of the game are kinda swithed around to fit the story. I hope you'll like it anyway.

Life hasn’t been easy on you. From the moment your mother sent you to a Firefly base when you were still just a child, you had to fight and fend for yourself. Earning everything you had, contributing to be fed, helping to have a place to sleep, growing up has been tough. And still you could thank heavens you were placed with the Fireflies who protected you and took care of you in the apocalypse. You imagined the worst thing that could happen to someone was to be left alone. You had friends amongst the other children, adults who brought you up, and Abby.

Abby was never too close nor too far from you, having closer friends but always keeping an eye out for you. You were inseparable back in the Salt Lake City, and even when your group disbanded, you followed her anywhere she wanted to go, your next refuge being the WLFs. You never questioned her, never doubted her decisions. Not until she killed Joel Miller. You understood, Abby’s dad being the closest thing you had to your own, but even after she leveled the score, the hunger for revenge didn’t settle. The more ruthless she became the more you drifted apart.

All the tension or fondness was lost in the days and weeks she spent away hunting down members of Ellie’s group. If you were once friends, now you were hardly two people who used to know each other. Yet you never lost your hope in her, believing she’ll come to her senses and actually live her life focused on herself and not the blood of others. The rumors of Fireflies regrouping gave you hope. You’d finally find a home again together.

“Abby please, fuck this WLF shit and let’s just go back.” You reasoned with her, when you met by luck after another few months not hearing from each other.

“I still have shit to do here.” She argued unwavering in her stance.

“Like what? We both know Isaac’s plan is trash.” You furrowed your brows at her.

“Just because you’re not at the top of the game doesn’t mean everyone else is dumber than you Y/n.” She scoffed at you.

“Excuse me, I don’t give a shit what ranking he gave to anyone!” You folded you hands over your chest.

“Yeah yeah, just because you’re low. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t like being a commander.” She taunts you.

“Now you’re just being mean. You know I don’t give a fuck about that.” You weren’t going to let her off that easily this time.

“You’re just jealous. Go run back to the Fireflies where you’re cared for like the lost puppy you are and leave the real job to the big girls.” She levels you with a look of cruelty and disdain.

“Fine. But don’t run back to me when you get lost again.” Shaking your head you leave to pack your backpack so you can have a head start for when the WLF finds out you’re a traitor.

You didn’t give a shit anymore for any one of them, you didn’t want to join any petty fights for territory of supplies. You wanted to live as close to a normal person as anyone could and maybe, just maybe try and help save the world somehow, or make it just a little bit better. You couldn’t do that at the WLF, but with the Fireflies you could at least try. They weren’t saints, but in comparison to the WLF and Seraphites they were your safest option. Maybe it was finally time to let Abby go her way after the countless times you tried to save her from the fate she was choosing for herself.

As you’re packing to leave, you hear Abby in an argument with Mel. You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. “You’re a piece of shit, Abby.” Is all you can make out before Mel slams the door and you leave in fear of being discovered watching their moment. You didn’t agree, but you couldn’t argue against it either. The more time passed on the more questionable choices Abby was making. The last thing you wanted to do was abandon Abby, yet that’s what she was continuously forcing you to do. Maybe you needed to listen to your own advice and start focusing on your own life instead of others.

While she runs off to do god knows what with god knows who, you travel to the Catalina Island alone. It was a loose thread, but it was still a better shot than nothing. Plus it wasn’t like you could turn back and crawl back to the WLF begging for their forgiveness, if there even was any WLF anymore. And to your luck, the Fireflies excitedly accept you back, happy to regain one of Anderson’s medical students you used to be back in Salt Lake City before your mission to save the population and find a cure went to trash. For months you watched out for any rumors of tracks of Abby but all the leads run cold. The group couldn’t contact her even when she made a contact with them some time after you joined, promising to arrive in a few days. But few days turned into months and Abby Anderson was considered lost and dead, even though no one talked about it or mentioned it.

Until you found her. She and one of the new boys she met, Lev, in a boat arrived at the island in a pitiful state of barely living. Being part of the medical team now, you treated their injuries and took care of nursing them back to health. While you left Lev to be watched over by the team, you couldn’t stand leaving Abby in such cold and unwelcoming place unknown to her. So you took her to rest in your own apartment not too far away, laying her down on your washed out pillows but in warm sheets and clean duvets none the less.

“Y/n.” She states with a horse voice she clearly hasn’t used for some time.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you now.” You assure her cleaning her bleeding wounds.

As she falls back into her delirious dreams you treat her injuries dressing them up in a clean white gauze, finding many new cuts and bruises, some of which you could hardly imagine what caused them. Even her face was littered with wounds deep enough to leave a nasty scar. She lost a noticeable amount of muscle and her once toned arms seemed weaker now cover in blood. Her dirty blonde hair you often braided for her were messily cut off too short and covered in layers of dirt and soil.

“Hey, you need to drink something.” You carefully wake her up to get her started back on some fluids as soon as possible.

“Hmh...” She clearly wanted to say something but she hardly had the energy to even stay conscious.

“Don’t, it’s gonna be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” You pacify her after you half force some water into her.

“Don’t leave!” She catches your arm weakly with the most scared and vulnerable look you’ve ever seen on her.

“I won’t.” you assure her as you lay down in bed next to her, careful not to touch any of her wounds to not cause her any more discomfort or pain.

“Just hold me.” Abby pleads with you, but she didn’t have to ask you twice.

“I’ve got you. You’ll be okay.” You comfort her as you stroke her short hair and hold her shivering shoulders. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Abby whines halfway unconscious again.

“Don’t be. You’re home. You are cared for.” You whisper to her as you rock her weakened body back to sleep.

You give her a little kiss into the crown of her hair. She was still the most beautiful and precious thing to you, no matter her crimes and punishments. It will grow back eventually. Her injuries will heal, and all of this will become just a faded memory over time. You’ll help her fight off any scarecrows and demons of her past, in her dreams and in the reality. She was finally back, and you won’t ever let her leave again. You both already lost too much in your hunt for revenge and justice. You finally found your home.

[marvelousbuckley]

Pardon my french!

BuckTommy Positivity Week 2024 - day one

I know i'm late to the party but @searching-for-the-moon gave me a great idea so here we are. You can learn more about this challenge through @bucktommypositivityweek's blog!

Prompt: what they love most about each other

You can read it on AO3 or down below. Every fic will be posted on AO3 as chapters of the same fic!

-----

“Okay, I’m impressed now. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Tommy looks at Evan who is wearing the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, a happy grin of his own gently warming up his face as they leave the gallery where they spent two hours learning pottery. In the bag Evan is carrying lays a strange attempt of a mug, base not quite flat and edges all wrong and messy. The mug is yellow, painted with care and patience. Which weren’t enough to ensure a great result. Against the mug, two bowls are wrapped in newspaper sheets. They are bright blue with white flowers, both perfect shapes, both delicately painted. Both the work of a Tommy who cannot stop smiling while his boyfriend continues to compliment him. It is endearing, the way Evan talks and talks and talk, always eager to let Tommy knows how much he’s impressed by anything new he learns about him.

“I swear Evan, it was the first time I did pottery.”

“Not the first time you painted though, so it’s almost like you cheated.” The blond can’t stop his smile from widening again, and his free hand quickly finds itself in Tommy’s one. They walk together like that for a while, heading to Evan’s loft just four blocks away from the gallery where the class was happening.

“It is so infuriating, you are always good at everything you try, how is that possible?” He continues, not paying attention to the world around him, and Tommy has to pull him fast by the hand before Evan bumps into a trash can. The movement coax Evan in Tommy’s direction, and soon enough the two men are against each other, chests touching and the older man’s arms around Evan’s waist, a gesture his body cannot stop doing when his boyfriend is close enough. It does nothing but push another bright smile on Evan’s face and Tommy must kiss him about it.

He knows his boyfriend clumsiness and unawareness of what surrounds him should bug him, but he can’t stop thinking it makes the other man even more adorable, if it is humanly possible. Evan is living in a world of his own, and for six months now he’s been okay with letting Tommy be a part of it.

Tommy loves him for that. He loves him for pretty much everything Evan does or says.

“I’m not good at everything!” He interjects, a laugh on his voice when they start walking again and Evan gives him a deadpan look, almost bumping into another human being.

“Shut up, I’m sure you can do crazy things. Like, I don’t know, French braid! Or macarons, which is so fucking hard to do right, by the way. Hell, I am sure you know how to speak French while we’re at it!"

Evan had started hyperfixating on everything French related since the opening of the Paris Olympics. “They had a dancing croissant; can you believe it? And the torchbearer? I’ve never seen somebody this hot, except you of course. If I hadn’t discovered my bisexuality with you, this person would have done the trick just fine.”

He then proceeded to explain to Tommy what the French torchbearer had been about, some reference to video games as well as opera. “Did you know Assassin’s Creed was French? And so are the Minions! And The Daft Punk! Even the helicopter was invented by the French!”

So, Evan talking about macarons and French braid isn’t that weird.

The thing is, Tommy’s answer is a surprise so unexpected that Evan’s jaw drop when his boyfriend respond. “Oh no, you don’t want me near long haired heads, and I’m not really good at macarons, I’m more of a waffle guy anyway. French though-”

Evan stops him before he can say anything else.

“Thomas Kinard, do not tell me you know how to speak French.”

Tommy’s amused face must be a good enough answer because Evan’s stops right here, in the middle of the sidewalk, starstruck. “Do you speak French?”

« Un petit peu, je ne me suis pas entrainé depuis longtemps. »

Evan does not know what it means, he doesn’t even know if Tommy said it right or if he just invented words to play with him. But it doesn't matter anyway, he’s too flabbergasted to care.

“What. The. Fuck.” He manages to say after way to long of a pause, proof that his brain just stopped working. It makes Tommy giggle, and the pilot brings his boyfriend hand to his lips and places a kiss on each one of his fingers.

“Tout va bien ?” He then asks, knowing full well what the words cause in Evan’s head.

Chaos, pure unexpected, hot as fuck chaos.

“What. Why. How. What. Fuck, how?” The younger man is clearly losing it and Tommy knows there is only one way to soothe his lover’s brain. So he takes a step forward, Evan’s free hand still in his, his other hand cupping Evan’s face, and proceed to kiss his boyfriend slowly, almost lazy, a hint of defiance in every one of his movements. Usually Evan melts on the touch, but this time he finds the strength to back-up, well, not before he moans in Tommy’s lips and kiss him back anyway.

“I’ll still need answers Kinard.”

“Let’s go home first, and then maybe I’ll give you some.” Tommy replies, a knowing smile on his face, pupils darkening with the promise of giving.

-----

“So, how?”

They both lay in Evan’s bed, sweaty and sore and happy. The bag with their dishes inside has been abandoned on the diner table, and their clothes have been thrown in every part of the loft without any care.

Tommy thinks about his answer for a moment, before he turns his head toward Evan, looking at him with a mix of tenderness and guilt. “I… I dated a guy. It was a long time ago, but the words stayed.” It is all he his able to say before he looks away, worried that Evan might get jealous, or sad, or something. Instead, Evan puts his hand on Tommy’s chest, playing with the hairy skin, and looks at him with fondness.

“You know, you don’t have to be ashamed of your past Tommy. I have exes too.” He says, trying to comfort the older man, a bright smile even in his voice. His tone is reassuring, and Tommy finally looks back at him with a sheepish glance.

“I know, it’s just… It has always been a thing with my other exes, you know? French is romantic, French is the language of love and, well, a lot of the men I dated weren’t happy that I had learned it for someone else you know?”

Evan nods, still admiring his boyfriend, caressing his perfect body.

“Is it why you hadn’t told me about it yet?” Tommy hums and Evan drops a kiss on his cheek, a touch so intimate the pilot still can’t quite believe he deserves it. “Well, I’m not jealous, and I’m not angry. I love that you give one hundred percent when you love someone, and that you are capable of learning a whole language just for them.” He smiles again, shifting his body so he’s almost completely on top of Tommy. “And it would be really stupid of me to be mad because you can speak French to me. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I love it! I love you Tommy, and every moment that made you you. The good and the bad.” Tommy smiles disappear when Evan come and kiss him, a deep, heated kiss. In his lips Tommy swears he can taste love. “But what I love most is that I’m getting used to all those little things I learn about you. I want to be used to everything about you for ever.”

“Sounds good to me.”

-----

translation: 

- A little bit, i've not trained for a long time.

- Is everything okay?

[ladylaviniya]

AVATAR: THE NEW MISSION

|| Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: From a sweet little game to a total nightmare, you will do whatever it will take to protect the children, even face monsters.

Pairing: Recom!Miles Quaritch X Na'vi Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, Colonisation, Weapons, Death Threats, Coercive Control.

Author Notes: Hi everyone! Life has been crazy but I finally got around to rewriting/editing The New Mission. I will post a new chapter once a week every Tuesday @ 3pm AEST

Inspiring Song: "Cosmic Love" By Florence & The Machine.

As Miles slowly opened his eyes, he was immediately met with a strange feeling of displacement. The bed beneath him felt unfamiliar, and as he sat up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored window panel across the room. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of his own reflection – the now distinctly blue skin and unfamiliar features staring back at him were both fascinating and disconcerting. For a moment, he had to remind himself that this was not a nightmare, but reality.

Waking up in a different body is always difficult. Well that’s what people with a second chance can say. Miles felt this was a curse at first. He hated how every time to passed a window panel the reflection of blue skin made him want to shoot it.

He hated how he had to crouch under door ways to get into the next room. Most of all he hated the way he was stared at. He thought back on his former human form, when people looked upon him with respect because of his rank and the battle-earned scar that marked his resilience. But now, it was different – people didn’t admire him for his achievements; instead, they gawked at him like some sort of aberration, a living testament to their ungodly science. Miles sat and pondered briefly...had the human race gone too far.

It came and went out of his mind just as quickly, consumed by the bitterness of why and how he came to be in this clone flesh suit he hated.

Confronting Jake Sully proved to be a rushed decision on Miles’s part, as his months spent with Spider had done little to equip him with ample knowledge about Pandora. He was, in essence, a greenhorn in this alien world, and the enormity of his possible failure dawned upon him with stark clarity. Miles was aware that his performance would have far-reaching consequences, not just for himself, but for his standing within the RDA.

The ride back on his Ikran was an ordeal, especially after the grueling battle fought on the fringes of Awa’atlu. He had nearly slid off the creature’s back twice due to his battered state. Arriving back at base, Miles was consumed by a mix of shame and anger, and he was promptly escorted to the medical tent to rest and heal. Weeks passed as he recuperated, until the shrill voice of the General invaded his solitude, a sound that brought a wave of uneasiness to him.

The General, standing on a stool to address the hospitalized Colonel, spoke with a chilling tone, her words sharp as a blade. “I granted you the opportunity to seek revenge, Colonel,” she began, her hand lightly resting on the bedside railing, “yet you have disappointed me. Your mission was straightforward – hunt and execute Jake Sully for his alleged crimes of terrorism and treason. But from what your team has revealed, your pursuit was anything but focused. Instead, you chose to chase after his children, wasting time and resources. Simply putting it Colonel, you fucked around.”

He longed to lash out, to tell her where she could shove her condescending attitude in a place where ‘The sun don’t shine.’. After all, here he was, nursing a broken rib, a split lip, a chipped tooth, a concussion, and a near-drowning experience, and she had the audacity to come down to the infirmary and give him an earful? It was clear as day that they needed him, yet now they were treating him like yesterday’s trash.

“General,” he began, forcing a strained smile even as he slowly sat up, disregarding the protests of the monitors and wires attached to his body. “If I may explain, my choice to pursue Sully’s children was a deliberate tactic. I intended to use them as hostages, to entice him out of hiding.” With a purposeful motion, he pinched off the heart monitor and swiftly removed the remaining cords that tracked his health. The machines worried and beeped loudly, attracting the attention of doctors and nurses. He rose to his feet slowly and bent at his hips to look down at her.

The General instinctively took a step back, taken aback by the imposing figure of the Colonel standing before her. Despite his injuries, his height and stature were intimidating, and she instinctively swallowed, her composure faltering momentarily. “Colonel,” she continued, her tone measured, “I regret to say that this incident has demonstrated a lack of confidence in your ability to carry out the mission effectively.”

Quaritch’s brows furrowed, his anger mounting within him, causing him to clench his teeth in frustration. But instead of lashing out, he nodded with resignation, his acceptance of her words thinly veiled. He would not succumb to the savage hissing urge building up in his throat.

The General let out a weary sigh, her gaze fixed on him. “I can’t afford to jeopardize more lives for your failings,” she stated firmly. “Consider yourself lucky that I haven’t demoted you or worse, discharged you from service.”

Quaritch’s eyes widened and his ears flattened in surprise at her words. He couldn’t help but retort sarcastically, “Discharging me, eh? Wouldn’t be much point in sending me back to Earth though, would there? Might as well stick me in the kitchens. Blue Shrimp! Order up!” he flashed his smiling canines down at her, they were gritting tightly. It took the power of whatever he called a god to not throttle the bitch.

The General’s nostrils flared, and she slammed her hands on the bed rail, her voice sharp. “One more smart remark from you, Colonel, and I’ll throw you out of this camp without a second thought.” Quaritch rolled his eyes in response, his patience wearing thin. Without another word, he stormed out of the medical room, clad in his scrub dress, determined to leave the infirmary behind.

Quaritch heard the General’s command echoing in his wake, “You haven’t been dismissed, Colonel!” He paused, the weight of her words and the eyes on him forcing him to consider her directive. But did he really care? No. Yet he remembered the gazes of the nurses, other patients, and the armed men standing guard – their stares burning into him, reminding him that he was nothing more than a freak, a monster, a clone of some nightmarish alien creation. What respect did he have left coming from them?

Quaritch whirled around, crouching down to meet the General’s eye level. He forced a smirk, and in a mocking tone, he inquired, “May I be dismissed, General?”

The General returned his smile with a sly one of her own, “No,” she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re going to hear to your newest mission.”

Quaritch’s breath caught in his throat at her words. “New mission?” he echoed, his voice betraying a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. He truly thought he was done for with the walls caving in. He was being given a chance, again. This one he didn’t want to fuck up.

    Sitting comfortably on the plush grass, you listened intently to the sound of muffled giggles emanating from the trees above. Your little brother Häewip and his best friend Rìngeay were engaged in a playful game of stalk-and-catch, but it was abundantly clear that they were dreadful at it. Their giggles echoed through the foliage, their hiding spots easily detectable.

You chuckled, recalling fond memories from your childhood. This game was a favourite pastime, meant to teach youngsters the art of stealth, concealment, and stalking their quarry. Young Häewip and Rìngeay had pleaded to be the ones to hide while you took on the role of the hunter, and you always obliged, knowing that they cherished these moments together.

Ah, the memories brought a smirk to your face. You never lost this game, even as a child, always skilfully evading detection whenever it was your turn to hide. And when you were the one doing the seeking, your younger siblings and friends could never find you. After hours of playtime and gathering fruits and meat for the village, you decided to play one final game before returning home.

Finding Rìngeay was easy; her red tail guard stood out against the yellow petals of the tsyorina’wll flowers, giving away her position.

Dropping silently into the soft moss and grass, you crouched, your smile widening. The sound of their giggles meant they could still catch glimpses of you, but you knew you had to hide and stalk even more covertly. With quiet precision, you reached for the riata tied to your thigh, navigating silently through the foliage and vines. Every step was calculated, ensuring not a sound escaped your presence.

With a swift, feline-like motion, you moved around the base of a sturdy tree, adhering to its bark and beginning your ascent up its sturdy trunk. Unseen from the children’s view, you continued climbing, your slender frame blending seamlessly with the foliage. As you ascended higher, you keenly overheard their heated debate – arguing whether you were concealed behind the surrounding tsyorina’wlls or the paywlls nearby.

Unseen, you surpassed them, nimbly ducking to avoid their flicking tails as you continued your climb. As you ascended higher and higher, you finally positioned yourself just above the pair, ensuring they remained oblivious to your position. A swift flick of your wrist and a deft swing sent the lasso loop hurtling towards them, ensnaring them firmly in the air. Their screams of shock echoed through the clearing, only to be overshadowed by your joyful cackles and laughter.

“Taronyut yom smarìl! Hehehe!” The prey eats the hunter; everything possible that can go wrong does! Hehehe!

Your fingers dug and danced over their sensitive skin making them shriek with laughter.

Rìngeay cried with laughter as she was attacked with tickles while she was still bound in the tether, “Ftang! [Y/N]! Ftang!” Stop! [Y/N]! Stop! Laughing tears filled in her eyes.

You turned to smother kisses and tiny bites over Häewip little arms and cheek. He too begged for mercy with a smile before you spat out the tip of his pointed ears with a “Ftxìvä’” Yuck!

Their playful attempts to resist your victorious gloating were thwarted as they promptly wriggled out of their bindings and tackled you with a barrage of affectionate hugs. Laughter rang through the forest air, filling the space with joyful abandon. The three of you took a moment to catch your breaths before settling back against the sturdy branches of the tree. The game had been a much-needed respite, a temporary diversion from the anxieties waiting back at home.

The gentle warmth of the breeze enveloped you, its caress a soothing touch against your skin. The sweat trickling down your forehead spoke of an impending rain, as the humidity had slowly been building throughout the past several days, culminating in this humid day. The soil beneath you felt parched, yearning for a refreshing drink. The feeling was strangely familiar – you sympathized with the great mother, feeling just as exhausted and longing for a fresh change in your life, yet uncertain about the path you were expected to tread.

“Tsmuke?” Sister? Häewip suddenly asked.

“Sran?” Yes?

With a pleading look in his big, yellow eyes, he asked, “Fta si tswin rutxe oeyä?” Please retie my queue braid? A fond smile tugged at your lips, for this was a familiar routine. Despite growing older, he still sought your help, asserting that you could tie it just right – not too tight, yet not loose enough for it to come undone easily.

You let out a soft sigh, gesturing to the space between your legs. “Za’u,” Come, you instructed, signaling where he should settle.

Rìngeay swiftly crawled over, joining her friend, both eager for you to tighten their braids. As she waited her turn, she took the initiative and utilized your lasso to hoist the sack of freshly hunted meat up towards you all. She knew all too well the importance of safeguarding the fruits of your labor, ensuring no lurking animals could snatch them away. After all, hunting effectively with only a knife was no easy feat. Your mother had strictly forbidden you to use a bow for hunting, and her word was law.

‘Häewip is getting taller everyday now,’ you thought to yourself as you realised where he head sat and how high you had to lift your arms now to carefully braid his long black mane around his queue.

It had been only nine wet seasons ago that you sat beside the birth of your brother. Your mother’s weeping and her joy at a son. The joy your father had, picking you up on his shoulders so you could have a better look at the wet ball that was of newborn Häewip. You wondered how you must’ve looked twenty wet seasons ago. Perhaps just the same.

Häewip was growing more confident and ambitious, dreaming of becoming a warrior just like your cousin, Rawm. You silently hoped that he would never emulate Rawm’s recklessness and ride out into a storm, only to be struck by lightning. Fortunately, the chances of that happening seemed slight, as more often than not, Häewip was practically attached at the hip to Rìngeay, his unwavering companion. Although they were the same age, Rìngeay seemed to consistently adhere to the village curfew, unlike your more daring brother. When you inquired about her dreams, she would blush and shyly admit her ambition to being that of the wife to a great warrior. You wondered if it was her own little heart that held the nobility of a warrior instead.

Finishing the last strand in Rìngeay’s hair you suggested to the two younger na’vi, “Pxoe kelku kivä ko,” Let’s All Go home.

And they agreed. The distance was far and if they didn’t get home before the sun hid beneath the mountains it would be your head.

You reckoned somehow it would not matter anyway because today you had been disobedient...

You were supposed to be diligently gathering utumauti and pixayzekwä berries, preparing to simmer them into a hot boil to create a wine for your impending marriage ceremony to Pukxaw – a warrior Na’vi of another tribe.

The thought of your mother’s furious reaction upon your return to Greenhome filled you with dread. Her wrath would be intense, and your ears would undoubtedly be in danger once you faced her.

As you traversed the familiar path back home, your younger companions sprinted ahead, effortlessly leaping over logs and foliage. A warm smile tugged at your lips, as you silently hoped that the great mother would bless your future with children as exuberantly happy as them. However, your thoughts briefly strayed to your intended mate, Pukxaw. You secretly wished for a spouse far better than him.

Pukxaw was a warrior Na’vi from the Anurai clan. He was tall, thin and nearing his elder years, and his personality matched his appearance – he was a dull and stoic Na’vi with little patience. He enjoyed hunting, but your scholarly vows restricted you from using a bow, this seemed to irk him when you meet him at the last clan gathering. To your surprise, once the decision was made for your clans’ mating agreement, you found yourself utterly shocked at the prospect of being bonded with such a bland and unappealing individual.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Ewya, the great mother herself, would have bestowed upon you a mate who possessed patience and the ability to communicate effectively. You longed for a mate who possessed a genuine sense of humour and one who could provide the comfort of a warm embrace when needed. Someone who, above all else, would graciously listen to your thoughts about your people’s rich history. The prospect of being eternally bound to a reserved and disrespectful mate who solely provided you with skins for your labor seemed utterly unappealing.

Glancing over at the grazing Yerik, you immediately noticed a shift in their behavior. They had halted their movements, their eyes fixated in a particular direction. As a show of respect, you lowered your head, but to your growing concern, they continued their unwavering stare. Something felt amiss in the air – the wind turned chilly, and an eerie silence enveloped the surroundings. Your eyes widened as you wondered, ‘Why is it so quiet? Where are the children?’

Panicked, you frantically scanned your surroundings, but your brother and Rìngeay were nowhere to be seen.

“Tsmuke! Srungsi!” Sister help! You heard Häewip scream in the distance. Your heart sank like a stone, and a wave of dread washed over you. They were in danger!

Dropping the sack of meat you sprinted ahead and screamed back, “Tsmukan!” Brother!

You strained your ears intently, hoping for a response, but all you heard were the terrified cries of the two young ones.

With the riata clenched tightly in one hand and the dagger in the other, you prepared yourself for whatever might await you. Realizing you would have to engage the threat at close range, you cautiously advanced towards the source of the whimpering and crying.

As you got closer, the voices grew louder, and a wave of worry washed over you. Regret stirred within you for taking them so far away from safety.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Standing before you was a group of individuals unlike any you had ever seen before – no, they were not Na’vi. These were aliens from the stars, the dreaded Uniltìrantokx. Their unusual attire and strange, indecipherable speech sent a chill through your body.

Your heart squeezed tightly as you remembered the dark days of the war, the great battle – a tragic period that had befallen on Pandora fifteen wet seasons ago. The horrors and terror of that day still lingered, leaving emotional scars upon your soul.

Your heart sank further at the excited sound of a female Uniltìrantokx’ voice through the air. “Colonel, look at what we just found, two little blue rats!”

A surge of protectiveness flared within you, watching Häewip bravely threaten the aliens with dire consequences if they harmed “his” Rìngeay. However, his brave act earned him a sharp slap in the face from another Uniltìrantokx. Indignantly, your lip curled in anger at the sight, and a fierce determination surged through you as you plotted to make the offending alien pay for laying a hand on your loved ones.

Your nimble fingers hovered anxiously over the dagger’s hilt, contemplating your next actions. This was unprecedented; you had never confronted such a large number of foes before. Truthfully, fear and uncertainty gnawed at your thoughts, leaving you questioning your ability to overpower them all.

Retreating to Greenhome for help was not an option; the distance would be too great to cover in time. You would have to rely on your own skills and bravery to free your loved ones, and hope that a hasty escape would be possible. The plan was risky, but it was all you had at the moment.

The Uniltìrantokx held sinister-looking tools in their grasp – their dreaded guns. Memories of Toruk Makto, the legendary leader of the Omatikaya, sending these fearsome creatures away flickered through your mind. Rumors had circulated about their potential return to Pandora, yet you had always dismissed them as mere tales to frighten the children before bedtime.

The individual known as the Colonel responded in a dismissive tone, “Just our luck, Walker,” as he swatted away a bug that had landed on his shoulder. He surveyed the surroundings once more, his hand touching his neck, and spoke into a communication device, “Blue Bird, come in. We have what we need. Bring the chopper over here, pronto!”

His eyes scanned the trees and bushes and then he saw it…a whisp of blue. He smirked, he wasn’t surprised these kids would be all alone and so far from their village. This was exactly what he needed… an adult. He saw your numb expression in the bushes, devising an attack. His gaze met yours, and a sinister smile played upon his lips as he aimed his gun directly at you.

“Well hello, hello- Now, why don’t you come out and join us, friend?!” He spat and licked his canines chuckling, “we ain’t gonna hurt ya!”

Your grip on your knife tightened as you cautiously rose from the brush, your heart pounding in your chest. The Colonel gestured toward you, beckoning you closer, his weapon still pointing in your direction. You inched toward the group, and he observed your eyes nervously flicker between all five of the Recom. His smile turned predatory as he noticed your trembling hands and strained tail. He perceived you as an easy target, assuming your fear would render you vulnerable and helpless.

With a calm yet firm voice, you called out, “Lonu fo,” Release them.

Your footsteps moved cautiously around the group, your knife held firmly in your grasp. The Recom knew that your weapon was no match against their bullets. He had already devised plans for you, viewing you as a perfect addition to their plans in store

“Mefo eveng,” they are children, you pleaded, attempting to negotiate with the Colonel. Your body language – the tilting of your head and shrinking of your stance – was a clear sign of your surrender and willingness to cooperate. You desperately hoped that it would evoke a sense of mercy within these creatures, these pretenders.

The Colonel quickly realized that you were relinquishing control, and he noted your worried glances toward the rowdy boy and whimpering girl. He couldn’t help but speculate about you ‘Is she the mother of these two kids?’

 Rìngeay shouted out your name.

“Shut it!” the Uniltìrantokx who was holding her to her knees yelled causing the poor girl to start sobbing in fear.

The Colonel was not surprised seeing how your nostril flared and teeth bared like a wild cat.

He scowled, “Nga kem si ìnglìsì tslam?” Do you understand English?

Your breath came hard and fast, betraying your fear. He advanced toward you, his gun still aimed in your direction, but it was now resting on his hip, rather than held at the ready. He casually scrutinized you from head to toe, his eyes taking in every detail.

“Well?” He drawled.

Your gaze flickered between the children and the Colonel, your heart pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath before uttering, “Let. Them. Go.” The words tasted foreign on your tongue, your mind racing to recall the right terms in English.

A sly smile formed on the Colonel’s face as he revelled in your broken English.

“Let them go,” he mimicked, his voice dripping with condescension. He was taken aback as he felt the cold blade of your dagger pressed firmly against his skin. Clearly, you did not appreciate his attempt at humour. He stared into your eyes, which had widened with anger, and observed the way your teeth were beginning to bare intensely.

“Let them go- now,” You said fluently, “or I take all your lives.”

He admired your confidence. The sound of guns cocking surrounded you both. He huffed softly from the cold bite that came from your dagger.

“You alright boss? This bitch moves we’ll smoke her.”

The Colonel could clearly see the rage burning in your eyes. He recognized the determined glint in your gaze and knew that you were not about to back down. His own golden eyes flickered, betraying his surprise at your fierce perseverance, he grunted, “Stand down. Release the brats. We don’t need ‘em.”

The other interrogators exchanged puzzled glances, clearly unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

Meanwhile, the Colonel watched with amusement as a look of relief washed over your face when he ordered his companions to release the children.

Your voice rang out, filled with urgency, “Nìwin! Hifwo! Hum! Kä!” Quickly flee! Leave! Go!, you shrieked at the children, urging them to flee to safety.

Your eyes remained locked on the Colonel, listening as the sound of the children’s footsteps faded into the distance as they raced away. The Colonel contemplated sending some of his men after them, back to their village, but he quickly realized the suicide in doing so.

With a pained expression, he felt the sharp blade of your weapon press against his skin, causing a small knick. You hastily pulled back, a look of realization and remorse on your face. In a soft voice, you whispered, “Thankyou.”

He was now impressed by your english and knew what he had to finish today,

He smirked, “You’re a polite one aren’t ya?”

The Colonel couldn’t help but be impressed by your improved command of the English language, but he knew that there was still work to be done.

Suddenly, an Uniltìrantokx stepped up behind you and forcefully twisted your wrist, forcing you to drop your weapon. You cried out in pain as you were struck in the face with the butt of a gun, knocking you to the ground. Blood trickled from an open wound on your forehead, and you instinctively covered your injured eye.

In a swift motion, the Colonel dropped to his knees and forcefully pinned you onto your stomach, restraining your flailing body as you cried out in agony. He cruelly stepped on your tail, intensifying your pain and causing you to howl in torment. Despite your struggle, you frantically tried to claw at his arm, desperate for liberation. A sharp jab pierced your lower back just above your tail, leaving you writhing in pain.

As his grip loosened, you wasted no time in scrambling to escape. You managed to push passed the Colonel and sprinted beyond the tree line, urgently pursuing Häewip and Rìngeay.

The sound of the Colonel’s feet pounding behind you echoed through the forest, filling you with a chilling sense of fear. Your legs and tail throbbed with pain from the numerous scrapes and cuts that littered your body. All you wanted was to reach the safety of home as soon as possible.

With every nimble move, you dodged branches, ducked under hanging limbs, and scrambled across fallen logs, but his relentless pursuit continued to gain on you. Your weary legs grew increasingly numb and your back started to ache from the arduous run.

As you forced yourself to keep moving, your body felt heavier with every step. You were overwhelmed by a wave of nausea and exhaustion, your stomach feeling like it was weighed down by an invisible burden. Unable to continue any longer, you slowed to a stop, preparing to vomit, but instead, you collapsed onto your hands and knees.

With trembling limbs, you tried desperately to crawl away from the approaching footsteps of the Colonel above. Your fingers felt distant and disconnected, while your head buzzed with a dizzying sensation. You emitted a weak cry and tumbled headfirst into a patch of slippery mud.

The figure above you started to move and became a dozen shadows, his voice filled your ears, “Going somewhere sweetheart?”

Your vision grew hazy and your eyelids felt heavy, making it impossible to open them anymore. In your disoriented state, you could only hope that Häewip and Rìngeay had safely returned to the villages.

The Colonel’s lips curled into a sinister smirk as he looked down at your drugged and unconscious form. With ease, he hoisted your body over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly toward the waiting helicopter.

  To Be Continued....

★HELPLINES★

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[hermitcraft-shifter]

I have so many feelings about the Moon Crash. Like, narrative-wise, it hits me so hard, man. Joe told Cleo to leave them, yes, but the sign... It's intriguing to imagine it as a test that Cleo failed.

I mean, Joe's been there from the beginning. It's reasonable to assume that they've seen many people leave and it's reasonable to assume that there could be a insecurity (/rp) there about it. With the context that Hermitcraft is real life, Joe might be scared (at least subconsciously, no matter how irrational) that people are leaving because of them, that— despite no evidence —there're 'not enough' for people to stay... which leads to Joe being reckless and using the Moon Crash to test to see if Cleo would leave them in a clearly dangerous situation.

And they failed, not because Cleo didn't understand it was dangerous, but because Cleo trusts Joe. Cleo trusted Joe, even when they didn't want to, even when Joe really just wanted their support.

In Hermittopia, did Joe even know they could go back if things got dangerous, that Cleo exiled them— yes, because they were being a little dumb and self-destructive (because who hands out resumés to clearly dangerous people and steals a horn license without being a little self-destructive?) but also —for the bit? Like, narrative-wise, Cleo's actions could be interpreted as both a messed up joke and an urge for Joe to take some time to think.

Joe, as a character, is as kind as they are reckless, especially with their own health, and as a character, liberties can be taken with how their actions and behaviour reflect on themself in a 'Minecraft is real life' context. Yes, Hermits helping Hermits is very sweet, but when you literally live in a trash can that you even struggled to find a place for because nobody left room for you after you spent so long helping someone, only for them to thank you and leave everything behind like it was a stepping stone, after your team had been forgotten and left out of closing ceremony without a second thought until it was too late... and that whole permit thing with Doc...

I have a lot of feelings and thoughts, as you can see.

Narratively speaking, Joe gives and gives and gives— They give so much and seem content to fade into the background, be taken for granted (well, that's exaggerating, but when you're always pushing yourself to give so much, it's normal to feel bitter, even when you're the one pushing yourself to do it). It's ok to want attention, of course. Joe thrives on attention, but without proper communication, it can fall flat quickly. Humiliation can help one learn, and as a content creator, Joe knows what they signed up for. As a character? That's free game.

A decade is a long time, after all, and it's certainly enough time for miscommunication to happen. In a game, it's not so bad, but when that game is real life?

Well, that's the fun of storytelling!

[Image ID: A digital drawing of joehillssays and ZombieCleo from Hermitcraft on a white background. joehillssays' face is shown being held up and squished by ZombieCleo, and has a shell shocked expression while tears are being wiped away. ZombieCleo's face is obscured and has a distant expression. 'I trust you. I don't want your trust. I want your support.' is written in the top left corner. /.End ID]

[shadowqueenjude]

Ruhn mfing Danaan

“Keep talking, Athalar. Let’s see where it gets you.” “Sounds like a whole lot of big talk. Why don’t you put on a little demonstration for Athalar, Bryce?” “Trust me, Bryce, I’ve known for a while what he is. I had to fucking live with him.”

“He gave enough of a shit about you to want me to be your live-in guard. But you wanted Athalar to play sexy roomie.” I’m glad you called me tonight. I know things are fucked up between us, and I know a lot of that is my fault, but if you ever need me, I’m here. Anytime at all, Bryce.

“I was asking about why he’s not on the call, not whether you’re dating, but that’s good to know.”

He woke up, took his potions like a good boy, and demanded to know where you were. “I’m just checking to see if the sky’s falling, since you’re thanking me for something.” “You’re my sister. Of course I’d come to save your ass.”

“I don’t care if I’m called Prince or Starborn or the Chosen One or any of that. The only thing I want to be called right now is your brother. If you’ll have me.” “Pay up, assholes.”

I’m not the kind of male whose sense of pride is so brittle that I need to cling to a shiny weapon. If you want to use it, it’s yours. “All right. You’re a brooding hero and I’m a lazy asshole. Is that really how you want to start your pitch?” His father threw him an admonishing glance as he slid into his desk chair, surveying the bare Starsword. “You smell like trash.” “Thanks. It’s a new cologne I’m trying out.” “You want an excuse for me to beat the shit out of you, Athalar, then I’m down.” “Yeah, but we hate the angels more than we hate wolves, so … you’re only our second-worst enemy.” “I’m flattered I was so high on your priority list today.” “Nice to meet you. I’m busy.” “He’s a little young for you.” “So this is just to prove you’ve got bigger balls? You want to head up the Aux while you’re in town, fine. I could use a vacation.”

“I’m sure there are Reapers who’ll stoop to fuck you.” “You would have traded your life for a fire sprite’s?” There was no condescension in the question—merely bald curiosity. “Yeah. I would have.”

“No. I … I guess my mind reached for yours.” “It’s always the lady’s choice with me. I’m game for anything.”

“Our insurance rates will go sky-high.” “I don’t need to. I don’t give a shit what you look like. I like talking to you.” “I want to smell your scent. See you. Even for a moment.” “I’m really glad you’re my sister.”

“First rule of being a prince. Rebel where you can.” “I wanted to see you tonight. I spent the entire time watching the clock.” “Your fate is bound to mine.” "Long live the queen."

[bearslonelywinter]

The lies we'll tell: NMJ x Plus Size Fem! Reader

Summary: Being the secretary to a powerful CEO is no easy feat. But with his lingering dragon like eyes, things could get a bit more interesting.

Warnings: Possessive behavior, Smut, bit of fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, dom!Namjoon, sub!reader, work place bullying and talk of diet culture. Also, very light editing done. FLITH.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

A/N: Hi hi! This is my first story posting on here. I used to write a lot back then but I am just now getting back into the swing of things and I hope you guys enjoy~ <3 I am very nervous.

You spent the majority of your early morning in the bathroom trying to readjust your tight skirt. You had no idea why you let your best friend, Jia decide to pick out your clothes for today.

"Ah, shit," you whisper to yourself trying to bring it down more and more but the skirt keeps wanting to ride up your plump thighs.

"Why, why, why! Did I let Jia talk me into this," you whisper to yourself when you hear one of the stall bathrooms unlock.

A tall slender woman appeared. She's pale, short jet black hair that stopped right above her shoulders with a cute grey business casual outfit that complemented that pale skin. She looks at you through the mirror with all of the cookie cutter sinks lined up, washes her hands and reapplies her bright red lipstick.

"Such a shame," she says.

"Excuse me?" you ask.

"Oh? You heard that? Sorry, sometimes my thoughts slip out." She smirks, eyes rolling in disgust as she see's you keep struggling to pull down your skirt. "I was saying that it's such a shame . . . no more like a disappointment that our CEO hired you over me. I'm sure I'd be more of a prize to look at," she pauses putting her lipstick away in her bag and fixes her hair. "He pick someone who is supposed to keep up, how can you do that when you can't even keep up with yourself?"

Your face was red, boiling over with anger within you. Nari, Nari was a mean mean woman even when you first met her when you both were young interns. She has always had her sights on the CEO of Bangtan Corp. She was young money and blew it off while partying in her early twenties from the rumors you heard. Daddy is broke but still has connections which lead her, here . . . you about to rip her a new one.

"I'm sorry, last time I checked I'm the one close with the CEO? Not you? Huh, such a shame that your pretty little head still can't comprehend that. While I am struggling, I will and still will come on top. Don't you forget that," you snapped.

Her face is red, just about almost as red as that obnoxious red lipstick she has on. She quickly walks out of the bathroom, pushing past another woman. "Woah! Be careful, sheesh," the woman's voice shouts. It's a familiar voice. "Hey what happened with Narcissus over here?" Jia asks.

Tears sting your eyes and all you can do is hold onto the ends of your skirt still trying to pull it down. "Hey, hey! What's going on?" Jia asks while getting closer. You look up at her in the mirror. She is a bit tanner, long light brown hair she keeps into a ponytail with cute bangs to frame her face. She usually has light brown contacts in but today, her dark eyes are only focused on you.

"I'm sick of her shitty attitude towards everyone, I'm sick of people doubting my skills because I got picked to be Mr. Kim's secretary and most of all I AM SICK OF THIS SKIRT!" you couldn't help but shout a bit while trashing about.

Clearly over-stimulated, Jia shushes you while petting your hair. "Y/N, hey girl it's going to be alright, look at me!" she exclaims.

"No."

"Look at me, Y/N, I'm not playing games here."

You give in, facing towards her and away from the big mirror.

"First and foremost. Nari over here, that bitch. Don't worry about her, she can be a bully with her little group and keke all she wants but, it will not get her far, not with the high school mentality she has. Secondly, you speak three different languages, you were valedictorian in your collage and you can crush a cantaloupe with these thighs," she says, giggling while taking a good little slap to your inner thigh.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better, how?" you ask while rolling your eyes.

"Because! I was going to say before you interrupted me. Thirdly, you're hot."

"Oh come on now, you're ju-"

"Y/N, no I'm serious. Look at you," she says while she gets behind you and makes you face towards the mirror. "Look at how cute you did your hair today, your makeup is on point and matches so well with your dark navy blue skirt, long sleeve white silk blouse and your small pearl necklace you have on. You're too cute. I know you think your skirt . . . is a bit too short and I'm sorry for that. I just thought you needed to feel beautiful as much as you look right now."

There's a pause. You take a look at yourself, a really good look at yourself. You see how your curves are fitted well. How the black small belt holding your skirt is making your waist come in and how flushed your hips are. Your black sheer tights highlight your thick thighs and how your black chunky heels are making your back straighten, giving you that boost you need. To top it off, your breasts look perfectly round, the white blouse has a small little plunge showing the tops of them off, beautifully.

Jia takes notice and gives you a soft smile.

"Are we about to kiss?" you joke.

"No! But, I'm down if you are!" She laughs a hearty laugh all while you wave her off. You grab your large bag off of the sink counter and pull out a grey sweater. "Ugh no, please not the sweater," she says.

"While I appreciate you basically eye fucking me, this skirt is still inappropriate for work," you say. You wrap the light feeling sweater around your waist and tie the arms around the front of you. The longer part covers your bottom. "I have to schedule some meetings now. See you after work?"

Jia gives you her big smile. "Of course! Dinner at your place?"

"Dinner at my place," you agree. "Don't forget that wine I left at your place okay!" you say as you leave the bathrooms.

"What wine again!?" she yells.

* * *

The office space you've shared with Mr. Kim has always been so intimate. You were placed in a small waiting room and the doors that were almost immediately behind you, is where he resides. Like a dragon underneath a mountain with his pile of gold, gold like secrets you'd say.

It was around 12 p.m. About lunch time for Mr. Kim and yourself. You'd always have the kitchens below deliver his lunch to his office while you waited outside at your desk to eat yours. But this time, when you knock with hot soup and meat in hand, he doesn't answer.

You knock again, no answer. You wonder if you should just leave him a text message. No, you thought. From the first time you met him in your interview with him, to officially receiving the job - he has always told you, whenever you needed him, to go straight to him.

But you didn't need him, you just needed to give him his food. You stand there, feet firmly planted into the ground, your breathing getting shorter. What could go wrong, you thought. Just say excuse me, give him his food and get out of there.

You took a deep breath, knocked once more and let yourself in. The room is big, adorned with navy blue color painted on the walls with expensive monochromatic art pieces lined beautifully and two statues of white marble dragons in the corners by his big black wooden desk. The large ceiling tall windows, with the view of the city of Seoul really pulled the room together. You took a step further, your heels meeting the soft plush gray carpet that's in the middle of the white tile flooring. Two black leather facing his desk, the back of his own leather swivel chair, is faced away from you.

You take notice of a small glass cup that was empty but you can see the coloring of the recent drink he has recently drank, brown. Whiskey of some sorts you believe, knowing Mr. Kim has always texted you to buy whiskey for his clients who request meetings with him. You crept closer. Placing the hot soup with the meats onto the table, trying to not disturb him.

"Hi, Mr. Kim. Your food is ready," you whisper. No answer. You slowly move around the desk, to see if your CEO is still alive. But there he was, his beautiful tan skin, his plump lips and his black hair that framed his face oh so perfectly. He was asleep.

You linger for a moment, looking at him. He's wearing a two piece all blacked out suit. He looks tired to you. You know with all of the meetings in the last couple of days with international affairs, especially with trying to dip his toes into the music industry with a new artist can be difficult and it's finally caught up with him.

Seeing him sleep is peaceful to you. You could take a picture if you wanted to but all I can do is soak up the silence and his beauty.

"You know, if you're just going to stand there you might as well bring your lunch in here and join me," he says. You took a step back and see him sit up a bit while he opened his eyes. His dragon like eyes. They roamed your body as he casually licks his lips from what you assume the long nap he had. "A grey sweater? Are you cold, Y/N?"

You cock your head in confusion all while you look down and remember about the stupid sweater you had to wrap around yourself. "Oh! I am so sorry Mr. Kim. I had a wardrobe malfunction and I just needed a quick fix before trying to tackle all of the scheduling done for today," you say quickly.

"Is that so?" he says. "Well my proposal still stands, grab your lunch and join me. You're already here"

Your thoughts were racing. Oh no, I disturbed him. He's going to shred into me for invading his space, you thought. "O-Of course, sir," you say quickly exiting the luxurious room to your little desk outside. From under your desk was a mini fridge. You grabbed your chicken salad with your black ice cold water bottle and came back into the room with him.

He set one of the guest chairs closer to the large wooden desk, opened one of the boxes and began to blow to cool down his noodles. You quietly, place your lunch in front of him all while pulling out the chair so you sit down. Even when he is sitting up, he towers over you, you rub your legs together. He notices.

"Is that all you brought darling?" he asks. His words sending chills down your spine. A pet name.

"Yeah, I just really need to watch what I eat sometimes . . . I'm sure you noticed," you say, wanting to shrink into the leather seat.

"No, as a matter of fact. I notice the lunches you usually bring in. Have you been eating enough?"

You want to just disappear. It was so invasive, like he can see right through you. While it made you feel this way, you wanted him to pry more. You wanted him to know every part of yourself.

"M-Mr. Kim. I-"

"Namjoon, please call me Namjoon."

"Namjoon sir . . . I . . . uh, it's just been hard when hearing all the comments and people saying things towards me. I just want to make sure that I look good, to make you look good . . . sir."

You look at him, the dragon eyes are back. He's peering into your soul all while you feel so small. He leans forward, hands in front of his face, he cocks his head and sighs. You see how plump his lips are, how sharp his eyes are and how his hands . . . oh his hands and what you would give to feel them.

"I'm sorry, I said too much," you say to try to ease the tension.

"Nothing you say or do will ever make me look bad, darling. Why you should tell me who is making such remarks to my secretary."

Your heart flutters, you expect him to brush off the matter or to even shame you like others have. But, should you really give a name? Nari was an awful woman yes, but this was messing with her income if you were to interject. You hesitate. He notices.

"If you're worried about me firing them. I wouldn't do so, let me ease your mind," he says leaning back his chair, spreading his legs a bit farther apart, eyes still on you. "Give me a name and i'll make sure they will never bother you again."

This time, his voice rumbled in your bones. He meant it, you can tell he did. You open your mouth a bit, he leans in a bit more - awaiting your answer.

"It's this woman who was in the communications division with me from when I first started here as an intern . . . she was also one of the people running to be your secretary when we both saw the internal portal application."

"Ah," he says. Finally happy with your answer.

"You promise you won't get her fired or anything? As much as I dislike her, I don't fancy messing with people's money. That's not something I'd want to do to her."

"You have a good heart," he says, lifting out of his chair to move the food to the side. "Stand with me, Y/N."

Almost like an instinct, you stood with him. He motions for you to come to him and you did. You walk over to his side of the desk and he makes you both look out into the city.

"I read your file a while back, when I first hired you two months ago. Trilingual woman in her early twenties coming to a big hit company like mine. I was intrigued you know?" he says looking down at you.

"That I spoke three different languages? I don't think it's that impressive . . ." you trail off.

"That's not an easy feat, Y/N. You passed all of the communications tests with flying colors, me and my team gave you impossible tasks but you managed to outwit everyone and surprise everyone with how efficient you are. I had to see you."

You blush, you never realized how much at hand Namjoon put into the tests you and others had to make. You felt proud and if you could, you'd call your mom and tell her you made the CEO proud of you. You were beaming and loved the praise he gave you. He notices.

"And when I saw you . . ."

Oh no, here we go. All of a sudden your mood became sullen, he's going to tell you how disappointed he was when he saw you or whatever horrible thing.

"When I saw you, you took my breath away," he says.

"Wha-"

"You are so radiant. Genuinely such joy. I saw how you made your co-workers laugh, you made lunches for everyone and you're just so beautiful."

You felt as if this was a dream. Was the number one bachelor in all of South Korea, the CEO of one of the biggest companies . . . was complimenting you? Your mouth gap open, you took a step back to try to gather everything he just said. Your heart is racing as your face is turning red. He smiles.

"All while, you look great doing it."

That was your boiling point. You had to go, get out of here before he takes too much notice of how much you're unraveling in front of him. Before you could, you felt him behind you. You looked up to see in the big windows, a reflection of you two.

"You know what I see when I look at you?" he asks.

"I, umm . . . someone who can make you proud?" you ask. It was a dumb dumb response you thought to yourself.

"I see a beautiful, sexy young woman," he says while he unties the sweater around your waist and throws it to the side. You can finally see how big your hips are. While fully clothed, you felt exposed. His hands stay on your hips. "Now tell me, what do you see now?"

You wanted to rub your legs together again. Even from the sheer reflection of you two in the window, his eyes are only focused on you. You just nodded your head dumbly in hopes he understands what you're saying yes to.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk . . . use your words, darling."

Your breath hitches, you wanted to curl into a ball and wanted to run. He's seeing right through you, he's toying with you. He knows, he knows how bad you want him. The side glances you two give to each other for weeks and how you always straighten your back when he comes in and out of his office. He knows.

Namjoon was a man full of focus, his job, with his own projects and with his women. Once he saw you, he had to see what you were hiding underneath those clothes. Today was especially hard for him when he saw how short your skirt was and how your sheer black tights looked so snug on your thighs. He had to tear into you, no he needed to tear into you.

"I-I see you want to tear into me," you respond.

He smiles and brings his head in closer to your ear, "You'd be correct." You smile back at him, one of his hands is going for your waist while the other remains on your hip. "You're running the show, darling. Tell me when or when to stop."

Thousands of thoughts are running through your head, you should stop this. You have to stop this, he was your boss, your senior and someone who is much older than you. But the way your heat aches in between your legs, says otherwise.

"I want you to bend me over this table and have your way with me," you breathe out. He smiles, you see that malevolent smile. He kisses the side of your head.

"As you wish."

He hikes up your tight skirt as far as it'll let him, showing him the pink lace colored panties you have. You looked away from the reflection of you, but then his soft lips met yours. He deepens the kiss. He parts and you're breathless once again. His eyes peered into your soul.

"I need you to see how pretty you look," he says, slowly turning your head to the reflection. You cringe on how you look, your thick thighs and how the panties you have have already dampened from how wet you are. "Look at my pretty girl. So beautiful." You buck a bit at his words. Wanting him to touch you more. You needed more, more, more. He unbuttons your long sleeve blouse, one by one slowly making sure you're still looking. He throws your blouse across the room, showing your pink bra.

Your breasts were pushed up so deliciously for him but you were too worried about how your stomach looked, your arms went immediately to cover your mid section. Namjoon takes notice and lifts your arms up. His arms wrap around you.

"My baby looks beautiful, no matter what," he says. He comes from behind you, kneels in front of you and looks up. "Everything, every inch of you is beautiful." He hikes up your skirt more. He's kissing your knee, to lower inner thigh, to your upper thigh now. You had to lean against something, you were getting weak in the knees. You lean back against the large wooden desk as he lifts your left up and propped it on his shoulder. Kissing every inch on your inner thigh.

Your core was heating up, you wanted to beg him to stop teasing you. Namjoon looks up at you and smiles. His hands rides up your thighs all the way to your hips and back in between your thighs again. He goes for the outer layer of your sheer black tights right where your core is. You moan out as he rips the middle of them. Your pink panties in full view in front of him.

"You're this wet already, darling?" You face away until his voice brings you back. "Look at me baby." You turn to look at him. "You're not going to keep your eyes off of me," he says. You nod. "Use your words baby."

"Yes . . . sir," you say. You know you picked the right words because once you said that, he places thumb and glides it over your clit. You moan out softly. Keeping your gaze on him and he's watching you fall apart. He smirks as gently moves your pink panties to the side, getting a full view of your pretty pussy.

"Divine," he says while popping a finger in slowly. You moan out, feeling your slick dripping down your thighs. He's slowly reaching inside of you, making your squirm in his grasp. You wanted more, you needed more.

Another finger. His ring finger along with the middle finger inside of you slowly pumping in and out while his thumb grazed over your clit occasionally. You were unraveling, moaning his name, moaning swears. He found it amusing that you never broke eye contact with him, Namjoon needed to test you more.

In a swift motion, his plump lips attacked your core. You cry out and grip the table behind you. Needing some stability. "Ah fuck!" you cry.

His tongue is dancing around your clit and moving down to your hole where his fingers reside. You never break the view you're seeing. His dragon eyes peering into your soul like he wanted it. He wanted to take everything from you and make it his . . . and the way he was eating you out, you'd let him.

You feel yourself on the brink of coming. You had to let him know, let him know he makes you feel good. "N-Namjoon, I can't hold it anymore!" you scream.

He detaches and as he stares at you he says, "Be a good girl and finish for me."

You about lost it, his fingers pumping in faster with his tongue dancing now on your clit. You cry out. You run your fingers through his soft black hair, wanting to pull on it. You restrain yourself and simply press into him more. "I-I can't do it anymore. I'm coming!" you cry out feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you. Your eyes rolling back and you fully lean on the desk.

He leans up to kiss you and you accept. You taste yourself on his tongue. It's so sinful, yet it feels so right. Both of your tongues dance in and out of each other's mouths. He begins to unhook your bra and throws it across the room. Your nipples are ready for him to play with. He looks down, kissing your neck, your chest and then down to your right breast. Popping your nipple into his mouth he begins to circle around your nipple and with his other hand playing with the other. Your knees buck but you also wanted to do something for him.

You made him look at you. He was taken a back. A bit surprised as you slowly descend down on your knees. Seeing the tenting in his black slacks. You peer up at him, his face filled with amusement.

"I want to also make you feel good," you say.

He smiles, he decides to lean back into his own swivel leather chair, spreading his knees apart. Inviting you in. "Go on then," he says.

You crawl to him, a sight he was happy to see. Your plump bottom is in the air and way your breasts bounce. He wanted to just say fuck it, grab you and fuck you on the floor. But he knows with a woman like you, you need time and he was so willing to give you plenty.

You crawl and finally plant your knees on the ground. You fumble with his thin black belt and his zipper but you got it down. His thick long hard cock sprang out almost hitting his stomach from just the sheer length he had. You swallow, a bit intimidated on how it looks. He was most definitely bigger than anyone you've been with before.

"I want to taste you," you say to him, softly gripping his cock and pumping your hand up and down. He groans softly which only makes you so much wetter.

"Take me in that pretty mouth of yours then darling," he says leaning further back. You couldn't take it. You spit onto his throbbing cock and swirl your tongue around the tip. Just as he has done to you, you'll do to him. "Ah, fuck," he whispers. "Y/N, fuck."

You took him into your mouth as you could try to swallow as much as you could of him. You bobbed your head up and down, letting your tongue swirl around and your saliva dripping onto his pants. Namjoon was about to lose it. The sight of you was something to behold. He never thought a woman he had his eyes on for months is now under him, taking him so perfectly. Mine, mine, mine he thought to himself. She is mine.

He's groaning and it's making you so wet, you wanted him, you needed him inside of you and he could tell by the way your other hand has left his shaft and he can see you playing with yourself. Namjoon couldn't take it anymore. He grabs your face and lifts you up to kiss him.

You deepen the kiss and then bite his bottom lip. He takes a look at you, smirks and bites your bottom lip back and pulls, causing you to moan in his mouth.

He grips your bottom as he lifts you up onto the table with such ease you puts you into shock and excitement. He's towering over you, taking off his work jacket along with his silk black button up. His body is godly, tan and ripped and seeing his cock basically line up with your entrance is the only mental image you needed to save in your head. You could come from just the sight of him alone.

He slowly, yet softly pushes you down to lay on your back and hiking your legs on his shoulders. He leans down, your face to face with him.

"You're in charge here. Say the color red if you want me to stop or if I'm hurting you. Say the color green if I am good, okay baby?" he asks. You nod your head. "Use your words," he demands.

"Green, sir."

"Good."

He rubs himself against your entrance and you're just waiting, you moan and groan as for him to hurry up. He sees you're eager, so is he but he just wants to drink in every moment, every facial expression you're making . . . he wants to savor the moment he first enters you.

"Namjoon, make me yours," you say as you flutter your eyes towards him causing him to become painfully hard. He can't take it.

He slides in, causing your back to arch and ache against the wooden table. He's filling you to the brim with his cock. He's panting and looking down at your face. You want to turn away, embarrassed on how full you are but his eyes remain trained on you.

"What color baby?"

You moan out, "Green sir."

That's all he needs before he starts sliding in and out of you. He's picking up the pace and all you can feel is him, think of him and look at him. Namjoon filled your senses with just the idea of him. His hard thick cock rocking in and out of you causing your breasts to bounce in his face. With his hand he starts to pull and twist at one of your nipples causing you to moan out his name.

"Namjoon, fuck- please, more!"

He smirks, fucking you harder and faster pounding into your sweet pussy. Making the sweetest noise for him. He too is unraveling. He lets go of your nipple and runs his hands down your stomach and finds your clit again. "Come, come with me this time," he says, rubbing his finger over your clit.

You're turning red, spewing swears and having your eyes filled with just him. His black hair swinging over his brows and eyes as he's fucking into you cashing his own high. His plump lips being bitten down because all he can look at is you and your body.

He slides all the way in this time, hitting your cervix and you cry out. Back arching and toes curling. "Namjoon! I'm coming!" you scream. He leans over, shutting you up with a kiss and then he presses his forehead against yours.

"Come, come with me," he says not moving out all the way but moves so the majority of him is still inside and your clit is still being played with. He's groaning, moaning. "Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me, Y/N. You're a fucking dream. I can't wait to fuck you," he says, pushing deeper. "Over," he pushes further, "And over again," he finally says, groaning as you both have a wave of pleasure washed over you both.

You both are panting. His head buried in between your breasts, you chuckle. He looks up at you and smiles. You both share a quick kiss.

"I'm guessing, I'm having my lunch breaks in here from now huh?"

He smirks, appreciating your joke after the intensity you both shared. "I'd be damned if you start having lunch with another man," he joked back. "You're my pretty girl, mine now."

"What am I going to tell Jia now that I'm spending my lunch time with you now?"

He ponders for a moment and shrugs. "Oh, the lies we'll tell them, it's going to be fun and it'll be our little secret, darling."

[coral-island-player]

Spark's other parent

I know the identity of Spark's other parent. Long post under the cut

Ok, so this is about a game called Cattails Wildwood Story. I wholeheartedly recommend it, it's sometimes described as "stardew valley but cats" and while there is no farming, the relationship system is quite similar, and maybe even better in some aspects (dialogue for every relationship stage which is 12 if you marry the npc, specific dialogue for when your hunger or health is low, getting gifts, you have a birthday, etc.). But if you're reading this, you probably already know all that! So, let's get into it.

So, the identity of Spark's other parent has never been explicitly confirmed, however I have a strong theory on who it may be.

Often it is speculated that Spark's other parent is a member of the Forest Colony. Or another colony. And while it seems likely, there is one singular piece of dialogue from Ember, which you get at 3 hearts, that puts all that into question.

"I spent some time as a house cat, (Name). Well, sort of. The humans let me come and go as I pleased, but they always left out food for me. It was a decent life, but I could never go back to it. That's when I met my ex. Too many bad memories associated with that time in my life."

So from that dialogue we find out that Ember used to be a house cat and that they met their ex partner and the other parent of Spark during that time. Is there a game where Ember is a house cat and we can find out more about them?

Well, there is.

So, for those of you who are familiar with the Warrior Cats book series (and that's probably 99% of Cattails players. It's not needed to enjoy or understand it, as even the game developer hasn't read it, just the field guides because his little sister wanted a game about her favourite book, but worth a try if you want to understand how Cattails became what it is today), you might have heard of a game Warrior Cats Untold Tales.

It's a game that was made by the Cattails developer. For those of you who haven't heard of it, it's an old game that you can download on your computer for free. It's very low quality when it comes to graphics and gameplay, but hey. It's better that 99.9% of what you can find on mobile for free. It's basically a very early version of Cattails when it comes to mechanics. If you take Cattails and take away Stardew Valley, you're pretty much left with a higher quality version of WC:UT. It's an oversimplification and obviously Cattails is more that the combination of these games. Just trying to give you a general idea what it's like. It's worth a try - after all, it is free. There will be spoilers here for the part with Ember - because as you probably can tell, they are in the game.

So, as you play the game, you might encounter a cat named - yeah you guessed it - Ember. They're a kittypet (the clan cats' name for a house cat) and willing to show you their house and let you visit them and possibly live there if you pay 40 reputation points (representing the fact that it's dishonorable for a clan cat to accept anything from humans). Now if it wasn't for that one piece of dialogue, I'd just think that it doesn't take place in the same universe - but given what Ember said, it probably does.

When you visit Ember, you find out they live with an owner named George and a little kitten named Fuzzy who you can play hide and seek with. But you can also find a passage to BloodClan (for those of you who don't know, it's a group of street cats that are kinda evil and look like Charlotte). There is one cat that is white (unfortunately I couldn't find a high quality photo, just look up "warrior cats untold tales thrash"). His (that's right, that cat is referred to as "he") name is Thrash (not a typo, that's legit his name. I was today years old when I found out his name isn't Trash) and he can actually live with you and Ember and Fuzzy! If you let him live in the owner's closet, he will give you something every day, but Fuzzy won't play hide and seek with you anymore because Thrash is mean and Fuzzy is upset that you let him in the house.

So, it is plausible that Thrash and Ember fell in love when that happened and had a kitten. Now, I have no idea how Ember got to the Forest Colony, but I am almost certain that Thrash is Spark's father.

Also that means that Spark is half BloodClan (unlike Charlotte)

[daboyau]

Hey, for the writing challenge, I'd be interested in seeing 38 for whichever of your AUs you prefer, if you're not overwhelmed!

Also, your latest chapter for the Hunger Games AU is so good! Donnie helping Digi and Gizmo is a little heartbreaking. He wants to be cold so bad, but no. And the descriptions were so excellent. I want to see all the designs! Especially the farmer and the corn haha. That cracked me up a bit:D Thanks for writing, I love to read it!

Sorry this took so long!! For some reason “hole” was just not wanting to cooperate with me! I had a handful of fleeting ideas (Zombie au, raph’s death in the bad timeline, shell rot, after the foot cass joins a cult that worships The Pit instead, etc) but ended up going with something for my Leave AU. I feel like I should have written you something RHG related since you gave me such a kind compliment about the last chapter. 😭 alas, my brain didn’t want to cooperate there. I hope you like this regardless!! @eb177

@boots-with-the-fur-club

It’s the fifth time they’ve run through this drill, but for some reason, Three just can’t seem to wrap his head around it. There’s something in the footwork, and the transition from one flowing movement to the next that he just keeps missing. His brothers are eyeing him nervously now. Their movements slow just a little, trying to give him time to catch up, or the opportunity to see how their steady movements differ from his own clumsy ones and fix his mistakes. 

Draxum has noticed. He’s watching them, eyes narrowed, lip curling with disdain. Three knows he should be better, just like he knows that his blundering and his brothers’ trying to cover for him will mean they get punished, too. He can’t let that happen, so he needs a way to draw all the attention (and all the ire) towards himself. Draxum draws closer, fury in his expression, a look that promises punishment for their unsatisfactory performance. Three’s heart is pounding hard against his plastron, and it’s easy to see that their creator is out for blood. 

When Draxum tells them to do it again, Three waits for him to circle closer. Then, he lets his ankle twist. He lets himself fall. 

One gasps and Four covers his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his whimper. Two freezes, expression empty but eyes gone glassy and distant. Three barely has time to hit the ground before Draxum’s hand has circled his arm with bruising force, claws digging into muscle as he hauls him to his feet and drags him from the room. His brothers try to follow, but Three frantically shakes his head at them, eyes pleading. They fall back, watching him until the door slams shut between them.

He knows where they’re going. The fear is already rising like bile in his throat, choking him. It’s hard to breathe, and Draxum is so much bigger and he’s dragging him along now because Three is too short to keep up on his own, and the mark his grip leaves on his arm is going to take forever to heal, and he knows that this is going to hurt, and all he can think is at least it’s just me. 

The lab is usually forbidden. The only time Three is taken inside it is when he’s done something wrong. Something bad. Something that will require their creator to pick him apart to discover exactly what it is that has malfunctioned inside of him this time. Three doesn’t like the lab. 

There is a pit, tucked away in the corner. Maybe it used to be used for something good. Like a well, or a place to burn trash. Now it is used to hold them until Draxum has the time he requires to run his tests. To poke and prod and rip and cut and get answers to his many questions and grievances. 

Last time, he’d spent four days down there before Draxum had deemed it convenient to begin. Three trembles despite his best efforts to hide the fear that rises within him. The waiting is almost as bad as the tests. He wishes that Draxum would just get it over with, but he knows he’ll never get that lucky. After all, he’s the one who always puts himself into this position. He should just feel grateful that none of his brothers will be down there with him.

He hovers at the edge of the hole, his position held in the balance only by his creator’s hand on his arm. He wonders how long it will be this time. Draxum’s angry gaze tells him that he won’t like the answer. 

Draxum lets go of his arm. For one terrible, stomach churning second, Three remains where he is. Heels overhanging the emptiness, balanced only on his toes, swaying slightly as he stares up at his creator’s face. Draxum sneers. He presses one finger into the center of Three’s plastron. 

He tips backwards, into the darkness.

[evilvillainapologist]

All right, so, the game console. 

Obviously, Tao Ran did way more than hand over that game console to Fei Du. He was there for Fei Du for years, had him over during the holidays, made sure he got fed after his mother's death, and probably provided a lot of stable home atmosphere for a teen who had grown up with a suicidal mother and a sadistic psychopath for a father. So we can all agree that Tao Ran is an angel and his only flaw is being straight. 

And yet. 

That game console is important for a couple of reasons: 

1. Play. 

Fei Du's dad does not strike me as the person who approves of play. Fei Du probably grew up with very little unstructured time to simply be a child. 

The game console has no ulterior motive. It's just there for fun. In a world where Fei Du was never allowed to be a child, the console for the first gives him permission to just be a teenager, a boy of fourteen who does not have to prove anything or be anything other than a child. 

Luo Wenzhou understood that. He grew up a rather chaotic kid, so yes, he understands how important it is for children to be just that - children. 

2. Escapism. 

There is a reason why we play games to distract ourselves from bad shit happening in our lives. Games are a great way for some escapism, and done in moderation this is something everybody needs. Since the console is handheld, Fei Du can take it with him, too. It's no coincidence that he plays it when he feels stressed; when one of his friends gets accused of murder or when he is triggered about his mom's suicide. 

3. Somebody cared for him. 

In its quintessence, the console was a gift with no strings attached. Even more so when he learns that the person who bought it for him did everything to ensure Fei Du would not find out it was him. A little kid who just got abandoned by his mother and who gets regularly abused by his father, isolated from the world. And then somebody comes and gives him something to play with just like that. That is not something you forget anytime soon. 

Fei Du's attitude towards the game console even seven years later when he is an adult and has other means of entertainment and no fatherly shackles anymore shows how important it is to him. And then he learns that it wasn't Tao Ran who gave it to him. This probably did nothing to change his opinion on Tao Ran. 

But Luo Wenzhou? The guy who never seemed to approve of him? 

And then we learn more about Luo Wenzhou's role in Fei Du's youth. At first it might seem that he was responsible for following up on his mother's suicide and then seven years later they started running into each other again, but clearly it was way more than that. We learn from Fei Du's dream that Luo Wenzhou was probably around a lot when Fei Du went to meet Tao Ran. He does care about Fei Du during those times, in his own surly way. 

We also have a memory of Luo Wenzhou's, about a time they hung out in Tao Ran's apartment and somebody broke a brick in his wall. 

Even on that new year's day when Fei Du receives the game console, considering that he saw Luo Wenzhou's bike outside of Tao Ran's apartment, we can assume that they spent that New Year together. Luo Wenzhou probably watched Tao Ran hand over the game console to Fei Du. 

And all of a sudden Fei Du realises that Tao Ran was not the only one thinking of him. Or being concerned for him, or wanting him to have a happier childhood. The guy who was always there, who provided entertainment for free, breaking into trash cans, yelling at old people and chasing muggers, actually thought about him enough to do something nice for him. 

And now it's seven years later and that same guy is actually not all that bad. He can even be nice, or at least, his grating personality can be fun to be around. 

Fei Du keeps parading around with that game console like a preening peacock, only to realise that maybe the guy who gave him a hang-up all those years ago is available (and not straight) after all.