#have i mentioned i love pip

[dont-lie-to-me-gerad]

livestream comments I love a lot

consisting of Tom's wife, AJ's dad, Sam's mum and themselves

[needleanddead]

pulling up a chair to see what i’ve missed in the past like six months to a year btw!!! who are your blorbos. did i miss new blorbos. who is being rotated in your head!!!

[evermorepeyton]

i literally loveeee your dnp x f1 fic so much

that actually means the world to me

thank you so much 🥺🤍

[philsmeatylegss]

I know we’re joking about it, but it genuinely makes me smile seeing Dan and Phil more open and comfortable with interviewers who are/were fans and being snippy and closed off to interviewers who know little to nothing about them. I remember how Dan mentioned how excited he was that when the gaming channel came back because it now was a smaller group of people who just enjoyed watching them as an audience. The viewers weren’t there as a trend, they genuinely enjoyed watching them. I do believe dip and pip really value the connection they have with fans as much as we value connecting with them. Idk if this makes sense, I just really love them.

[777heavengirl]

the one with the picture

sirius black x reader ! - 2,084 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: IM BACK IM BACK IM BACK also sorry its so late at night hectic day xoxo i hope you enjoy!! don't forget to drop a little reblog or even just comment guys!! it is so very appreciated and it lets me know y'all want more!

“Ready to become uncles?” You asked, a yawn following your words. 

Remus smiled at you, soft and sleepy from the couch facing yours. His cane rested on the arm of the couch, abandoned for the comfort of the shitty hospital seat. Remus nodded wordlessly.

“I reckon I’ll be a terrible uncle,” Peter gruffed as he shook the box of candies into his mouth, emptying it “I have nothing to teach this bloody baby-”

“I don’t think anyone expects you to teach him anything Wormtail-” Sirius pipped up with a laugh from the corner where he paced in circles, head swiveling towards the room James and Lily were in as a nurse hurried out of it.

You ignored the bustling of nurses, you had long learned by now that unless you saw James, it probably didn’t mean anything.

“Why on Merlin’s green earth did they decide to give birth in a muggle hospital-” Peter groaned into his hands, the hours of waiting bearing down on him.

“Lily refused to do a home birth remember? St Mungo’s doesn't exactly do the whole birth thing- ” Remus muttered from the small beige sofa he had curled up in, long legs spilling from the edge of the cushions. You wondered if he was comfortable, but his eyes were closed and he had barely moved in the past two hours so you assumed on some level he probably was. Well, between his cardigan and long pants, he was at least doing better than you. You could feel your skin start erupting in goosebumps from the cold.

It had been a blur really, the furious knocking at your door at the hands of Peter, and haphazardly putting on the first thing you found after basically clawing off the stuffy funeral dress. You didn’t even have enough time to grab a jacket, barely putting on shoes as Remus and Peter swept you off to the muggle hospital. A shiver ran down your spine as you cursed the pajama shorts and stupid t-shirt you had thrown on. 

You could feel Sirius’s grey eyes on you, staring straight into the side of your head. But you refused to look, instead burying your face further into your hands. You didn’t notice he had moved until he was right next to you- 

“Take it-” Sirius handed you his suit’s jacket, basically shoving it into your arms so you couldn't say no. “You’re going to get sick,” You stared at it, fingers softly squeezing the soft material. He sat next to you. 

The small, beige couch you had chosen to sit on was much like the one you had when you were freshly moved in. It lived in your home for a measly two weeks before Euphemia decreed that no child of hers would have such a stiff abomination in her watch. It was hard and restricting. The two of you might as well have been sitting on a wooden bench. But neither of you dared to move, so you sat, silently, both wishing Euphemia could save you from the clutches of the rigid couch.

Sirius thought of the sofa. And when you first moved in. Together and bright-eyed, he had been so in love with you then. He reckons he still was. But now he knew there was no hope of you loving him back.

He cursed the couch silently.

“Put it on,” he sighed as he leaned back, his white button-up shifting as he threw his arm over the backrest. “Don’t be stubborn-”

You huffed as you put it on, “thanks…”

“Don’t mention it,” you leaned back too, the back of your neck close to his arm, almost touching but quite. “Did you bring my camera?” you nodded, but he didn't answer back. 

You couldn’t stand the distance between you, a thick jelly of silence that was anything but peaceful. You dreaded going home, you dreaded having to face that your best friend, the boy you so dearly loved was upset with you.

Especially over something so petty. What did he care that you had a job? Your own life? Something to do that wasn’t shared with him? It was rather selfish of him, wasn’t it? You could almost hear your father spew that sentence from the darkest pits of your mind. 

You stared at the small bag in Sirius’s hand. You didn’t know why you hadn’t taken notice of it before. He clutched the small velvet bag tightly. Did it have an extension charm? You wondered if it was his things then, had he carried that to the funeral? You thought you would’ve noticed. Had he been planning on staying at James’s? Had he cleared his things at some point without you noticing? 

You rubbed circles into the palm of your hand and chewed at your lip worryingly. 

If your father knew he’d call you stupid. Stupid for not looking for an apartment to move out, stupid for not being the first to leave, irresponsible, too trusting, so stupid.

You decided you maybe didn’t want to know if he was indeed planning to leave. 

“Hey-” he shifted uncomfortably “do you think we can talk about... you know, everything”

“Sirius I don’t know if it's the time-” You refused to even take a peek at him, even though you knew he was staring right at you now. 

“Well, Merlin knows how much longer we’re going to be here-” he was right, you had all been here for ages waiting for the baby to come “so yeah it might be the time,” 

You sighed, finally turning to look at him. His stupid shiny grey eyes, and his stupid porcelain skin. His stupid stupid frowning lip. He’d deny he was sporting one if you called him out on it. 

He had always been a pouty one.

You were mad. At least you wanted to be, but when you looked at him, in all his disheveled glory, the hair he had run his hand through a thousand times, the white button-up with the top buttons undone and that had been unconsciously untucked from his slacks. You just couldn’t be genuinely mad.

So you softened, finally moving to face him. Your knee knocked against his, his warmth transferring from his leg onto your skin.

“I’m sorry, for being so petty earlier- it was unfair and-” Sirius sighed, staring at your hand on your lap. His fingers twitched with the need to hold yours, to feel your no doubt freezing fingers between his warm ones.

He thought of your first week of living together again.

He grabbed your hand. You stared at the bag in his other hand again.

Like if you stared at it hard enough it would tell you its contents. But your thoughts drifted as your soft fingers were enveloped in his. Yet, you didn’t say anything, you didn’t dare. You squeezed his hand and he finally looked up, back from whatever thought he had briefly gotten lost in. 

“I’m really sorry about the past few weeks-”

“I’m sorry too,”

“I just wish you could trust me enough to let me take care of you- there’s no one else in the world I’d rather spend my days with…” You swallowed thickly as he spoke “I love you-”

“My baby’s here!” James burst through a door down the hallway, cheering at the top of his lungs without caring about the nurse shushing him. “He’s here and he’s beautiful come on you lot- come on!”

Sirius quickly scrambled to his feet, the other two boys following in the chaos of unsticking themselves from their respective sofas. You tried to ignore it, the sting in your heart. You loved him too of course. But did he love you the way you loved him? 

There simply wasn't any time for that right now.

Sirius didn’t let go of your hand; he simply pulled, pulled until you came up with him. His hand grabbed tightly onto yours and as you ran down the hall, straight for the door to Lily’s room. 

He never once let go of you.

The room was lowly lit, and Lily looked exhausted, but a smile graced her features nonetheless. Sirius tossed the small velvet bag to James with his free hand. The worry of it left your head as quickly as it had come.

Sirius dragged you by your hand all the way up to the bed, his face turning in wonder as he looked at the small baby in Lily’s arms. 

“He’s so small” Peter called out from the foot of the bed,

“He’s so bloody pink-” Sirius glanced at James’s darker skin, a beaming smile nevertheless decorating his face. “Do you reckon he’ll stay like that? Or did he get the redhead’s genes?”

“Oi is that the first thing you have to say about your godson?” James couldn't help but laugh

“My godson?” Sirius stared blankly at James, briefly flickering between Lily’s equally beaming smile and the baby’s little pink face.

“I meant to ask but-” James smiled sheepishly as Lily glared, 

“Merlin he’s my godson”

“Do you want to hold him?” Lily whispered as Sirius’s face broke into a smile as well, 

“Of course, I want to hold my bloody godson Evans- he’s my godson”

Remus chuckled as he patted James on the back. You couldn’t help but wrap your hand around the camera that hung from your wrist.

 You snapped a picture. 

You knew what Sirius would write on the back of it later.

My godson. July 31, 1980

Just simple, and small, in his fancy, loopy cursive and black ink. But monumental in itself. He had done it. He had a family, he had always had one but now he was properly part of it. He was not just a stray taken in, but he now had a part in it. He’d love that baby until his body gave out. 

He knew it, you knew it, James and Lily knew it. From the second he was born, this baby would be the most loved baby on the planet. 

“I can’t believe he’s mine-”

“You don’t get to take him home mate”

“Hush Prongs- I’m going to be his favorite I know it” Sirius smiled, a playful smirk exchanged between friends. James couldn’t help but quip back

“Right after Uncle Moony-” 

“Ah that’s for sure,” Remus laughed 

“I meant his favorite parent but I reckon Wormtail will be the preferred uncle, with all the candy pouring from his pockets the kid is gonna love him no doubt-” You all couldn’t help but laugh-

“Do you want to hold him too?” Lily asked, her gaze shifting onto your face. “I reckon the godmother also deserves to hold baby Harry-”

“Are you serious? 

“Obviously-” 

“Lily are you being serious-”

“Yes! Black hand her the baby- god-” Sirius chuckled as he passed the small bundle into your arms, placing the camera at the foot of the bed. He was heavier than you expected, and the tears gathered in your eyes as you looked at his little face. Harry was small and definitely pink. He was a quiet little thing, undisturbed by the exchange of hands he was going through. Sirius leaned his chin on top of your shoulder, his cheek borderline pressed against yours. 

“Isn’t he the ugliest most precious thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Oi!”

“He’s so ugly it's cute-” His words tickled your ear

“I don’t think babies are supposed to be all that cute straight after birth Sirius-”

“I know love,”

“Alright, picture time idiots-” Remus said, leaning on his cane as he grabbed the camera with his free hand. James sitting on the side of Lily’s bed as you and Sirius also approached, baby Harry still in your arms.

“I look like shit-” You huffed as you sat on the bed with Lily

“I do too”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to Lils” Lily laughed. Sirius’s hand never left your back. 

“Well- he won’t remember anyway-”

“The picture will-”

“Say godparents!” Sirius had basically wrapped himself to your side, his face pressed against yours, his arm around your waist as he leaned down for the picture.

The flash made your eyes sting, a wide smile on your face. 

It was fitting, the disheveled state of the lot of you, even in the picture the nurse would take for you all later. A family sewed together like a mismatched quilt. 

Sirius smiled all night.

“Seriously though why is he so pink? Is this some sort of condition? Bloody baby doesn’t look anything like Prongs-”

“-Yet” James beamed.

My family, July 31, 1980

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie

LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED U OR IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED (i was gone for like a month and some change so i may have not been able to properly keep up with the tag list but i did my best)

[jellyfiishatr]

Being friends with them!!

a/n : just some friendly hang out sessions with the great spider four >_<★!!

☆☆☆

Characters : Miles Morales / Gwen Stacy / Pavitr Prabhakar / Hobie Brown

content : headcanon / fluff / platonic / pure silliness

☆☆☆

Miles Morales!! (Small Ganke mention!!)

☆ study sessions with these two ofcourse

☆ ^and by study sessions I mean Miles is doing work and Ganke's been done and has been playing videos games since you came over to their dorm

☆ Miles asks for help with English, and you ask for help with whatever you're missing

☆ if not study sesh, then definitely out and about spray painting a new wall

☆ ^I can imagine late night talks with him after he's finished a piece are very heart to heart, he loves to speak his mind to you and hopes you do aswell

☆ I can imagine you meeting his parents are a little nerve wracking since he's mentioned that they didn't like ganke or Gwen

☆ so you tried to be as respectful and kind to them as you possibly could (probably also kissing up to them idk I would too)

☆ if you also do art, you guys compare drawings and give eachother advice on what you need to work on

☆ ^definitely the type to steal your notes and draw in them during class

☆ ^will also steal said notes for a week and forger he has them till your banging on his door in the middle of the night before your assignments due and those notes are very much important to you

Gwen stacy!!

☆ it took a long time for her to actually consider you a friend, a lot of the time you just stayed following her and talking

☆ ^anything you said in those few months prior to her considering you a friend, went through one ear and out the other

☆ She's definitely a teaser, making fun of you in a friendly manner

☆ movie night, or weekly sleepovers at one another's house is a must with her

☆ ^she says she's into horror/action but is really into romcoms, she won't admit that outloud though

☆ I feel like she's really bad at cooking so teaching her how better her cooking skills has definitely happened once or twice

☆ ^she loves when you make her lunches, she usually buys you lunch for the next two days in return

☆ when she's playing the drums you usually sit right outside her window with headphones because she's likes to have her room shut off

☆ ^but she still wants to hang out so she makes you wait outside for about an hour till she's done and has you back inside for dinner

Pavitr Prabhakar!!

☆ Study sessions pt2!

☆ he's a straight A, top of the class student. He doesn't really need to do homework because he does it in class

☆ he does help you with yours though, especially if you're failing

☆ early morning walks, he's an early bird and makes you walk with him because "It's good for the mind!"

☆ if you're not an earlybird, you're grumbling the entire walk about how it's a "weekend" and how "you do this everyday pavitr" and how "you need to stop making me do this"

☆ he doesn't understand whatever you're trying to say and pushes you lightly the rest of the walk (that last part definitelywasnt written by pavitr, no definitely not)

☆ he loves to rant about his girlfriend, talking about how they sneaked out and went on a late night walk that week

☆ if you have an s/o you're definitely talking about them with pavitr, telling him all about them

☆ he's definitely a dog person, he always has a dog following him no matter what

☆ you guys are walking to school? There's a dog right behind you. Hanging out at his house? There's a dog right outside his bedroom window. LITERALLY IN SCHOOL?? A DOG HAS WALKED IN DURING THE MIDDLE OF CLASS AND SAT DOWN NEXT TO HIM WHILE THE TEACHER WAS AWAY

☆ ^everyone think he just has some sort of dog treats on him always but it's really from just recognizing his face from him always feeding them, such a sweetheart

Hobie Brown!!

☆ draws on your hand a lot

☆ ^you always have faded sharpie on you no matter what because of him

☆ you tease him for his accent constantly, saying "pip pip cheerio," or "ello luv." In the most horrible accent ever

☆ You have to go to protests or big government events with him, whether you're political or not he's dragging you along

☆ Always has little trinkets for you everytime you hang out

☆ hang outs in an abandoned building are a daily thing

☆ ^he's probably made you carry a big couch for him to put in a new hang out spot because he said he "knew a place."

☆ he did infact know a place

☆ the playlist guy, he's the one with fire songs to hype everyone up at rallies/protests

☆ knows how to design, outfits, or banners whatever. He knows how to do it right

☆ you'll always have heart to heart conversations with him, early in the morning, mid-day, or late at night

☆ if you ever bring up the topic, "you think we're friends in another universe?" He just looks at you and nods (I've mentioned this before in my hobie hcs)

☆☆☆

[erenjaegerwifee]

The Selection

Prologue

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Tawakmi!Reader

Warnings: none, some flirting.

Word Count: 2.7k

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If that bothers you feel free to scroll and do not interact with my account or any of my post.

~ This is the first part to my new series! I hope you all like the idea and enjoy reading! Suggestion are welcome I'd love to hear your ideas. in this series I should make you aware I will be including some human things, there will be some pretending when it comes to those things. the technology for instance will be something that is heavily in the series. human songs is also something that will be mentioned throughout, which will include some songs and lyrics (but Y/n is gonna write them so it wouldn't be considered human in this series)

Series M.List | Main M.List

“Neteyam the war is over, it is high time you choose a wife” Neytiri, his mother said to him while they were all having dinner. “Yea son, I know that for a long time it is all we thought about but you should get out there, get to know some people” his father, Jake pipped up. 

“Being married is great I promise, I didn’t think I'd like it this much man seriously” his brother Lo’ak said as he hugged his wife Korra against his side making her giggle. Neteyam smiles at his brother and new sister, they had such a strong relationship ever since they were young, the type of friends you knew one day they would mate and be as one. Neteyam has never had anyone like that, he has had friends and girls he was interested in but this war changed people, took people. He just isn’t really attracted to anyone in his clan right now.  

“I hear you; I know a bond is important to form, but honestly this war has taken so much out of all of us, there isn’t much people left in the clan and no one I can say I really feel for.” Neteyam sighed as he told his family as he passes his hand over the scar, he now has on his chest from getting shot all those years ago. His parents look at him sympathetically, they know what it feels like to be in love, they only want their children to feel the same one day, to feel that happiness. 

“Ok, I attended a meeting with the clan leaders from across the forest, they too have suffered much lose from this war and one of them pitched an idea I thought was interesting, I did not agree beforehand because I wasn’t sure you would agree” Jake sighed and glanced at his wife before continuing, “In the Kekunun clan, they have this tradition where men try through a series of competitions and challenges to win over the woman of their choosing, they pitched that if you were open too it, you can hold one of your own here, and which ever woman you choose will be your mate for life and join their clan with ours, so don’t suffer such a lose alone. You will rule both clans side by side.”  

His family looked at him while he contemplated his options, it was not the worse idea, maybe someone from the other clans might catch his attention. Maybe he might fall in love with someone, “How will we choose which girls will enter?” Neteyam asked his father.  

“Well, you can let the clans decide which girl they think is best fit or you can send someone you know to survey the crowds and choose a girl they think you’ll like, the point of this is to find you a match you are happy with, making the clan bigger is just a bonus” his father said. “We only want you to be happy son” his mother spoke up.  

Neteyam sighed again, “Ok, we will do it, but I want someone to survey the clans” his family waited for him to say who they will send and Neteyam didn’t have to give it much thought, at the end of the day only his family stood with him in the hard times, only his family held his hand throughout all of the injuries and loses, “Lo’ak, I trust his judgement, he’ll find me the right girls.”  

Lo’ak smiled at his brother, over the years they had depended on each other a lot, they grew much closer than their teenage years, they are not only brothers but good friends, they have kept each other safe countless times now, there really is no one Neteyam has more trust in to think of his best interest.  

Lo’ak has been to three clans so far with his wife, all three times he had chosen a woman he thinks his brother might like. He has been to the Tanrangi Clan by the eastern sea, the Olangi Clan that reside in the forest plains of Pandora and the Kekunun Clan that live in the Mountains. Visiting them has been a real experience for Lo’ak he was able to spend time with the people and get to know their customs before he chose a woman.  

It was easier than expected the women he chose just stood out to him, and his wife was much help in decided as well because Lo’ak came to realize, all the other forest clans have heirs that are women. Not a man besides their father was in the family, someone them were only children but some had sisters, none so far had brothers.  

Lo’ak must make one more stop, the furthest clan in the forest, a good three days travel away from the omatikaya clan, it was the Tawkami clan. Rumor has it you reside in one of the forest clans but Lo’ak has yet to see you. He just knows you would be perfect for his brother, but he can’t help but feel a bit selfish about wanting to choose you, yes, he has a wife and he loves her more than anything, he would never do anything to hurt her. But ever since Lo’ak heard the sound of your voice in his teens he’s been crushing hard, almost like a fantasy he knows he has no shot, he knows he doesn’t want it, he just likes you. He had this idea in his head about what you might be like and he always wondered what it would be like to meet you. 

Now Lo’ak is no stalker, he knows what you look like simply from pictures, but what na’vi on Pandora doesn’t know you? You are famous on Pandora, your voice people say was a gift from the great mother herself, they say your body was hand shaped by Eywa from how incredibly beautiful you are. They way your waves fall so lovely down your back, the silky curls bounce with every movement you make.  

Lo’ak has only seen videos and heard recordings but he has never gotten the chance to meet you. Why were you so out of reach to the public, he wasn’t even sure what clan you are from. He definitely thinks you are perfect though, but maybe his opinion on your is biased. Korra understands Lo’ak’s feelings towards you, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t also admire you, the way you moved when you danced in the videos she saw, it was so graceful and full of meaning.  

They talked about it the entire trip, every clan they would look for you and every clan they would be disappointed they didn’t find you; this is their last chance. They fly over the entrance of the Tawkami clan attracting the people below. This clan was beautiful, big space, Lo’ak knows they fought besides them in battle but they didn’t not return in the numbers they gave out. They are highly skilled and in tune with their land. 

Lo’ak jumped off his ikran and walked over to Korra to help her off her ikran. The pair walked hand in hand up to the crowd and greeted all of them. Everyone knows they are omatikaya, they know Lo’ak and who his father way, they also are very much aware of his skills as a warrior and is well respected at the clan.  

The clan’s Olo’eyktan with his three sons came forward, Lo’ak and Korra respectfully greeted them and they returned the gesture. “Lo’ak, son of Toruk Makto, what brings you so far from your clan?” Olo’eyktan spoke up. Tsahìk has joined them shortly after greeting them respectfully. “This is my wife, Korra. We are here to inform the clan that the Omatikaya have decided to hold a competition for the hand of Toruk Makto’s eldest, my brother Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan, the winner will join clans with ours and we will live as one. I was sent to choose the woman and request her presence to the clan to start the games in one weeks time”  

“Walk with me son” the Olo’eyktan invited Lo’ak, Korra walked alongside them as they spoke, “You are meant to choose clan leading children, right?” the man asked. Lo’ak nodded his head waiting for the man to continue speaking, “I am afraid I only have the one daughter; she is off age and if she is willing to participate in this competition you will have my blessing,”  

The Tsahik of the clan speed up her pace to stand in front of the three, “She has a beautiful connection to Eywa son, she must be taken care off if we allow her to come to your clan. How long will she be staying?” Korra spoke up before Lo’ak did, “the selection will take six months, between those six months some of the women who Neteyam is not interested in will be sent home.”  

Tsahik made eye contact with her husband speaking without words, almost as if Lo’ak read their mind, “Her place at the clan is welcome, she will be treated as one of our own, but we cannot guarantee she will be the one my brother chooses. If she is not, we will ensure her safe passage back. My brother is not only looking for a capable woman, he is looking for a loving wife, I am only here to see which one might be best suited, in the end it will be up to him.” Lo’ak’s eyes dart between them both before letting out a nervous sigh.  

It was never easy to explain to the clan leaders their children may not be Neteyam’s wife but they accepted anyways, many have respect for his brother, many women want to mate him, but not everyone has the same advantage in the games. “Let us introduce you and you can ask her yourself.” 

You sat on in a small clearing humming tunes of songs and sewing on some beads you gathered earlier in the day. You felt at peace in the forest, it was always something you loved to enjoy by yourself, the wind blew softly through your curls that fell over your eyes slights and down to the middle of your back. It was sort of uncommon for Na’vi women to have nags but you always thought they suited your face well, especially with your full curls, “Y/n!” you heard your mother shout. 

You heard turned to the voice before you stood up and ran in the direction of your mother. “Sa’nok? What is it?” you pull a big leaf down to walk in front of it being met with bother your parents, and a man and woman you did not recognize.  

The spark in their eyes when they saw you was something you would never get tired of, they are your fans, your mother brought fans to meet you? Thats a first. You brought your hand up to your forehead to greet them respectfully smiling sweetly, “I see you, y/n” they both said in sync copying your motion making you smile.  

You parents excused themselves mumbling to each other about how they hoped you said yes. You look at them confused before turning to the couple, “May I know your names?” you said sweetly. “I am Lo’ak, son of Toruk Makto, this is my mate, Korra” you smile at them both before silence took over as if they did not know what else to say. “It is nice to meet you both, may I ask why you journeyed so far from your clan?” your eyes dart between them.  

“We have come to choose women from the forest clans for my brother to mate, it is a competition to see who is best suited for him, in return the winning woman will join her clan with the Omatikayan and we will live as one. I know this is short notice but the games start in one week, we have chosen you if you will accept?” Lo’ak said, his grip on his wife’s hand was a bit hard but he was just so nervous on whether you would say yes. You are famous across the moon, everyone and their mother knows about your blessed voice, he just knew he would be doing right by his brother if you accepted. 

“Wow, this is quite a decision, how long will I be staying at your clan?” you bit your lip swinging from side to side as you contemplate, no one has ever asked you to compete for someone else’s hand, people compete for yours. “Six months, if it doesn’t work out between you two and he decides to go in a different direction, though I can’t imagine why, we will grant you safe passage home.” you giggle at him sly comment.  

And you nod your head, “the Omatikaya are 3 days travel away from here as you know, I will not be able to visit my family, it is a big decision to make. I do not want to shut you down but I have no idea what your brother looks like” you tilt your head to the side slightly. Lo’ak sighs assuming you are about to shut him down. “Tell you what, how about you stay for dinner and leave first thing in the morning, I shall give you my answer then” you smile at them.  

You try to ignore the way they both look at each other in a celebratory way and you lead them back to the clan while they ask you questions about how you write your songs and your music, if it is true, you are also a good dancer. Their excitement to talk to you makes you smile, you had secretly always loved the attention that came with being famous, the way people always treated you nicely and how they travel the moon looking for you just to hear you sing.  

After dinner you get tucked away thinking about the situation, your parents have been hounding you about getting a mate for the longest, it is a bit difficult though. You always loved the gifts Eywa blessed you will but men do not want you for a wife, they want you for a lay. You are one of the most beautiful women on the moon according to some, you are something people want to say they have had, like an object. Mates should not treat you like that so you never committed to being anyone’s wife. Maybe Lo’ak’s brother will be different, maybe he will love you for you and not what you have. You knew you had your iPad and you can call your mother whenever you needed but you’ve never really been away from your family before. What if this doesn’t work out, what if you fall in love with him and he doesn’t love you back. No relationship is formed without risk, right? 

The next morning breakfast was served to your guests they made themselves ready to take off to their home clan. They must be relieved to be going home now, they definitely didn’t forget you told them you would have an answer now.  

“So, what’s it gonna be princess? Have you decided whether or not my brother is worth your time?” Lo’ak asked. 

“Well, I’m not sure about that I don’t know him how can I know if he is worth my time?” you giggle at him. “But what is reward without risk? I will be there.” Lo’ak and Korra both smiled at your answer and gave you a hug goodbye. Bidding them safe travels, you watched them fly away.  

“Are you sure about this sis?” your brother Kian asked you, he was your first younger brother, second born in your family. “I am, what is the worst that can happen? I come back here?” you snort making him laugh. “No, I know, I just do not want you to get hurt by this.” you smile at him then glance down to your feet, “We cannot control the things that happen baby brother, we can only control how we react to them.” 

You yanked on his tail and ran away leaving him to chase you in circles around your parents, you will miss them dearly.  

~ I hope you all like it so far! I’m not sure how much chapters I’m writing but as I update I’ll put them here so look it or comment to be tagged!

~ Reblogs, Comments and Likes are always appreciated

Taglist

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[cocoreallylovesraiden]

Hi hi hi! Loved ur mk1 sick!reader headcanons, they so silly so cute!

May I request headcanons for hypersomniac!reader? Like they're always tired and sleepy. I mainly wanna see Shang Tsung and Kenshi <3 so feel free to include anyone else you'd like, male or female 🥰

MK1 characters and hypersomniac! reader

(shang tsung, kenshi, kung lao + extra lin kuei trio)

this request was from MARCH um hey... hi... sorry... but im back....requests are open....

Shang Tsung

-He seems like the extremely productive type, so I can’t say I think he’d appreciate someone who is on the more tired side. 

-Will be a gigantic diva whenever you mention it, talking about how ‘he’s been up for thirty hours and hasn’t so much as made a pip!’ 

-Would make all sorts of alarming potions and elixirs to prevent you from feeling drowsy- for the most part they don’t work because he doesn't really know how to make things without lethal side effects (and does not want you to DIE)

-He makes a big deal that he’s going to dissect you or experiment on you if you fall asleep as a scare tactic, and you’ll jolt awake from a sweaty nap terrified that you don’t have all your limbs

-(You are just in the corner of his work space, bundled in pelts and left untouched) (This is overkill on the pelts you are melting here.)

-He turns around and looks at you like WHAT! WHAT DO YOU WANT! NO I DIDN’T EXPERIMENT ON YOU ARE YOU STUPID!! But it is ultimately well meaning… you think?

-In all honesty I think Shang Tsung is the kind to get irritated by constant noise, especially when he’s trying to focus, so if you’re more mellow because of it, he would personally appreciate it. 

-He will exclusively refer to you as sleepyhead or ‘you sleeping lug’ thought i hope you're ok with that

-Will flick your nose if he sees you nodding off

Kenshi

-I feel like he’d be an insomniac, losing sleep because of everything he’s gone through

-Depending on his mood he’d either be irritated or soothed by your hypersomniac tendencies 

-Though because he's an earthrealmer (read: someone with a phone and google) he’d be able to do his own research and realize that it’s something that can impact you too 

-Just like how nights are hard for him, daytime can be a struggle for you as well, and as much as he can rationalize this his head he does metaphorically roll his (late) eyes when he sees you nodding off.

-He feels very chivalrous when you fall asleep against his shoulder so it does get  you good brownie points there

-If someone noisier came in he’d do the super suave cool guy thing where he just puts a finger to his lips and then points at you (would feel very cool afterwards)

-In the event that yall go grocery shopping he will be at the pharmacist counter the entire time asking about vitamins supplements remedies etc and in the end you’ll have a bedside table full of pill bottles that make you feel geriatric 

-Will use you feeling tired as an excuse to leave any social function and will be so happy (you were not fine he was just extremely overwhelmed) ((he hates house parties the floor plan is unfamiliar))

-He’s lived a stressful life and is thankful to take it slower with you

-Until you’ve fallen asleep halfway through a movie and he needs you to describe a scene GET UP I NEED TO KNOW WHAT SWORD THE GUY IS USING IS IT ACCURATE

Kung Lao 

-Takes it upon himself to jumpscare you the moment he sees you dozing off

-He just finds it hilarious, and you DID say you wanted to feel less tired throughout the day!

-Unfortunately he’d be the least gracious about it if you were sensitive about your hypersomnia (even against shang god bless you) but would also never take it to heart

-Maybe the first or second time you fell asleep around him, he’d worry that you found him boring, but once you explain it to him he Does Not Mind at all

-I mean it's The Great Kung Lao how can you NOT feel lulled to sleep safe and sound (completely rhetorical question)

-In all honestly I think your condition might start to change the most you spend around him, either you’d become totally immune to him and therefore ALL noise intervention, or start being more awake

-Would start stacking mahjong tiles on your head, tying your shoelaces together, seeing how much he could do before you woke up

-This means that if you caught him dozing off you have full permission to take his hat and run off to hide it somewhere

-Start the timer, GO! Let’s see how long it takes for him to find it this time! (It’s lodged into the ceiling) ((he will take an hour to find it))

Kuai Liang

-If you are under him in the Shirai Ryu or Lin Kuei, i imagine he would be tough on you like a mentor 

-But if not? He would find you incredibly endearing, always making sure that the places you frequently met in the compound had nearby shade or comfortable seating 

-Encourages you to rest if you are tired, if you want to stop falling asleep, he’ll offer tea

Tomas Vrbada

-Gets scared by you while walking past you since you’re so quiet

-You scared the ninja! Good on you 

-Yells, jolts you awake, then apologizes profusely and then promptly asks if you are interested in becoming a ninja under his tutelage 

Bi Han 

-As long as you stay out of his line of schedule you’re fine

-I too would be pissed if I worked the whole day only to see a sleepy lil guy 

-Yawns whenever you yawn and then yells at you for making him yawn 

[buckiverse]

Between the Lines

☆--- paring: athlete!sylus x athlete!reader

[chapter 1/3]

☆--- summary: Sylus plays baseball, and you play softball at Linkon University. Unfortunately, both of you share the misfortune of suffering major injuries during the world championship, cutting your seasons short. With your athletic careers on hold, you and Sylus find yourselves rehabilitating together—working to rebuild not only your bodies but also your confidence in yourselves and your futures.

☆--- word count: 3.4k

☆--- warnings: murder mentioned, this is mostly world building tbh, eventual smut (not in this chapter), caleb & tara are mentioned

☆--- a/n: this story is very much me projecting, so enjoy! I was gonna make a mini vocab list type of thing, but honestly, I decided against it. But give me your thoughts guys I genuinely feel conflicted about writing a sports romance... essentially (╥_╥)

You started at Linkon University earlier in the fall. The campus was like nothing you had ever seen before, which was a high compliment from you since you grew up in the countryside. First, the sheer size of the place was enough to make you consider buying a scooter. You relocated closer to the university for your second degree, leaving behind your granny and best friend, Caleb. You understood the pains of being a commuter all too well, and for Law school, you decided not to repeat that mistake. 

It was darker now in the mornings. You took a deep breath and could smell the change in the season. You looked around and admired the change reflected on the campus. Birds flew overhead, migrating south in preparation for winter. Squirrels scaled the surrounding trees, busy working. The wind blessed your senses, the breeze blowing your hair, the crisp air causing you to sniffle from the chill. 

Warmth surrounded your body from your coat as you strolled down the paved path. Taking your time, you slowed your pace, observing the changes around you. Your favorite part was the colors that autumn brought about. It reminded you of your mother. She loved the change in season reflected by nature. 

You reached the large bulletin board stationed near the student center. From time to time, you check it out, always curious about what's going on around the school. Your gaze started from the top of the board, scanning your way down till the blue, gold, and white flier caught your eye. “Tryouts,” you said before grabbing it off the wall. “Softball tryouts.”

The clouds drew your head to the sky as you contemplated the flier. You used to enjoy playing when you were younger, but you still played occasionally. It had been a year since you’d picked up a glove. Your knee still screamed at you when the weather changed—the cold aching your old wounds. 

A signature ringtone came from your phone, distracting you from your thoughts. You opened the bag and grabbed your phone. You saw the incoming call from Caleb, “Yo, what’s up?” you said smoothly, giving the poster a one-over before folding and placing it into your bag. You resumed your steady stroll, making your way through campus.

“Hey, pip-squeak, just calling to see how’s law school going? Have you flunked out yet?” he teased. You laughed, imagining the face he was making on the other side of the phone. “No, actually, and I'm considering taking on a new hobby,” you replied smoothly. “I’m simply too efficient. I’m getting bored.” you joked, kicking a rock in your path. 

You were still adjusting to the grandeur of this campus. No matter how many months you committed here, you still needed help finding the law building. Your gaze followed the gothic architecture of the buildings. The stained glass and pointed arches got you thinking about changing your major. “And what would that be?” Caleb said, breaking through your thoughts.

“A sport,” you said. “I’ll leave you to guess which, but there are quite a few fliers around campus.” 

“Hmm, Softball?” he guessed. Your eyes opened wider as you saw the law building. Grand as this school was, this building was tucked away, but it still had a Romanesque charm. “Maybe–or maybe not, but I’ll call you later. I have a class to flunk out of,” you said. Caleb laughed at your elusiveness, “Break a leg in there.” You ended the call, climbing the steps and confirming the location for your day's first class. 

Linkon University was considered the pinnacle of achievement. It was one of the most prestigious universities in the country academically, and it also ranked among the top five for sports. Getting into Linkon for graduate school was an accomplishment and a big step toward your goals. You had dreamed of becoming a lawyer since you were a little girl. 

Opening your phone, you check the updated syllabus for your seminar class. Your eyes scanned the page, checking the topics for today's class, “Ethics and Justice,” you repeated quietly, processing the words on the page. 

To you, being a lawyer meant more than making a good living. It was about opportunity for justice. You distinctly remember the trial for your mother's murder, and the courtroom had a gloom about it. Seeing the somber mood your grandmother tried to hide from you was enough to shake your world. 

The trial began years after her passing, and you could see your grandmother trying to be strong for you. The judge called the court to rise, and the jury gave the verdict. When you heard the word guilty, a relief ran through you like no other. But, nothing could have prepared you for the following words: the sentencing of 10 years… 10 years for the lifetime of experiences stolen from you, and there was nothing you could do about it. 

You remember turning your head. Your face felt hot. Your ears were on fire, and rage ran through you–this couldn’t be right or fair. Even the feeling of your grandmother's arms enveloping you did not act as a comfort. She cradled your face, and the tears burned hot down your cheeks at the pain in your chest. 

That day, you decided to pursue law. Not just for justice, but ultimately for control, someone’s fate would lie in your hands–and you wouldn’t fail them how the prosecution failed you that day. 

The hallways of the law building were quiet as always, save for the occasional murmur of footsteps or the faint rustle of paper. Lost in thought, the memories of the sentencing racing in your mind. These days, you were reminded of your past more often than you liked to admit. 

Your eyes drifted upward to the arched ceiling, its intricate carvings like something from a history textbook. You let out a small sigh, trying to focus on the fact that you’d made it here, to Linkon, against all odds. 

And then you hit a wall.

Or, more accurately, a person. 

Your shoulder smacked against solid muscle, and the impact sent your bag sliding halfway down your arm. You stumbled back a step, muttering an apology as you adjusted your strap. “Sorry, I wasn’t—”

“Watching where you were going?” a voice cut in smoothly, tinged with amusement.

You looked up and were met with crimson eyes. Red–crimson. Like a warning sign. His smirk, paired with his annoyingly well-kept hair and that stupidly perfect posture, only made it worse. 

Your cheeks heated as you narrowed your eyes, irritation swiftly replacing your embarrassment. “Excuse me?” you said, your tone sharp.

“You should be,” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching as if holding back a laugh. “I’d hate for you to end up injured on your first day.”

The audacity. First, it wasn’t your first day—you’d been here for months. Second, what was his problem?

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I can handle myself,” you shot back, trying to mask the faint flush creeping up your neck.

His expression didn’t falter. If anything, he looked more amused now, leaning ever so slightly closer. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You opened your mouth to fire back another retort, but he stepped aside with a casual shrug before you could. “Good luck… rookie.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you dumbfounded and a little annoyed. Rookie?

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus. Whoever he was, you’d already decided he was annoying. He was probably some overconfident upperclassman who thought he owned the place.

You made a mental note to avoid him, refocusing on where you needed to be. 

You didn’t have to be first in class but needed a good seat, no exceptions. You picked up the pace, focusing on where you were going this time. When you found the room, you sat down and took a second to sink into the chair to relax. 

Your mind drifted to the man you ran into. “I wonder if he's a law student,” you muttered out loud. Not that it mattered.

You shifted your attention to the topic at hand. The class was starting soon, and other graduate students had warned you plenty of times that law school differs from your first degree. You reached for the legal pad in your bag, placing it on the table. It was covered in the notes from your readings on ethics and justice. 

Distracting you from your quiet mumbles while reviewing the coursework, a shorter brown-haired woman approached you. “Is this seat taken?” she asked smoothly. She had on a hat that said ‘Linkon Lions,’ and she wore athletic wear. Her figure was highlighted by the well-fitting clothes she had on. “I’m Tara, by the way.” 

“Oh, uh–no, it’s not, I’m y/n,” you responded. “Nice to meet you!” 

She sat next to you, and class went off without any issues. After your seminar, you packed your bag silently, looking up at Tara, “Hey, I was going to go to a local coffee shop. Do you wanna come?” you asked. You didn’t know her well, but she seemed nice enough, and you had a couple of classes with her.

“Yeah, I'm down,” she said swiftly, her face scrunching into a soft smile. You both worked your way to the coffee shop, opening the door for her. The coffee shop buzzed with a low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of ceramic cups against the tables. You placed your orders, picked them up from the counter, and sat in the shop's back corner. 

You sipped your drink, enjoying the warmth as it spread through your chest. Across the small table, Tara sat back in her chair, her brown hair pulled into a low ponytail. Her eyes lit up as she laughed at some joke about law professors.

“So,” she said, setting her cup down with a soft clink. “How’s your first semester treating you so far?”

You sighed dramatically. “Oh, you know, just drowning in legal briefs and case law. The usual.”

She nodded, her expression empathetic. “Same here. First-year law classes are no joke. And I’m trying to balance it with softball, which…” She trailed off with a wry smile, “...is its own kind of chaos.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait—you play softball? At Linkon?”

Tara grinned. “Yep. I’ve got two more years of eligibility left. I was redshirted most of undergrad, but I finally got some decent playing time last season. You play?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your coffee cup. “I used to. I mean, I was really into it my first year of undergrad. It was–kind of my escape. But I haven’t played competitively in years.”

Her brow arched, a curious smile playing on her lips. “You should come to tryouts. The team could always use good players, and walk-ons are rare but not unheard of.”

“I don’t know…” You glanced down at your drink, suddenly fascinated by the swirl of foam. “It’s been so long. I don’t even know if I’d still be good enough.”

Tara waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. If you loved it enough to play seriously during undergrad, it’s still in you. Muscle memory, right?”

You chuckled weakly. “Muscle memory or muscle cramping.”

She laughed, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Tell you what—if you decide to try out, I’ll help you prep. We can hit the field before tryouts get you back into the swing of things.”

“You’d do that?” you asked, surprised by her offer.

“Of course! It’s always nice to have more women on the team who know what they’re doing.” She took another sip of her coffee, a smirk curling her lips. “Besides, if you’re half as competitive in softball as you seem about law school, you’ll fit right in.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The idea of trying out still terrified you, but having someone like Tara in your corner made it feel a little less daunting. Maybe this was the push you needed.

You made your way to your hole-in-the-wall apartment. It was bad enough that you were attending a prestigious university because the cost of attendance reflected that. You strolled, allowing yourself to soak up the tranquility of your surroundings. The green of the large trees had a way of calming your senses, even if your mind felt chaotic. 

You reached the brown building, entering the back alleyway to enter the door to the apartment. You sat down on the cot on your floor, hugging your knees. You dropped your head to rest on your kneecaps, and the flier from earlier popped into your mind. It really wouldn’t hurt to try out. It’s not committing to anything long-term. 

Linkon University felt like both a new beginning and a test of endurance. Between case law briefs and endless nights of research, you wondered if chasing both your dreams was even possible. You reached for your phone, your thumb hovering over Caleb’s contact. He’d know what to say right now. You waited as your phone rang, hugging your knees tighter. 

You explained yourself to him, and you hoped he’d understand. 

“So, you’re just going to stay holed up in your apartment and overthink this, huh? Solid strategy. I’m sure the team will be super impressed by your tryout performance—live from your living room.” he said. 

You groaned, “Not now, Caleb.”

“What? I’m just saying. Sitting on your couch isn’t exactly going to help,” he said. You sat up fully, adjusting your position in the bed. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering. It’s been years since I played competitively. What if I show up and I’m terrible? What if they laugh?” What if I'm wasting my time? The fear was paralyzing. 

“Hmm. Okay, let me think. When have you ever been terrible at anything you cared about? Oh, right—never.” he replied, his tone mocking. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic.” 

“No, seriously. You’re a natural. Do you think I forgot all those times you turned impossible plays into routine outs? You could probably still crush it even if you hadn’t touched a glove in ten years.”

“I’m not the same person anymore. And what if I embarrass myself–or fail?” you responded hushedly. “It just feels like the only thing I was sure about is Law School, and now that I’m here, I’m not even sure about that.” your voice trailed off.

“Look, I get it. Things have changed. You’re not the same person.” he said softly. “You’re better. You’ve got this, okay? You’ve always had this. Just think why you wanted to try out in the first place–go to school in the first place. You love the game. You love the law. And honestly, I think you miss proving to yourself just how amazing you are.”

You leaned back on your forearms, contemplating, “I guess so…”

“Alright, here’s the deal: if you don’t go, I’ll drag you to that field, even if I have to drive from the granny’s house. And you know I’d do it.” 

You laughed softly, “You would, wouldn’t you?

“Oh, absolutely. With a megaphone. And maybe I’ll sing an encouraging song, too.” You smiled, imagining the performance now, “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah. But I’m also right. Go out there and do your thing, okay? You owe it to yourself. And hey, if they don’t see how great you are, they don’t deserve you anyway.”

“Okay. You’re right. I’ll go.”

—

Training with Tara was quite the adjustment. You knew this might be difficult, but you didn't realize how out of shape you’d become in just a year. 

“Keep pushing. You’re almost there,” Tara said, encouraging you. You had to remind yourself ‘mind over matter,’ taking control of your actions. 

But that was easier said than done when your lungs felt like they were on fire and your mouth was starting to taste like blood… You ran another rep, reaching the orange cone at first base. You tapped the cone, finally slowing down your pace, looking to your right—practicing good habits.

“I knew I struggled with endurance—but I don’t remember it feeling that bad,” you said, kneeling over as you held onto your knees. 

“You should try the athletic center,” she said, looking at you a bit concerned. One of the coaches could give you a weight card—to build endurance gradually.” You peered up at her, pondering the request in your mind. “Not a bad idea,” you said, short of breath. 

–

Later, after you finished up with Tara, you took her advice. Finding your way to the athletic center, you walked through the double doors. Everything about this school is grand.

The ceilings expanded as tall as the length of the building. Though this part of the building was admittedly more modern, the detailed pillars caught your attention. The athletic center was separated into three parts. The first part of the floor had workout equipment, even a separate pool area at the far end of the facility. The second floor had some more equipment, some things for rock climbing, some offices, and the rehabilitation center, which was your desired destination. 

Those injured and not injured alike attended this facility area, getting advice and training from the coaches. 

The clang of weights and low chatter filled the athletic center, but the sound softened to a quieter hum as you climbed the stairs toward the rehabilitation center. You paused at the entrance, unsure if you were even supposed to be there. The space was bustling, with trainers moving between stations, clipboard in hand, and athletes stretching or working through carefully monitored exercises. 

You spotted him before he spotted you. The guy from your first day (not really)–the one you’d bumped into. His striking red eyes and sharp features made him impossible to miss, even in a room full of athletes. He was seated on a padded bench, his left arm cradled in a sling, and his expression–a mix of irritation and determination–was fixed on a trainer who appeared to be giving instructions.

What’s he doing here? You wondered.

Not wanting to be caught staring, you ducked your head and moved toward the back of the room, pretending to look for something—or someone. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you’d noticed him.

As you passed by the station closest to him, his voice stopped you in your tracks. “I told you, it's fine. I don’t need to sit out. Just tape it up, and I’ll play through it.”

The trainer sighed, his tone firm. “Sylus, we’ve been over this. You tore your rotator cuff. Playing through it isn’t an option unless you want permanent damage. I know how much the team means to you, but you’re useless to them if you can’t pitch again.”

Sylus. So that was his name.

“I don’t care if I can pitch again,” Sylus grit out, frustration sharpening his tone. “I care about being there for my team now. Missing the playoffs isn’t an option.”

The trainer crossed his arms, unmoved. “If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’ll lose more than the playoffs. You’ll lose the game altogether. Think about that, Sylus.”

There was a pause, the weight of the trainer’s words hanging heavy in the air. Sylus didn’t reply, his jaw tightening as he looked away, his fingers flexing absently on his good hand.

You ducked behind a column, heart thumping in your chest. You’d come to this school expecting greatness from everyone around you, but hearing him talk like that made you realize how much pressure everyone was under. How much he was under.

He’s not just some arrogant jerk, you thought, remembering his amused grin when you’d bumped into him. He’s carrying something heavier than he lets on.

You debated whether to say something—to let him know you’d overheard—but you shook the thought away. What would you even say? Instead, you slipped out of the rehab center, your mind racing.

As you left, you found yourself thinking of Sylus differently. He was still annoying—there was no doubt about that—but now, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of understanding. Maybe even curiosity.

[willowcried]

ATOMIC LOVE

finding a good spot to read tonight was nearly impossible. as you expected, the abandoned gas station was out of energy, and starting a bonfire wasn’t an option—warmth would attract hostile night creatures infected with radiation. you guys learned that the hard way the night before.

lucy knows how much you love to read, which is why you brought your favorite book to the wasteland, even though it didn’t seem like an indispensable object.

“i have an idea,” lucy says with a side smile, seeing you struggle.

lucy’s on the floor, sitting on it, her back against the wall as she pats the cement as an invitation. you gladly accept, joining her. she kissed your cheek with that dumb, dazed expression she always had when she suddenly felt overwhelmed by her love for you.

she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to punch you in the face, though. she doesn’t even know how you sneaked behind her and didn’t reveal yourself until it was too late. she was scared that you could get hurt because of her. but you were scared she would get hurt without you.

she commented on your imprudence a million times since you both left the vault—and it had only been two days. but her complaints were useless. whether she liked it or not, you were stuck with her. you’ve always been.

“idiot,” she mumbles close to your ear, her smile widening as she shakes her head in disbelief. she presses some buttons on the device wrapped around her wrist, its screen brightening. she throws her right arm around your shoulders, adjusting her arm so her pip-boy would light up the words on your pages.

you feel like exploding at her sweet gesture, but shut up about it. with your head on her shoulder, you start reading out loud, since lucy once mentioned your voice calmed her. and you guess it’s true by the way she falls asleep on you before you could even finish one chapter.

you stop immediately, too scared to even grab the page marker and leave the book aside. it’s not like you were expecting her to survive more than two chapters, anyway. instead, you memorize the page number—327—and then leave it resting on your belly, careful as ever.

wishing you could’ve at least kissed her good night, you manage to cease the urge by just caressing her leg that is tangled with yours. meatdog, who was sitting next to lucy’s other side, figured it was “bed” time, so she let her body fully relax, resting her chin on lucy’s chest. she did this ever so gently that you wondered if she also didn’t mean to wake lucy up.

you smile, also relaxing into your girlfriend’s shoulder as you mumble a quiet, “night, loves.”

HELP PALESTINE

[naturesapphic]

if you’re accepting requests,

please could you do a Jade x fem reader where R’s thing is butterfly knives and Jade’s is obviously her scissors, they both sit at lunch talking to the gang and R does a cool trick and Rex makes some comment about her being good with her hands and Jade is like ‘oh you bet she is’ then starts heavily making out w R until everyone is telling them to stop but then Jade straddled R and that’s when everyone runs off but Cat and they part once they know everyone is gone and start to ask Cat about the fake blood they needed for a prank on Tori because she pissed them off, Cat does the “You wanted fake blood?” And Jade looks confused while R is happily like “NO WAY?! IT REAL?!” and Jade looks at her and R bows her head muttering a sorry and goes back to flipping around her knife

Thank you, you’re one of the few people on this app that do Jade one shots well so I knew you’d deliver

-Anon✂️

Butterfly Knife Girl

Jade west x fem!reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of fake/real blood, violent, making out

The sun was out and the wind was blowing as you, your girlfriend, and the rest of y’all’s friends were outside having lunch everyday as usual. You were showing everyone your new trick with your butterfly knife and cat was amazed by it. “Yayyy! Do it again!” Cat said happily as she clapped her hands excitedly.

You give her a friendly smile and do it again as cat sits there amazed. “I bet y/n is good with her hands.” Rex said cockily as he laughs. “Rex!” Robbie shouts and you blush wildly as Jade looks over at you with a smirk. “Oh you bet she is.” Jade said with a smirk as she grabs your face in her hands and kisses you heavily. “Aw come on guys!” Andre said. “Cant the both of you do it later?” Tori pipped in and beck agreed.

No matter how many times yalls friends told the both of you to stop, jade didn’t let go of your face with her lips. Jade didn’t give a fuck and straddled your lap as your hands flew to her waist. Everyone groaned besides cat as she was playing with her fork making it an airplane. Everyone left, leaving you, Jade, and cat alone. You pulled away which made Jade pout but you quickly nodded behind her to show her that all of them were gone except cat.

Jade smiled and got off your lap but still had her arm wrapped around your shoulder. “So cat. Did you get the fake blood for the prank on Tori I’m going to do?” Jade asked cat. Cat gave her a frown and went to her side to pick up a gallon of blood and put it on the table to show her. “You wanted fake blood?” Cat said slowly. Jade gave cat a weird, shocked look but you were ecstatic. “NO WAY ITS REAL?!” You said happily until Jade looked over at you and raised her eyebrow which made you bow your head.

“Sorry…” you muttered and started playing with your knife again. Jade chuckled and kissed the top of your head gently. “No worries babygirl.” She reassured you and you looked up at her with a smile that melted her black heart. “I don’t care what kind of blood it is. I just need it.” Jade stated and cat nodded, handing her the gallon of blood. Jade smiles and places it beside her as cat gets up and skips away. The two of you sit together and finish your lunch until the bell rings. You both get up and throw away your trash, hands intertwined as the both of you head to your classes together.

A/n: thank you anon and I hope you enjoy this! #Anon✂️ and I hope the rest of y’all enjoy it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest. I love y’all!

[theweepingangelofcas]

Pip pip from your friendly neighbourhood lurker, I saw your requests are open and so I shall request my fluffy little idea to you dear writer and I hope you find just as funny and sweet as I did.

So for my request for the mtp bois basically on TikTok I saw a vid where a gf found her bf sleeping on the soft and decided to prank him by setting up a fake game of uno (but you can choose a different board game/card game if you want) once set up she starts shaking him awake and telling him its his turn obviously confused and half asleep but still takes his turn.

I don’t have any pacifically for this request so I’m leaving up to you to choose who would be best for this scenario.

From yours truly,

Your friendly neighbourhood lurker 

Hello, Friendly Neighborhood Lurker! For your ask, I decided on a few things on my own. Sadly, I don't believe uno existed during the Victorian era, so I opted for chess instead (a game I am absolute trash at, but shall write about it nonetheless). I also decided that William and Sherlock would be the most likely to fall asleep on the sofa during a busy day, so they will be our victims lol

***********************

My Turn? - Moriarty Boys x Reader

William Moriarty

Your poor William had been working himself to death lately.

Between the long days of teaching, long evenings of grading papers, and long nights of committing acts of violence, it was a miracle he ever got any sleep.

So when he finally fell into a deep slumber on the sofa one lazy morning, you knew now was the perfect time to spring your trap.

William awoke to the realization of a few things. 1. There was fresh tea brewing beside him. Earl grey, as far as he could tell. 2. You were sitting beside him. The floral notes of your favorite perfume was unmistakeable. 3. You were calling to him. Gently, lovingly. It brought him out of his slumber in the most lovely way he could imagine. His eyes opened sluggishly, turning his head to look over at you. "Yes, y/n? What is it?" He yawned, trying to focus on your words. You giggled, "It's your turn, William." He realized what you were talking about. There was a chessboard in front of you, set up next to said previously mentioned tea. The table between you two held snacks as well, set up like one of your usual game nights. He observed the board, before chuckling himself, "I can assure you, my dear, I am not the one who placed these pieces. But, to humor you..." He picked up a pawn, using it to behead one of your knights. Another laugh, "Why do you say that, Will? We were playing, and you must've been so tired you dozed off-" "This board is set up to a Stafford's gambit. Though I am no great chess player, even I know that this is a poor choice of plays." You finally released your laughter, trying to scoff it down to no avail, "And here I was, dear, hoping I had finally tricked you." Finally, he sat up. leaning across the table to give you a peck on the cheek. "Mm. Maybe one day, my sweet girl. Maybe one day."

Sherlock Holmes

This man is the most manic creature ever created by fiction, do you think he sleeps on a regular basis?

He's too smart to fall for your tricks after just one nap, which is why you waited for a much different occurance to happen...

You waited til he was coming back from a case.

"Dove?!" He was elated. His latest case had truly been genius. A devious crime scene, a truly mad perpetrator, everything he could have wanted! Even a headless nun! He simply had to tell you, his beloved partner of 2 years, all about it! "I'm over here where you left me, Lock!" He ran to you, bounding over heaps of books that he had looked through earlier, before joining you on the ragged sofa. In front of you was a chessboard, still in the early few plays. "Did John play a few games with you? Goodness knows that man is rubbish at chess. He should stick to being a doctor." You laughed, placing your hand on his knee, "No, dear, remember? We were just starting our game when Lestrade barged in and asked for your help." His face fell, trying to recall the events earlier that day. Truly, he couldn't recall too much besides following Lestrade out the door. A guilty look marred his face, "Dove, I am so sorry. I don't even remember. The case, it took up so much of my mind..." He looked over to you. Normally, he would have expected you to look sad. Disappointed, maybe. Instead, you had a smile. He took an extra second to observe the layout in front of him. Those were not any type of moves he would have played. He pinched your arm, and you squealed, "Liar. Good one, though. You almost got me." A kiss on your cheek, and he picked up one of your bishops off of the board. "Now, let me tell you about the headless nun."

[risingchaos]

Explanation of Cuff Bands in Star Trek (The Original Series and Strange New Worlds)

Pips TNG onward explained + details of what each rank does

In TOS, they hadn’t figured out the pip system yet, so they did wrist bands to signify rank instead. It’s not nearly as straightforward as the pips, but once you get a hang of it, it helps tons. Plus they rarely call anyone by their rank in TOS, often going by mister or miss. This will mostly have close ups of TOS characters.

Now, Starfleet is based upon the U.S. Navy, so the names used are those. I’ve broken down the ranks in greater detail in the post linked above, so this one is just for knowing the ranking of each band and a brief explanation.

If you just want to know the look, there is a guide at the end for you. :)

—————

Description of the line looks for anyone who needs it: Dashed lines are long gold dashes perpendicular to the cuff, curving slightly upwards on one side and downwards on the other for each dash, like the shape of an eraser on its side. Solid lines are a straight gold band perpendicular to the cuff with another solid gold line wrapped around it. It almost looks like the two are intertwined. Bars are explained briefly later for Admirals, but they look like one straight gold band with two of the previously mentioned solid lines pressed against each side on the top and bottom with no space between.

For Strange New Worlds, replace any mention of a dashed line a thin straight line and any mention of a solid line as a thick straight line. I have not found any actual explanation for Admirals in SNW, but they have different Starfleet badges.

Cadet - Uniform Distinction

As far as I know we don’t actually meet any in TOS, but we do in SNW. In basically all Star Trek media, cadets wear red/all red uniforms. Cadets are people still in the Academy, not yet graduated. They can still serve on ships for training, however. Cadet Uhura is a lovely example of this.

Petty Officer - Insufficient Information

I am not sure if Petty Officers exist in TOS or appear in SNW, I searched for a while to find solid proof. The closest I could find for TOS was that maybe in The Motion Picture there was a Petty Officer with a triangle insignia, and that there was a character named Samno in Star Trek VI who was a PO and a Yeoman. If anyone can confirm/deny/offer anything, I will add it to this.

Yeoman

Yeoman are assistants in Starfleet. They’re only used in TOS, and their system is kind of strange. You can hold a ranked position while still being a Yeoman, shown through an unnamed character who had Junior Lieutenant markings on her sleeve while being addressed as a Yeoman. They generally are Ensigns, however.

Ensign - Blank sleeve

Ensigns have blank sleeves. I think this is probably for practicality for budget reasons in TOS, but most background actors are ensigns. Ensigns are graduates from the Academy and just anyone who hasn’t climbed the chain yet.

Lieutenants

Junior Lieutenant - Single dashed [•]

The only example I could find was a man named Joe Tormolen from the episode “The Naked Time” as the guy who dies at the start. Junior Lieutenants feature a singular dotted line on the cuffs.

Lieutenant - Single solid [~]

Most crew members we see are Lieutenants. Lieutenants are working consoles, navigating, going on away teams. Hikaru Sulu and Nyota Uhura in TOS.

Lieutenant Commander - Single dashed, single solid [•~]

Lieutenant Commanders are integral to running the ship. Heads of departments and the ones who run day to day activities aboard the ship. Chief Engineer Montgomery “Scotty” Scott was one of these.

Commander - Two solid [~~]

The First Officer on the ship. This is second in command, the right hand to the Captain. In TOS, our Commander Spock is also the head of the science department.

Captain - Single solid, single dashed, single solid [~•~]

Captains we all know. They are the head of the ship, the man who has to keep it level and realistic at all times, though our lovely Captain Kirk isn’t exactly known for level-headedness. He also has the green wraparound shirt that has the V shaped gold detailing by the neckline with a small gold line between.

Admirals

Admirals have an extra silly thing. They have a bar. It looks like if you smushed two of the solid bars together with a straight gold piece between. Admirals usually have different uniforms but they honestly change rather frequently. We meet Admirals few and far between in any ST show, but I’ve put them below nonetheless.

Here is a complete guide to each wrist cuff design in Starfleet’s early days, excluding Cadets, Petty Officers, and Ensigns.

A dot • indicates a dash line, a squiggle ~ indicates a solid line, and a hyphen - indicates a bar.

Junior Lieutenant - [•]

Lieutenant - [~]

Lieutenant Commander - [•~]

Commander - [~~]

Captain - [~•~]

Commodore/Rear Admiral (lower half) - [-]

Rear Admiral (upper half) - [~-]

Vice Admiral - [-~-]

Admiral - [~~-~]

Fleet Admiral - [~~-~~]

—————

Hopefully this helps you understand as much as it did me when I first figured it all out. Took a minute to get some research done. Let me know if anything is worded strangely or if the descriptions aren’t clear enough. I tried to be detailed with it at the start. If anyone has extra information or needs more, please comment or message me! I will answer/clarify to the best of my ability.

I love putting together this kind of thing so if anyone wants more lists like this, let me know. Enjoy.

[overnowsfcb]

halfway out the door; fermín lópez

summary: fighting to keep a little flame alive underwater, you couldn't lose the only stable thing in your life

warnings: ANGST!!! (no good ending) mature language, mental health issues (panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress), relationship struggles, unhealthy dinamics, brief mention of smut themes. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 3,3k

note: hiii! it's me again, this time posting for my sweet boy (who is not as sweet in this story) fermín. im planning to do something with all the 1989 vault tracks x barça players. so take it as the first from the series!! also, apologies if the angst hits hard, promise to post fluff next time (its a bit of challenge for me haha) super excited about this and would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions! – venus 🫂💐🫧 p.s.: im so proud of this one tbh

He didn’t seem to have enough time for you anymore. You didn’t want to see the subtle twist, but you knew him all too well and an imperceptible change for everyone was an imposing earthquake in your world.

It was in the hours that your messages would be waiting for a response and the way he wasn’t starved to taste your lips anymore. Once, he’d find an excuse to be with you, even if only for brief minutes. He’d dash to your apartment bearing your favorite chocolate with the pretext of keeping you fed. A smile brightening and your stomach still produced the same fluttering butterflies, as the first time he kissed you underneath the moonlight at fourteen.

Back then, everything was perfect, the chill air in your faces as you ran with sand getting between your toes, you could still feel his timid hands and tender touch on your waist as you both shared a breathtaking kiss.

Your mother's words echoed - relationships don't last forever. You'd always dismissed her musings, attributing them to the bitterness stemming from your father's departure. But now, that thought held a glimmer of truth.

He was your soulmate, your solid backbone, he would hold the candles for you even if his arm grew weary, drawing strength from unimaginable places. Unseen pictures would fill his phone, capturing your candid moments, proudly setting you as his lock screen. One cherished memory stood out: a photo of you, pajama-clad, returning from a late-night ice cream run, a victorious smile on your face. You had lost a bet that day, darting to the store at 1 AM, just a street away from your building.

However, now everything appeared to be falling apart; the last picture in his gallery folder, titled 'I love, mine, mine, mine,' dated back to July, and it was already November. It contrasted the warmth of July with the chilling absence of recent affection.

Yearning for something to blame, tears seemed futile as memories replayed relentlessly, etched deep within your heart. Each sob felt like a painful reminder of the emptiness in the cold, desolate bed without him by your side. Staring at it blankly, your mind echoed the silent void, your chest tightening with every expelled breath.

Sleeping alone always felt unbearable. You reached for your phone, gazing at the lock screen displaying a snapshot of both of you in a summer pool. His outings with friends never bothered you; you accepted that he was now part of Barcelona's first team, and you weren't his priority. However, deep down, a simple goodnight message like "Sweet dreams, Pip, I love you" was all you silently longed for. Was it too much to ask from someone who claimed to love you?

The absence weighed heavily as you saw the clock strike 4 AM. This hour always induced a sense of dread, a time too late to sleep, opening the gates to wandering thoughts about life's choices. Moving to Barcelona for him might have been a hasty decision.

In Sevilla, there wasn't much to lose. Your little town overwhelmed you, especially under the weight of your living nightmare, your mother and her pursuit of perfection. That was until she married your toddler brother’s father, her focus shifted almost forgetting about your existence.

He was your escape from that suffocating environment. Initially, it felt liberating, but gradually, it became confining again. The cage expanded as you became his pillar while his name was in everyone’s mouth, especially girls who found him attractive. The weight of being his support, witnessing the attention he received, caused an internal storm. But he wouldn’t change you, right? Yet, the conflict brewed within, the tug-of-war between being the support he needed and holding onto your own identity.

You grew tired of waiting for him, tossing and turning in bed for ten minutes, before finally succumbing to sleep, cocooned in blankets to ward off the cold.

Abruptly opening your eyes, hours later, your body spasmed and your heart raced, reflecting the recent struggles with sleep these days. Observing to your side, relief washed over you; he lay there peacefully, an arm draped over your waist.

Tears welled in your eyes, a sense of loss filling your chest. Deeply in love, you realized your first waking thought was about him, albeit taking a negative turn.

What if I lose him? What if I lost the lighthouse in the middle of the sea? The uncertainty of the waters and the potential fall weighed heavily.

You wanted to get back to those times when you smiled as you landed your eyes, his body next to you, where blonde strands of messy hair framed his face and you delicately organized them while you talked and kissed every morning, staying in bed like an old married couple, feeling each other's warmth, laughter used to fill the air as he playfully booped your nose.

The weight of invisible hands squeezed your chest, making each breath a desperate gasp for air.

You didn't want to feel this anxiety; your breath became erratic. Rushing to the terrace, you breathed as if your mind forewarned a trailer of what has to be.

Struggling to regain control, your hands tightened on the cold railing, a reminder of the grounding reality you struggled to grasp.

Peering down, the height induced paralysis, intensifying your vertigo. "y/n, estás bien?" (are you okay?) His concerned voice, muffled and distant, struggled to penetrate the thick fog of panic, fear rooted you in place, afraid the floor would fall through if you made a step.

"Amor, háblame." (darling, talk to me) He approached, unsure. This panic attack was the first in years. His hand on your shoulder offered reassurance like an anchor, and you emerged from the state, meeting his gaze with your tear-stained eyes; he was still your gentleman. He was still yours.

And you needed to repeat it to stave off madness.

"Abrázame," (hug me) you whispered in a fragile plea. His arms enveloped you, he was the refuge that you needed; his familiar scent eased your breathing.

His head on yours, he sought to share his heartbeat, attempting to quell the sudden anxiety and the questions that haunted your mind. His furrowed brows hinted at his confusion, but conversation could wait. For now, it was about you. The one who never failed him; he couldn't fail you now.

When your body distended completely, he gently guided you back to bed. You clung to him, as if he could run away at any moment.

You walked to your side of the bed and he tucked you in like no one ever did before, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead, an attempt to dissipate the negativity.

“What time is it?” you inquired, looking up at him.

“Six a.m., sleep. ok?” He stroked your head, and your eyes closed under the weight of fatigue. “I love you so much.”

Days passed after the incident. He chose not to ask more about the reason behind your anxiety, he decided to act as if everything was fine.

This didn't imply he lacked concern for you, but it certainly felt that way. His demeanor towards you was still unchanged.

Feelings unaddressed hung in the air, manifesting in the cold kisses and the superficial small talk that never deepened. But, in front of everyone, you maintained the façade, accepting compliments from everyone about your seemingly perfect relationship. Only if they knew the underlying truth…

Yet, you personally sensed his gradual withdrawal, a palpable feeling of him slipping through your fingers. The strain became evident as you found yourself having to repeat things that were important to you at least three times, only for him to continually forget. Or the lackluster pecks he gave you, making you feel pathetic.

Although feeling unwanted, you weren't a resentful person, so you would religiously sit in the stands at every game and witness how he gained fan's hearts with outstanding performances on the pitch, earning the title of man of one of the champions league matches and you loved how the stadium echoed his name as he made an incredible goal.

You found joy in his happiness, doing his thing with the team of his dreams. In that moment, your mind transported into a different time – those moments when you stood by his side, offering comfort during his moments of self-doubt, back when he believed his dreams would forever be just that – dreams.

His satisfaction meant the world to you. Meeting him as he emerged from the dressing room, already showered, you couldn't help but admire how his wet hair framed his face.

A big smile adorned his face as he approached you. Opening your arms, your bodies collided as he effortlessly lifted you spinning around, creating a whirlwind of laughter that filled the air.

Once he gently set you down, you couldn't contain your pride. Cupping his cheeks, you locked eyes with him. The sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Your lips met his in a deep, meaningful kiss – one that hadn't been shared in weeks, but in that moment, it felt like the perfect reunion.

You believed this moment marked a fresh start, a much-needed rejuvenation to propel you forward. That optimistic outlook, however, disintegrated after he bid you farewell at your apartment, scrolling through TikTok on your couch, a video of his post-match interview caught your eye, and an involuntary smile crept onto your face.

His voice echoed through the video, captivating in its beauty. The interviewer's final question lingered in the air, "Who are you going to celebrate this with?" Anticipating a mention of teammates, family, and you, you were bewildered as the final words left his mouth – your name conspicuously absent.

And in that instant, the realization struck: he hadn't kept his promise to do a heart gesture to include you in his celebration either. But you decided to let it slide; perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that caused him to forget, and you were willing to overlook it.

You turned on the TV to avoid your thoughts. He no longer watched movies with you, and lately, the time you spent together felt like his phone held more allure than anything you did to catch his attention.

Without even mentioning that he wasn't fucking you lately, offering excuses of exhaustion from training or unexpectedly halting any progress when things got heated and leaving your folds wet.

But still, your mouth stayed shut, justifying every action. What you didn't know is that only one drop was missing in the glass before it overflowed – the last straw.

And eventually, the bomb exploded in the least suitable scenario. You stood by his side, his arm around your waist, desperately wanting to take his hand out and shout your feelings in front of everyone.

You didn't want to be there; you longed to be at home with your fluffy cat, who offered more comfort than Fermín did in these past months.

He was so smooth about it, engrossed in the conversation with his friends, seemingly oblivious to your distress. You whispered in his ear that you needed to get home, you weren’t feeling at your best, the strobe lights blinding you, the music pulsating louder than your heartbeat. It felt like water was reaching your nose, and you feared you'd stop breathing any moment.

Yet, you stayed, like a naive girl striving to make everything perfect for her lovely gentleman. But was still that gentleman who put you above all else?

The voices and laughter from his friends overwhelmed you. While you genuinely liked them and had never encountered an issue before, this night seemed a challenge you couldn't survive.

Your gaze darted around, hoping for a savior amid the sea of faces. But there was no one.

The air seemed to get thinner, and your chest constricted, as if locked in a slowly tight embrace. The blue dress discomforting your skin, felt like an additional layer of confinement, fantasizing to shed not only the fabric but also the skin beneath.

It was as if transparent walls were materializing around you, and this was the moment to escape a place to which you didn't belong, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece, you watched him again with pleading eyes, silently urging him to notice you.

“Fer, really, I need to go home.” You whispered, careful not to let his friends overhear. He scanned your gestures, it took him a few seconds to realize that something about you was off. You wish he had seen it earlier.

Everything he did was later than you needed it, when he did the things, you have already fixed yourself into the uncomfortable.

“Okay, let's go.” He nodded and he finally took out his hand off your waist, allowing a momentary exhale. Greetings were exchanged with his friends and you reciprocated, not wanting to show an impolite image.

Almost running, your feet propelled you outside of the disco, pushing people out of your way, without waiting for Fermín.

The doors swung shut behind you, plunging the abrupt silence upon your ears. Relief washed over you.

Closing your eyes, you took deep breaths. You needed to hold yourself like the grown woman you were and not cry. As the doors swung open and closed again, you turned to find Fermín, a frown etched across his face.

“Why didn't you wait for me?” his voice held a trace of anger, making you shiver. Realizing the street wasn't the place for such a conversation, you began walking towards the car, your feet aching from the high heels worn that night.

He hurried to catch up, the tension palpable. When the car alarm reached your ears, signaling it was unlocked, you opened the door and entered as quickly as you could.

Sitting there, attempting to adjust to sudden silence, you sensed his presence beside you.

Leaning back into the headrest, you brought your hands on your face.

He started talking again. “What's going on you?” you hesitated to face him, reluctant to confront those expressive brown eyes you memorized like the back of your hand.

As he insisted again to hear a response, anger got to your head. Without warning, you exploded, all the carefully restrained words meant to preserve your relationship pouring into a torrent.

“I'm just so damn exhausted! I feel like I'm invisible. I ache to be seen, to matter in your eyes again. I’ve been here, baring my soul, and it feels like you're a million miles away.” Your scream echoed, tears smudging your makeup. You saw the weight of his actions settling on him as his eyes reflected comprehension. A sob escaped your lips, he stood frozen. “I'm just asking you to hear me, to truly see me, and realize that I'm shattering inside because I've already fought too much alone for the person who I thought I would marry.”

He shook his head, a boy who had always the right words now seemed that they left their mind, leaving him defenseless. A hesitant pause filled the car.

Lips parted, but the sentences seemed to dissipate before finding form. It was as if they were navigating a maze of thoughts, searching for the right words to offer comfort or understanding, yet coming up empty-handed.

You got tired of waiting, you've been doing it for such a long time, you almost felt old. But if he just opened his mouth, you knew you would forgive him. “Let's go home.” You whispered, disappointed about a man who you were calling the love of your life.

He gripped the steering wheel and hit the road. Memories flooded back of the anecdotes shared in that white car, now slipping through your fingers like ash.

You pondered the absence of rain, almost expecting the heavens to open up. Wasn't it obligatory for the sky to weep when something magical began succumbing to rationalism?

When you arrived at the house, he finally was able to speak. “I'm so sorry for everything that I caused you.” He didn't know if physical contact would be well received from you. So he gripped even more the steering wheel, needing to make something with his hands, getting out the tension.

“What happened to us, Fer?” your heart-wrenching question hitting him. You were already talking in past tense.

There wasn't an exit for this situation, and he knew that. He wished he could build a time travel machine and make everything alright, fix the first mistake that led to this big snow ball that was making an avalanche. “I-I don't know.”

“I think I'm coming back to Sevilla.” you confessed, stepping out of the car. Your headache due to the tears that you've been letting out and your eyes were puffy.

As you stood outside the car, the quiet suburban street provided a bleak contrast to the storm raging within your emotions.

Fermín, still gripping the steering wheel, searched for words that could somehow mend the gashes that had formed between you two. The realization of the inevitable distance settled on him like a heavy cloak.

“I never meant for it to come to this,” he finally uttered, voice heavy with remorse. “I let things slip away, and I can't forgive myself for that.”

You, caught between the pain and the need for resolution, gazed at him with a mixture of sorrow and longing. The familiar surroundings of the neighborhood seemed to transform into a backdrop for the end of something significant. You already knew you were never coming back here.

In the distance, a streetlamp flickered, casting intermittent shadows on the pavement. You took a deep breath, the chill in the air stinging your lungs, and said, “Sometimes, we have to go back to move forward.”

His eyes, filled with regret, met yours. “Is there anything I can do to make things right?”

But the answer remained unsaid, it wouldn't be fair to give him instructions and keep rowing and carrying him while he was just there. Wounds were already too deep and your energy was drained.

You turned away, the distance between Sevilla and this quiet street growing smaller in comparison to the emotional gap that now separated you two.

The door creaked shut, marking the end of a chapter that perhaps, in the unfathomable depths of your heart you didn't want to admit that you anticipated it.

In the solitude of your apartment, surrounded by echoes of shared laughter and the ghost of a love that once flourished, you confronted the daunting task of rebuilding your world. The faint glow from the streetlamp outside cast a melancholic light on the remnants of what was.

Fermín, still parked, felt the shared years withering in the blink of an eye, something you had been discerning for a torturing amount of time. The engine hummed softly, an averse companion to the lingering regret in the air. As he drove away, the distance between your hearts seemed insurmountable.

You watched as Blaugrana, your Calico fluffy cat, approached you unawarely of everything surrounding her, you sat on the wooden floor with her purring next to you. The sparkle of her collar made you remember how your life was bound to be lived with Fermín forever, in that collar your initials were carved. You didn't want to fall back to this cruel reality.

You even commanded yourself to religion to save your relationship, months before. Night after night, you poured the essence of your yearning into prayers addressed to Aphrodite, beseeching her to weave the threads of love and passion back into your relationship, to restore its former glory. Each whispered plea carried the weight of your sincere desire, a desperate hope that the goddess of love might heed your call and guide your connection to the blissful days of yore.

But even that didn't work. And you realized the hug of what you thought would be a fresh start unraveled into the deceptive clarity of terminal lucidity. Now you would hear the eternal melancholic tone of the complete loss of vital signs. Forever.

[v1nsmoke]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 // 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

oneshot - fallout's john hancock x reader

tw: mentions of drugs (usual hancock activity)

summary: after days of exiting goodneighbor, you and hancock finally get to talk

fandom: fallout

a/n: there is not enough talk about this fella omg… now that liking the ghoul from the fallout show is accepted, i can come forward (i chose the “romance hancock” option every playthrough). no pronouns used, so gender neutral ig? also the inspiration for the title is that one song thats viral on tiktok rn, also galvanized square steel mentioned

tags: -

wc: 0.6k

“Day twenty-five since leaving Vault 111, today is Monday and my location is Diamond City, it’s currently 2:41 PM. Me and my companion are at the noodle shop,” you say, speaking into your Pip-boy. 

Recently, you’ve been documenting every day, usually just a brief summary on that day’s experiences. These experiences consisted of hourly radroach attacks, accidental overdose on jet, or encounters with hostile Mr. Handy’s. Or accidental near-death situations with a deathclaw. That only happened once. 

You weren’t sure anybody would ever hear these, even better, be interested in these daily logs. Your companion seemingly couldn’t care less about these logs, as he ate his portion of ramen next to you. 

“The Institute remains undefeated, and I doubt it will change today, I’m not in the mood for it,” you continue.

“If it depended on your mood, it would be there forever,” Hancock cuts in with his sarcastic remark.

A sigh escapes your lips at his words.

“Maybe I should switch back to Dogmeat and send you back to Goodneighbor,” you reply.

“Now, what good would that do for you?”

“It would spare me from more of these remarks.”

“But can Dogmeat give you this?” He asks as he slides you a jet.

Hesitantly, but you accept it with a smile. 

“John Hancock, the ghoul you are,” you sigh.

A smile creeps onto his features. 

“See? You like me enough.”

“Whatever helps you sleep…”

You’ve been traveling with Hancock for the past week or so, after you accepted the offer of Bobby, who just so happened to lie to you. One thing led from another, and after finishing off Hancock’s bodyguard, you managed to solve the bad blood between the two of you by killing Bobby herself. 

Hancock was useful and good company, helping out where he could and making small talk with you. Not to mention that he was supplying you with a different kind of drug every day. They don’t have that stuff in Vaults…

Last night, the both of you got high as hell in the home you bought with hard-earned caps here, in Diamond City. It was mostly a box, so you decided to illegally expand it with galvanized square steel and eco-friendly wood veneers. So, after the finished construction - that lasted four days with the cheap and friendly workforce including Little John (Hancock) and yourself -, the two of you decided to celebrate.

He plopped down onto the mattress - the construction fee was too much for you to spend even more caps on a normal bed -, resting his back against the wall. You popped open a bottle of Nuka-Cola, taking your place on the mattress next to him.

“So, how do ya like it?” He asks, taking a Jet out of his pocket.

“So far so good,” you reply with a sigh.

“That’s all? Not ‘I love this place more than the Vault’?”

“I do like it more than the Vault, cause you’re here.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds before speaking up.

“That’s good.”

“That’s all? Not ‘Wow I, too, am really glad that I’ve got you and get to share Jet with you and that you defended me from that Deathclaw’?”

He lets out a slight chuckle, hanging his head low. 

“Thank you, then. For these past few days I’ve spent with you. Never thought I would find anybody who would accept me as their companion.”

© v1nsmokes 2024. Do not modify, translate or rewrite.