#but I’m having a hard time envisioning what I would write about with anyone in the game | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

something-tofightfor · 1 year ago

Text

The Truth Is Out There: Sleepless

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Art Conservator/Restoration Specialist FBI Agent

Word Count: 5,816

Chapter Rating: NSFW - Explicit! (sexual content. language. continued accidental drug use/effects, Marcus in this state is his own damn warning.)

Series Warnings: Sex Pollen (with a twist), no use of Y/N, female reader insert, Reader works for the FBI in art restoration/conservation and has a nickname that is used often by Marcus. In this house we cannot stand Teresa and Jane and that is reflected in this story.

Summary: After a few hours, you’d think the effects of the Lapis would be wearing off, right? Not so fast.

Author’s Note: Nothing big this time - just enjoy. There are a few new links added to the masterlist page - you can see the rooms I’m envisioning while I write the story!

Come yell about Marcus with me if you want, my inbox is wide open and collecting cobwebs.

Masterlist / Unrequited / One Breath / The Truth / This Is Not Happening / Three Words / Soft Light

It took another 90 minutes - and almost a half dozen orgasms for each of you before you began to feel marginally better - and more like yourself.

You collapsed atop him, Marcus’ strong arms around you as he rolled both of you to the side. “Stay here. We need to drink something.” He spoke quietly, lips grazing your temple, and then he was gone, the weight of him leaving the mattress and bouncing you slightly. Just a few minutes. We need a break.

You were exhausted - barely able to open your eyes, and all you could smell was the two of you - sweat and sex and the faintest hint of his cologne on the pillow. I want this. I want this all the time. There was a dull ache between your legs, and you could feel just how kiss-swollen your lips were, but despite that, you still wanted Marcus, the drug coursing through your system manipulating your body’s natural reaction to him and intensifying it to an almost unmanageable level.

“Can you sit up?” He was back, and you cracked one eye open, sighing. “Scott didn’t bring straws, so you’re going to have to. I don’t want you to choke on it. I’m sorry.” He gave you a smile and you found yourself laughing, too, using both arms to push yourself upright. Of course you don’t. “Has anyone ever told you how right it feels to walk into a room and see you naked in their bed?”

He handed you a bottle of Powerade while he spoke, the cap already unscrewed. At the words - and the sincerity in his voice, you paused, fingers wrapped loosely around the plastic, your other hand holding the sheet up to cover your chest. “What? No, they haven’t.”

“You heard me.” He sipped from his own bottle, though he didn’t look away. “And ok. Let me be the first. I know this isn’t my bed, but -”

“Marcus, you can’t say that.” You took a drink, hoping that he couldn’t see how badly your hand was shaking. The liquid was cool and sweet as you swallowed it, and rather than lowering the bottle, you took another - longer - sip before trying to speak again. “Especially not after a few hours of the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, and before this Lapis shit wears off and we go back to -”

“Who said anything about going back?” He drank again, your eyes focused on the way his throat worked while he swallowed, the same heat in your belly that had been partially slaked by him beginning to burn again. How is it possible? It physically shouldn’t be. We … But as he lowered the bottle, he reached down with his free hand and adjusted himself through the towel he’d wrapped around his waist. He’s still hard. He… there’s no way. “Why would we, Scully?

“I don’t…” You cleared your throat. “I don’t know. Maybe I just figured that once we were back to normal and there was no reason for us to -”

“No reason?” He leaned in, his free hand trailing slowly over your cheek and then down the side of your neck before moving to your throat. “There’s more of a reason now than there was before, in my opinion.” You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore.” You shifted your hips, letting out a shaky breath. “Hollow. I want more, and I don’t know how that’s possible, because …” You let out a slow breath. “We’ve been going at it for hours.”

“Scott said that it was pretty intense until it wears off. They’ve done studies on the people they know have taken it, but he said that it’s hard to figure out exactly how it works because it hits everyone different and you can’t just … film people having sex for 7 hours just to see what they say and do.”

“They could.” You drank again, thinking. “I’m sure there are couples that would jump at the chance to have this kind of night even if it meant putting themselves on display. But I still don’t understand what sort of purpose this serves, though. What good is it to anyone to -”

“I’m sure Scott has all those answers.” Marcus’ voice was low again, and at the sound, your fingers tightened on the bottle, the plastic crackling under your grip. “And I want to hear them too, but right now …” He scooted closer, reaching back to drop his empty bottle onto the floor. “Right now I want more of you, but if you’re too tired to -”

“No.” Head whipping back and forth, you finished the last few mouthfuls of colorful liquid and then flung your bottle to the side. “I’m not too tired.” Not after waiting two years for this. Letting the sheet drop, you leaned in and pressed your forehead to his. “What do you need, Marcus?”

He pulled you into his lap and you went willingly, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, the man’s hands settled on your hips. The towel between you provided some friction where you needed it most, but you wanted skin-on-skin, to feel him notched between your bodies, even if he wasn’t inside of you. “This.” He flexed his hips forward, pushing against you and you gasped, teeth digging into the corner of your lip so hard you were surprised you didn’t taste blood. “Need to be in you, because it just feels …” He groaned. “Feels so damn good. I don’t even know if I can come again, but I want to.”

One of his hands slid down and parted the soft cotton of the towel before reaching beneath it. Even though you’d seen him take himself in hand multiple times in the previous hours, it still made you hum in appreciation when he did it that time.

His flushed skin slipped in and out of his grip, the man’s fingers flexing as he changed his hold. When you rocked forward and made contact, it was his turn to react, a low hiss escaping his lips as he changed the angle of his movement, knuckles brushing against you with each stroke. “Wish we didn’t have to worry about a condom.” He groaned as he spoke, the man tilting his head so that he could look down between your bodies. “I wish we could just -”

“I’m on birth control, Marcus.” You wet your lips, fighting back a moan when he paused mid stroke to circle his thumb over your skin, pressing down just enough to make you shiver. “Have been for a long time, and even if I wasn’t, I’m sure we’re going to have to see doctors tomorrow, so …” There are plenty of options.

You scooted even closer as you spoke, your chest pressed against his, the motion of his hand restricted to only the shallowest of strokes. But Marcus made the most of it, twisting his wrist and running his knuckles along the parts of you that he could reach. “It’s been months since…” He kissed the corner of your mouth, taking in a shaky breath. “Since I’ve been with anyone else, so that’s not … you don’t have to worry about me.”

You kissed him back, sucking his lower lip between yours and then releasing it with a nod. “It’s been a while for me too.” And I want this. “So, Marcus, if you want …” He flexed his hips forward, the length of him pressed to your lower abdomen along with his knuckles. “If you want me like that, then… yes.”

You were shocked at how easily you were giving yourself over to the man, but you weren’t surprised that it was happening. “Lift yourself up.” He was breathing hard, one hand back on your hip. “Use my shoulders.” You did, head tilted down so that you could watch what he was doing as you rose up, using his shoulders and your legs to put yourself into the position he’d requested. “Go slow. I don’t want to -”

He stopped speaking when you began to lower yourself onto him, the man’s hand keeping him steady as he slipped in, inch by inch. You whined at the feeling. Despite the fact that the two of you had been together multiple times in the previous hours, taking him was still a stretch. Marcus was just as hard as he’d been the first time he’d removed his pants to let you touch him, and though it should have shocked you, it didn’t. “Holy fuck, Marcus, you feel…”

You couldn’t finish, instead keeping silent until he was completely sheathed by your body. It’s better. This is … thank Christ. “Finally.” He breathed the word into your ear, Marcus mouthing at the skin in front of it as he wound both arms around you. “Oh, God, finally.” One of your hands found its way to his arm, the other pressed to the center of his back, between his shoulders.

You understood what he meant. The hours spent together previously had helped to push back the urgency of your desire. Each minute the two of you had been connected had made things just a little more bearable, and every orgasm had brought momentary relief. But this is so much better. This is … “We should have tried this hours ago.”

You laid your head down against his shoulder, face turned toward his neck, but neither of you moved otherwise, content to sit still, wrapped up in each other. “No.” He finally spoke some time later, the sound of his voice startling you. Was I dozing off? “No, we should have tried this a year ago instead of me telling you no.”

You didn’t disagree, but you didn’t know what to say in response, either. So you kept quiet, letting out a deep sigh and tilting your head so that your forehead was pressed to the side of his throat. We’re doing it now. And that’s what matters.

He moved first, Marcus’ fingertips trailing up and over your spine, and then, seconds later, he started to move his hips, too. The thrusts were barely even that because he was sitting up, but you could feel him, a low hum vibrating through his chest and into yours as he rocked into you.

It was lazy - the way you moved together, and that meant that it was unlike the previous hours, but the change was welcome. “Marcus…” Whispering his name, you lifted your head and then brought your hand up, the edges of your nails dragging over his scalp and tangling in his hair, which was curlier at the ends than you’d ever seen it before. He met your gaze, the man’s eyelids drooping halfway shut. For the first time, you realized that he was just as relaxed as you were, his body’s motion more reflex than anything else. “Do you want me to -”

“No.” He shook his head back and forth slowly. “I want you to stay right there.”

“I can do that.” Wetting your lips, you agreed. “But our legs are gonna fall asleep if we stay like this for too long, Pike.” That made him grin, Marcus’ eyes drifting away briefly and then locking with yours again.

“It’s only 8:30, but maybe sleep isn’t a bad idea.” He flexed his hips again, a gasp leaving you when the movement sent him even deeper into you, the smile fading into the smirk you loved so much. “You look like you could use it.”

“So do you.” Circling your hips as you tugged on his hair, you sighed. “We could both also use a shower, hmm? We’re a little …” Squinting at him, you wrinkled your nose. “Sticky.”

“Not as much as we could be.” Marcus caught you by surprise and kissed you, the press of his mouth soft until he pulled away. “But I agree, a shower would feel incredible.” The pace of his hips increased as you talked, and though you hadn’t realized it, you were clinging to the man again, your body’s response to his building slowly in the same way it had so many times earlier that day. “Come for me, one more time, and then -”

“What about you?” Your mouth fell open, but you squeezed your eyes shut, tightening the muscles in your thighs in an attempt to dull the pleasure you felt. “You said -”

“We’ll see what happens.” His hands moved to your hips, urging you to rock against him and meet each thrust. “Let me feel you like this at least once.”

The comment caught you off guard but what he was doing felt too good for it to derail you completely. Both of you went quiet as he continued, Marcus’ fingers dimpling your flesh while you braced both hands on his shoulders, chin tilted down so that it was almost touching your chest.

You’d thought it was impossible only minutes earlier. But with his pace, you knew he was going to ease you over the edge again, the friction of your bodies together - and the coarse hair on his lower belly and pelvis against your skin - giving you exactly what you needed. “Just like … keep doing that.” Humming out your approval, you nodded without looking back up. “There, Marcus. Right there, you -”

It was weaker than any of your previous orgasms had been, but it still felt good, your body shuddering as your muscles seized, Marcus’ hips continuing to move throughout. “You feel perfect.” He leaned in, resting his cheek against your temple. “God, that feels great.” The aftershocks pulsed through you, your breath coming out in shaky bursts, but Marcus still didn’t slow, chasing his own release.

The effect of the drug seemed to be wearing off - you could not only feel it in yourself, but you could tell based on Marcus’ lack of immediacy in following you with a climax. It’s getting a little harder for him, and that’s good. That means everything’s going to go back to normal. Releasing his hair, you stroked the back of his neck and leaned in, lips tracing a path over his jaw and then back before they parted so that you could take his earlobe between your teeth. “You’re close, Marcus. I can feel it.”

“I am.” He rasped the words out, nodding. “So close.” You bit down again, the pressure light, and then Marcus said your name, both hands pushing you away instead of holding you close. What? Why is - “Lay down.” He was breathing hard, both eyes wide. “Can’t finish inside. Can’t … not yet.” Not yet? What does - “Please.”

You moved faster than you had in hours, scrambling off of him and then laying back, your eyes remaining on the man as he shifted into place, kneeling next to you. He was fisting himself again, the motion of his hand languid as he eyed you. “You can touch me, Marcus. I want you to.”

Your words were all he needed - his free hand reaching out and sliding up and over your skin so that he could palm one breast. Marcus curled his fingers as you arched your back, the warmth of his hand like a magnet for you.

“Where? Where can I -” It was desperate, but you appreciated him asking. After reaching out to lay a hand against one of his thighs, you gestured to your stomach with your other hand, sighing.

“How ‘bout right here?” That permission was enough, and wordlessly, the man began to move his fist faster, your attention going from his face to the way he was touching himself. Even though it was dark in the room, the sun totally set and the sky turning a deep shade of blue-black behind the windows, you could see what he was doing, Marcus’ strokes much different than your tentative ones earlier had been.

He cried out your name as he came, the man’s body going rigid as a short spurt of hot liquid hit your belly. You waited for more but when there was none, you watched as he shifted his attention from your stomach back up to your face, Marcus’ tongue darting out to lick at his lower lip as his grip relaxed. “I think that might be it for me. I feel …” He paused, frowning. “Better.”

“Good.” You did, too, though there was still something lingering, a sense of discomfort that was centered just beneath the surface of your skin, keeping your muscles more tightly wound than usual. “I don’t know that I could handle anything else right now, no matter how much I want it.”

“I…” He stopped, frowning. You what? “Do you think you can stand long enough to take a shower? We were supposed to do that earlier, but instead we just…” Marcus tilted his head, the smile appearing back on his lips. “Came straight in here.”

“This is the fanciest hotel I’ve ever been in, so I’m sure there’s one of those built in seats in the shower.” You moved your hips - careful not to roll onto your side, though you turned your head toward him. “I can manage to get myself in there and sitting upright long enough to rinse off.” He agreed, taking a deep breath. “But we should do it together.”

“What?” The crease between his brows reappeared, Marcus’ head shaking back and forth slowly. “That doesn’t -”

“It’ll be faster that way.” You pushed up onto your elbows, nodding to the bathroom door with your chin. “And we can keep an eye on each other. We’re both exhausted, so if one of us falls asleep in there, it could be bad news.”

He only thought for a few seconds and then nodded, his expression smoothing out. “Can’t argue with that logic, can I?”

—

There was a built in seat in the shower, the marbled surface cool against your still overheated skin as Marcus adjusted the water to a good temperature. While you sat, you stared at him and the way his body moved, muscles rippling as he bent and twisted, beads of water making trails down his skin.

You hadn’t been lying when you said you were exhausted, or that you felt better, but as more time passed, the need you felt was growing again. I wonder if it’s the same for him. “Hey, you still with me?” He’d turned back to face you, one hand held out, palm up. “C’mere.”

He helped you to your feet, fingers tightening around your wrist, and when you took a step toward him, his other hand moved to your waist, fingers splayed over your hip. “I am. I’m just … I don’t know.” He turned you so that the water was hitting you both, Marcus letting go of your hand and sliding his fingers up your arm. “Feels so good, Marcus.”

“Mmhmm.” The two of you stood beneath the warm spray for long minutes, his hold on you never wavering while the spray did its job and cleansed your skin.

Instead, you moved even closer to each other the longer you stood there, finally turning your head to the side so that you could rest your cheek against his chest, both arms around his neck. “Hey.” He cleared his throat, whispering your name. “I know you can probably feel me, and I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything about it. I know you’re too tired to -”

“Marcus you’re under the influence of a drug, you don’t need to apologize because you’re the poster child for prolonged erections right now.” Pulling back enough so that you could look up at him, you wrinkled your nose. “You can’t help it, and I don’t want you to.” Dragging the fingers of one hand through his soaked hair, you shrugged. “I’m still just as turned on, even though you can’t see it.”

“I can feel it, though.” Hmm? “Scully, your nipples are so hard I don’t know how it’s not hurting you.”

You couldn’t stop the peal of laughter that erupted from your mouth at the matter of fact tone he used for such a ridiculous statement. But when you glanced down, you saw that he was absolutely correct. Well, shit. “I like this version of you, Marcus.” You spoke through laughter, and Marcus’ return smile was genuine - the same expression you’d grown used to being on the receiving end of during the time he’d been in DC. “Not that I don’t like normal you, too, but this … it’s nice to know that you’re…” Smooth. Really smooth. “I just like you, Marcus. A lot, and -”

“Stop.” He blinked twice, his hand resting against the side of your neck. “If we have this conversation, it’s not going to be tonight.”

“But the honesty thing. I figured you’d -”

“No.” He frowned then, taking a step forward and easing you back and toward the wall. “I need to know you’re being honest because you want to be, not because you have to be.” That makes sense.

“Ok. Alright.” You gasped at the feeling of the cool tile against your back. “Conversation when we’re sober. Clothes on. Dry.” That made him snort, but you could see that you were losing him again, the man’s pupils dilated, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “I think this water gave the Lapis a second wind. Is that even a thing?”

“I don’t know.” He tilted your head, his tongue dragging over his lip. “Did it give you a second wind?”

“I wouldn’t mind finding out.” Leaning forward, you kissed his cheek, your lips settling on the bare patch of skin he always complained about - but that you secretly loved. “Would you?”

“Not at all.” He turned his head slowly toward yours, tilting his chin downward as he urged yours up. The kiss you shared was brief but tender, Marcus sighing against your mouth before licking into it, his tongue stroking along yours with purpose.

When he broke away from you, it was only for a few moments, the man taking a breath and then moving his hands down your arms as he kissed his way lower. Marcus lingered with his lips on your throat, hands placed on your sides, and when you shifted to move your own hands, carding slowly through the soaked hair on his head as you urged him wordlessly to continue, he did.

You felt him mouthing at your collarbone and then beneath it, Marcus sliding one hand forward to cup the weight of your breast as he trailed his lips over the top swell. Oh he hasn’t… his mouth hasn’t been…

You’d both been too needy earlier to take things slow, but it seemed like he was trying to rectify that. The man’s mouth was warmer than the water as he kissed across ur skin, pausing before he sealed his plush lips over one nipple. You arched your back at the feeling, shoulders pressed against the wall - and when you moaned his name out, Marcus flicked his tongue against the hardened bud. Oh, shit.

Bringing his other hand up to mirror the action on the other side of your chest, you watched with hooded eyelids as he pushed your breasts together, releasing the first side and licking across them to take the other into his mouth. It sent a jolt through you - straight from his mouth to your core, and even though your brain wanted him to keep going, your body craved something else.

“Hey.” He hummed at your voice, but didn’t pull his mouth away, even when you said his name and tugged on his hair. He’s so focused. He’s focused on me and … You closed your eyes, breathing shallowly as you let him continue - the sound of the water splattering against your bodies and the tiled floor of the shower soothing you, along with his continued attention on your slick skin.

You kept one hand on his hair and moved the other away from him and down your torso, following the same path you’d taken hours earlier. He can keep doing that, but I need to touch myself. I need more. But much like that first time, Marcus halted you before you reached your goal, the man pulling his mouth free with a soft pop that you felt instead of heard. “You keep trying to touch yourself.” He sighed the words out, giving your chest one final squeeze before letting go, both hands moving to your waist and urging you to turn away from him. “When I’m right here and could do it for you.”

He pressed against you from behind, the man’s chest flat against your back, the length of him hard against the lower part of your body. “What are you waiting for then?” Putting your hands flat against the wall, you rocked your hips backward. You bit back the sound of surprise as he tightened his hold on you, the man anticipating your move. Smart. He’s been with me for one night and he already knows me that well? “Fuck, Marcus. You -”

“Looks like we get to use at least three places in this suite after all.” He kissed the space behind your ear and then dropped his head, resting his temple on the back of your shoulder. “Tell me if you need me to stop, alright?” Nodding in response, you felt him shift, using both hands to pull you further away from the wall by your hips, the arch of your back giving him a better angle. Widening the spread of your legs, you opened your eyes and looked down, the sight of his large hand pressed against your belly making your knees shake.

Marcus used his other hand to guide himself into place, and even though you were ready and anticipating his entry, the first push into you made you gasp, hips jerking backwards as you sought him out. He murmured your name, returning his hand to your thigh - and then Marcus was fully inside you again.

Oh fuck, this angle. He feels… Your hands slipped a few inches as he increased the pace, and when you were in the new position, he was able to sink deeper into you, the movement surprising him, too. “Marcus!” You slapped one hand against the wall, head hanging down. “Holy shit.” He only grunted in reply, the hand on your stomach moving lower as he dug the fingers of his other one into the meat of your thigh, keeping you steady.

You nearly screamed when his fingers made contact with you - sliding between your legs then beginning to move - back and forth first and then in a slow circle, the man alternating between the two motions as he kept his hips moving in a steady pace. “You feel…” He panted between words, sucking breath in between clenched teeth. “So fucking good like this.”

It was a shock to hear Marcus speak that way - his words and tone at odds with the man you’d gotten to know so well. But it suited him nonetheless, the peek into what he was like beneath his typically calm and composed demeanor making you fall even harder. Because that’s exactly what’s happening here. What’s been happening. Even if he never let you see that side of him again, simply knowing it existed was enough.

“You’re going to make me come again, Pike.” Mouth falling open in surprise as the tension in your body began to build yet again, you curled your toes in the puddled water beneath your feet, the ends of your fingers also slightly bent. “I don’t even know how it’s possible, but -”

“This isn’t going to happen every time.” Marcus pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades and then rested his forehead there. “So I hope you really enjoy tonight, and -” He grunted, pulling almost all the way out and then sliding back in, his thighs making contact with the backs of your legs. “And don’t hold it against me when we can’t do this again.”

Every time? That means he’s thinking about the future. “I wouldn’t survive.” You breathed the words out, trembling under his touch. “There’s no way.” You didn’t know if he heard you or not, but Marcus continued what he was doing - his hold accompanied by deep, slow thrusts, your body wedged between his and the wall. It didn’t take long to get you close, Marcus’ skilled fingers finding just the right angle and pressure to drive you wild.

He seemed to know it, too, doubling down on the efforts with his hand and kissing the back of your shoulder, mumbling words that you couldn’t make out over the sound of the water and your own breathing.

You’d just opened your mouth to warn him when with one more stroke of his fingers, you came again, the breath tumbling from your lips in a shaky exhale as your muscles tightened, thigh tensing beneath his touch. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit, you just…” He groaned, continuing to move, thrusts just a little more erratic, the pads of the man’s fingers still gliding over you, though much more slowly.

You didn’t know where to focus, and so you didn’t even try, instead only doing what was necessary to keep yourself upright and on both feet. The aftershocks of your orgasm pulsed around him each time he was fully inside of you, keeping you full. God he feels incredible. Your mouth was hanging open, the top of your head resting against the wall as your bent elbows supported as much of your weight as they could.

And then he was gone, the emptiness left behind making you whip your head to the side as you gasped out his name. Where’d he go? You didn’t need to wait long, Marcus crying out your name as he fisted himself once more, short quick strokes bringing him the final way over the edge. He came on the small of your back, the heat of it mixing with the water that was still raining down on you before it dripped down your legs. Fuck.

You hung your head, eyes finally closing, and then Marcus was turning you again, your back pressed to the tile as he crowded you against it. When you met his gaze, you saw the warmth in his eyes, his lips set into the tiniest of satisfied smiles. “That alright?”

“More than alright.” You reached out for him, hands going to his slim waist, and when he leaned in to kiss you again, you didn’t stop him. That kiss was slow and openmouthed, one of his hands slipping between the back of your head and the wall as he urged you to step forward and under the stream of water.

You stayed there, wrapped in his arms for countless minutes, and when Marcus finally broke away with a shaky breath, he was grinning. “Forgot we were in a hotel. The water’s not going to run cold.” You laughed at that, the sound echoing off of the glass walls. “You clean enough?” Nodding in agreement, you slicked his wet hair back with one hand. I’m going to have to be.

“I’m ready to lay back down. Maybe we should use the other bed, though. The first one’s a little … messy.” He didn’t disagree, and only a few minutes later, the two of you were towel-dried and laying in the second bed, the curtains pulled tightly shut to block out the light from the surrounding buildings - and the morning sunrise. Neither of you had bothered to get dressed after your shower, but you had brought your bags with you from the main room for easy access when you woke.

It was quiet in the room, the sounds of traffic below you muffled by the distance and the thick window glass - but all you could focus on was Marcus’ heartbeat, the steady thump pulsing against your palm. You were cozy beneath the bedding, your naked bodies curled around each other, and for the first time since before your fight with him days earlier, you were completely relaxed.

“It’s wearing off.” He sighed, raising his hips and then settling them back against the mattress. “I feel more like myself.”

“I do, too.” You frowned, taking a breath and then beginning to move your hand, swiping it slowly over his chest. “I’m just … tired. Exhausted, actually. You wore me out, Marcus Pike.” He chuckled, the rustle of the blankets quiet.

“I still want you, though.” It froze you in place, hand halted against his skin. But you said we weren’t going to do that tonight. Not until - “I just want you to know that. I’m not … I really don’t plan on trying to make sure things go back to how they were, or pretend this didn’t happen. There’s no point.”

“So what are you saying?” You pushed onto one elbow, looking down at him. “Marcus?” It was too much to hope for - that the two of you would emerge from the room and everything would just continue between you - but you couldn’t help feeling a tiny spark of excitement at the thought that it might.

“We’ll talk about it later, like we said earlier. But …” He reached up, fingers glancing off of your temple and then curling against your cheek. “But you know the truth now, and so do I. And … and we go from there, if you want to.”

“Ok.” There was more you wanted to say to him, but you wanted to be clear-headed when you did. And I want the same from him. I want to know it’s all him and not he Lapis. “Ok, Marcus.”

Every part of you felt heavy, and you were counting down the seconds until you could collapse against the mattress, closing your eyes and letting sleep take you. But you weren’t too tired to lean down and kiss him one more time, the press of your lips lingering against his.

You tried to break the kiss but Marcus didn’t let you. His hand curved around the back of your head to hold you in place as he inhaled. “One more.” You hummed in reply, the sound closer to a sigh than anything else and then kissed him again, his other arm beneath your body and wound around your waist, palm flat against your lower back. Only one?

He ended it with a short peck to the corner of your mouth, pausing before he relaxed against the mattress and loosened his hold on you so that you could lay back down, too. As the two of you got comfortable, you began to doze off again, breaths lengthening as his did the same. In the dark, long minutes later, you heard Marcus’ voice, the words already thick with exhaustion - and so quiet you weren’t sure whether or not you’d imagined them.

“I can’t wait to wake up next to you tomorrow.”

—

Surprise, there’s going to be one more chapter coming to tie everything up ... should be up tomorrow, but it may need to be pushed until Wednesday - we’ll see.

Tag list reblog coming soon.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #marcus pike fic #marcus pike masterlist #the truth is out there #ttiot #the truth is out there masterlist #ttiot masterlist #masterlist #writing #pedro pascal masterlist

122 notes · View notes

moonsandmobilityaids · 2 months ago

Text

The Letters Part 2

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You and Remus decide to write home and tell your families about your relationship Warnings: N/A Series Masterlist | Part 1

A letter arrives for you, the owl swooping low in your room before dropping the parchment into your waiting hands. It's from your mother, her looping script familiar and comforting. Her words are a balm to your soul, offering understanding and love where you feared there might be judgement.

"Dearest," she begins, "I hope this finds you well, or as well as can be expected."

There it is—the unspoken acknowledgement of your fragile health, the concern that hovers in every line. She knows how much energy each day requires, even without the added complexities of navigating not one but three relationships.

"But I must admit," she continues, "when we received your last letter...well, we were surprised, to say the least." You imagine your father’s brows knitting together as he read your confession, your mother’s hand rising to cover her mouth. But you know them both—there would have been no shouts of outrage, only quiet contemplation, questions asked softly under the glow of the kitchen light.

"Now, don't get me wrong, my darling. Your father and I want nothing more than your happiness, and if these boys bring you joy, then who are we to stand in the way? But we worry about what this might mean for your health. You've always had to carry burdens beyond your years; will this not add another?"

You pause, folding the letter gently across your lap. Of course they'd ask about that—they understand, perhaps better than anyone, the toll your condition takes on you. They remember the hospital visits, the countless tests and scans, the nights spent holding you while pain wracked your small body. They’ve seen you at your weakest, watched helplessly as illness stole away bits of your childhood. So yes, they would wonder how Remus, James, Sirius factor into all this. Do they ease your suffering or compound it?

"I hope they're looking out for you, love," her letter goes on, "especially on those hard days when getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain. Are they patient? Kind? Do they give you space when you need it most? Or does having three partners simply mean triple the worry, the arguments, the heartache?"

It's a fair question, one you've asked yourself during sleepless nights, your mind spinning with thoughts of what lies ahead. Will they grow weary of your limitations? Will they come to resent the time and energy your care demands? But then you remember Remus’ soothing voice reading to you, James’ gentle touch as he adjusts your pillows, Sirius’ easy humour lifting your spirits—and you know those fears, while valid, may not reflect reality.

"Maybe,” your mother’s words continue, “this isn’t what we envisioned for you, but life has a habit of surprising us, which you have done since the day you were born so why would you stop now?”

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards, a faint smile breaking through your clouded thoughts. That’s just like her, finding the silver lining, the shared joke amidst the confusion and uncertainty. And despite everything, you feel grateful—for her openness, her willingness to step outside tradition and consider a different path for you. For her unwavering love.

“We’ll discuss this more when you’re home,” she concludes. “And I’ll need to speak to these boys myself—just to make sure they know how special you are. I’m sure Remus knows, but I’ve never met James and Sirius so they need telling.”

Another owl swoops through the open window, wings barely rustling against the thick drapes. This time it's a small barn owl with speckled feathers that glint in the dim light of the bedroom. It lands gracefully on the back of Remus's chair, extending its leg to reveal a second parchment.

"Looks like this one's for you, Moony," James says, untangling the letter and handing it over. Your gaze flickers from the owl now preening itself to Remus, who takes the parchment with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. You remember your own hesitations just moments before—the fluttering pulse, the dryness at the back of your throat—and reach out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"Dear Remus," his mother's response begins, "I received your letter and have given it much thought. You know I've always been one for details, so forgive me if this runs long."

Remus chuckles, a soft sound that ripples through the silence of the room like a pebble dropped into still water. He knows all too well her propensity for thoroughness—countless times he's sat at their small kitchen table, listening to her dissect every nuance of an article or analyse a book down to its last metaphor. It's part of what makes her such a good listener, why he's always felt understood in ways others often missed.

"I find myself surprised," she continues, "but not because you're dating a third person—I suppose stranger things have happened. No, my dear son, what truly astounds me is that it took you this long to admit your feelings for Y/N." There’s a playfulness to her words, a gentle teasing familiar and warm.

His cheeks flush slightly as he glances at you, wondering if the same thought had crossed your mind. Have there been moments, lost now in the haze of memory, when either of you could have reached across the divide sooner? Had fear kept you both silent, each waiting for the other to make the first move?

"And don't think I haven't noticed the way you light up whenever she's mentioned," she adds, as if reading his thoughts from miles away. Her handwriting is neat, each stroke precise—a stark contrast to the chaos usually surrounding his life at school.

"But let us focus on the present," she writes, shifting gears. "It seems we have much to discuss and unpack here, but rest assured, your father and I will support you in whatever way we can."

He lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Those words—simple yet filled with meaning—ease a tension within him that's been coiling tighter since the moment he decided to write his parents. Support. That's what he needs right now, more than anything. And though questions still loom large, knowing he's not alone in facing them is a comfort he clings to.

"As for Y/N…" His eyes skim over the next few lines, heart skipping a beat. "I spoke with her mother earlier today, after reading your letter. We had a rather… enlightening chat about everything."

You look up at that, catching Remus's eye. Both your expressions mirror a mixture of relief and mild horror. The idea of your mothers discussing your love lives—an intimate tapestry woven of secrets and shared looks—is enough to make anyone squirm.

"Enlightening?" Sirius repeats, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous."

"We expected as much," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "Still, it's mortifying to think about."

The parchment rustles as Remus turns it over, his mother's words continuing in a more serious tone. "I know the fears that gnaw at you," she writes. "It's no accident I've noticed how you flinch when happiness finds you, how quickly you look for shadows where there should be only light."

His hand tightens around the letter, creasing its edges. It was true. Every joy seemed fleeting when set against the permanence of his condition, every moment of peace merely the quiet before another storm. But here she was, acknowledging those fears and meeting them with understanding rather than judgment.

"You wonder if you're deserving of love given your circumstances—of their love," her script meanders down the page, each word imbued with a tenderness that makes his breath hitch. "But remember, my dear boy, love isn't something to be earned or measured by what we believe we owe. You have every right to it, especially from those who see past the complexities that life has bestowed upon you."

He swallows hard, feeling the weight of those words settle deep within him. They seep into the cracks of self-doubt that have long since formed, like rain nourishing parched earth. And though he knows one letter can't erase years of fear and loathing, it's a start—a glimmer of hope amidst the dark.

"Take care of yourself, Remus," the note goes on, a gentle nudge wrapped in ink and paper. "And take care of them too." A pause lingers between sentences, almost palpable despite the distance. "They may not bear physical scars, but they carry burdens just as heavy."

His gaze lifts from the page, finding yours across the room. There's an unspoken agreement in that brief exchange—you both understand what it means to shoulder invisible weights, to smile through pain others can't fathom. And in that shared knowledge, there's a kind of solace, a silent promise to hold each other up even when the ground beneath threatens to give way.

"I imagine it wasn't easy, opening up about this part of your world—the part we've kept hidden so long out of necessity and fear." The handwriting becomes slightly shaky here, betraying an emotion she rarely allows to surface. "Yet you did it, and for that, I am incredibly proud."

Remus blinks, surprised by the sudden sting behind his eyes. Proud. It's been ages since he last heard that word directed at him without irony or pity. To hear it now, applied to the very thing he's spent most of his life fearing, feels like a balm on old wounds.

"And don't worry about Y/N's parents," the next line reads. "From our conversation, it seems they are trying their best to navigate these waters just as we are."

At this, he exhales slowly, relief washing over him like a warm tide. That's one less concern weighing on his already burdened shoulders. He scans the remaining lines, each sentence weaving a thread of reassurance through the fabric of his uncertainty.

The tone of the letters from both families is, perhaps predictably, a mix of concern and relief. But there's also a note of something else—something akin to gratitude—that hums beneath each carefully chosen word.

In the ensuing silence, the magnitude of what you've done begins to sink in. The letters are out, the responses tucked safely inside your robes, and reality is settling back around you like a familiar cloak. It isn't perfect—the edges still fray with uncertainty, and the fabric is heavy with implications—but it's tangible, undeniable proof that you're no longer alone in this fight.

You exchange a glance with Remus across the room, his eyes reflecting the same quiet resolve. There is no going back now, no erasing the words that have etched new paths before you. But whatever lies ahead, you realise, you'll face it with the strength of family at your backs and love as your compass.

#Poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfic

11 notes · View notes

evansbby · 1 year ago

Text

*POYT 5 UPDATE* + some general chit chat lol

lmfao at the way I thought I could contain this beast of a fic under 30k words. I’m at 29k words rn and still have 1.5 scenes left to write plus the epilogue… so it’s safe to say it’ll be longer than 30k words.

Also if anything has made me doubt my writing, it’s this fic. I just… I want it to live up to expectations so bad that I keep going back and editing it. And that’s made me hate parts of it and I panic bc I don’t want to change it but then I do but then I don’t and I just… UGH! I just want to be 1000% happy with it but I feel like that’s impossible at this point.

One thing I hate about my writing is the way I just go on and on and there’s so much unnecessary preamble, so I always go back and try and edit all that out. Like delete all the random extra wording I use and just try and get to the point faster. But then even that’s hard bc every single thing I’ve written in poyt 5 is just so relevant to the story!

Now I have so many doubts bc maybe I should’ve split it into two parts, maybe I should’ve changed the plot and done it different and I just… IT’S TOO LATE TO CHANGE IT and honestly I’m happy with my original plot but I’m also scared of how it’ll be perceived. Bc I remember a few people were critical of the Bucky spin-off and like… with how much effort I’ve put into this 30+k fic, I think I’d actually cryyyy if people perceived it badly.

BUT THEN the rational part of my head is reassuring me that it’ll be fine… that I’ve genuinely worked so hard on it that it can’t actually be as bad as I sometimes think it is. Bc I’ll read it and not think it’s “epic” enough to be a fitting conclusion but like… this isn’t GOT we’re talking about it’s just POYT 🥲😂 and POYT isn’t meant to be epic, it’s meant to be heartwrenching and sad and emotional… which I think it is!!

Ultimately, I’ve stayed true to my original idea. Of course I’ve made minor changes along the way (plus one huge major change to the ending that I had originally envisioned but we’ll discuss that once the chapter is out heheh). BUT YEAH, this is all just mindless mind chatter and insecurities and I’m just writing it all down bc it’s better to get your feelings out isn’t it…

I guess my worst fear is people saying that the fic was draggy, that it got too tedious and long for them, that it got boring halfway through, that it wasn’t what they thought it was going to be, that I let them down, that i bit off more than I could chew and now I haven’t given them a satisfactory conclusion. And I honestly don’t know how I’d defend myself to all this criticism if I got it bc I genuinely tried my best.

But let’s also remember that I started writing this fic back in January. And other writers know that when we reread our work we always want to change it or tweak it or in hindsight we know we could’ve written it better. And I HAVE tweaked it since then and rewritten and edited and all that… but I’ve kept the plot bc I have faith in it… this is the story I want to tell.

And I realise that writing all this is kind of insane and I know people are side eying me and rolling their eyes but guys I’m just putting my emotions down and I’m genuinely scared. I’ve always said that whenever I post a new chapter of poyt, it’s insane the way my heart beats and my palms get sweaty like I SWEAR to you I have a whole ass panic attack each time I post but it’s always vindicated by the amazing feedback so it’s a win win

HONESLTG reading over this word vomit I feel like I sound insane but genuinely I’m just trying to get my thoughts down. I guess I’m just super insecure about this last chapter but honestly, anyone in my position would be?? Right??? I just hope you guys love it. And the characters are believable and you think the writing is good

Okay I’ll stop now byeee

#my thoughts 💭

37 notes · View notes

kinkandkreep · 2 years ago

Text

Connor Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:ton Headcanons: As a Father

A/N: Hey hey y’all! So, as most of you may know by now, for the past week or so Ratonhnhaké:ton a.k.a Connor Kenway, the protagonist from Assassin’s Creed 3, has completely occupied my mind. Like I’m serious, it’s been exactly one (1) thought, head full of him. So, to help flush some of this fixation out of my system, I’ve taken to writing a shit ton of headcanons for him, all different au’s and themes. Today, we’ll be looking at what I envision Connor to be like as a father. Canonically, he has three (3) children, two daughters and a son. We never, however, get to see more of what he’s like as a dad, so that’s where I step in! 😁 FAIR WARNING: These are more so a combination of Modern and Canonical headcanons since I took inspiration from how I imagine Connor would behave in both timelines. With that being said, I hope you guys enjoy! And please feel free to send me any Connor related asks or requests you may have. I’d love to write more for him and interact more with my fellow Con-Con man lovers.

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway as a Father Headcanons

Before I say anything else, and go into any detail, let me make something abundantly clear

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway is an amazing father

He’s doting yet firm, protective but not overbearing

He’s attentive and accommodating, but not to the point of pandering and being spineless

He knows how to be gentle with his children, even from the time they’re infants and he gets to hold them for the first time

Speaking of…

The first time Connor gets to hold his child, his eyes water up like super hard

He only notices, as entranced as he is by his baby, because his picture of them becomes blurry

He’s afraid his tears will drop on his baby and startle them, so he quickly yet carefully hands her back to his wife and wipes the tears, which have now begun trickling down his face, before immediately, quietly asking for permission to hold his child again

(His wife, in her exhaustion and recovering from the sudden rush of adrenaline, thinks it’s funny and sweet that he thought to ask for permission)

Ratonhnhaké:ton never ceases to be amazed, even as the number of times his wife gives birth increases and, subsequently, the number of his children grows

He’s just as astonished the third time as he was the first

As I mentioned in some of my previous Connor-canons, he’s always desired to be a father and have a family

(I mean personally, before the comic came out, I wouldn’t have thought he necessarily wanted such a big family, but the fact that he apparently did positively warms my heart 😭)

Even years later, he still feels regret about the way things played out between him and his own father, and the more he contemplated why Haytham behaved in the way that he did, Connor has deduced that perhaps Haytham’s relationship with his dad wasn’t the greatest either, and that affected him to a degree

(That’s by no means meant to excuse or justify what Haytham did, but I thought it was worth mentioning)

He knows he can’t ever know the answer for certain, but with this speculation, Connor decided that he would do his utmost to be a good father to his children, regardless of what path they chose and what differences may have existed between them

We all know that Ratonhnhaké:ton can very easily become a papa bear when the situation calls for it, and he’s very unafraid of puttin’ the smackdown on people who would overstep their boundaries

This behavior is increased tenfold once he becomes a father

Now he really is a papa bear, and anyone who would try to harm his children in any way will be dealt with. Swiftly.

On the flipside of that however, Connor also knows that he shouldn’t coddle his kids, and that eventually they’ll have to learn to defend themselves

So, he does the obvious thing and covertly teaches them some of the fighting and self-defense techniques he learned as an Assassin 😁

It’s not full out Assassin training (outside of Io:nhiòte, who of course possesses the OG eagle vision) and he tries to keep it on the dl from his wife (who eventually finds out anyway and scolds him but nevertheless allows him to continue 🙃)

Connor and all three of his children really enjoy flapjacks (yes, flapjacks not pancakes)

I imagine that Connor and his family live in the manor and so the children each have their own rooms

They’re each responsible for the upkeep of said room once they are of age, and Connor teaches them the importance of cleanliness, in all aspects

He also teaches them respect, even to the animals who provide their food and fur/skins

When his children inevitably inquire about what it is Connor does since he wears those special robes, he decides to be completely upfront and honest with them, when they are old enough

Prior to that, he tells them a watered-down version of the story, saying things like “I help others and make bad people go away” or even jokingly implying or outright stating that he belongs to a secret brotherhood who helps people and punishes those who misbehave

(When the kids are younger, they eat his stories up, so fascinated and intrigued they are with whatever it is their dad does)

I feel that Io:nhiòte is the most excitable of Connor’s kids; she’s still a polite, well-spoken girl but just a little more headstrong than her siblings

I also feel that Connor’s son, which I believe is his second eldest child, is like him and has a very calm (almost more so than his father), even temperament

He, again like his father, is soft-spoken and kind, and also very intelligent: he adapts and learns very quickly

Connor’s oldest, who I believe is his other daughter, is very confident and much like her mother

She is also well-mannered and independent, not liking to rely on others for much, if anything, one trait she did inherit from her dad

She takes pride in being the eldest, and always tries to lead and set a good example for her siblings

Even with their similarities though, Connor still has had to learn to adapt his attitude and responses when engaging each of his children

He laughs at the thought, as coming to understand and subsequently better communicate with his kids reminds him of his early days of assassin training, the more mentally taxing work he had to put in

It also sometimes saddens him when he thinks about how his own father could never quite figure out how to do the same

But, all in all, Connor is just grateful that he can make a positive difference as it relates to his own relationship with his kids

Rapid Fire Round!

Connor and Io:nhiòte have their own secret language that they use when out training

(It’s mostly vocalizations and hand signals, not so much actual words)

Connor likes to have special little inside jokes with his kids, and they each have either a hand signal or handshake that is unique to them

Ratonhnhaké:ton isn’t usually one to cry at all, but he definitely sheds tears whenever any one of his kids reaches a milestone

(Like he might not outright sob but a few little diamonds surely make their way down his cheeks 😂)

When they’re little, Connor’s kids love to play in his hair (which I imagine he lets grow out a considerable amount once he’s settled down) and he’s more than happy to let them

Loves to make their birthdays celebrations for the whole of the Homestead and his wife’s village as well

When he’s at home and the babies are…well babies, Connor oft volunteers to supervise his, Myriam/Norris and Warren/Prudence’s kid’s playdates

I didn’t mention this in my general headcanons for Con-Con man but I actually believe he knows how to cook, and for this particular set of headcanons he does so pretty frequently for his kids, as they’re big fans of his cooking

Connor loves to give his kids piggyback rides; his son and Io:nhiòte are particularly big fans

When the children are little, Connor hums to them to help them sleep at night

(His wife likes to tease him about how nice his voice is and Connor is always flustered at the compliment)

All-in-all, Connor is an excellent father, and is more than willing to give his kids the world 😁

#connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #ac3 #assassin's creed 3 #connor kenway headcanons #ratonhnhaké:ton headcanons

84 notes · View notes

garbinge · 2 years ago

Text

Minimum Wage

Nestor Oceteva x F!Galindo!Reader

Day 02 these April Prompts: “Minimum Wage”

Summary: You left the Galindo name and life behind, but it always seems to come back after you.

A/N: Just something short, there’s something so intriguing to me about a Galindo sister who just ~hates~ the family business.

Word Count: 1.4k words

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angsty, very angsty.

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini (Not sure how many individual Mayans fics i’ll have in the future but happy to add anyone to any potential future fics!)

Part 2

“Come on, can I please drive you home?” Nestor pleaded with you as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the run down diner in his slacks and suit jacket.

“I told you, that’s not my home.” You said as you passed him with two plates in your hand.

Carefully, you placed them on the table farthest from the door and asked if they needed anything else, taking out your guest check ready to take notes. After writing down their updated drink order you retreated back behind the counter and poured two more cups of coffee.

“I have strict orders to not leave until I get you to agree to come home.” Nestor was now a step or two closer to the counter now.

“Well, you better make yourself comfortable because my shift isn’t over for another 2 hours.”

Your eyes didn’t even bother to meet him as you said it, but you took one of the coffees you just poured and left it on the third seat from the corner on the diner counter for him before you moved to take more orders.

The lunch rush died down, with only a few minutes left of your shift, you made your way back to Nestor, pouring him what was probably his 3rd cup of coffee since being here.

“I’m not coming home.” You said as the liquid poured.

“I know.” Nestor said nodding and not making eye contact with you.

Your eyes jumped from the mug to his eyes. His hair had grown a little since you last saw him, his grip was firm around the coffee mug, you took in his outfit fully, you never envisioned Nestor like this, that it would ever get to this point.

Being Miguel’s younger sister, you grew up with Nestor. While Miquel would hang out with the eldest Oceteva, you would be stuck with the younger, both of the big brothers being forced to bring the younger siblings with them. Over time your relationship evolved from being stuck with Nestor to actually enjoying your time together. You started hanging out more on your own, you invited him over and you’d hang out for hours, sometimes days if your dad was out of town.

It was sickening to you, to see how much things changed again. Nestor always felt like yours. Not in a possessive way but in a way that only you knew him, his secrets, his flaws, his mannerisms, his favorite things, his pet peeves. That was all information that only you knew, and now there was a whole new set of secrets, of flaws, of mannerisms that Miguel knew and you didn’t. That broke you.

“Then why are you here?” You asked him genuinely. You believed that he truthfully knew there was no chance he was going to be bringing you home. Because just like he felt like yours for all those ways you knew him, you felt like his for the same reasons.

You left home the minute you turned 18, similar to how Nestor fled to the Navy, you fled to here. You got a minimum wage job, a few of them, and made it work. You had a decent place, you paid your bills, you changed your name, completely separated yourself from the Galindo business. It came as a shock when you heard Nestor had done the complete opposite as you when he returned from the Navy. You had written him letters, you two talked frequently, and he never mentioned once about his plans for after. He just stopped writing. Then showed up to the diner one night very similarly to how he did now.

“To see you.” His eyes now met yours. That look, it broke you. It was hard to stare at him and really look at him, it reminded you of everything you could have had, everything that was supposed to be yours but was robbed by his decision to go neck deep into the Galindo Cartel, by your brother who was dragging him in even deeper.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Your words left your mouth before you could think. “What’s the point of this, Nestor? I’m not coming home, you’re not leaving. Why put ourselves through this shit.”

“Because I miss you.” He said without hesitation.

It sounded like a pick up line, but you knew it wasn’t. Nestor wasn’t going to play a game with you, things were too complicated for that. If he wanted a quick fuck he could get that easily, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, he had access to money if it really was finding itself to be a difficult task but you knew that wasn’t what he was here for.

“I miss you too.” You closed your eyes before turning and putting the coffee pot back. “But this, this isn’t going to help anyone.”

“I don’t care about anyone. I care about you.” Nestor had planned this out, he didn’t come here on a whim, it was on Miguel’s orders, yes, but he didn’t come here without thinking through his words. It was something the Nestor you grew up with never did, but Navy Nestor always did. With every letter he sent you, there was thought, intention, the service matured him in a way that your pining over him turned from a childhood crush to the man you wanted to marry. The man you knew would be a good husband. Protective. Funny. Thoughtful. Smart. Aware. But he took all those traits and gave them to Miguel instead.

“You care about Miguel.”

“And you don’t?” He retorted back to you.

“He’s my big brother. Of course I do, but I can’t spend my time worrying about him–caring about him, he made his choice just like I did.” You lifted your hands up in defeat.

“You work minimum wage at 4 jobs.” Nestor didn’t mean for it to come out harsh but it did, he just meant to put things into perspective for you. And he did.

“And yet, I’m happier than I ever was then.” Your words also didn’t mean to come out harsh but, it did.

“You gave up everything.” Nestor phrased it weirdly, it wasn’t so much a statement but it wasn’t so much a question either, somewhere in the middle of both.

“Yea, you did.” You said staring deep into his eyes.

It got silent, things got tense while you took a deep breath and kicked off the counter behind you.

“In another life, maybe we chose each other.” You hoped the statement offered some type of closure, you knew if you didn’t end this now it would never stop. “But in this one, we made our choices clear and we have to live with that.”

Nestor nodded, he stood up from the seat and reached to his back pocket for his wallet.

You lifted your hand up and shook your head. “On me.”

Nestor hesitated, it didn’t feel right but he also knew it was barely a dollar worth of coffee so he nodded and turned to exit the diner. The bells from the door jingled as he opened it, the breeze hit you along with the realization of the situation.

“Nes.” You called out his nickname as he turned to look at you. “I wish things were different.” You wanted to leave him with some kind of peace, but deep down you knew it was also for you too.

“Me too.” He nodded his hand still keeping the door open. “I’ll see you.”

With that he closed the door, letting his hands fall into his pockets while he retreated to his black escalade that was parked in the lot.

Your eyes looked down behind the counter, where your duffel bag sat, packed with all the things you needed to start new again. Having your own life where your brother knew where to find you wasn’t ideal anymore, you couldn’t live with one leg still connected to the Galindo family, so you knew this was the best thing moving forward. You’d find new jobs, you already had one lined up, it was a promotion too, not a minimum wage gig but something that paid more and was way more stable with the hours. The life you wished you would have had with him, but you were going to make for yourself at least.

“No,” You shook your head as you mumbled under your breath. “You won’t.”

Part 2

#mayans mc #mayans fx #nestor oceteva #nestor x reader #nestor x galindo!reader #galindo!reader #galindo reader #galindo sister #nestor oceteva x reader #angst

105 notes · View notes

gothamsaved · 3 months ago

Text

` 1. What is your favorite trope to rp?

[ … ] I am a big fan of any potentially angsty tropes. Ones like life or death situations that force the unlikeliest of people to rely upon one another to form a closeness that would not have existed without such extremes / external circumstances. Generally any plot where a deep relationship can be built between characters for better or worse, definitely is one I love.

If done well, it can provide a very good opportunity for both writers to explore their muses in a high emotion, high stress moment. The impact of it can carry into future threads, especially if it’s been built up towards or has been hinted at in the past. When it’s well plotted, it gives so much potential to explore a lot of different aspects of a character. It’s great for romantic, platonic, antagonistic tensions, &&. it can provide the chance to change an entire dynamic depending on how muses react to what’s happening. MWAH.

` 6. Name 3 things you love most about your muse/muses.

[ … ] Scrambled, but... Ultimately? Bruce’s love of humanity &&. his surprising optimism regarding it, his stubborn compassion that gets looked down on as naïve. How despite the seemingly endless displays of darkness he faces &&. finds, he is so set in finding the good that casts the shadows it hides inside. You can’t have darkness without light, it’s always there, always a part of it. He believes no one is born a monster or beyond saving — they’re made, shaped &&. formed through the traumatic trials they’ve faced. But that with enough effort it can be reversed.

He understands better than anyone else that all it can take is a single bad day to completely turn your world on its head, can make or break a man depending on how close to the edge they’ve been pushed already — he himself is a result of it. He wants to help. I just truly do adore his stubborn, bloody grit teeth optimism. It’s born from his own experience being exposed to the horrors &&. despite the occasionally brutal, occasionally flawed methods he will use to handle some situations, it’s his subtle &&. guarded empathy regarding those within Gotham that I adore. His violence in attempting to tame it, his relentless fight to try saving what others feel is nothing more than a dying City, a lost cause — there’s always a choice.

His is to save his home regardless of how hopeless it feels.

` 7. What is one overrated roleplay trend?

[ … ] Over formatted replies. It’s not a huge problem for me personally right now, but I do have issues with reading some over formatted replies, especially when I would get them from others in the past. The aesthetic of it is absolutely gorgeous, don’t get me wrong. I greatly admire those that can pull it off.

I understand there comes a lot of extra steps from picking fonts to adding &&. selecting complimenting colours to really tie the entire response together in an artful display, but I don’t know how else to word it outside of… if there’s an excessive amount of breaks in some text via font change or bright harsh colours, it throws me completely out of a scene I’m attempting to get invested in because my goldfish brain sees the sudden change &&. then fixates on that over the plot I was envisioning &&. then I have to reread it over again.

It’s so nitpicky, I know, it frustrates me endlessly because of how a written flow for me can easily be disturbed. Just to reiterate, it’s a thing I do adore seeing, but if I am writing against it, it makes it hard for me to reply at times so I usually ask people if it’s possible to tone it down with our threads. Other than that, that's about the only thing to come to mind regarding rp trends.

` 13. Is there one trope you can’t stand?

[ … ] I think… for this not much really comes to mind as I am usually open to trying new things so long as they are discussed beforehand in private. I guess cheating as far as plot tropes go in rp threads or unnecessarily complicated love triangles. Simply put it cuts too close to home. I don’t mind people that do enjoy writing it, but for me that’s probably the one thing I’ll outright refuse or avoid to write for personal reasons.

` 18. What is one thing you’d wish to see more in the rp community?

[ … ] This is an active issue in a lot of rpcs from what I have seen so far &&. I know I am also very guilty of this on my end — but just people being more active in poking eachother, anxiety be damned. I guess simply put, community support? Or rpc activity coming back again to where mutuals will actively hype one another easily, tag eachother in dashgames, aren’t afraid to kick in dms to screech about possible plots or rp replies. I am definitely guilty of this myself ( I am the worst with keeping in touch ooc because of irl issues right now &&. stress ).

A positive here, is I haven’t seen much of this in some rpc spaces as of late. They sometimes tend to come off as a little cliquey especially in recent years so it makes it hard to stay active when you just don’t feel wanted, you know? But I am very happy to report since attempting to be more active rp wise lately, the new faces I’ve seen on dash, the mutuals made — people have been insanely welcoming again. It’s been nice to see that supportive willingness to interact &&. be so openly friendly. I have been writing for a few years now, &&. it’s so nice to finally see a hint of that old wholesome vibe I used to notice back in the day making a comeback again.

` 20. Do you need music/noise to write or do you prefer silence?

[ … ] I will always need music to answer things. It helps me focus on a reply, &&. it gives me better chances of envisioning a reply scene more vividly than if I tried to answer with silence in the background. Muse playlists are a life saver!

` ❛ TRANSMISSION RECEIVED ˒﹚) [☎︎] … incoming from @chaoticjoke ↳ Oookay 🗣️

#' ◁ ılı||ılı ▷ … ¹². 𝙰𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 #' ◁ ılı||ılı ▷ … ¹¹. 𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝙾𝚏 𝙱𝚊𝚝𝚜 🦇#chaoticjoke #Ty for sending it in— sorry it took so long to answer ahaha #longpost tw

2 notes · View notes

shootingmorningstar · 8 months ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if I could maybe perhaps have a match-up? 👉👈 Appearance: Female, (She/Her/They,) very long curly hair! very soft, very bouncy, very thick, like a sheep!, skinny as a stick and physically weak, have a baby face and I hate it so much..don't know if any of this matters or helps but!

Personality: (idk if you like zodiac or if it helps you at all either, but i’m a Gemini Sun, Aquarius Moon, Virgo Rising!)

I’m generally a very quiet and reserved person, especially during first impressions! I’m kind of a shy and anxious lurking shadow who assumes the worst until I get a good enough feel of a person, you know? Then I'm comfortable popping in!

I tend to gravitate towards being "Designated Mom Friend" or "Big Sister Friend?" I love being able to make others feel better about themselves or to help them out. Maybe it’s because of some rough stuff in my past, but I never want anyone to feel similar to the ways I have. If you hurt someone I care about, I am never going like you. But if you hurt me? Eh..it’s not really new? I’m kind of..soft? I cry very easily, be it happy or sad, and it frustrates me! I’m not a soft and squishy person !..okay yes I am but I’m also trying super hard to be the shoulder people can lean on if they need me! Growing a backbone is a work in progress, and sometimes I worry I come off too harsh or mean when I actually use it. A friend once described me like glass; it’s fragile, but a broken piece can still really mess you up, you know? Glass-ness aside, my sense of humor is honestly very dry and sarcastic and you probably wouldn’t expect it out of me! I can get kind of angry over petty things and sort of clingy, but I’ll be fine after some time to let it all pass.

I like playing crocheting and sewing, drawing and writing, and reading tarot cards! I like doing things alone, really, but I love the company of others when they want me to join in. Because it does indeed get lonely being alone sometimes!

I have some really gross depression bouts and lots of anxiety disorders that I do my best to juggle, but, sometimes I just have to shut down for a bit and sleep.

Values: Someone who can make me smile when I’m really having a hard time! I guess that sounds a little silly, but even something small to distract me from my thoughts is huge. Loyalty also? Admittedly I get kind of jealous and clingy when people I like hang around others too much..especially if I don’t like those others. I also really like um..acts of service I guess it is? Little things matter to me most!

NOPES: People who takes themselves too seriously. Disinterest/poking fun at in my hobbies or insecurities. Being completely babied/not letting me try to grow. Making assumptions based on appearance or first impressions alone.

OH- I'm Demi with a male preference? Is this enough to work with? Hopefully so, thanks again!

-🐑

Of course you can, anon .ᐟ Don't worry, this is more than enough. I love the details, it really helps me be able to envision a matchup .ᐟ

Anon, I'm matching you with . . .

Sir Pentious .ᐟ

From what I understand about you, it seems like you really need somebody loyal and willing to make you happy, to cheer you up through the times where you're not feeling your greatest, and who's more loyal than Sir Pentious .ᐣ He's the first sinner soul to ever make it to Heaven, and for good reason .ᐟ He is devoted to his cause and the people around him, and your mom friend like behavior would endear you to him.

Not to mention he already seems to be fond of the sarcastic type .ᐟ I think he would absolutely adore your sense of humor. Snakes are typically solitary creatures, so your more reserved nature would really strike a chord with him. You mentioned your long hair .ᐣ He would love to comb it out for you. He has to be really gentle with his scales so I think he could sort of relate in that scenario. Sew or crochet him his Egg Bois some sweaters and he will be absolutely over the moon. Maybe you could help him fix Alastor's coat to make amends .ᐣ Either way, I think he would be a great match for you .ᐟ

#matchups #hazbin hotel #admin kitty #sir pentious

2 notes · View notes

kensboytoy · 1 year ago

Text

I’m Your Tamagotchi (Ch. 1)

Title: I’m Your Tamagotchi Fandom: Barbie (2023) Pairings: Ken/Original Character (M/M) Ratings: General Chapter: 1/? A/N: This is a very self-indulgent piece! It'll be several chapters and I'll be updating it a lot more when the movie comes out. If you want to listen to the playlist I made to write this, you can find it here.

Another perfect day in Barbie Land, just like it always was. All the residents went about their perfect lives as it was always so well-rehearsed. The Barbies all had very important jobs to do after all. Some were doctors, others were lawyers, and some were even politicians. Every important job was assigned to each Barbie to perform. And the Kens? Well…

Most of the Kens on the beach had been muttering to themselves, quietly daring each other to check out the source of the strange sound coming from the lighthouse they had been hearing all afternoon. It was a shrill and intense beeping that seemed to strike at random, making each and every one of them jump out of their skin in fright. They all postured and tried to act tough, stating that they weren’t that afraid of some silly noise. But someone should definitely check on it before the Barbies noticed. So they wouldn’t get scared, of course. No one had ever exactly gone up to the cliff where the pink and white striped lighthouse sat - there was never a reason for them to venture anywhere outside of the warm, sandy comfort of the beach.

Ken had been waxing his surfboard, eavesdropping on the conversation the entire time and scoffing at the cowardice of the other Kens. It was just a stupid sound, why were they getting so worked up? Maybe the lighthouse just… did that? Ken wasn’t exactly sure what noises lighthouses were supposed to make, his job wasn’t lighthouse keeper - was anyone actually designed with that in mind? - it was just beach. And because his job was beach, he felt a sense of responsibility to go up there and turn the noise off. It was getting annoying anyway.

[Continue Reading or Read on AO3!]

He propped up his surfboard in the sand and tossed the canister of wax aside, slinging his towel over his shoulder. The hike to the cliff was a breeze for Ken, the doll taking long strides as he grew closer to the lighthouse despite the sound becoming louder and louder. It was just the echo, that was it. It totally wasn’t a super scary monster about to lure him into a trap. Ken could feel a pang of nervousness rush through him at the thought, but the stubborn toy quickly pushed the thought aside. He’d be the hero that would keep Barbie safe. Maybe, if she saw how brave he was, it would earn him a proper kiss. A dopey smile stretched across his face, a toned hand reaching up to his cheek to where he envisioned Barbie planting her lips. Yes, he’d be a hero!

Without even realizing it, Ken was already at the entrance of the lighthouse as he walked through his picture perfect daydream. He stopped in his tracks, blinking a few times before he craned his neck upwards to properly stare at the looming structure. From the beach it didn’t look big, but up close? Well, he just hoped he didn’t have to go to the tippy-top to find this noise. Totally not because he was afraid of heights or anything. That would be silly. No, he had just… hit his steps for the day and didn’t want to go over them! It would be totally humiliating to the other Kens if they knew how hard he was working out for this.

As if the building sensed him, the old door swung open to greet him and nearly made Ken jump out of his plastic skin. This was weird. Like really weird. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside before taking a tentative step forward. The sudden sound from earlier pierced the eerie silence of the lighthouse. Ken frantically looked around for the source until the sound tapered off and faded completely. He used the light from the open door to peer around as best he could, but there was nothing there.

When he took another step forward, his foot brushed against something and sent it skittering across the floor before he could process it. There was a small thunk! as whatever it was impacted against the spiral staircase that led up to the actual light room itself. Another beep like the object had been startled by the movement. It was enough for Ken to find out where it had landed, his hand reaching out for it without a thought to stop himself.

Luckily, it wasn't anything dangerous or that would poke him like a pissed off pufferfish. It was a small plastic toy from the looks of it. A UFO shaped toy with little green buttons on the front. Ken stared at it for a moment, fingers ghosting over the left and right buttons. He pressed them down immediately with pure curiosity guiding him. There was a flash on the screen that startled him but then it quickly faded. He pushed down for longer, the same flash happening before a pixelated ghost popped onto the screen.

The device went dead for a moment before the speakers crackled to life once again. Instead of a shrill beep, there was a playful little melody that played before the screen was filled with solid black pixels. As the song played, each row of pixels danced off-screen to slowly reveal a silhouette of a figure. Ken leaned in closer, furrowing his brows in confusion. The song ended and the figure came to full view - it was a chubby little… alien? He looked like a little nerd, with curly hair, huge circle rimmed glasses and a funny little mustache, but there were clearly alien antennae sticking out of the mop of hair. The alien blinked at Ken before his face broke out in a wide smile.

“Wowee! Golly, I was starting to think my battery was gonna die before anyone found me,” the almost cartoonish voice chirped from the speaker.

Startled, Ken stumbled backwards and nearly tossed the device out of his hand. That… wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

“Woah! Easy, fella, I can’t exactly bitecha.”

The alien giggled as Ken adjusted himself. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool like he hadn't just nearly screamed like a little girl.

“I guess you can’t. I’ve just… never seen something like you before.”

“And I’ve never seen someone like you before, Master!”

Ken stared at the device in confusion. Master? He could feel butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. No one had ever called him something like that before. It was so fancy and formal - far from what he was used to.

“Me?” he inquired, pointing to himself.

The device beeped again, the alien soon giggling once more. It seemed that the shocked face Ken was giving off was rather amusing to the curious creature.

“Of course! You saved me, after all. So you must be my new Master! The last one kinda dropped me in this playset, and, well… you saved me.”

If Ken could blush, he would have. Instead, he let a goofy smile stretch across his face.

“I guess I did kinda save you. I am brave like that.”

He flexed proudly, something he often did to show off. His confidence rivaled the big ego that was already starting to over-inflate. Apparently it was an amusing display that made his new companion laugh in pure delight. Ken's brow shot upwards as he turned his attention back to the screen. The alien was still beaming at him, pixelated stars in his eyes that rotated around and around. He wasn't mocking Ken? Did he actually think that Ken was cool?

"Super rad! I don't think anyone who's ever held me has been that cool or brave, y'know. Really must be my lucky day!"

"How many people have held you?" Ken asked, already sounding a bit jealous.

The alien paused, tapping his hand to his head.

"Y'know, 'm not sure."

He flashed another smile up at Ken, obviously pretty clueless himself. After a few moments of silence, Ken spoke up.

"So what do I call you? Alien dude?"

"Oh! Oz is my name. Short for Oswald. I think it's a poorly themed Roswell joke of some kind, but my programming isn't advanced enough to understand it." Oz shrugged. "It says it right on my label!"

Ken tilted his head to one side and studied the cheap plastic casing of Oz's UFO home. There were some faded stickers of where lights would be if he was a more expensive toy, but the doll wasn't seeing anything. Oz gestured to flip him over, which Ken did carefully as he wondered if Oz could feel the sensation (or any at all) of being rotated. Sure enough, on the back, was a label in a neon green font with Oz's name. The engraving with the copyright information was puzzling to Ken.

"'Your out-of-this-world pal'?" Ken slowly spoke each word.

"Oh, yeah." There was a small chirp from the speakers to let Ken know that Oswald was moving. He was turned back around, the alien awkwardly rubbing his own head. There were little slashes on his face to indicate that he was blushing. "I don't think people really wanted a virtual alien friend. Maybe I'm a bit Y2K."

Again, Oz seemed to be speaking a language that Ken wasn't understanding. Seeing the confusion on Ken's face, Oz moved away from the screen and gave a nervous little laugh.

"Well, I'm not exactly a looker like you, pal. I bet people are clamoring to play with you!"

Ken scoffed and shook his head.

"Everyone here is beautiful. All the Barbies… and Kens. We're built for each other." He paused. "Oh and Allan and Midge. Guess they were made for each other too."

"Wait so… You're a Ken?" Oz chirped.

There was a small nod and the alien took note of how they must be gendered dolls here. Boys and girls separated by just two names. Funny. Definitely a bit old-school.

"And you have a Barbie?"

At that, Ken looked a bit off. He was Barbie's boyfriend. They were supposed to be together, like a perfect pair. But his Barbie hadn't been exactly interested in him lately. She was… different. Something was happening with her and Ken was worried he was losing her altogether.

"You could say that," he replied in a hushed tone.

Oz wasn't born yesterday even with his memory reset. There was something up between Ken and his Barbie, but the alien wasn't exactly going to push the issue. It would be rude to press the man who had just saved him from running out of battery.

"Well, I can tell she has quite the catch. A hero saving aliens from their untimely demise," he joked to lighten the mood. "Maybe I should call you Ken instead of Master then-"

"No. No… you can call me Master still."

Oz blinked up at Ken who was nervously averting his eyes from the screen after that comment. Was he really gonna let this little pixel thing call him something like that? It was the most respect he had ever gotten in Barbie Land. Being Ken - just Ken - was far from being a Barbie. He didn't have a house. Or a job. Or anything to his name. He was Ken. And now he didn't even know if he was Barbie's Ken anymore. So having someone, especially a stranger, now see him as anything else, well…

Ken felt special.

"Okay!" Oz giggled, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. "Well, Master, since I'm literally in the palm of your hands… Why don't I teach you how to use me?"

Again, if Ken could blush…

"If you press that middle button, you can pull up my menu. That's all the settings, time zone, and help information. Boring stuff. But if you click the right button…" Oz gestured to where Ken's thumb was idly resting against. "That gives me food! I need three meals a day to make sure my meter doesn't run out."

"Meter?" Ken inquired.

"Press that left button!"

Ken obliged and was surprised to see a status menu pop up in place of Oz. It showed a small icon of the alien's face along with a level number, sleep status, food meter, and happiness status indicated by a smiley face. Ken's brow furrowed in confusion. Was this like taking care of a pet?

"Are you my dog now?"

There was no response.

"Oh!" He quickly pressed the button and Oswald returned to the screen. The alien was trying his best not to laugh at Ken's surprise. "You have to be on screen to talk, huh?"

"Ding ding ding!"

A jaunty little tune played as the screen displayed a spinning star before fading back to Oz.

"And no, I'm not a dog. I'm clearly an alien." Oz rolled his eyes and pointed to his antenna. "But I guess… kinda? I'm a virtual pet - your new best pal! You keep my meters full and my happiness up and, well, I'll be the perfect friend! If you forget about me and stop playing…"

A large skull and crossbones popped up.

"Then you gotta restart and, boy, lemme tell you, that's not fun. I… Kinda forget all about you and have to start all over." Oz's expression shifted to what Ken could tell was apprehension about the subject.

"That's why you don't remember how you got here, huh?"

Oz nodded.

"Happens every time. I don't know how many Masters I've had that have picked me up, played with me, and then forgotten all about me. Guess it's better that way - I don't get attached."

There was something tugging at Ken's heart. He knew what it was like to be neglected and now he knew that someone was really relying on him. The doll carefully held onto the device and brought Oz to his chest.

"Well, now you're gonna have someone to take care of you! Like, really take care of you, you know? I'll make sure you never have to restart."

Baffled by the bold statement, Oz was glad that his face was hidden in Ken's chiseled chest. He was honestly so caught off-guard that he didn't know what to say. Someone actually was going to care for him? Though, maybe all before Ken had promised the very same. But this time… this time really did sound sincere. It could have been the alien's blind trust, surely, but the confidence from Ken had him eager to try again.

"Hey," came the soft voice from the crackling speakers. "That's awfully sweet of you, Ken. Really. But I know it's a tall order to ask someone who just picked me up to take care of me." Oz smiled, eyes twinkling with little sparkles. "But I'd be real happy to get to know you."

Ken pulled the device from his chest and gazed down at the collection of pixels. His own smile tugged at his lips. Get to know him? That was nice to hear. No one ever really paid him any mind. There was a lot Ken could do, but he didn't have anything special like the Barbies that set him apart from the rest.

"You're not just saying that because I saved you?"

"Naaah! I don't kiss that much heinie on the first date!" Oz quickly slapped his hand over his mouth, blush returning to his cheeks. There were little spirals appearing over his head to show that he was flustered. "Uh. Wrong choice of words…"

But it was far too late. Ken had already been struck with the idea of a date. While Barbie was supposed to be his girlfriend, she never called them hanging out a date. His smile was now a goofy grin and he let out a slow laugh.

"Ha… Well. A bit forward - are all aliens like you?"

"I-I don't know," Oz stuttered. "I don't retain my memories, remember? And my programming doesn't really give me a backstory with any cool alien family stuck far, far away on another planet. Though maybe I should lie and roll with it."

"You shouldn't lie, it's rude," Ken frowned.

"Is that an order then?" came the inquiry and one brow raised upwards.

Ken, feeling stubborn, puffed out his chest and stood tall. His index finger extended and he shook it at the screen like he was giving Oz a stern talking to.

"Y'know what? Yeah. As your Master, I gotta make sure you don't keep secrets. Besides, friends don't lie to each other."

That caused Oz to look away. Guilt crept up on him and instantly sat like a pit in his stomach.

"So we're friends?"

"Well, yeah! I was joking about all that pet stuff." The doll's expression softened as he looked at his new companion. "You may be a computer… thing. But that doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Had they all promised friendship? Did every one of his previous owners lie to him the same way? Ken didn't look like he was lying. This was a new chance and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to worry about restarting with Ken around.

With a soft sigh, Oswald gave a little nod and a shy smile.

"Okay. Friends don't lie." A little laugh bubbled from the speakers. "So we tell each other the truth, 'kay?"

Ken was grinning again.

"Totally! This is gonna be awesome, just you see. No more forgetting stuff, I'm gonna show you everything here in Barbie Land and You're gonna remember it all!"

The eagerness to prove that theory true was enough to make Oz's meter fill with full happiness. A little heart hung above his head, quickly disappearing before Ken could even blink. Barbie Land sounded interesting and Oz wanted to see it all for himself. After all, this was his new home!

Ken was already walking out the door with Oz in hand. Curiously, the alien watched as the sky above them changed from the drab interior of the lighthouse to the sunny, cloudless sky of Barbie Land. It was almost like staring into a painting, it was breathtaking! Oz gave a little beep to Ken so that he'd look down at the screen and, once those big blue eyes looked his way, the alien motioned to turn his UFO over. He wanted to see what Ken was seeing. Happily, Ken obliged and held the device out to the world.

"Your arm is gonna smart if you keep me up like that," Oz teased.

"Huh."

Ken stopped in his tracks, Oz rattling around the confines of his screen. He rubbed at his freshly bonked head before seeing what Ken was up to. It looked like he was fiddling with the silver chain around his neck. Intrigued by the sudden concern Ken seemed to have for his fashion sense, Oz was quiet until the string of silver threaded through the loop adorning his device. His ship was dangling in the air for just a moment before Ken fastened the necklace back around himself.

"There, that way you can see everything and I can make sure I don't lose you."

Oz couldn't see it, but that goofy and proud grin was back on the bimbo doll's smug face. The UFO beeped a few times as Oz's circuits overloaded from the gesture. Despite only being pixels, Oswald felt safer than he ever had before. Even more so than when he was awake when his creators were troubleshooting his code.

"Thank you," he managed to mumble out.

Happy as a clam, Ken continued to saunter back down to the beach where the other Kens had seemed to disperse from their clique earlier. He knew his companion was busy taking in the beautiful sights of his - their home. With the warm sand beneath his feet again, Ken let out a pleased sigh. This was where he spent most of his time every day when he wasn't out chasing Barbie.

"The lighthouse looks so small from over here," he heard Oz muse aloud. "I'm glad you heard me from down here."

"Ah, well. I know when something's happening anywhere on the beach. Call it my six cents."

"...sense?"

"Exactly."

He gave a little nod, planting his feet firmly in the sand with his hands on his hips as the two of them looked out onto the ocean. The permanent plastic wave was high that afternoon, just as it always was.

"Surf's looking good today."

Oz looked up at Ken to see if he was serious, but the position he was in didn't allow him to see past that chiseled jawline. He shrugged to himself and figured it was best not to continue to correct him. It'd be rude to bite the hand that would be feeding him.

"Is Barbie Land always this beautiful?"

"Yup! Every single day!" Ken was beaming like an excited puppy who had just found a really cool stick. "Yesterday was awesome. Today is awesome. And tomorrow will be awesome too! Just like it always is."

There were a few moments of silence as Oswald mulled over the concept of constant perfection.

"Don't you ever get tired of it? Wouldn't you want to see something new?"

The device was lifted up so that the two could look at each other. Oz slid to the top of the screen and soon adjusted himself right side up.

"Why would I wanna do that when everyday's a great day?"

At that, Oz frowned. Did Ken not really see the point in chasing the high of new adventures? Was this place some kind of weird purgatory for all the dolls? He put his hands on his hips and shook his head.

"Because surely something new is more exciting than doing the same thing every day. I mean, I know I have to have three meals, be played with, and then go to sleep every day. That's written in my game code." There was a gesture to his menu button before he pointed to Ken. "But you don't have a code. You could do whatever you wanted, right?"

"Well…" Ken couldn't exactly explain it, but there was the nagging sense of routine every day. Maybe some days he wanted to do things differently, but it never panned out that way. He couldn't exactly explain that he wasn't being played with the same way Barbie was. Ken was just Ken. "I try to see Barbie every day. Sometimes it happens. Then I know it's gonna be a good day!"

That made Oz frown again. It didn't exactly sound like Ken was living for himself. But, again, the relationship between Barbie and Ken seemed a lot more complicated than a simple boyfriend and girlfriend thing. It sounded like Barbie was super important to Ken and it really mattered what she did.

"...you could show Barbie that you saved me," Oz offered. "I bet she'd see how cool and brave you were."

A hand slowly wrapped around the UFO and partially blocked Oz's view. Intrigued by Ken's action, he peeked his head from behind Ken's fingertips to look at him again and see what was up.

"I kinda want this to be a 'me' thing." Quickly, his eyes darted away. "We haven't spent a lot of time together yet and everyone will be bugging me once they see you. Can't we just have some alone time first?"

Those blush marks grew wider on Oz's chubby cheeks. Hearing Ken get so protective was something that drove the little alien wild. Being kept to just Ken… It felt intimate. Nervously, he let out a giggle.

"Sure, sure, Master," the alien teased playfully. "When you're ready, I can talk to the others. But for now, it'll just be us. Who knows, maybe we'll be making friendship bracelets for each other someday."

"How could you make me a bracelet in there?"

Oz rolled his eyes.

"I can do anything in here, Ken. It's all code. I can pull anything out of thin air - heck, I could even change what I look like! 'sides, it was just a joke. Anything I make in here you couldn't wear."

Was… Ken pouting?

"Aw, c'mon, big guy! Don't look so sour. I guess my jokes just don't land with dollies."

Like a hurt puppy, Ken's face was still so sad looking. A pixel hand reached to touch the part of the screen that the plastic one was still clutching onto as if to comfort him. Oz wished he could really touch Ken, but at least his gesture could be seen.

"Don't pout Ken, that pretty face might stick that way. And that would be a cryin' shame! Your smile is ten times cuter."

As if on cue, that very smile tugged at Ken's lips.

"Really?" he giggled.

"What did we say? No lies between friends, right? I mean it. You look really pretty when you smile." Oz blushed once again and let out a light chuckle. "Your eyes get all twinkly too."

It was at that moment that Ken realized that he had never heard that kind of compliment before. Sure, the Barbies would tell him he was very brave and strong, but they had never said something so genuine. He was at a loss for words. All he could do was smile like a dope, chuffed that his new companion seemed to actually like him.

"There it is," came the teasing coo from the alien. "Much better."

Ken let out a boyish laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. Was he being wooed? Because it was working way too well. There must have been some coding in that circuit board that gave Oz enough charisma to flirt. Was it flirting or was he misreading the signs like he always did with Barbie? But this felt different…

"Ken?"

Blinking out of his daze, he turned his attention to Oz's screen before realizing Oz was focused on something in front of them. Instantly, Ken froze. The unmistakable pink flowy fabric made his heart jump into his throat, knocking all coherent thought out of him. Her smile sparkled in the sunlight and he could see her greeting everyone on the beach as she always did.

"...Barbie," fell from his lips automatically.

#Works of Oz #Fanfiction #Barbie #Barbie 2023 #Barbie Movie #Ken #Original Character

10 notes · View notes

hiding-in-my-blanket-fort · 1 year ago

Text

One of the biggest issues I struggle with after living with an emotionally immature family is feeling invisible. I just…disappear. And it’s all I’ve ever known. I don’t know how to change that. I don’t know if I CAN change it because socializing takes so much energy and leaves me with a tension headache.

Common advice says to seek out healthy social connections. But I don’t know what that looks like. I’ve never had a healthy friendship. I have zero interest in dating. I’m so used to being on the outskirts of society.

People talk about their group chats and Discord servers with friends. They talk about finding friends and partners on apps or in group activities and it’s all so foreign to me. Groups are a sensory nightmare for me. There’s too much happening. I can’t keep track of the half dozen conversations going on around me. And if you’re not the life of the fucking party, you’re called out for being too quiet.

I’ve had very few friends and no partners over the years and I think at this point, it just feels like maybe I’m always going to be on the outskirts, no matter how hard I try to change that. I was always the one pursuing people, forcing friendships, trying to “make it work”.

Because if I didn’t do that, I had no one.

And it’s really hard to envision anyone showing any interest in me now. I’ve never had that in my life. My past “friends” never cared about what I was doing, writing me off. I can’t fathom that anyone would want to hang out with me because that’s never happened. It’s absolutely devastating when you watch the girl you thought might be a potential friend excitedly leave you to hang out with someone else and she doesn’t invite you along.

The longer I go without close social connections, the harder it is to seek out, maintain, or even make a connection in the first place. I struggle with the demands on my energy. I struggle with the catch-22 of the fact that people who already have friends will have a much easier time making more friends because they have positive social proof and they have practice.

The last time I tried to make a friend, she said she already had seven best friends and didn’t need any more. I have none. I’ve had none for about twelve years now. And I’m tired.

#ace talks to herself

2 notes · View notes

ghoul-bonez · 2 years ago

Text

~Through the Wind and Rain~

Chapter 9 (Day of Celebration)

OC x OC set in the “Avatar: The Way of Water” universe…

Summary: There are many celebrations of Eywa, but this one was special.

Word count: 3.1k

Author's note: This one was actually pretty fun to write & I enjoyed throwing the Sullys in there (mostly for myself & low key found family is muah)

Last - Next

Masterlist

Chapter 9 (Day of Celebration)

There are many celebrations of Eywa, but none were as important to the Metkayina as the day our Great Mother guided their ancestors to the ocean’s edge, where they would spread out across the sea and learn to live amongst the waves. Of course I have never experienced this celebration, being from the forest and all that, but I could feel the energy flowing through me, the love for our Great Mother, the excitement.

People hurried around, getting ready for the large celebration later tonight. Hunters brought back their final catch to be made into delicious traditional foods, and the gatherers brought fruits to be served alongside them. I had offered myself to help with anything I could, but before I could be whisked away into the chaos Leyra had found me and drug me away from the hustle of the beach where the celebration was being set up.

She pulled me into her marui, “I want your help getting ready, please.”

I nodded, “What do you need?”

She ran her hands over her face, groaning, before speaking “I have no accessories, and I want to do my hair differently, but nothing I do looks right.”

I nodded, starting to think about what accessories I could give her and how to do her hair, “I can definitely help with that.”

She grabbed my hands, “Thank Eywa, you can help me! I don’t think anyone else would put up with me. Thank you! ”

I decided to start with her hair while I was already at her marui instead of having to go back to mine to get accessories right away. I sat her down facing away from me, “Tell me if I’m pulling too hard, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She hummed in response, and we sat in silence as I worked. It was a comfortable silence, not awkward where I felt like I had to talk, and I focused on the sounds of waves crashing in the background as I sectioned out little pieces from her hair, leaving most of it loose, and started on braiding them. When I was done with the braids I split her hair in half top from bottom, pulling the top part into a ponytail and securing it with a piece of fabric. It was perfect, exactly what I had envisioned.

When I was done I spoke again, “I’m done now. It’s beautiful. Just as beautiful as you, sweetheart.” I complimented, “I’ll go back to my marui and grab you some necklaces to wear, or something like that.”

I got up and was ready to walk out before I felt arms wrap around me, “Thank you.” Leyra spoke quietly, just so I could hear it. I reached up and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, “I’ll let you go now.” I could hear the smile on her voice as she released me.

The walk to my marui was boring, it was more settled on this side of the island compared to the chaos of the other side where people prepared for the celebration, but even from my marui I could smell the food they were cooking. It smelled amazing, but different from the traditional Omatikaya food I was used to.

It was getting darker now, almost eclipse when the real celebration would begin, but I could hear the far away beats of music where people were already starting to gather together. I hummed along as I shuffled through my marui looking for things for Leyra to wear. I had a few armbands, a few necklaces, some bracelets, but nothing really stood out.

Nothing was good enough for her. I was having a hard time deciding until I spotted a particular necklace.

It was the first one I made here, my first time working with their materials. It was a little rough around the edges, but it was beautiful. White shells with pink insides were weaved intricately into a pattern with cords made from some sort of plant I couldn’t remember the name of. It was to be laid against your neck, secured against your throat.

It was a symbol to me of breathing in the life I had been granted. I had been allowed to stay, so now I breathed the way they did, and the shells pressed to my neck would symbolize that. It would be perfect for Leyra.

Even if I had many more choices I would choose that necklace time and time again.

As the light outside dwindled I realized I wouldn’t have time to get back to Leyra then get back here again to get myself ready, so while I was home I decided to get myself put together as well.

I looked through my things, finding my very best top to make myself look worthy of Eywa’s love on a day like today. It was intricately woven with green fabrics, little shells and beads woven into the design decorated it, and fell perfectly against my chest as I put it on. I wore a normal loincloth but on top I layered a handcrafted skirt, put together by Leyra and given to me on the day of my first connection to the Spirit Tree.

I also put on an armband made of materials from the forest, some weaved brown cord and a little green crystal in the middle. A small reminder of where I came from, but very welcomed.

I also unraveled my hair from its braids untangling it as I went. It was so much different to work with than Leyra’s curls, but it felt nice for it to be free, even though I was going to put the braids back in tomorrow. It was like a piece of me was freed alongside my hair, feeling lighter and more ready for the socializing I was about to do.

When I was ready I headed back out, the necklace for Leyra gently cradled in my hands. I don’t think it would break if I held onto it more securely, but the feelings surrounding it felt too pure to hold it tightly in my hands, so I held it very carefully, just tight enough to make sure I wouldn’t lose it.

The sky was dark by the time I reached Leyra’s home again, and I rushed in quickly so we wouldn’t be too late to join the gathering. I knocked on the outside of the doorway to make my presence known, and when Leyra looked up from where she was sitting and caught sight of me she smiled widely, eyes shining up at me like I was the brightest star in the sky, even shining through storm clouds.

Her voice was soft when she spoke, in volume and in tone, “You look beautiful, and you’re wearing the skirt I made you.”

I nodded my head, sitting in front of her to be closer to her, “Of course I am. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” My response was simple, but it seemed that was all she was looking for as she smiled even wider, the smile reaching her eyes.

“I brought you something.” I opened my hands to her, the necklace laying there on display, “It’s the first necklace I ever made here, with the resources available on the island, and in the sea.”

“It’s perfect.” She spun to be facing away from me but looked over her shoulder to speak to me, “Put it on me?”

I just nodded, she held her hair away from the back of her neck as I worked to carefully tie a knot, not too tight, but not too loose. It had to be perfect for her. It had to be perfect like her.

Then she stood, taking my hands in hers as she hurried outside, “We must go now, I don’t want to get there after they run out of food.”

I rolled my eyes, “I don’t think they'll run out of food before we get there, I think they cooked enough food to feed the clan three times over. Trust me, I’ve been watching them all day.”

We walked towards the beach and the first thing that caught my eye was the brightly lit fire pit where people sat around eating and chatting. It cast a beautiful flickering red and orange light over the people sitting nearby.

Jake and Neytiri were sitting by the campfire, our shade of blue sticking out like a sore thumb, even in the darkness and bathed in orange light. Jake waved me over and Leyra let go of my arm, giving me a knowing look, almost as if to say, “Go, be social.”

I was going to properly greet Jake, but before I got the chance he spoke to me, “Come sit with us for a minute.” I just nodded politely and sat down, “I’m proud of you, kid. I hope you know that. You’ve kept your promise, and I won’t lie that was the least of my worries when you came here. I’ve watched you grow so much since being here. I see you grow and thrive more and more, day by day. I know that me being proud probably doesn’t mean a whole lot to you, not as much as it would coming from your parents, but I know they would be proud of you too. I know with the Omatikaya they were hard to grow up in the shadow of, but here you have become your own person. Not only would they be happy for you, but you should be happy for yourself.

I felt tears well up in my eyes thinking about my parents. I hope Jake was right in what he said, and even if he wasn’t I was going to believe he was, “Thank you.”

I was expecting Neytiri to dismiss me and tell me to go but she spoke calmly, leveled, “I am also very proud of you. You have proven your choice was not foolish, even if that meant having to leave the Omatikaya.”

I parroted what I had told Jake, “Thank you.” but this time it was different, ever so slightly. This was coming from a mother. I had validation from my aunt who was a mother, but that was far and inbetween, but this was different. This was coming from a mother who seemed to care, who was actually proud of me. It filled some sort of hole in my heart and soul I didn’t even know I had.

“Okay, we're done now, get going.” Jake joked as he waved me away, but before I could leave he added on, “And please for the love of Eywa go talk to Lo’ak he’s been sulking all night and none of us have figured out how to fix it.”

I nodded as I started walking away, waving before I disappeared from their view into the crowd.

I already knew what was bothering Lo’ak as I approached him, plopping down to sit next to him, “Lo’ak all you have to do is go talk to her. Kiri tells me you’ve been pining over her since before I even came. Day one, she said.” He had been watching Tsireya, I didn’t know her very well, had only said hello in passing, but she seemed very kind. Leyra would tell me about how she was when they were younger, how they would play and swim together even with the few years difference.

He looked to me with a shocked expression on his face, I wasn’t sure weather it was because he wasn’t expecting me, or because Kiri had told me about his crush, “Kiri is a liar.” he turned away from me, immediately looking at Tsireya again before looking away, trying to find anything else to focus on to prove I was incorrect.

I laughed at his antics, how hard he was trying, “I don’t know about that, it’s painful to watch how awkward you are around her, and you’ve been sulking all evening. Everyone has noticed, so just go talk to her. It can’t be that hard.”

He put his face in his hands, muttering, “But all her friends are there.”

I shrugged, “So? Go make friends with her friends, it’ll make you look good. Just try.”

He groaned, “Fine.” I patted him on the back before he drug himself off the ground, shaking his body off and “casually” walking over to them. It was funny watching how awkward he was versus how put together he was trying to be. It made him look like he was walking with a stick up his ass.

Once he was gone I heard a gasp behind me which caused me to whip around, there Kiri stood with her mouth wide, “Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies.” I laughed.

She snapped her mouth closed before opening it again to talk, “How on Pandora did you get Lo’ak to go talk to Tsireya?”

I laughed again, clearly he wouldn’t listen to anyone else’s suggestions so that brought up the question, was he too stubborn to listen to anyone else, or dumb enough to listen to me, “I told him talking to her friends would make him look good. Now we’re gonna hope I was right and he doesn’t make himself look like a skxawng.”

We chatted about random stuff for a while longer before Kiri’s next question caught my attention, “Who are you thinking of choosing when you’re allowed to choose a mate.” Shescanned the crowd, looking for anyone she could point out, “How about Sitxi?”

I smiled, more to myself, I already knew the answer, but I’d play Kiri’s little game for a bit, “Yeah, he’s nice, but I don’t think he’s the one.”

She looked around more, searching for the next “suitable” man she saw, “Ruí? I hear he’s a great hunter.”

I shook my head no, “I’d prefer someone I’m already close to.” My eyes instinctually gravitated to Leyra.

Kiri gasped again, like with Lo’ak, but this time more drama as she slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes going from me to Leyra and back to me again, “Leyra! I knew there was something going on between you two!”

I laughed at her dramatics, responding while fighting off the laughter still bubbling out of me, “Then why were you suggesting the men of the clan?”

“I didn’t want to offend you if I was wrong.” She shrugged her shoulders casually.

There was a moment of calm before the storm, Tuk rushing over quickly, dancing, spinning around like a tornado, “Niri! Come dance with me! Lo’ak said he would, but now he’s talking to Tisreya.” She put on an over exaggerated frown. She was just as dramatic as Kiri, it must be a family thing.

I knew I couldn’t say no, not to Tuk, “Alright Tuk, let’s go dance!” I looked to Kiri, asking if she wanted to come with us, but she just smiled and shook her head no.

Tuk grabbed my hands, tugging on them to get me up, and I scrambled to my feet and as soon as I was up she started running off to where a large group of people were dancing. Thankfully this was a song and dance Leyra had taught me. I could tell Tuk was taught it as well by how she fell in line with the other dancers, looking to me to join her, and I did.

Although I had an eye on Leyra the whole night, Tuk was rather distracting with her wanting to always be moving from one place to another as we spun, and twirled, and swayed with the music, joining in properly on group dances we actually knew how to do.

Dancing for a few songs kept my interest, but eventually my focus on the dances slipped as I saw Leyra studying me and Tuk, no doubt making sure I was following the steps she taught me.

We couldn’t have people thinking their best teacher had failed to teach someone something properly, even if that thing is as small as a dance.

I had noticed throughout the night like our Great Mother watching us celebrate her, Leyra had been watching me go from one person to the next. I mirrored her at points, making sure I knew where she was, what she was doing, who she was with.

I would always see her out of the corner of my eye as I jumped from doing one thing to another. Her beauty stood out from the crowd and she was easy to find wherever I looked for her. I feel I will always be able to find her in any crowd, even with my eyes closed, because I will always drift towards her. Gravitating towards each other. Revolving around each other, like the sun and its planets, inseparable. We are drawn towards each other, and I think we always will be.

As me and Tuk spun again in that moment I knew Leyra was watching me, although I couldn’t see her anymore, and with my distractions I didn’t see her stand up, but she did catch my eye again as she swiftly walked over to me and Tuk, her hips swaying with the music, like she was a vessel for it.

Eventually she reached us, placing a careful hand on my shoulder, she spoke, “I’m sorry Tuk, but could I borrow Niri’te? I would like to have a dance with her.”

“Of course!” Tuk smiled before she started running off, stopping and turning to us to add, “Have fun!”

After Tuk was out of sight I turned to Leyra, studying her. The firepit was farther away from us, but the orange light from it was still cast over her. Her ever so slightly darker complexion made all the difference in the way the light danced on her skin.

In the darker lighting I could see her glowing freckles brighter. I hadn’t ever seen them before, I hadn’t seen her this clearly at night before. We had crossed paths as eclipse was beginning, or started lessons before the sun had come out, but we had never been this close. I had never had the time. Now I had the time, I would commit myself to mapping her freckles, drawing them out in my mind like aysnatanhì.

Leyra didn’t say anything to me before starting to move with the music, and I watched like I was in a trance until she grabbed my hands, pulling me into her and spinning us together. I tripped over my own feet and she giggled as I regained my balance.

Once my balance was regained, and I was able to focus on the music, I moved with her. The way we moved together felt natural, like we were perfectly in sync, like we were ever only meant to dance with each other, and nobody else.

I didn’t want to dance with anybody else. Not when I had her.

Word Bank:

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Great Mother (Eywa)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

Omatikaya (Forest Na’vi)

Spirit Tree (Metkayina sacred tree)

Pandora (The Na’vi’s home planet)

Skxawng (Idiot, moron)

Aysnatanhì (Constellation)

#avatar oc #avatar movie #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #avatar 2009 #avatar #platonic jake sully #platonic sullys x reader #sully family #sully family x reader #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow fics

16 notes · View notes