#he fully considers his children part of that room

[darkcrowprincess]

Bruce: well OBVIOUSLY that includes my babies.

At a justice league meeting discussing a major threat and if they should tell the public

Bruce: We don’t want to be causing an international crisis. I suggest we keep this information to only a select few individuals outside this room

At the Batcave

Bruce: News flash, we’re screwed

Jason: I knew it! I told you all that those lights weren’t just a league training gone wrong!

[nebulaafterdark]

At The Pleasure Of The Crown

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.

It begins in the pleasure house, when Aegon tears back one of the curtains to find his brother. Nude and curled around one of the women.

“Haha,” Aegon points, “Aemond the fierce.”

Even the guardsmen there on Aegon’s behalf, shift uncomfortably as he begins taunting his brother. Though none of them will say as much.

“Stop it, you awful man.” Y/N bats at her husband.

He catches her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “Awful man?” Aegon muses, “that’s not very nice, my only love.”

“You are mean.”

Aegon frowns, “not to you.”

“You should not be mean to your brother either.”

“Are you truly angry with me?” He asks, releasing her wrists to twirl a bit of dark hair around his finger.

“Yes,” Y/N pouts.

“Please, say it isn’t so, my darling girl.” Aegon wraps his arms tightly around her, peppering her face with kisses. “I adore you.”

She says nothing, sighing against him. Stroking the stubble on his chin.

He chases her finger with his lips, “forgive me.”

“Be kind.” Y/N insists.

“Of course,” he nods, “I will be on my best behavior. I swear it.”

Y/N kisses his lips once in parting, shooing him away.

“My wife,” Aegon says to the crowd of men, “she is better than I deserve.” He stands, holding the curtain back, “I will miss her dearly.” Aegon pulls himself away, “now, a round of drinks for all; at the pleasure of the crown!”

Y/N smiles, with a shake of her head. “Might you excuse us?” She asks of Aemond’s company.

“Of course, your grace.” The older woman nods, taking her leave.

“I apologize for Aegon. I do hope you were finished, at least.”

Aemond says nothing.

“I’ve given up the opportunity to bed a woman to be here with you.” Y/N tells him, “let no one say I do not treat you fairly.”

“You should go to her. My brother does so love when there are two of you.”

“At least I’m loved.”

“He loves you to the fullest extent he is capable.”Aemond understands well. “What suprises me most is that you allow these behaviors.”

“Aegon is who he is, we can choose to either love or loath him for it.” Some people are born with sadness sewn in.

“Why love him then, if it is your choice?”

“Why do you come back to this place for comfort?” Y/N purses her lips, “why does anyone?”

Aemond stares blankly, awaiting an answer.

“Because it’s what we know. My late grandsire, the king, insisted it was my duty to keep Aegon contented. I have performed my duty.”

“My father has been dead for years now, with your mother seated peacefully upon his throne.” He hums, “you don’t strike me as a woman content forever unchanging.”

Y/N makes herself comfortable on the silk sheets, lying fully clothed beside Aemond, in all his glory. “I am content.”

He continues staring, studying her, allowing gentle hands to brush hair away from his face.

“Do you like to be petted?”

“Do you enjoy drowning in cups? Or is that another of my brother’s interests being forced upon you?”

“Aegon’s never forced me to do a thing.” Y/N admits, “he lives only to please me.”

“I will say that must be true, considering he does not have a hoard of bastards in the fighting pit.”

“He is careful.” Y/N confirms, “he told me once that our children were kissed by the gods because our love created them. He is particularly rigid about moon tea, even with his favorite ladies.”

“For once, my brother and I see eye to eye.”

“And where, on this matter, do you differ?”

“If you were my wife, I would not allow you here. You would scarcely see the outside of our chambers.”

“You would lock me away?”

“I certainly would not leave you alone with him, in a room at the pleasure house.” Aemond drawls.

“Aegon believes our bodies are naught but vessels for pleasure and of course, producing heirs. He holds little interest in who warms my bed, so long as he is the only one to know my heart.” Y/N explains. “He is fiercely possessive over it.”

“That is what I would desire most from you.”

“We would never lie together?”

Aemond sighs, “we would. Every hour. Until you were molded in the shape of me.”

Y/N swallows, harshly.

“That is the way I would love you.”

————————————————————————

Y/N makes her way down to the library, on nights she cannot sleep. Happening across Prince Aemond, who she’s scarcely seen since that night in the pleasure house. He lazes about one of the chairs, with a large book in hand.

Y/N thinks at first, she best not disturb him, but as she passes, he stares up at her. “What are you reading?”

“The anthology of serpents.”

“Is it any good?”

“I am reading in the hopes of finding sleep. It works best if the subject doesn’t interest me.” Aemond drags a finger along the edge of the page, flipping to the next.

“Right.” Y/N sifts through titles on the shelves.

“Have you read Aegon’s journal entries?”

“My husband keeps a journal? This is news to me.” Aegon’s never had much fascination with literature.

“The Conqueror.” Aemond clarifies.

“Of course,” Y/N shakes her head, “Aegon the Conqueror.”

“It’s a good read, in-”

“Three parts,” Y/N nods, “I’ve read them all.”

“Do you come to this place often?”

“Nearly every night.” The princess confirms.

“Always alone? Or accompanied by your husband?”

“A-alone.” She stammers, “I am often alone.”

“That is unfortunate.” Aemond hums. “Mayhaps I might find you here again.”

He does, of course. The next night and the night after that.

“Is it more comfortable with the eye patch on, or off?” Y/N wonders, having spent a fair share of time staring at him both ways.

“It makes little difference. The covering is mostly for the comfort of others, namely my mother. She was always quite saddened by the sight of it.”

“The sapphire is beautiful.” Y/N clears her throat.

“I’m glad you approve of your brother’s work.”

Y/N taps a finger against her wedding band as she speaks, “Lucerys is a gentle soul. It is not in his nature to attack viciously. He must’ve been very frightened.”

Aemond stands abruptly, leaving without a word. What could she know of what transpired between them that night in Driftmark? She was off nursing Aegon as he drowned in his cups.

Y/N returns to her apartments, finding comfort beneath the covers, she is nearly asleep when the door opens.

“What are you doing in here?” Aegon squints at her.

“I went to your rooms first, my love.” She yawns, “you were not there.”

“I need you in my bed.” Aegon tells her, “I need you always.”

“And you shall have me always. Come lie with me.” Y/N pats the space beside her.

Aegon strips down to his small clothes and joins her beneath the covers. “I thought you’d left me.”

Y/N sighs, passing a hand through his hair as he rests his head against her chest. “Why would I leave you, Aegon?”

“Because I am not worth staying for.” The words are muffled in the fabric of her nightgown.

“I love you.” Y/N reminds him. “I will not leave.”

————————————————————————

Y/N and Aemond spend many a night reading, seated across from each other. Though he was not thrilled about their conversation concerning Lucerys, Aemond never misses an evening.

They discuss their findings, when there is anything of interest in the history pages.

“I happened across this passage here,” Y/N plops the book unceremoniously into Aemond’s lap.

“Mmm,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably, “there goes the family jewels.”

Y/N covers her mouth with a hand. “Forgive me.”

“Mayhaps we might try something different this night. If you’re up to it.”

Y/N takes his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her out to the training ground. “I am not trained by the sword.”

“I could teach you.” Aemond makes for the wooden training blades. “They will not cut you, but it is not pleasant to be struck.” He warns.

Y/N reaches out, grabbing the hilt. Testing the weight of it in her hand.

“Widen your stance.” Aemond tells her.

Y/N shuffles her feet apart, “like this?”

“Close enough.”

Her dark brows furrow in concentration and when their swords meet, Aemond relishes in the little grunting noises she makes.

“Ao vīlībagon olvie sȳrī syt mēre qilōni knows daorun hen egros.” You fight quite well for one who knows nothing of the sword.

She smiles, “bodmagho nyke skorkydoso naejot tatagon ao hen.” Teach me how to finish you off.

Aemond chuckles, “do not tempt me, girl.”

Y/N lunges for him, an untrained hand against the master, leaving herself exposed to his attack.

He uses the tip of his sword to lift her chin, “I win.”

She swallows, batting it away. “I want to go again.”

And so they do, until she is spent. Collapsing on the ground, as though he’s truly run her through with the blade. Aemond finds this more amusing than he lets on.

“Up,” he demands, “you will make a mess of yourself, rolling around in the dirt.”

“I will surely bathe after our activities, you needn’t worry.”

“Do you need me to carry you back to your apartments then?”

“After a while.” Y/N grins, resting a hand beneath her head as a makeshift pillow to gaze up at the night sky.

“What are you doing?” Aemond hovers over her.

“See for yourself.” Y/N insists.

Aemond grumbles, taking a seat in the dirt before fully reclining. “The moon?”

“The stars,” Y/N tells him. “When I was a girl my mother would point to the stars and ask what we saw in them.”

“To what possible end?”

Y/N shrugs, “entertainment, I suppose. Or gods forbid, fun.”

“What do you see?” Aemond asks, turning his face toward her.

“Well, just there, I see a hound.” Y/N points to a cluster of lights.

“A hound?” Aemond cocks his head to the side, following the line of her finger.

“Can’t you see?”

“Not at all.” He smirks.

“What do you see then?”

“A crown.” Aemond tells her.

“Where?” Y/N shuffles closer to him, hoping to see.

“Beside the sword.”

“There is no sword.”

“And I say, there is no hound.”

Aegon stumbles out towards the pair, listening to them bicker. “What are you doing?”

“Looking upon the stars, my love. Come lie with us.” Y/N waves him over.

Aegon smiles, indulgently. “Alright.” He joins them on the ground, opposite his brother, Y/N in the middle. “Not very comfortable, is it?”

“The sky is beautiful, is it not?”

Aegon blinks at it once, before turning back to her. “You are my moon and stars.”

Y/N rolls atop of him, kissing the expanse of his face, ten times over.

Oh to be so loved.

Aemond withdraws, prepared to take his leave.

“Goodnight, Aemond.” Y/N calls after him.

With a shake of his head, he calls back, “goodnight.”

————————————————————————

Aemond will never admit the amount of times his brother’s wife dances cross his mind during the day. He does his best to distract himself.

The sound of laughter travels down the hall, from their children’s rooms. Aegon is not much, in his brother’s eye. But even Aemond cannot deny fatherhood suits him.

“And then, from the sky, a big scary dragon swoops down to claim its next victim!” Aegon flaps his arms, parading around like a fool, as his children scatter. Giggling and hollering all the while.

Their youngest son runs to Y/N for protection.

“Come, my dearest love. I will save you.” She smiles, taking the little boy into her lap.

Aemond stands in the crack of the door; watching the scene unfold.

Princess Y/N grins from ear to ear as her husband gallops over, enveloping her in his arms.

“Oh no, mother! You’ve been eaten by the dragon.” Her daughter laughs.

“And I am still hungry.” Aegon smiles, turning his attention back to the eldest children.

Aemond turns away, continuing down the hall. Mayhaps he does want children. Mayhaps he wants them with her, but such things are foolish to desire. So he refuses to.

————————————————————————

“How do you get your hair so straight?” Y/N wonders. “It used to have wave to it, like Aegon’s.”

“From the looks of Aegon’s hair he could do with better hygiene.”

“Be kind,” Y/N chides him. “He has beautiful hair.”

“If you want access to trade secrets, you must allow me to speak freely.” Aemond challenges.

“I love Aegon.”

Aemond nods. “Of course”

“And that is fine by you?”

He smirks, “you’ve only now thought to ask?”

“I had not thought so much of it before.” She admits, “but now it is all I can-”

“If it is my permission you seek to continue loving your husband, I have overstepped.”

Y/N bites her tongue.

“I doubt he is asking whores for their blessing to go on loving you.”

“I wish only to be fair to you.” Y/N searches his eye.

“From the moment you pulled back the curtain in the pleasure house, you have been unfair to me.” Aemond tells her, “made my heart ache for you, made me long for you, then left with my brother when you were through. It did not seem to bother you then.”

“I did not mean for this to happen.”

“I believe that is true. You are not wanton for the suffering of others, but sometimes these things happen.”

“I am finished, if you’re angry with me.”

“Has no one been angry at you before?”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Then, I am honored to be the first.” He brushes a kiss to her cheek. “Before you go, I have something for you.”

Y/N swallows.

“Turn around.” Aemond murmurs, reaching into his breast pocket.

Y/N does as she’s told, catching only a glimpse of glimmering metal before it meets her skin. Clasping at the back of her neck.

Aemond walks her toward his mirror, brushing dark hair over her shoulders so she can see it properly.

“Why give this to me now, if you are angry?” Her brows furrow.

Aemond traces a finger along her collarbone. “You will find that people are multifaceted. We have imperfections and sharp edges, but we are a direct reflection of the light shone upon us.”

————————————————————————

The necklace is beautiful, enough that even Aegon takes notice. Raising the subject in their chambers unlacing the back of her dress. The material falls free, pooling at her feet. Leaving only her shift and small clothes, which soon meet the same end.

“That is a lovely necklace, darling girl.” He runs his finger along the glittering blue jewels, hanging above her breasts. It looks familiar to him, though he cannot say why. His wife is often dripping in jewels he’s gifted her. There is no way of remembering them all. “Was it buried at the back of your jewelry box?”

Y/N smiles, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingertips and then place them upon her breasts. “It was a gift.”

“From whom, my only love?” He forces a grin, kneading the fleshy mounds.

“Aemond.”

No. A blow directly to his gut. He nods, giving the peaks of her breasts a tug before letting them fall free, sensitive and aching. “Upon the bed, my heart.” He smiles.

Y/N returns the gesture, sitting at the edge of the mattress.

“Lie back for me.”

Y/N does as he asks, allowing her legs to fall open, out of habit.

“Good girl.” Aegon drops to his knees, pressing his face to the altar and begins to pray. Every cruel word spoken against him does not exist here. He is safe between her thighs, with gentle hands carding his hair.

He would spend hours there, if she let him. Ignoring the bite of overstimulation to soothe his need for her. His jaw aches, working her writhing body through one peak to the next.

“Fuck,” Y/N sobs. Fighting the urge to press against his head for reprieve.

Aegon takes her hands in his, knotting their fingers together. When he tires of all her squirming, he trails kisses up to her pretty face. Nuzzling her nose with his own as he thumbs away tears.

Y/N sighs, contently. Relaxing enough to calm her breathing.

Aegon lowers his face to her breasts then, rolling and plucking at her nipples until they stand at attention. Sucking them between his teeth, laving his tongue over them until they too are sensitive. He leans up, pecking one final kiss to her lips before heading back to her cunt.

He spreads her legs wide, until her outer thighs rest on the mattress and his hands grip the insides firmly. “I am not finished.” He whispers.

Y/N whines, covering her face with both hands.

“I will be gentle.” He hushes her. “So, so, gentle.”

She cries out at the feel of his tongue lapping her folds. Everything ablaze.

He draws one last peak from his dearest love before he is satisfied, leaving her a quivering mess. “I want another child.”

Y/N nods, willing to give him anything.

“Turn around for me, up on your knees.”

Y/N rolls onto her belly, pushing up on her elbows and knees.

“Poor, little thing, leaking all over.” Aegon croons. “Does my brother not satisfy you?”

“We do not lie together.” Y/N tells him.

“What is it you do together?” Aegon’s lips twitch.

“Talk.”

He huffs a laugh. “You could talk to anyone, dearest. Why him?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “he is quite fascinating.”

“Have you come to care for him?”

“In the way you care for your ladies, I would wager.”

Aegon blinks, slightly dazed, as though he’s never considered it. “I love nothing in this world the way I love you.”

“As I love you.” Y/N peeks over her shoulder at him.

Aegon lines up his aching cock, sliding into her warm, with ease.

Y/N sighs, relishing the feel of him.

Aegon’s thoughts are plagued by the stupid sapphire necklace, bouncing between her breasts. Glittering against the bedding in the soft candle light, laughing at him.

He’s caught off guard by the force which possesses him to move her hair aside and yank the chain until it snaps.

“Ah,” Y/N rears back, clutching the skin of her burning neck.

“I am so terribly sorry, my only love.” Aegon apologizes, gathering her up, with her back to his chest. “It caught on my ring.” He kisses what he can reach of her flesh. He shouldn’t have done it, he knows it was wrong and he hates that he’s hurt her. “I will buy you a new necklace.”

Y/N reaches a hand back to caress his hair, eyes brimming with tears. “It felt as though you tugged.”

Aegon nuzzles her shoulder, leaning into her touch. “I will never harm you on purpose. Forgive me.”

Y/N nods, “of course.”

He turns her face toward him, enough for their lips to meet.

————————————————————————

Aemond does not see Y/N again, not for two nights. Whatever hold the wench has over him will not allow him to surpass that.

He finds her pacing the corridor nearest the library, wringing her hands. “What troubles you, Princess?”

Y/N sucks in a breath, “Aemond.”

“You have not been to the library.”

“I thought it best,” she nods.

“Why?” He leans against the pillar beside her.

“I do not wish to hurt you. After we last spoke, I realized that…”

“You would rather pace in a corridor, inflicting your own suffering than harm me?”

“I suppose I would.”

“If I wish to speak with Aegon about us, would you be opposed?” Aemond asks.

“What would you say?” Her eyes widen.

He taps her chin, “that is none of your concern, sweetling.”

“I love him dearly.” Y/N says, grabbing for his hand.

“Our marriage would only further serve to strengthen your claim to the throne. With Aegon and I at your side, there would be no one to contest you. Your mother, the Queen would be elated to have your claim upheld so fiercely.”

“You raised this matter with my mother?” Y/N whispers.

“I had to be sure it was an option, as I know you will forever toil in servitude of the crown. An honorable venture, for which you will find yourself in need of a King Consort well versed in the histories and matters of the realm.” Aemond takes another step toward her.

“A generous offer,” Y/N nods. “Still I must discuss this with my husband before any decision can be made.”

“Of course,” Aemond smiles.

————————————————————————

Y/N does discuss it with Aegon that night and the mere suggestion lands him in his brother’s room, prepared to kill him.

“I offered you a kindness, to wean you off of that woman at the pleasure house and this is how you repay me? By spitting in my face?” Aegon screams, the veins of his neck pulsing and red with fury.

“While you are busy fucking whores, it is my company your wife seeks. It is her mind which needs stimulating, and however unfortunate, I do not believe you are suited for the task.” Aemond holds both arms behind his back, unfazed by Aegon’s outburst.

“Y/N is the most precious thing in this world to me. She is mine, she has always been mine, she is always going to be mine. Take her cunt, if you must, but nothing more.”

Aemond purses his lips, “we are at an impasse then. I am quite taken with the whole of her.“

“It was me she swore oaths to, my children that grew inside her, my hand she holds. What do you want of her?”

“Soon she will swear the same oaths to me.” Aemond muses, “when I lie with her, it will be my seed that takes.“ He lifts a shoulder, “if you are kind to me, I may allow you to hold her hand as I do it.”

Part 2

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 6)

Masterpost

The Wayne family gathered in the family room once Alfred was done setting up the projector, somehow there was also a plate of cookies and a couple pots of tea on the coffee table. How he’d found the time they didn’t know, he always seemed to be doing just a little more than should be possible but they didn’t question it. 

Jazz seemed nervous as she plugged in her USB and accessed the power point on Ghosts and Liminality. The tidal page had a picture of Danny in his Phantom form standing with a group of others, a boy with gray skin and blond hair, a girl with green hair and skin, and a goth with purple eyes and a dark skinned boy who looked around Danny’s age, and Jazz with the title “Ghosts and Liminals!” 

The next slide had simple text: “What are they and How are they made?”

With each slide she read the text on the screen allowed and then added any context or anecdotes she thought of, or had prepared. 

(Next slide)

Ghosts:

Made of ectoplasmic energy and obsession

Made either:

when someone dies with strong enough desires

An idea gains enough traction to take on a life of its own

Immutable concepts and gods

Must be allowed to indulge in obsessions or they will cease to exist

All have basic abilities such as flight, intangibility, invisibility, and minor shape shifting

On top of basic abilities most will have additional powers based on their obsessions

Immortal unless killed 

Love to fight

Liminals

Made when a human is exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for prolonged periods of time

Have some ghostly traits 

Ghostly traits vary person to person

Less susceptible to human illness and injury

“The ghosts on the picture are Kitty and Johnny, we’ve had problems with them but would consider them friends now. They’re the ghosts of two humans who died, but there are others, Vortext for instance is the ghost of Storms. Those ghosts who come from ideas are called ‘neverborns’. There seem to be almost an infinite number of ghosts, however not all of them are interested in having anything to do with us so we tend to get the same faces showing up a lot in Amity.

“I don’t know how many liminals there are. I thought they might be new with my parents' research but as I look into it more I think there are more natural sources of ectoplasm then my parents thought.” Jazz explained before going to transition to the next slide.

“I have a question-” Bruce started before Jazz hushed him. 

“Wait till the end please! I might answer it without you having to ask,” She scolded, and he felt very much like a schoolboy again as his children snickered.

(Next slide including a image of the glowing green viles in the Fenton’s lab and a glowing green crystal)

Ghost biology 

Ghosts do not have any recognizable organs or bones

The only solid part of their being is their Core which is the source of their ectoplasm 

Any injury to a ghosts form not done directly to their core is considered minor and will heal

A healthy ghost is fully capable of mending any damage including removed limbs in a matter of hours or days depending on extent of the injury

All injuries not including the Core are considered minor 

Ghosts are considered young for at least the first hundred years of their existence and are often not considered adults until nearly 500

A caveat to this is ghosts are heavily driven by emotion and will often be the age they feel they are allowing ghosts to mature much more quickly, or more slowly

When this is the case ghosts are treated as the age they present and behave

Ghosts reproduce by shaping ectoplasm and Wanting a child badly enough

“Believe me it was incredibly scary the first time I saw Danny in his ghost form have something go right through his stomach. It took him a long time to convince me it wasn’t a big deal and it barely hurt. He does have to make sure he repairs the damage Before turning human again though or the damage can transfer over and I don’t need to tell you a hole in the gut is a lot more serious for humans!

“If I’m honest I only know ghosts that have stayed younger then they really are, for instance Youngblood who’s a few hundred years old and could be well on his way to adulthood if he wanted but has remained a child. I assume it can go the other way though, if a ghost is very mature for their age.”

Ectoplasm 

Ectoplasm is the energy that makes up all ghosts and the Ghost Zone itself. All ghosts can feed on the ectoplasm around them as well as produce their own by indulging in obsessions. The ghosts Cores produce the ectoplasm like a brain produces neurochemicals when exposed to the right stimulation.

Ectoplasm is a powerful source of energy but unstable. When it is stabilized into an ecto-crystal it is more stable and can be used as a power source safely by ghosts and liminals.

“Most ectoplasm is green like you see in the pictures. But it isn’t the only colour, some other ghosts produce different colours and it is highly tied to what emotion drives them. When it’s pure it usually smells like petracore but it can get pretty foul.”

(next slide)

What are Obsessions

Every ghost has one or more obsessions

They can be very literal things such as boxes, or ideas and emotions such as Love

In rarer cases they may have dual obsessions

Unlike for humans obsessions are very healthy for ghosts

Ghosts need to indulge their obsessions

Sometimes the way ghosts indulge their obsessions might seem evil, however it is almost always just amoral 

Obsessions shape every part of a ghost from their powers to thier physical appearance, to befriend a ghost you Must understand and aid their obsession

In very extreme circumstances a ghosts obsession may shift, sometimes this is healthy, more often it is a result of extreme trauma

“With my interest in psychology this was sort of hard for me to accept. From the outside the way ghosts obsess seems really unhealthy but it’s what gives them life. When not allowed to indulge in their obsessions ghosts will dysregulate and go to extreme lengths to try and get their obsession, if that doesn’t work they either go dormant if their core is still healthy enough or they will melt. 

“Ghosts change their obsessions very rarely, I’ve heard of it happening as they heal. For instance once a ghost has gotten revenge for themselves, if that was their obsession, their obsession might shift to avenging other people, or even protecting them so they don’t need to be avenged.”

(Next Slide)

Ghost Culture

The Ghosts have a monarchy

The title of the Ghost King is not hereditary but passed through trial by combat

Under the monarch is a council of being known as Observants, and powerful and old ghosts called Ancients 

Ghosts respect strength and value power and cunning in combat a lot

Ghosts bond with each other through combat and play fight with family and friends often

“I have down that the ghosts are a monarchy, and technically that is true but the current Ghost King was a tyrant who was locked away thousands of years ago. I’m sure as soon as someone shows up who’s powerful enough to beat him his court will be happy to pick up where they left off with a better King, or queen, though I don’t think the title has to change based on gender.

“I really can’t stress enough how violent ghosts are! Because nothing short of having their cores shattered can kill them, play fighting for them can look Very Much like a murder attempt to a human. A lot of the issues we’ve had with ghosts have come from them just not understanding quite how fragile humans, and for most of them they feel really bad once they know they actually Hurt someone by shooting them. It’s really best for everyone when they’re kept separate and Ghosts can happily tear each other apart in peace.”

Liminals

The result of long term low level exposure to ectoplasm, sudden high doses are almost always deadly

Liminals Can have almost every trait a ghost can, usually having a combination of a few

Commonalities between liminals include

Minor cosmetic changes such as: glowing eyes, pointed ears, and/or sharp teeth 

Increased stamina, strength, and aggression

Increased obsessive behaviour

Liminals sometimes develop powers shaped by the strength and type of obsession 

“Most of the people Danny and I know are liminals. I don’t want to talk about them in case they don’t want to be outed so I’ll talk about myself and my parents. We all had prolonged exposure after all. My ears are pointed,” She said brushing her hair back so they could see them, “And Danny is a little more then liminal but even in human form he has fangs. 

“My parents didn’t realize it but they could to the point they could subsist on their obsession without needing to eat or sleep as often as a regular human would. About a year ago I started developing the ability to tap into and feel other peoples emotions, I can feed on them a little too but I try not to because the Worst ghost we met did that and I don’t want to be anything like her.”

(Next Slide)

In conclusion

Ghosts are not evil even though sometimes their actions are hard to understand

Never get between ghosts when they’re fighting each other but it’s usually safe to yell at them to remind them not to break anything

Never get between a ghost and their obsession

Don’t drink ectoplasm unless you know you’re already liminal

“I have a feeling the section about liminals will be familiar to a bunch of you. I know Damian is liminal though I don’t know how he was exposed to ectoplasm and some of you,” Her eyes skirted across Tim and Bruce. “Are toeing the line. You’ll probably notice Damian and Danny getting really close, and they might get in some really vicious looking fights. I promise Danny is playing at least.”

The family was left silent for a moment, Bruce knew he was thinking about Jason. Who had died, been exposed to.. What certainly seemed to be something like Lazarus water and come back, obsessive, aggressive, and emotional. He wished he’d had this powerpoint a long time ago. It helped understand Damian too but mostly he was thinking about Jason. He needed to reach out again, maybe meeting Danny would be good for Jason?

“So uhhh, ya, that’s the end of the powerpoint?” Jazz said, shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence. “Any questions?”

Next

[thicctails]

I need more info on the get better children au, especially about when Bill shows up.

*rubs hands together* I finally got some extra time to draw up some new art for this AU, so let's give it some substance >:3 Long post below the read more with extra art :D

Before Euclydia was destroyed, Euclid and Scalene Cipher were some of its most powerful members. Bill saying that everyone loved him as a baby was true for a time; children aren't born very often, and the Ciphers are considered to almost be royalty. It wasn't until Bill's mutation became apparent that people began to shun him. If he had been born to any other family, he likely would have been abandoned.

Though neither Euclid nor Scalene could really comprehend the concept of something being "up", let alone what "stars" could possibly be, both of them used their status to try and find any scrap of forbidden information, hoping that they could find an answer, could find some confirmation that their son wasn't crazy, and didn't need to be blinded by his "medicine."

It was this research that eventually saved their lives. Having the knowledge that it was possible for things to, hypothetically, exist in a three dimensional plane allowed them to pool their powers and create 3D forms for themselves when Euclydia began to burn, pulling themselves off the 2D plane like a sticker being peeled off a page. It wasn't a smooth transition in the slightest, and the flames managed to damage parts of their bodies before they managed to fully free themselves. The rest of their power went into escaping their collapsing reality, and when all was said and done, they were left near catatonic and floating in the space between time and space for many, many years.

They don't really start to recover until a certain frilly guy upstairs nudges them into a new, stable dimension. This one is almost entirely 3D, and inhabited by creatures that look completely alien to the Euclydians. Creatures called humans.

They meet Dipper and Mabel not long after, and the two triangles attach themselves to the babies, doing their best to care for them in their weakened states when their young, unprepared parents fail to be adequate caretakers. Being 2D is far easier for them, so they stick to the walls like shadows and find ways to speak to the twins, slipping into videos and pictures, music and books, their forms changing slightly to match whatever media they slipped into. They teach Dipper and Mabel their colours, shapes, ABC's, ect, comfort them when they get sad or scared, and once they're old enough, how to do basic things like getting themselves food and water when they get left alone too long.

Neither Pines parent really notices their children making grabby hands and babbling at open air at first, though they do become a bit concerned when years pass and they still stare at walls and empty corners like there's something there.

Eventually, as we all know, the Pines twins get shipped off to a sleepy town in Oregon, and Euclid and Scalene are, of course, coming along to watch over their little stars. However, they become deeply uncomfortable when they start to see visages of their son carved into every room of the twin's temporary home.

It doesn't take long for the show's antics to start, but Grunkle Stan gets involved in the twins adventures far earlier because during The Inconveniecing, Euclid uses his ability to manipulate televisions to play one of those old PSA's on loop until he gets spooked enough to actually check on the twins, only to find them missing.

Eventually, through the help of Scalene using a radio to drag up an old advert for the Dusk 2 Dawn, he figures out where they are and arrives just in time to see the tail end of their ghostly encounter. Unable to deny his knowledge of Gravity Falls' weirdness, he and the twins have their Season 1 finale talk that night, and Dipper shows Stan Journal 3, which leads to all three of them searching for Journal 2 (Stan doesn't reveal the portal yet)

Bill gets summoned by Gideon like in Canon, but things veer wildly off course when, upon entering Stan's mind, Mabel asks him if he knows Euclid or Scalene. He freezes up upon hearing the names of his parents, and he immediately calls off the deal with Gideon, ripping himself out of Stan's Dreamscape. Before he can process what happened, he comes face to face with someone he's only seen in daymares for the past trillion years

Bill dips the fuck out once he realizes he's not hallucinating, disappearing to Axolotl knows where to do fun, productive things such as: scream, cry, break shit, sob on the floor, drink until the teeth in his eye ache, stare at the space between stars for days on end, and interrogate every single one of his henchmaniacs to see if they spiked his drink.

Mans has absolutely zero clue on how to navigate this situation, eventually settling on stalking the Pines because he genuinely cannot think of any possible way to approach his (apparently alive????) parents. How do you go about atoning for the extinction of your entire species?

Bill Cipher has never been one to do things for others for any other reason than to get something back, but he figures the best place to start is by protecting these fleshy human young that his parents seem so attached to.

Wait, would that make them siblings? Axolotl, he sure hopes not.

[poppedbubblgum]

I’ve had this au in my brain for months now and only recently drew for it so I’m here to add to the pile of rise aus haha

It’s the standard separated au but my version B) - Donnie grew up with Splinter, Leo stayed with Draxum, Raph ended up at the battle nexus and Mikey was left to roam the streets of the Hidden City.

More info under the cut-

Donnie: The most mentally stable of the brothers somehow. He was raised in the sewers with splinter, and even though he did receive care, splinter still couldn’t really provide much in terms of affection. Despite that they still love each other, even if distantly. He’s chronically online. He knows every vine ever and plays fps games a lot yes I made him a gamer. He and April are extremely close in this au, having met at a young age and April being the closest thing Donnie has to a sibling until finding his brothers. Splinter also refuses to tell Donnie anything to do with mutants/yokai, or even where they came from, much to Donnie’s dismay. Without his brothers and their antics, he doesn’t get out much, and hasn’t made a battle/protective shell for himself yet.

April: She and Donnie met in early childhood and were practically inseparable, them both being only children, and they basically became each other’s annoying sibling. She’s the only reason Donnie came out of his shell (heh) and she likes to take him onto the surface streets for shenanigans.

Leo: Huguinn pulled Leo from the wreckage of Draxum’s lab and was raised in the rebuilt lab. Draxum genuinely didn’t expect the turtles to come out as literal infants after mutation so it’s a miracle Leo even survived this long lol. (Huguinn and Muninn did most of the work tbh) Draxum considers Leo to be a biproduct/fragment of a failed experiment and uses Leo more as an errand boy than anything else. Because of that Leo’s and Draxum’s relationship is also distant. Leo acts nonchalant and sarcastic for the most part, but he can’t help but want to please Draxum. Leo knows about his brothers and even tried looking for them early on, but eventually gave up. He and Donnie meet first. Also he sneaks out to get pizza at Hueso’s when he’s bored.

Raph: His and Mikey’s stories start out intertwined. They both ended up in the hidden city and lived out the early years of their lives there. When he was around 7 years old, Mikey being 5, Raph was taken as a contestant for a battle royale at the nexus, composed entirely of young yokai. (The battle nexus is quite literally a gladiator ring where contestants kill one another) Raph was taken due to his large size, and after managing to survive the battle royale, Big Mama allowed him to stay and become a fully fledged fighter at the nexus. He moved his way up in rank and became one of the top Nexus champions under the stage name, The Beast. He’s soft spoken and quick to anger at first, having received so little friendly interactions.

Mikey: He and Raph lived in the hidden city together until Raph was taken when he was around 5 years old. After that he was basically left to fend for himself. He survived via stealing and living on rooftops and alleys Aladdin style. He’s incredibly agile and a master pickpocket. He even made a name for himself in the district where he lives as the local thief. This, however, hasn’t dampened his spirits at all and he’s just as bright and bubbly as ever. He loves anything and everything to do with art and often does graffiti wherever he can. He’s an avid battle nexus fan and watches the battles whenever he can ( Leo is also a huge fan).

I’ve legitimately had this au in my head for months and this isn’t even close to everything I’ve conjured up but I had to make something for it or else I’d explode. Despite there being a lot of room for angst in this au, I imagine it as more lighthearted and similar to the show in terms of comedy. If you read this far congrats and give me your strength please

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt.8

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

*sigh* let me just feed my starving children. consider this my girl dinner to you all. fully feeding u this time. the day has finally come (in more ways than one)

NSFW AS ALWAYS (but pls extra caution on this one, i got carried away and i don’t want to spoil the surprise) 18+

also i was gonna finish this series at 10 chapters but pls lmk if u want more!

It was far too late to function. You were pulling on many mental threads as you sprawled out on your bed.Sighing into the empty, overly spacious air of your room didn't alleviate anything, you were still wearing Miguel's shirt.

The streetlights dimmed into your room, the warm glow offering nothing to help fix this crack that resided in you. Tossing and turning wasn't helping, your limbs fluctuating from rigid to limp whenever you thought about Miguel. Your sheets were hurled to the floor and your half-naked form contorted at every angle on the bed, nothing was comfortable and you couldn't sleep. Your mind buzzed awake from the lightning shooting down your thighs whenever you inhaled, his shirt was so big on you but it smelled so good, and the fact that he let you just have it.

It smelled like him, his cologne, his natural ambiance, his musk. You rubbed your naked thighs together.

You couldn't help but sigh breathlessly and throw your head back into the pillow, whining at how stimulated you were just by inhaling. For fucks sake. Since when were you this pathetic? You almost wanted to bite into your pillow out of sheer aggression. Today was a cluster fuck of emotions, your lips still felt the tingle of him, your tongue was against his enough that you could still feel him exploring when he wasn't even there. It was like a ghostly touch, tracing against the most sensitive parts of your body. You still couldn't believe that he had finally kissed you, he had finally given in to such a disastrous impulse that he so constantly warned you about. Your pussy fluttered at the fact you affected him enough to go against everything he believed in, that you meant that much to him. The pulse under your heated skin sent your body into an unshakable overdrive.

Miguel tasted like testosterone, anger, and sex. The way you were just pressed against him had slick forming between your thighs. You were so ready for him. You've always been ready for him. The way he gave you a tiny fraction of what he was going to do- what he was prepared to do...well before Peter had to cockblock you into oblivion. He was going to fuck you on the sink like an animal. Hot and Heavy. But then Miguel had to go back into his old ways.

Your throat was raw, and constantly groaning in frustration was a default setting at this point but it was getting worse and worse. You draped your forearm over your eyes, involuntarily arching your back against the mattress and spreading your legs as your stomach lurched. Your pussy would drown in his cum. That seemed to be the last straw. The canines of your teeth dug into your bottom lip at a depth that pierced the blushed tenderness of your lips, tiny holes turned into splits as blood pooled inside of your mouth and slightly dribbled to the outskirts of your mouth and chin.

“Fuck…” You winced out, more pained by the thought of Miguel leaving you unfulfilled than the pulsating of your lips bitten raw.

-

Miguel was aimless, ice doused his heated veins as he swung from building to building. He attempted to convince himself that he was in your universe for any other reason he could get, he was particularly good at lying to himself but in this case, it wasn't. The most honest thought he's had in months is knowing that he wants you.

Miguel knew where he needed to be right now. With you. He hated how he left you in the bathroom, part of him wanted to fuck you while anyone watched, just to show them who you belonged to. But he could never do that.

He groaned as he whacked through the air, his fingers smashing against his neck to get rid of the mask. He felt claustrophobic like you were subconsciously taking away his ability to breathe. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. You had steel in your spine and that only fueled the flames of desire that were lit in him long ago. The roaring fire in your eyes every time you laid into him made him hard as ever, no woman has ever been stupid enough to question him- and then there was you. At HQ you were the perfect picture of cool elegance and competence, you weren't as fun-loving as the others and nowadays Miguel felt like he had pulled that out of you. Miguel frowned at the thought. Your presence evoked an unwanted heat in his gut and a leaking cock to go with it, and he didn't even fucking like you, he just had to deal with you. But now, after all this, you were the name he'd call in the middle of the night. His entitled, needy, girl. He couldn't take two steps without Jess or Lyla gushing to him about how lovely you were

It was galling.

Maybe he could marry you. Fuck you full of his kid.

Jesus Christ.

Miguel squashed the thought with a grimace and a shake of his head. With a grunt he landed on the side of your apartment building, using his claws to dig into the brick, subtIty was never his play but in this certain situation, it was completely off the board. He had no idea what he was going to say to you or if he was going to see you at all he just needed to be near you. He wanted to see those eyes darken in pleasure again, if that's all he could get from a kiss, he couldn't even begin to wrap his head around what would happen when he was actually in you. He knew he drew near when the scent of you clouded his brain, he quickly hung from the side of the building until he got to a large window, it was cracked open slightly. Windswept hair made tufts of his hair impair his vision, Miguel peeked his face to get a glance at the window it was your bedroom window.

You were sat on the edge of the bed, sweet face buried in your hands, hair tumbling down your shoulders, contemplating something for a second before standing up.

He could smell how wet you were. Maybe one day he could pour wine all over you, cum on you and then taste it off your sweet body.

He bit the bullet. He raised a pointer finger and tapped his talon on the glass. The moonlight outside kissed your face perfectly, but he did notice some red around your lips- he didn't know what it was.

His mouth dried as his gawk fell to what you were wearing- you were still wearing his shirt. Fuck

You hummed in irritation, thinking your sex-filled mind was making you hear things. Your heart sank at the wave of shock when your gaze accidentally flitted to your window. Then you saw it. Your tongue ground into your jaw, waves of shock reaching every corner of your already fire-tinged body- but now every single cell was about to sizzle into thin air. All this time, it felt like you were both dancing with your hands tied. Your pulse pounded in your ears when you saw him, eyes wide and concerned but ultimately fucking elated. It was like God answered your prayers just this once. You stood up from sitting, a random burst of adrenaline licking at your knuckles, you were practically shaking and Miguel was more than happy with that.

The sight of Miguel's face could make you cream: that black hair, olive skin, taut muscles, and brooding attitude made for complete devastation in a spider suit. You watched like a dumbfounded idiot as Miguel pried the window open and crawled through, he wormed into your room and stood up tall just taking a beat to drink you in.

Damn.

He thought you looked fucking incredible in a bikini, but here you were, standing there with a vacant doe-eyed look wearing nothing but his shirt. He doesn't think he's ever been this aroused just looking at someone.

Miguel raised an eyebrow to see blood on your lips, trailing a little down to your chin as you blinked up at him. He inched closer and raised his hand, his fingers slightly cupping your chin to meet his scorching, worried gaze.

“What happened here?” He asked softly, his breath was warm and honeyed, a stark contrast to the Miguel you've always known. That cool bleak demeanour cracked for a split second.

“You.” Leaning into his touch proved to be easy, you melted into his fingertips, lips parted and eyes needy as the man you've been fantasizing about for so long was touching you again, but it felt more meaningful than the last. Miguel's eyes were the clearest you've ever seen, a tinge of red gleaming against the burgundy of the outer rim. The way you uttered that word sent a shudder spiraling through him, you were both affecting each other so much- that first kiss only fueled the ever-increasing wildfire.

“What are you doing to me…?” Miguel whispered. He was asking himself that question too: what were you doing to him? He's driven himself crazy, utterly mad over this dance of death he called morality and ethics. You were holding your breath, scared that if you gave into the natural urge to breathe, you'd moan out his name.

“You never finished telling me all the things you wanted to do to me.”

“If I told you all of the things I wanted to do to you...we'd be sitting here all weekend talking and then I'll never be able to show you exactly what's been running through my head every hour of every day, the reason why I can’t sleep, why I can’t fuck my fist without thinking of you.” Miguel inched closer and cupped your face with both hands, smoothing out your soft skin, your palms fell onto his hands too.Just touching each other softly. Miguel was still afraid. He was afraid of hurting you, and losing himself, he's already not in control when it comes to you. You sighed out at his vulgar words and you were ready to get on your knees.

You stood in silence, gawking at each other intensely. You scoffed to yourself, teeth clamping onto your bottom lip as the corners of your mouth upturned to a smirk.

“That would be quite inconvenient.”

“Yes, it would carinõ.” Miguel hummed lowly, definitely understanding the effect the pet name had on you. Miguel thought your snarkiness would be the death of him by now but here you are, being so compliant. His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, teasing it into your mouth. Your eyes grew wider as his thumb massaged your tongue For easier access, you just stuck your tongue out, licking and sucking on it every so often. He had dreamed about this day but he never fully thought what it would really be like once he gave in.

Miguel's pretty features were locked in a state of vacant yet concentrated drunken smugness. Anger played at his brows, creasing the olive skin around it, his stare was piercing, looking at you as if you were both a diety that needed to be worshipped and a dirty slut that was begging to be pounded- he sighed at the thought, he was beginning to slowly lean in. Your free hand went to the fangs that he was baring, your fingers prodded at the sharp point, slurring completely drunk off of his presence.

“These are spikey...I love it.”

“This is so wrong.” He muttered against your lips, feeling the explicable sensation of hot and heavy lust sparking between your lip.

“Tell me how wrong it is then.” You nipped at his bottom lip, making his eyes flutter closed.

That was it.

A sickening crunch ripped inside of him.

A chain loose of its hinges.

His muscles coiled inside of him, reaching their apex, and now his restraint was seeping between his fingers until there was nothing left in his hands...except you.

Shock, hope, fear, elation, and uncertainty all mingled together on his face until they were indistinguishable from each other. He blinked for a second and then his eyes mixed both black and red, midnight specks in the violent pool of red. He was angry and so hard. Frustration overrode his guilty conscious. Fury carved harsh lines across Miguel's face, hardening his jaw and turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension by the moonlight. His eyes simmered with a slow-burning desire, the type that snuck up and annihilated him before he knew it.

Miguel had always been intimidating, but at that moment, he looked like the devil himself had left hell to exact his retribution. Arousal leaked out of you at that look. The air sharped with dense tension and desire, enough that it finally yanked him out of his frozen stupor. Time suspended for a brief, agonizing moment, just long enough for your breath to become his.

Miguel yanked your arm away from him and curled it behind your back, your soft gasp making drool form at the back of his throat. His other hand gripped your chin and at that moment he saw thunder in your eyes. “I'd rather fuck you instead.” Uncertainty evaporated from his voice, leaving nothing but satin and smoke in its wake.

His mouth shattered against yours, finding its rightful place in your mouth. Home. You thought his last kiss was good, but this was ferocity at its most unhinged. You had succumbed to the skillful assault on your senses.

Your body was molded to his, all hard muscles under the holographic suit. Your mouth was like a pure shot of heroin- the forbidden fruit that he was restraining himself for was now all his to devour, his to savor. The first kiss was passionate but impulsive. This... was sticky and wet, saliva mingling with saliva, this was primal and addicting. Miguel's worries melted into nothing, for now, he was fucking delighted that your body instinctively curved against his, seeking more contact like a horny virgin. His lips left yours to breathe, a rough calloused breath shot out of his throat, as his mouth fell to your jaw, kissing and sucking so fucking hard, desperate to mark you.

“Miguel…” You moaned out in failed protest, the word rolled like heaven off of your tongue. You were made to moan his name.

“I'm going to wreck this tight cunt..”

“Listen, listen...I'm bad. I'm a bad girl. Now I'm making you bad..” You whispered in his ear, yelping a little when he bit down hard on the skin of your jaw. You felt the indents of his teeth.

“Carinõ...I'm not a good man, you know that.” His eyes wildly found yours again, his face hardening like granite, his steely resolve thrumming in the air around you.

You begged to differ, but you didn't want to think about that right now.

Miguel shoved you on the bed, manhandling you by being completely careless of where you landed.

“Miguel!” You whined like a kicked bitch in heat, it felt so humid in your room, you scrambled to get your- well, his- top off. Miguel stood up straight and gawked at you from the foot of your bed, waiting like a hungry predator. You discarded the shirt so you were completely naked on your bed, shining and glimmering in the pale moonlight, skin as soft as fresh silk. Your chest rose and fell with every rapid breath, Miguel's eyes were clouded in the dark hellfire that is desperation when you spread your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, tilting your chin down to glare at him with impossibly sizzling fuck me eyes. Miguel's heartbeat pummeled to the tip of his leaking cock at the sight of you in such an impossibly filthy position- free for him to use, fuck and bite however he pleases. He glanced at your hands and your fingers were ripping up the sheets under you, spotlighting the tension and swirling heat in your cunt. He was like a kid in a candy store, your pussy was leaking, the clear sticky liquid running down your thighs.

“Every time you speak, this is what happens.” Your tone was dead serious and the expression on your face was stony- you were definitely not toying with him now. You were just too eager for that.

Miguel's eye twitched. Without warning, he grabbed your ankles and pulled them to the edge of the bed, you gasped softly when you felt your legs dangle out, Miguel was between your thighs, glaring down at you with a demanding instinct.

“Sit up straight.” He ordered coldly, you felt a new wave of wetness form between your folds at his words.

You did what you were told, eyes piercing against his, challenging each other but it was obvious who had the upper hand.

Oh…the things Miguel could do to you in this position. The things he wanted to do, x-rated scenarios reeled through his head. You blinked up at him with doe eyes, wide and needy. His needy, desperate girl. A hint of a wicked smile played on his lips. Miguel smashed a few buttons on his watch and his holographic suit disintegrated off. Your eyes scanned his golden olive skin, his body was sculpted with such perfection you expected to find Michelagelo's signature embossed on his V-line. Broad shoulders. Muscled chest. A faint dusting of black hair that tapered down to…

Oh fuck.

His cock was staring at you right in the face, jutting out, huge and hard- 11 inches for sure at least. It curved to the side, a thick vein bulging out of the underside, an angry red tip leaking pre-cum. The mere idea sent twin frissons of apprehension and anticipation spiraling down the deepest pit of your stomach. You gawked blankly at his dick, mouth open wide and eyes outspread. It felt like you'd never even seen one before. Well, you had never seen his before.

That fucking face, that gape. He was going to frame it in his office and fuck his fist under the desk staring at it.

There was no way he'd fit. It would be impossible.

“Oh my…God.” You mumbled under your breath

When you finally dragged your gaze back up to his, Miguel's eyes were already laser-focused on you, dark and smoldering with a banked heat that you were sure could crumble you to dust. His hand gripped your cheeks, ensuring that your eyes were on him without hesitation. Miguel smiled crookedly when he spotted the slivers of saliva hanging from your bottom lip, quite literally drooling over his cock absentmindedly. He loved how dumb he’s got you already.

"Aww querida...I always seem to think about my own suffering, yet I neglect yours the most.” His tone had slivers of mockery in it, and tears pricked in your eyes.

“Yes. You do. So just fuck me already.” You scowled, pretty eyebrows tensing and creasing when he planned on stretching out such a momentous occasion. If anything it should be you punishing him for the amount of times he had denied you of the very thing that kept your soul alive.

Hypocritical son of a bitch.

Miguel harshly let go of your face and slapped your cheek with his dick, your face whipped to the side due to the sheer force of such an obscene thing- he definitely caught your attention now, undermining his authority never sat well and it regurgitated back onto you tenfold. You blinked up at him, the surprise hitting you like a brick and making you choke out the breath you forgot you were holding, your cheek heated red as the stickiness smeared slightly. You were about to internally combust, for such vulgarity to feel that good.

"All you do is fucking talk.” Miguel snarled at you gruffly, the force behind it sounded very real.

“I'm prepping you, getting you all wet so you can at least take about half of me.” You wanted to kick him in the face and make his fangs stick into the walls of his gums and snap them. He really thought you wouldn't be able to take him? Well, a few minutes ago you thought it would be quite frankly impossible to take his sheer size but now since he doubted you...you thought otherwise, wildly determined didn't even begin to cover it.

You cocked a condescending eyebrow at his incredibly smug statement. “I'm wet enough! We were practically designed to fuck each o-!“

Miguel cut you off, waiting for the opportunity when your mouth was wide enough to just shove his cock in. And he did just that. He grinned and let out a low rumbling chuckle at your pathetic and dumb demeanor, who knew a woman who viewed herself so highly could end up being so damn bendy for someone else. Your eyes pricked glassy mirrorball tears, he almost saw his own smug reflection in them, that beautiful surprised look on your face needed to be painted and sold for millions. Your mouth was so warm, so wet, bucketfuls of spit spilling on his cock as you sucked, glaring him right in the pupils of his midnight rings. Miguel's lips flipped to a pretty smile as he watched you struggle to take him all. Your tongue was flat on his tip but what was really jarring was the barely there touches you'd flick onto the sensitive slit, causing him to be unable to repress his animalistic grunt. He could've cum right then and there just from how your mouth felt alone, but he had to endure- he couldn't be known for lasting 5 seconds.

“Yes, we were. You're exactly right.” He gritted through his grinding jaw.

This was exactly what you dreamed of, the spark that lit the flames of desire that licked at the very essence of your soul. It just felt so right. He was so thick and he tasted so good, his natural musk clouded your nostrils, and your throat flexed to take him that much more. One more jerk and he was sure he was going to cum.

Woah, easy. Easy.

Miguel's eyes shot open as you hummed around him appreciatively.

He really thought you couldn't do it. You'd show him that he meant jack shit. There was something so heady about the idea of making a man like Miguel fall to your mercy. You could either bring him over the edge or keep him there forever.

You slid him down your throat a little more. He put his fist in your hair to jerk your head around but you scratched and slapped them away earning nothing but a breathless, accusing scoff from him.

“You'll choke.” It was a half-assed warning and a half-assed patronizing joke. A hint of wariness crept into his voice when you finally gripped the base of his cock with two hands. The sensation tinged his nerve endings in heat, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth.

You didn't care, your eyes tangled with his as if you were saying ‘You think I can't? Watch me.’ You slid him all down your throat, hitting the very back of it. You whimpered tasting the salty sweetness before you swirled your tongue from side to side, bobbing your head up and down, suckling softly at first before fucking him hard with your tongue. Jesus Christ, his mind was exploding with static heat- he was trying to conceal his chest from heaving but he couldn't.

Fuck.

This was most definitely the best blowjob he's ever had, you had this twist-and-jerk technique that was truly remarkable. Miguel raised his eyebrow, dumbfounded by your skill but then a wicked smile slashed through that.

What a pretty little slut. His pretty little slut.

“You feel so good. You're...fuck. You're fucking perfect for me...” Miguel moaned drunkenly, unable to control his lips from moving. He's never been this sensitive before, every barely there touch elicited a new wave of pleasure. Pain and pleasure blurred into one at this point. The compliment made you wetter if that was even a possibility.

“I'm gonna...Mierda...g'na...I'm gn'a cum.” He could barely string together a sentence, a coil snapped inside of him, the coil that has been tightening ever since he met you.

Miguel pulled his cock out of your mouth and jerked himself off, cumming on your chest, creating a pearl necklace with his hot salty cum, dripping all down your tits to your stomach. His face creased into a desperate wince as he groaned from the deep chasms of his gut, a rumble as he released all over you. Your gasp was helpless and he wanted to hear that specific sound all night, it turned into his favorite music. This was the most gratifying and fulfilling orgasm he's ever had. He opened his eyes after they screwed shut, peeking through to see the mess he made on his fist and your body...and there you were looking like a sculpture, something akin to a Greek goddess, leaning back slightly, hair touselled and messy, skin glowing. He could finish again at the sight alone. His sex drive was insatiable.

“Still think I'm in need of prepping?” You chided, embarrassingly pleased with yourself at proving him wrong.

You didn't have any time to lose, your mouth was wrapped around him again.

You retracted a hand from the base of his leaking cock and let them slide down your thighs before your nimble fingers edged to your hot cunt. Your index finger found your swollen clit, rubbing it for a single second, feeling a small fraction of delicious pain before his glare caught you red-handed. Miguel's blood reared at the blurry sight, he gripped your hair again with his white hot fist and pulled you off of his cock, drooling-invisible strings of cum and spit connecting you together. He took a moment to admire you at your most beautiful, heated cheeks, swollen pink lips dribbling into a lazy smile

Miguel grew indignant in a matter of nanoseconds.

“No. Don't you dare think about touching. You've done more than enough yourself.” He grunted like a boar. He used your hair like a leash and threw you back flat on the bed, breasts bouncing at the action. You pouted as he crawled on top of you, his heavy weight being a welcome invite to your body, his cock slapped against your stomach and you could feel his skin turn wet due to your drenched mound. “I said don't give me that look.” He said seethingly. The feeling of his skin on yours was making you intensely needy. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking yourself in your new favorite position: under him.

“Please...Miguel. I need you, I'm desperate for you, I'm tired of waiting for you, I've been ready for you for so long…” A desperate plea ripped away from your throat in a choked sob. Miguel had never seen your eyes emanate such honesty and sincerity, glowing in the pale moonlight- you weren't making a glib or clippy joke about this. It was as honest as you could get.

Miguel's eyes darkened as your words fell on his ears, slurring at your incessant whining. “Mi nina necesitada…” He hummed under his breath. “So cockdrunk already?”

You had been dying to let him roam your body freely, doing whatever he pleased, a breathy moan escaped from your parted lips when his apathetic hand traced the curves of your body, goosebumps strangely patterning your heated skin. Miguel crashed his lips against yours again, his fangs snagging against your mouth and his teeth clinking against yours. It was messy and sloppy, spit against spit, tongue against tongue. His hands palmed your tits, feeling them before his talons pinched and rolled your already-sensitive nipples. Pulling and playing with them, snarling and grinning crookedly against your lips as he swallowed your moans.

“I'm gonna cum..” You breathed softly but Miguel was not having it. “Miguel...if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum.” You warned him but it landed on deaf ears.

"You're gonna cum on my cock.” He corrected you unkindly before chuckling lowly. “My sweet sensitive cunt.”

Before you knew it, Miguel gritted his teeth, you didn't have time to do anything more than gasp before his length slid into you so easily, hitting that spot that made him realize you were right: you were designed to fit each other, designed to fuck each other

“Fuck...Oh my god...” You moaned out loudly.

He filled you up to the hilt with only one thrust. You only had a few seconds to adust before one hand was on your neck and the other gripped your hip and slammed you up and down on his cock, hard, while he drove down inside of you. Each thrust was more brutal than the last, you were getting embarrassed at the whines and moans, and attempting to conceal them with your fist wasn't helpful either. You threw your head back into the mattress, exposing more skin on your neck for his palm to grip.

“Be loud. Let me hear you.” He demanded coolly, his steely resolve shattering just from watching your swollen lips turn into a full-blown gape. You gave in to his instruction and let yourself moan without shame. Miguel manhandled you and threw you about sloppily again and again, harder and faster until your knees buckled.

His fangs ground together, threatening to shatter the pearly whites he was known for as he watched your body contort. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. He saw his cock bulge under the skin of your stomach and it was just another lightning bolt that was the thunderstorm between you two. You whined when he grabbed your knees and pushed them into your chest, smooshing your breasts together, allowing him better access to pump you full.

Miguel knew you were on birth control but he couldn't help but feel disappointed about it. He disguised it as a throwaway thought

“You can't even begin to understand how bad I've wanted you.” Your tongue slipped out, reiterating the same thing as always: your desperation.

“Tell me I'm the best you ever had.” He growled brutally, staring down at you, watching your hair nuzzle into the pillow. Your nails dug crescents into his back, probably enough to draw blood if you angled it another way.

"You're the best I've ever had!” You screamed back, begging to finish. “Please...you're the best I've ever had.” You cried out, eyes welling up with tears, streaking down your warm face making Miguel even more aroused. Miguel felt so dirty and depraved, but that's the kind of man he was. He wasn't a good man at all.

You clung onto him for dear life as he rutted in and out violently, you threw your head back into the pillow, his talons were sure to leave indents on your neck, and you drooled at the idea. Your body felt nothing more than a mass of sensation and nerve as you matched his rhythm and grinding your swollen clit up against him: like you were made for each other. It was like you were sucking the soul out of him.

“You need to get used to being fucked like this because I'm not leaving you alone for the entire weekend Hermosa.” Miguel declared with a snarl and it felt like the world was tipped on its axis. “My pretty little cumslut, eh?”

That's all it took.

One promise.

One last final rub of your clit.

Your mouth fell open to a silent scream, but then Miguel glared at you- instructing you to be loud. So you did. Your pussy gushed onto him and your throat ripped out a pornographic moan, the sound echoed into every nook and cranny of your being- it was an out-of-body experience, both a complete cleansing and a complete dirtying of the person you've become. You've never cum that hard, ever. It was so powerful and all-consuming that it drowned out every sound other than Miguel's heavy breathing. He was still pounding into you, chasing his second release of the night. His dick twitched when he saw your face look so blissed out, stars burst behind his eyes as his dick pulsated. Miguel threw his head back and spurted inside of you, before pulling out, spurting again, and then plugging his dick back in.

You were both panting messes, sweat rolling off of your skin as if you had just finished a marathon. Your faces were inches away from each other, gawking at each other vacantly, eyes wide and glittering with that after-sex aura. Silence clawed into the atmosphere, all you could do was stare at each other, silently saying ‘I can't believe we just did that’

Miguel leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips. “I meant what I said. I'm not letting you leave” The contrast between his gentle kiss and his filthy words made you feel limp.

-

i feel like this was lowkey self serve bc all i want to do is give miguel head LOL .

i also just have to say another thank u to all the people who love this series! i’m so overwhelmed by the idea that you guys like the way i write miguel. thank u so much! i love u

-

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear r @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick k @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house ri @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a @z0mbiekat @rey26 @stunkbiggu @honeycovered-bandaids@hearttjason @brittney69 @thyroidissues @4imhry @pinkliquor @realalpacorn @dr-skazka @simoniithehomii @aisyakirmann @deezisnotreal @synamonthy @bread6069 @iite-cool @thedevax @soymiguelsesposa @heartthrobinsblog @siidmm @queerponcho @luvingmyships @dhollandhs @kehlanilopez @lyrasdrawer

(IT WONT LET ME TAG ANY OTHER PPL BRUH TUMBLR WHY)

[sinofwriting]

I'm A Matchmaker, Baby - Ollie Bearman, Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen

Words: 4,123 Summary: After Saudi Arabia, Charles fully takes Ollie under his wing, he is his son after all, which leads to Ollie having dinner with the Monaco royal family and meeting the most beautiful girl in the world, the princess of Monaco. Note(s): This is also a Lestappen fic, Max and Charles get together and are together in this fic. They ended up playing a huge part in this fic, so be warned. Also the title is what it is because I can just hear Charles say it.

Masterlist | Support Me! 

Charles had always wanted children. He had wanted children nearly as long as he had wanted to be a Ferrari Formula One driver. He had never expected to be a father this young. But he was and his heart was full because of it.

He wasn’t Ollie’s father on paper or biologically, but what did that matter when it came to the heart and in Charles’ heart, he is Ollie’s father. He already felt something for the young driver, but then Saudi Arabia happened and Ollie had followed him around the Ferrari garage, all polite as he asked his questions, eyes filled with awe and determination. Something had settled in him then. The realization hit only after the race as he waited for the press conference and saw the number of tweets greeting him.

They all were praising Ollie, comparing the two, saying how much Ollie and him were alike. It wasn’t the first time he had heard such things. Arthur had remarked it once, so had Jock, but he hadn’t thought much of it. But now as he scrolled and scrolled and saw the comparisons that fans had made, he couldn’t help but compare them as well. They were quite similar. From the tracks they both liked and performed well at, the love for Ferrari, they both couldn’t cook for shit apparently, and there was even more.

The thing that really got him, a well of fondness striking his heart, was Ollie already talking to someone about this weekend and how when jumping into Carlos’ car for FP3 he struggled with the wheel because he always used Charles’ set up at the factory. It was like it never occurred to him in the near four years he had been with the Ferrari academy to even think of trying another driver’s set up.

“He did well.” A shoulder brushes against his, tehir voice just barely above a murmur.

Charles closes out of his twitter, smiling. “He did very well. Better than Ferrari was expecting.”

He huffs out a laugh, the press of their shoulders becoming firmer. “He really does take after you then.”

A pink blush forms on his cheeks, but he can’t help but beam, pride so quickly filling him. He only seemed to have Ollie for a day, but he would happily kill anyone and anything that would hurt him. “He does. He was amazing during the race, no? Finishing seventh.”

“It’s too bad Lewis is a sure thing. Ollie already seems to be ready for the Ferrari seat.”

If it was anyone else, he would think that they were fishing and if it was anyone else he wouldn’t bother responding, but it was Max. Max had never shared things he said, not when they were matters of the heart or private or even just a bit personal.

“There are things in place. But Ollie would like to do a year in the back or midfield at least before stepping up.”

Max hums, eyebrows furrowed, considering. “Even after this? And what if Carlos isn’t ready for Australia?”

Charles hesitates, eyes darting around, as he thinks of the meeting he has to attend after this to discuss just that.

“Later?” Max offers.

“Later.” He agrees, nodding.

“Nightcap in my room?”

The word yes is on the tip of his tongue, he hates the idea of passing it up, but he shakes his head. “I want to spend some time with Ollie. It was a big day for him. I already plan on getting dinner with him, talking, making sure he is all okay. If you are still up after, perhaps I could stop by?”

Max smiles, eyes crinkling. “You are welcome anytime, of course, Charlie. I’ll have a spare key waiting for you at the front desk or you can always just knock.”

“Thank you, Max.”

Max’s smile grows bigger and he squeezes Charles’ shoulder, once, twice, then three times. “Of course.”

—

Charles leans against the door frame watching as Andrea leads Ollie through the last of his cooldown stretches. His neck was surely hurting and it would be worse tomorrow, but he could see the sheen of cream that Andrea had used on him at the beginning of his F1 career, still did if it had been a practically hard race. And if he knew Andrea which he did, he already knew that there was an extra one in his bag to give to Ollie.

“Hello.” He greets when Ollie finishes his last stretch, straightening with a small groan.

“Charles!” Ollie grins, eyes brightening.

He catches Andrea shaking his head from the corner of his eye, but there’s a fond smile on the older man’s face. “I’ve finished with my meeting, are you ready for dinner?”

Charles fears for a moment his head will come off with how eagerly Ollie shakes it.

They go to a small restaurant, Italian, that Andrea had found for Charles.

Siding into the booth seats, Charles watches, amused, as Ollie looks around with interest, fingers fiddling with his menu.

“I’ve been coming here since the race was introduced. It is nice, no?”

Ollie nods, “it is. Reminds me a bit of…” he trails off and Charles knows what he’s thinking.

“A bit. The owner, her mother, is Italian.”

“Ah.”

Opening the menu, Charles eyes glimpse over it already knowing what he’s going to get, fingers drumming against the table for a moment.

“You did very well during the race, Ollie.”

The boy’s face turns red, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I could have done better.”

Charles shakes his head. “You got one free practice session, managed to qualify ahead of a seven time world champion and a McLaren. You didn’t damage the car and finished in the points. You did fantastic. And you had to get used to a new wheel set up.”

Ollie sputters a bit at the last part.

“It’s just, why would I-” he cuts himself off.

“Why would you what?” Charles asks, staring at him.

“Why would I bother with Carlos’ when yours is there? I mean he’s fine, been nothing nice to me, but you are Ferrari. I wanted to join the academy partially because of you. You’re one of the best of the current generation. And you always let me, let anyone of us bother you with questions.”

“It’s never a bother.” Charles corrects as he thinks of the other Ferrari Driver Academy drivers that sometimes message him with a question or always ask when they see him if he can look over their lap times for a second, which he of course does if he isn’t busy.

“And that! You’re so nice about it. I know Dino once messaged you at three am on accident drunk and you sent a car to get him.”

Charles frowns, “Of course I did. He was in a country he had never been in before and drunk enough to text me. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I didn’t know he got back to his hotel okay.”

Ollie groans and then he’s leaning forward, head hitting the table with a loud thunk that has Charles hissing and pushing at Ollie’s shoulder until he raises his head enough for Charles to look at his forehead.

It’s slightly red and Charles frowns, moving his hand to rub gently at the center of the redness.

“Ollie,” he scolds. “You have to be careful. Your neck has gone through enough strain today. And I don’t know if you should risk hitting your head.”

“It’s fine, dad.” Ollie mumbles, pushing Charles hand away to rub at the spot himself before turning an impressive shade of red.

Charles watches, a beam on his face, as Ollie tries to speak again, saying the word dad again before managing to say the first part of his name.

“You get this from your uncle Lorenzo.”

And that just sends Ollie into another sputter of words that don’t make sense.

He drops off Ollie at his hotel room a few hours later, giving him a hug and putting more cream on his neck, before reminding him that Andrea or him will do it again in the morning before or after breakfast depending on how his neck is feeling.

He stops at his own hotel room to grab his carry-on, his regular suitcase already with Joris before going up two floors and knocking on a hotel room door.

“Charles.” Max greets, eyes crinkling as he smiles before he draws him for a hug.

“Hello.” He presses a kiss to Max’s cheek and ignores the way his own cheeks turn pink as well Max’s from the gesture.

Stepping into the room, he moves further in, setting his carry on by the bed, before collapsing on it, his lips stretching into a smile as he thinks of his dinner with Ollie.

“You are very happy.” Max comments, laying next to him.

“I am. I am very happy.” He breathes. “I’m a dad, Max.” Saying the words out loud, makes his grin grow.

“You-” Max coughs, “you’re a what?”

“A dad, a papa. I do not know the Dutch word for it.”

Max says the Dutch word for dad instantly, like he always does when Charles makes a comment about not knowing the Dutch word for something. “Thank you.” He says, repeating what Max said.

Max clears his throat after a moment and Charles turns his head to look at Max and is surprised to see pain in the blue eyes he likes looking into so much and there’s an unsure expression on Max’s face. His body is still turned towards Charles, but he’s closed off, arms over his chest.

“What is wrong?” Charles asks, concern dripping from his words.

“How old?”

He blinks at him, struggling with the question. “How old is what?”

“The baby. How old is the baby? I mean has it been born?”

Charles stares at him, slightly dumbfounded, because what language was Max speaking? It couldn’t be English.

Then it hits him, his breath of happiness, of him saying he’s a dad.

“No, no!” He scrambles upwards before leaning over Max, hands cupping the barely older’s face. “It is not a baby. I’m talking about Ollie, chérie. I am his dad. Twitter was going on and on about it and then at dinner, oh, Max.” He sighs. “He called me dad.”

The hurt vanishes from Max’s face at his words, cheeks a touch pink from the way Charles is touching him, from the name he called him.

“You two are alike.” He offers before softening further as Charles’ thumbs start to stroke his cheekbones. “I’m sure you are an amazing dad.”

Charles beams at him. “I hope so. Ollie had to learn Carlos’ wheel setup.”

Max snorts at the whisper. “I see Ollie is part of the Charles Leclerc is the best club.” Charles flushes, “well you would know.”

He smiles, his fingers finding Charles’ waist. “Yes, I would. It would be poor if the president of the club didn’t know all the members.”

“Max.”

“Charles.”

“Kiss me finally.”

The sheer want on Max’s face has Charles letting out a whine.

“I won’t keep you a secret if we do that Charles. I can’t cross that line.”

Charles shakes his head, “I would never ask you to.” And he finally says, reveals, let outs, the conversation he had before signing his new contract, his one of many non-negotiables. “Ferrari knows. John threw his full support behind me after I called him. They ask for three to six months, just to get things in place, protection. I know, it’s still a secret, but I just have to message them and they set things in motion.” He rambles.

“Charles,” Max breathes, cutting him off and shaking his head. “You talked to Ferrari about us?”

He ducks his head, flushing. “I’m tired of not having all of you, of not getting to say that I’m yours and you are mine. I want more than glances and fleeting touches. I want to be consumed by you. I couldn’t do another year of not knowing what it felt like to feel your hands on my bare skin, to feel your lips on mine. I couldn’t do it.”

Max stares up at him, throat bobbing and there’s a gentle pressure on the back of his neck. “I love you so much.”

And Charles is unable to respond, the lips on his preventing it and he can’t even try to be angry about it as he happily kisses, gets kissed by, Max for the first time.

—

Charles knows that having booked a private room for breakfast the next morning makes it seem like what happened with Max was planned, but thankfully Max knows him. He knows that Charles most mornings on race weekends likes to have breakfast in private, especially if he still is there the next day after the race. Wants to start his day with some peace and be surrounded by his choice of people. Max has never made it to one of these breakfasts before and this is Ollie’s first as well.

Entering the room, and it was nice that only did the hotel have a good restaurant in it but also let you rent out rooms just to eat, hand in hand with Max, he smiles at Ollie, spotting him first, giving Max’s hand a squeeze before letting it go and moving to pull Ollie into a quick hug.

He nearly presses bisous to his cheeks, as he does with all the people he thinks of as family or close to it in greeting, but he doesn’t know if Ollie would be comfortable with it, so he settles for just squeezing him a bit tighter.

Andrea gets greeted with a squeeze to the shoulder as the trainer sips at a cup of coffee, Joris the same, though he has to dodge an elbow to his side, which makes him laugh.

He goes to Pierre after, giving him bisous and getting them in return before his friend looks behind him where Max must be, his eyebrow raising slightly.

Charles flushes, “we are together now, Pierre.”

“Well, I had no doubts about that. You are glowing. I just can’t tell if it’s from finally getting together with Max, becoming a parent, or both.”

“Both. Have you spoken to Ollie?”

Pierre shakes his head.

“You’ll love him and you can go maybe get a head start on being his favorite uncle behind Arthur.”

He scoffs, “as if Arthur could be a better uncle than me.”

“Well, he has a head start.”

Pierre mutters under his breath as he heads over to where Ollie is awkwardly standing and Charles returns to Max’s side, intertwining their fingers and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Pierre gunning for favorite uncle?”

Charles smiles at the question, unable to help himself from pressing another kiss to Max’s cheek. “Yes.

He’ll get a leg up on Lorenzo, but Arthur is fairly ahead of them both.”

He hums, turning his head to capture Charles’ lips in a short kiss. “At least Vic will be favorite Aunt. Two of them will have to deal with not being the favorite.”

“That’ll be bloody.” Charles scoffs, he still had a scar on his lower back from when Lorenzo and him had roughhoused.

Their mother had been distraught when she had seen the blood, horrified. Their father hadn’t been happy about it but had easily come to terms with being an accident. Poor Arthur had refused to leave him alone, clinging to him as he had been there, though playing on their shared DS.

Jules though… despite having been Lorenzo’s best friend, he had been taken with Charles as soon as he first held him. It had been a joke between Jules’ parents and his to make Jules his godfather, but Jules had latched on to the idea, despite Lorenzo’s protests about Jules liking a gross baby, and by the time Charles was a year old, Jules happily held the title of godfather to Charles.

“You know you won’t win favorite dad with Ollie, right?”

Max smiles, soft and slightly amused. “I know.” His eyes flicker over to where Pierre is talking to Ollie,

Andrea and Joris having their own discussion, though all of their eyes flicker to where Charles and Max are standing.

“And you are okay with that?” There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Charles,” Max laughs. “You’re the only one I’ve ever been okay with winning instead of me. And I, of course, can’t be upset that Ollie thinks the world of you, and will see you as his favorite.”

The barely younger has to blink back tears, “You say the sweetest things, cherie.”

“Only for you, Charlie. Only for you.”

—

“Are you sure I should be coming with you?”

Charles sends him a look and Ollie can’t help but duck his head. “It is for family and I have a good relationship with them. I could bring fifty people and say they are family and it would be okay. And you are family.” He gently cuffs Ollie’s ear. “Max will be coming too.”

“Even after?”

“Yes, even after.”

Ollie doesn’t bother asking how Charles has a custom suit that fits him perfectly, it’s just who Charles and even Max are, though Max doesn’t do any clothes shopping, it’s either sponsored clothing or now things that Charles buys him.

In the car ride to the palace, Max tells him the names of the royal family. And Ollie repeats them over and over again in his head.

“Why won’t Gabriella and Jacques be there?” Ollie asks again, thinking of the youngest two children.

“This is technically a publicity dinner, though it is private. They are only nine, Albert and Charlene are very protective. Next time we are in Monaco there will be a lunch and they will be there for that.”

“But Y/N will be there?”

“Yes.” Charles nods. “She is your age and this is private, but she is not set to inherit the throne.”

“But, a girl could inherit. Gabriella is.” Ollie remembers that much for Max’s rambles about different royal families and their workings.

“Yes, though she is behind Jacques since he was born first, though they are twins. Y/N isn’t interested in being the heir apparent, she currently does such duties and is willing to step up if neither of her siblings want to take the title.”

“Jacques is slightly keen on it, I imagine that Gabriella will be the one to take it.” Max chimes in.

Ollie watches amused as Charles and Max begin to playfully bicker about the siblings though it’s clear that Charles thinks the same as Max.

The car rolls to a stop and Ollie has to take a deep breath before exiting the car after Charles. He watches as the prince greets him warmly, giving him a hug before Charlene does and then Ollie’s breath catches a girl, his age, envelopes Charles into a hug.

They’ve clearly met and know each other well with the way Charles beams at her and her back and he can just hear Charles asking her about something before his attention is drawn away by Max introducing him to Prince Albert.

Ollie ducks his head, extending his hand out. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Albert.”

The prince lets out a chuckle, shaking his hand. “You as well, Ollie. But you can just call me Albert. No need for formalities, not when you are Charles’ son.”

Ollie flushes at the words, but flashes a pleased grin.

“And Max, it’s always good to see you.” Albert cheers, bringing in the world champion for a hug.

“You as well, Albert.”

Charlene greets him much quieter than Albert, though she immediately insists on him not referring to her as princess. “It is lovely to meet you. Charles and Max have both talked about you.”

“Oh, thank you. They’ve both talked about you as well, you and your family.”

“Max and Charles are kind.”

He nods in agreement.

“Ollie,” Charles calls and he instantly turns to look at him. “I want you to meet, Princess Y/N.”

“Please, just call me Y/N.” She immediately says with a shake of her head, before extending a hand out.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ollie.”

He can feel himself turning red as they shake hands, her eyes on him and even just the slightest touch of their fingers and palms. “You as well.”

—

“So Ollie,” Charles murmurs, the words nearly a slur from sleep and the many drinks he had.

Max pulls Charles tighter, nosing at his wet hair, happy that even this drunk it was easy to get Charles to take one, get rid of the stench of the clubs they had been in. “Yeah, he definitely likes Y/N.”

“Oh, thank god. She clearly likes him. I mean did you see her at dinner and then at Jimmy’z? She was so flustered. She confused her silverware. She hasn’t done that once in the near eight years I’ve known her.”

“Charles,” Max warns, already knowing where this is headed and he just knows he’s not going to hear the end of this when they wake up in a few hours, hungover and eager to indulge in greasy food before a workout. “Don’t play matchmaker.”

He can feel his pout against his collarbone, before he’s moving until he’s entirely on top of him and Max lets out a silent oof as Charles’ elbows knock against his ribs, but his hands follow along, eagerly wrapping his arms around him and pulling him until he’s pressed completely against him.

“But babe.”

Max flushes at the pet name. “Go to sleep, Charles. Think about it in the morning.” His eyes slip shut as he realizes what he just said, a silent fuck leaving his mouth

Charles wiggles against him, a beam pressed against his cheek. “I knew you’d help me! Yes, we will talk after we sleep. I’m thinking a lot of flowers and my yacht. They’ll love it.”

“Mhmm.” Max says, “let’s go to bed.”

“Okay. Love you, chérie.”

“Love you too.”

—

Stepping onto the yacht, Ollie gives a smile to the older gentleman that Charles hires to drive the yacht when he’s not feeling up to it or knows he’s going to be drinking.

“Hi Nicholas.”

“Good afternoon, Ollie.” His lips twitch into a smile. “Your father has asked that you go below until we are at sea.”

“He has a surprise for me, doesn’t he?”

Nicholas shrugs, “I’m unaware of any surprise.”

Ollie groans that was definitely a yes.

Despite that, he goes below deck, settling nicely into the hammock that is there despite the much better and cozier one that is above.

It’s over thirty minutes before Charles sends him a text telling him to come up.

Getting out of the hammock, he jogs up the stairs and over to the part of the deck where they always eat. He nearly skids to a stop however when he sees a massive amount of flowers and his breath catches, the princess.

“Princess Y/N, I had no idea.” He runs a hand through his hair and tries to not think about the t-shirt he is wearing.

She quickly stands, nearly tipping forward, but he quickly grabs her, keeping her upright. She smiles,

“Ollie, it’s nice to see you again. Did Charles message you about lunch as well?”

He smiles back at her, heart beating a little faster. “Yeah. Have you seen him?”

Her eyebrows press together, “I thought he was down below. That’s what Nicholas said.”

“Nicholas told me to wait down below until we were at sea. Charles texted me telling me to come up here.”

Ollie’s cheeks flush and his hands that were still resting on her drop, something he can’t help but mourn a little. “I think I know why he isn’t here, but we are.”

“Oh?”

He nearly gulps, hands feeling a little sweaty. “At the dinner, I was a bit flustered.”

She lets out a small laugh. “Most people are at dinner with my parents, especially my father.”

“I was nervous.” He tells her. “But, I was flustered because of you. I mean, you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh.” She blinks before her head ducks down. “I was flustered as well.”

A smile pulls at his lips at the quiet whisper. “Really?”

“Yes. I mean, I used my table fork instead of my salad fork. I haven’t done that since I was maybe ten.”

“I really made you flustered.”

“Unbelievably so.” She laughs.

“Shall we have this lunch that Charles put together? Maybe plan another lunch or dinner for after this?”

“I’d love that.”

[planet-marz1]

Our Little Sheep

Summary: You and Joel celebrate christmas with your many children Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Word Count: ~4.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, implied age gap(not specified), reader is able to get pregnant, jackson!joel, peepaw!joel(really peepaw), mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of childbirth (nothing graphic), brief mentions of breastfeeding (again, nothing graphic) Lots of fluff & cuteness, Joel being a cute girl dad™, this seems like it should be a crackfic, but I promise It's so wholesome

A/N: Ok so this fic idea was born out of my cold medicine induced haze, so bear with me here guys. It's just a silly little fic, not meant to be taken seriously at all, and It's the most fun I've had writing in a bit, so I hope you enjoy reading! Just a little clarity here, the kids' ages range from 0 to 9. I know it gets all confusing here, so I am welcome to provide any further clarity if anyone needs it! A huge thank you to @catchallfangirl for helping with the naming of all of these gremlins & with the constant encouragement ❤️ Thank you to @fhatbhabie for beta reading!

lovely dividers by @pamasaur

| main masterlist | ao3 link | follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

You open your eyes slightly, squinting them. Joel sleeps peacefully next to you, his breaths even and steady. Burrowing yourself further under the blankets, you scoot closer to him, your head on his chest and intertwining your legs with his. You run your fingers through the curls of his now, fully gray hair.

Slight whines start to fill the room, and you lift your head up and glance over your shoulder to peek into the bassinet next to your side of the bed. Joel had been up with the baby all night after you two had finished wrapping up the gifts for the other kids. So, you groggily sit up in bed, reaching over to pick up the tiny little infant.

“Shhh, It’s alright, little one.” You whisper quietly, trying to calm him. After a few attempts to shush him, it’s still not working. He’s probably hungry, you figure. Lifting your shirt, you help him latch onto your breast, and he finally calms. You sigh quietly with relief. It’s all a part of the process, you try to remind yourself. Little baby Joelseph had only been born a few weeks ago. No, his name isn’t actually Joelseph. Simply a nickname given to him by his many older sisters when you had been pregnant with him. It started as a cute joke, but sure enough he came into the world, and no one was able to call him by his proper name. Named after his father, but considering the chaos of your family, the nickname is simply just another thing that you don’t bother to fight to keep the peace in the house.

The early hours of the morning are usually the small period of time when the house is completely silent. Every other waking minute is filled with the sounds of the kids, either giggling, or fighting with each other over something. Though, silence isn’t always a good thing. You’ll never forget the time the kids got into the kitchen cupboards and practically wreaked havoc in the kitchen while you were outside tending to the sheep.

Sure enough, you hear the trampling of footsteps coming down the hallway. No matter how chaotic it may be, this is your favorite part of the day. Getting to start each day greeted by all of your beautiful children, reminding you of why you are so lucky. You softly graze your fingers over the baby’s hair.

“I think your sisters are here, little guy,” You chuckle softly. The doorknob jiggles a bit. Before all of your daughters begin to spill into your bedroom, all eleven of them. Yes, eleven. You and Joel had, admittedly, gotten out of control in that department.

You and Joel had met when he had returned to Jackson in the spring with Ellie in tow. It had been an immediate connection, quite literally. Hooking up one night in the bathroom of the Tipsy Bison, which is what led to your firstborn, Emilie. The pregnancy had come as a shock, but you and Joel were excited nonetheless.

A chorus of variations of “Mom,” or “Mommy,” begin to fill the room, and you try to shush the girls, reminding them of their little brother. “Ok, girls, I know that you’re excited to get downstairs to all of your gifts, but you’ve got to settle down a bit, alright?” You whisper gently. Finally, they all nod in understanding. The calm is short-lived, though. Jane and Jules, the cutest, but menacing pair of instigators, hop on to your bed, shaking Joel’s shoulder, trying to wake their father.

They were your fourth pregnancy, which was by far the most difficult one you had ever experienced. Constant discomfort, and sleepless nights from the relentless kicking and movement from them. It wasn’t the first time you had been pregnant with twins, but It had gone nothing like you had expected it to.

Joel, though typically a light sleeper, is particularly hard to wake after a night with no sleep, hence why you’d opted on letting him sleep in. The two of them, each on one side of him, lean in close to his face, leaving little room for personal space. “Daddy.” Jules says quietly, Jane keeping a close watch.

Joel peeks one eye open, a bit startled at first at the heavy breathing from the two girls so close to his face, but the confused expression on his face is quickly replaced by a tired grin. As soon as all the girls spot that their father has woken up, they all pile onto your bed, excitedly squealing and giggling. Luckily, little baby Joelseph had already been lulled into a deep sleep after he finished nursing. Even if he hadn’t, you're pretty sure the few short weeks he’s been in the world, he’s already used to the constant noise and chaos from his older sisters.

Joel sits up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and tries to wrap his arm as many of them as humanly possible.

“When can we open our presents, daddy?” Tiny little Aurora questions impatiently. This is the first year she’s been able to fully understand the concept of Christmas, and all the gift giving. So, understandably, she is ecstatic for all the festivities of the day. She crawls into his lap, after attempting to clamber over all of her sisters in the way. Joel scratches at the scruff of his beard, and lifts her into his lap.

“How about we all eat breakfast first, sweetheart, then you all can tear into your gifts.” He says lowly, his voice still laced with sleep. “Sound like a plan?” He asks. The girls all nod in agreement.

You slowly stand up from the bed, still cradling baby Joelseph in your arms. Walking towards the door, you gesture for the girls to do the same. They all climb off of the bed, and without fail, the house is once again filled with chaos. All eleven of them racing out of your bedroom, and down the staircase to the kitchen.

Joel meets you by the doorway, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Well hello, sleepyhead.” You tease him. “Sleep well?”

“Just like usual, darling.” He kisses you again, this time placing kisses all over your face, and down your neck, before you place your hand gently on his chest stopping him from going any further.

“Not so fast, old man.” you chuckle softly. “We don’t need another one of these.” you say, gesturing down to the baby bundled up in your arms.

“One more wouldn’t hurt, huh?” He teases, and you just shake your head. 

“You say that because you aren’t the one who has to push them out.”

“We should probably get downstairs before they get into stuff that they shouldn’t be” You murmur, and Joel quietly nods in agreement.

The warmth of the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you make your way into the dining room. Joel follows you, his hand brushing against the small of your back.

You and Joel enter the dining room, and expectedly the room is already filled with screaming and chaos. Alive with the energy of your daughters, and the two mischievous kittens, Ginny and Joel, weaving in and out of the chaos. 

Emilie, your oldest, is trying to settle an argument between Lacy and Lily, your first set of twins. Nothing new in your household, nearly every morning, no matter how many times you have to tell them that every seat is the same, the kids insist on fighting on who sits where, who sits next to whom. It’s exhausting, but you can’t help but smile at the chaos unfolding before you-it’s simply the routine of your everyday life.

Emilie, with her stern expression, finally manages to resolve the seating dispute between Lacy and Lily. You glance at Joel, and he chuckles, a knowing look passing between you. The girls quickly settle into their chairs, the anticipation of Christmas morning evident in their sparkling eyes. As you take your seat at the head of the table, Joel sits beside you, and the cacophony gradually subsides. Little Aurora, perched on Joel’s lap, swings her legs excitedly, eager to dive into the festivities.

“Alright, everyone, let’s dig in!” you announce with a smile, and the room erupts in cheers. The aroma of the freshly cooked breakfast wafts through the air as the kids eagerly serve themselves.

Emilie diligently helps the younger ones with their breakfast. She occasionally steals glances at the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree, anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

Lacy and Lily are engaged in animated conversation, their excitement palpable. Daisy can’t stop giggling at something Theo whispered in her ear. The second set of twins, Jane and Jules, sit side by side, already plotting mischief as they eye the presents.

Willow, with her big curious eyes, is inspecting her plate with utmost concentration, trying to decide which part of her breakfast to tackle first.

In the midst of the laughter and chatter, you catch Joel’s eye. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent acknowledgement of the beautiful chaos that is your family. His gaze is filled with gratitude, and you can’t help but feel the same.

As the kids enjoy their breakfast, you steal a moment with Joel. “Can you believe how fast they're growing?” you murmur, your eyes dancing with a mixture of love and exhaustion.

Joel leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Feels like just yesterday we were sneaking around the Tipsy Bison.”

You laugh, the memory of that fateful night vivid in your mind. “Look where it led us.”

Kylie babbles incoherently as she attempts to mimic her older siblings. Aurora still sits on Joel’s lap, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the festive scene, and Joel aids her with her breakfast.

Maggie sits contentedly in her high chair, fingers sticky with syrup, as she munches on a piece of a pancake you’ve carefully cut up into small pieces for her.

The kids, fueled by excitement and sugar, chatter animatedly about their plans for the day. You and Joel exchange glances, both silently reveling in the joy of parenthood. The journey hasn’t been easy, but moments like these make it all worthwhile.

As breakfast winds down, you glance at Joel, both of you silently agreeing it’s time for the much-anticipated event of the morning.

The living room is now adorned with brightly wrapped gifts, a colorful display of the love and thoughtfulness you and Joel put into each one. The kids finish their breakfast, their eyes darting eagerly between the tree and the presents.

“Alright, kiddos, let the unwrapping begin!” Joel declares, and the room explodes with excitement. Each of their little faces lighting up with joy. 

“Okay, kiddos, let’s see what Santa brought us this year!” Joel exclaims, and the room erupts in cheers. The kids, now fueled by excitement from their furry friends and a hearty breakfast, rush to the tree, each claiming a spot around the mountain of gifts.

Emily takes charge, distributing gifts to each of her siblings with precision. Paper tears and laughter fill the air as each child discovers the treasures hidden beneath the wrapping.

Lacy and Lily eagerly tear into their presents, sharing excited glances when they unveil matching toys. Daisy clutches a doll close to her heart, and Jane and Jules giggle in delight at the surprise in their packages.

Theo, wide-eyed, unwraps a superhero action figure, and Willow discovers a fluffy stuffed animal that instantly becomes her new best friend. Kylie is overjoyed with a set of building blocks, her imagination already running wild.

Aurora claps her hands in glee as she unwraps a musical toy, and Maggie, though more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual gifts, coos happily.

Daisy twirls with a new dress, her face glowing with delight. “I’m going to wear this everyday!”

Aurora, surrounded by a pile of toys, claps her hands and points excitedly. “Look, Daddy, Mommy, so many toys!” Maggie, with a new plush toy in her tiny hands, giggles with joy. The room is filled with laughter and chatter as the kids excitedly showcase their new treasures.

Jane and Jules squeal in delight as they discover Joel curled up in the tangle of discarded wrapping paper, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Willow, with her big curious eyes, watches the kittens in fascination, occasionally reaching out to stroke their fur. Kylie bursts into giggles as Ginny playfully bats at a shiny ribbon. Aurora claps her hands in delight at the sight of the playful duo. Maggie points with chubby fingers, her face lighting up with a smile as Joel gracefully leaps onto the back of the couch.

Joel catches your eye, and you share a moment of warmth as you witness the joy on your children’s faces.

“Looks like our little fur balls are the stars of the show today.” He chuckles.

Watching as the kittens continue their playful antics. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of excitement, and the crinkling of wrapping paper.

As the chaos subsides, you lean into Joel, watching the kids with a contented smile. “Merry Christmas, Joel.” He whispers back the same sentiment, wrapping his arm around you, anchoring you in the midst of the joyful storm that is your family.

The room buzzes with the joyous laughter of your children, the kittens weaving throughout the living room. As the kids continue to show off their presents, Ginny and Joel curiously inspect the colorful array of toys and trinkets scattered across the room.

Emilie, your eldest, sits by your side, flipping through her new sketchbook. “Mom, look at this! It’s perfect for my drawings. Thank you, Santa!”

Lacy and Lily, wearing their matching necklaces, approach Joel with enthusiasm. “Dad, Dad! Can Joel play with us too?” they ask, extending an invitation for the adventurous kitten to join in on their imaginative play.

Daisy twirls around in her new dress, and with a dramatic flair, she curtsies. “I’m a princess, just like in the stories!”

Jane and Jules, holding their new board game, insist on a family game night. Jules, gives you a confused look, glancing from the box, and then back up at you. “What is Boggle anyway?” 

“It’s just a word game, sweetheart, definitely an easy game to beat your dad at.” you laugh softly, shooting Joel a teasing grin.

Willow proudly shows you the fluffy stuffed animal she received. “Look Mom, It’s Fluffy! Daddy, feel how soft!” She grabs his hand to place it on the stuffed animal, and Joel enthusiastically plays along with her.

Kylie, engrossed in building her tower with the new blocks, beams with accomplishment. “It’s bigger than me, Mommy!” You smile at her gently, and give her compliments on her tower building skills.

Maggie, in her own little world, squeezes her plush toy and gurgles happily. The kittens, sensing the playful atmosphere, join in on the fun, batting at the discarded ribbons and chasing each other around the room.

Joel, still basking in the warmth of the family scene, leans over to you. “Seems like Santa knew exactly what they wanted.”

You nod, a content smile playing on your lips, ‘And the best part is seeing their faces light up with joy.”

The room is filled with laughter, the sound of wrapping paper being crinkled, and the occasional meow from Ginny and Joel. The chaos is harmonious, a melody of love and togetherness that defines your family.

The kids, their excitement undeterred, start brainstorming plans for the day–games to play, stories to tell, and perhaps a snowball fight if the weather permits. As the festivities continue, you can’t help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that fills your home–a treasure more precious than any gift under the tree.

As the kids reveled in the excitement of unwrapping their Christmas gifts, their attention turned to the chalkboard on the mantle–a poignant memorial to their older sister, Sarah. The room hushed momentarily as the children exchanged thoughtful glances, understanding the significance of the chalkboard.

The kids had put together some artwork and drawings the night before. They gather around the chalkboard, placing their artwork in front of it, creating a beautiful display of love and remembrance. The room, now adorned with their heartfelt tributes, felt infused with a sense of warmth and connection to Sarah’s memory.

Joel, watching from a distance, can't help but be moved by the sincerity and creativity of his children. The simple act of setting their drawings in front of the chalkboard transformed the mantle into a gallery of love—a tangible expression of the enduring impact Sarah's memory had on their hearts.

As the morning continued, the drawings stood as cherished tokens—a beautiful reminder that, even in the midst of joyous celebrations, the love for their sister would always hold a special place in the family's heart.

You nudge Joel gently, catching his attention. “Any Idea when Ellie, Dina, and JJ are planning to arrive?”

Joel looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the room to make sure all the kids are engaged in their newfound treasures. “They’re aiming to get here just in time for lunch. Should be any moment now.”

Excitement lights up on your face at the news. “The kids are going to be over the moon to see them again, and It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.”

Joel nods in agreement, a fond smile playing on his lips. “Ellie’s always been good at timing. They’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, a gentle knock at the door catches your attention. You glance at Joel, both of you sharing a knowing smile. The anticipation in the room heightens as the kids, sensing something special, look toward the door with wide eyes. Moments later, the front door bursts open, and the lively chatter of Ellie and Dina fills the air. The children squeal in delight, dropping their toys and rushing toward the doorway. Ellie enters first, holding JJ’s hand, Dina follows closely behind with a warm grin on her face.

The kids shout at them in unison, enveloping the new arrivals in a sea of hugs and excitement. You and Joel stand back, watching the heartwarming reunion unfold.

Ellie, catching your eye, gives you a knowing nod. “Merry Christmas!” she says as she greets you and Joel. You welcome them with open arms, a surge of joy filling your heart. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

As the laughter and joyful chaos continue to fill the room, you can’t help but marvel at the beautiful tapestry of your family, woven together by love, shared moments, and the bonds that withstand the test of time.

Amidst the joyful commotion, you navigate through the sea of excited children, still cradling little Joelseph in your arms. Joel joins you, and together you watch as Ellie, Dina, and JJ immerse themselves in the holiday cheer.

Ellie, after receiving an enthusiastic welcome from the kids, approaches you with a playful grin.

“How’s the newest little troublemaker doing?” she asks, casting an affectionate glance at Joelseph.

You chuckle, gently rocking the sleeping baby in your arms. “He’s been an angel all morning, surprisingly.” you yawn, tiredly.

Dina joins the conversation, “He’s gotten so big since we last saw him. Mind if we steal him for a bit?”

You nod with a smile, carefully passing Joelseph over to Dina. The little one stirs for a moment, but settles back into a peaceful slumber in Dina’s arms. “He’s all yours.’

The room continues to buzz with giggles and Ellie, Dina, and JJ become a seamless part of the festivities. The kids eagerly show them their new toys, and soon, the kittens, Ginny and Joel join the playful parade.

As the day unfolds, the house becomes a vibrant canvas, painted with the hues of love and togetherness. Joel, now with Aurora on his shoulders, navigates through the lively crowd. You find a quiet moment with Ellie, who is holding Joelseph with a tender smile.

“He’s adorable,” Ellie remarks, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and affection. “Feels like just yesterday you were dealing with my teenage antics.”

You laugh, remembering those not-so-distant days. “Time flies, doesn’t it? Now look at us, and you, with a little family of your own.”

Ellie glances around the room, the sparkle of the holiday lights reflecting in her eyes. “Couldn’t ask for a better way to spend Christmas. And look at Joel, still being the heart and soul of this chaos.”

You follow her gaze to Joel, who is now surrounded by a group of kids, listening intently to one of Jane and Jules’ stories. The love in his eyes is evident as he shares in their laughter and mischief.

Ellie looks back at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You both did an amazing job. I’m proud to be part of this.”

And in that moment, as the laughter and warmth of your family envelop you, you couldn’t agree more. This Christmas, with all its magic, has woven another chapter into the rich tapestry of your lives–a chapter filled with love, laughter, and the cherished moments that make your family truly extraordinary.

As the festivities continue, Ellie, still cradling Joelseph, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Joel. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she approaches Joel, who’s now attempting to disentangle himself from a knot of kids.

“Hey, old man,” Ellie quips, giving Joel a playful nudge. “You holding up okay with all these little rascals running around?”

Joel chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. “Someone’s gotta keep ‘em in check. You’ll find out soon enough, Ellie. Parenthood’s no joke.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to Joelseph. “You’re the expert now, huh? It took you guys long enough to figure out the secret recipe for a baby boy.”

Joel grumbles and feigns offense. “Well, it’s not like we had a manual.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Says the guy who needed a football team's worth of daughters before finally getting a son.”

You join in on the banter, giving Joel an amused smile. “Took a bit of trial and error, but look at our charming little Joelseph now.”

Ellie leans in, bouncing the baby gently in her arms. “Not bad for an old guy, huh, kiddo?” she cooed, earning a content gurgle from the baby.

As the day of joyful chaos begin to wind down, the once lively house now settles into a more serene atmosphere. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree cast a gentle glow over the living room as the laughter of the children gradually transforms into quiet giggles and yawns.

You and Joel, tired but content, herd the kids upstairs for their bedtime routine. The kittens, Ginny and Joel, follow along, their playful antics slowing down as they, too, sensing the impending calm.

“Alright kiddos, time for bed.” Joel announces, his tone gentle but firm as he ushers the kids into their respective rooms.

The procession of bedtime rituals unfold–one by one, teeth are brushed, pajamas are put on, and stories are read. The younger ones nestle into their beds, eyelids growing heavy with the sweet fatigue of a day filled with excitement.

As you check on each child, offering goodnight kisses and tucking them in, Joel moves gracefully through the house, turning off the twinkling lights and closing curtains. The house seems to exhale, the echoes of joyous laughter replaced by the hushed whispers of bedtime.

In the quiet moments between putting the kids to bed, you found Joel in the hallway, sharing a look of satisfaction passing between you. The day had been a whirlwind of love and joy, and now the peaceful hush settles over the house like a comforting blanket.

“Another Christmas for the books,” Joel remarks, his voice low.

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “And many more to come, I hope.”

The two of you continue the nightly routine, gently closing doors and ensuring the house was ready for the calm of night. The soft glow of the light spilling from your bedroom illuminates your path as you and Joel make your way into the room, where little Joelseph lay sleeping in his bassinet.

Joel pauses by the doorway, his eyes fondly watching the baby. “He’s been the best gift, hasn’t he?”

You nod, a warmth settling in your heart. “The best, indeed.”

The day had been a symphony of chaos and joy, a beautiful crescendo that had now found its resolution in the quietude of the evening. As you and Joel retire to your room, you can’t help but reflect on the blessings of family, love, and the precious moments that make Christmas truly magical.

tag list: @pertinentpostmortem @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @bastardmandenni @chaotic-mystery @beskarandblasters @amanitacowboy @littlegrungegirlaf @pedrodascal @sweetercalypso @ilovepedro @cool-iguana @alwaysmicado @lovers-liability @futuraa-free @morgaussy @pedritoferg @spookykoolkat @wethairjoel @chronically-ghosted @buckyispunk @pattwtf @morning-star-joy @elvinaa @tinycozycomfort @magpiepills @pr0ximamidnight @joelscurls @janaispunk @5oh5 @farmerlarrry @maximoff-forevermore @atinylittlepain @joeldjarin @spookyxsam @mrsmando @hyzer34 @limerence4u @sin-djarin @reddedmiller @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa @kajashe @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @vee-bees-blog @josephquinnswhore @worhols

lmk if you'd like to be removed from the tag list! 💜or let me know if you'd like to be added!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May I request the FNAF movie with a reader possessing Sparky? They’re an adult or in their late teens as opposed to the kids. They don’t “wake up” often but when they do they have a commanding presence over the others.

YES thank you for this Sparky ask-

15 year old me would have flipped her lid if she knew a FNAF 1 hoax would become canon in a movie

........

First...it was the distant muffled screams that awakened your systems, mechanical eyelids slowly fluttering open.

Then..there were louder sounds. Clearer sounds:

A woman's screaming cut short.

Bones crunching.

Flesh squelching.

And finally, something heavy hitting the floor with a thud.

Only then were you fully alert.

As your optics adjusted to the dimness of the backstage room, you realized that it wasn't just the old costumes and springlock suits that were keeping you company.

Freddy was here, too...with half a human corpse laying at his feet.

Your eyes widened out of shock.

Although you've seen him and the others kill before, what he did to that woman was quite abhorrent.

You didn't even think was possible for him to-

"You're awake."

Blinking, your head turned to see the Golden Freddy suit lingering by the door, standing up. His mouth didn't move, but you could tell from his single functioning eye, which was pulsating with a soft blue glow, that the child possessing him was talking to you.

All you could do was glare, your suit's mouth opening. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you letting them act like animals?" Your voice spoke.

In the blink of an eye, he was replaced by a blond boy in a striped shirt. He walked over to you, taking your paw and helping you stand. "It's not me. Some bad people broke in and tried to hurt them. Three others were with her, but they've all been taken care of."

As annoyed as you wanted to be, you knew you couldn't blame them for wanting to protect themselves.

Hell, you didn't even know what fully happened.

Maybe it was justifiable.

"Fine. Bring them here so we can hide the evidence...assuming we have enough room to hide all of it, of course."

The boy just smiled innocently, pointing to where you were sitting.

"Don't worry, there's always enough room for everyone."

You briefly looked to the empty purple Freddy suit that laid in pieces beside you, huffing. "I guess it'll do...I just hope they didn't leave too much of a mess-"

When you looked back to where the boy was, he had vanished completely.

He liked doing that a lot.

You're just relieved that there's at least ONE person you could talk to after being stuck in this pizzeria for.....

For.....

It suddenly occurred to you that you had genuinely forgotten how long you've been here. And the same holds true for the other children...who couldn't even remember their own names anymore. Now they only respond to the names of their characters.

Although there were significant gaps in your memories of being alive, your latest one was of the day you saw a yellow rabbit leading some kids away--taking them one at a time to show them a "backstage tour".

After the fifth one vanished, you followed him, but for some reason....he got angry that you did so.

It's like he didn't want you to see something.

Next thing you knew, you woke up, looking through the eyes of Sparky the Dog--a character you remembered from a diner that once collaborated with Freddy's for a short time.

At some point he was retired, as he kept breaking down while performing to the point where the owner didn't wanna keep repairing him.

And so Sparky--and you--were shoved backstage, being used for nothing more than spare parts.

Unfortunately, that led to you scarcely waking up and roaming like the rest of the Fazbear Band. But whenever you did, they all seemed to listen to you for some reason, doing whatever you asked of them like obedient dogs.

Ironic, considering you were the one possessing a dog.

However it seems you've woken up a tad bit too late this time, as apparently a group of adults have broken into the place, and without your guidance, the gang took it upon themselves to deal with it how ever they could.

But it seems they left quite the bloody mess...or at least Freddy did, given the red stains on his teeth.

You approached him, stopping only to point at the half-eaten body. He seemed to recognize your expression as the "I'm not mad, just disappointed" look, and his ears flattened in slight shame.

If only he could talk to you so he could explain himself..

Before you could give him an order, the doors creaked open, and you both turned around to see Bonnie, Foxy, and Chica slowly filing into the room.

Each of them dragged in their own brutally-slain victim, the intruders he must have been talking about:

Bonnie brought a man who had blood oozing from his mouth, palms covered in the same sticky substance.

Using his bloodstained hook, Foxy struggled to carry the weight of a younger man covered in deep gash marks and bite wounds on his head.

And in Chica's grasp was another man whose face had been chewed off by her Cupcake--arguably the most brutal way a person could die.

All at once, they stopped and dropped the corpses to the ground, staring at you and awaiting further directions.

You assessed each one before turning just your eyes towards the wall where you often sat deactivated, pointing to the various suits laying there.

Immediately, they knew what to do, and you also got to work helping them hide the "evidence" and making these intruders part of the band.

Forever and ever

[impactedfates]

hihi!! platonic jing yuan and yanqing with yanqing’s younger twin?

★ A/N: We love this found family dynamic adnifnogrn

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial (Found Family)

★ Format: HeadCannons + Mini Scenarios

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Not proof read, wanted to ramble in a way. I love the found family trope wkdnfrg // Reader is taller then Yanqing but younger // Single father JY // Reader is part of the alchemy commission (not stated much as I don't know much about it/can't remember) // I wrote this on my phone at like 3am

General Family HCs - Platonic! Jing Yuan + Yanqing + GN! Reader

Despite you and Yanqing being twins. Both him and Jing Yuan are still protective over you despite you only being younger by like a couple of seconds. You DO have freedman. They’re not that over protective. But do expect at least one of them to visit when you’re at work.

The difference in how you all treat your room honestly…Jing Yuans room is messy, sure his bed is made but documents and such are all over the place. Being a general means he can’t really have the time to care. Yanqing room (at least his side of the room - you two share) is also messy. Not as messy as Jing Yuans. Actually probably messier. There’s swords laying on the ground (safely) and clothes. Your side of the room is more cleaner. I feel like if you work at the alchemy commission you probably know it’s important to keep tidy.

Jing Yuan goes all out for your birthday with Yanqing. He’ll throw a party and get anything the two of you want. Even if they contrast horribly with each other. He will be making the two of you happy. Even if it means confusing anyone walking by if you decide to have it in a more public area.

You probably have been taught how to wield a sword. Both Jing Yuan and Yanqing know they’ll have to stop constantly checking in on you. So to ensure you’ll be able to protect yourself. You know how to wield a sword (or any weapon of your choosing)

I have a weird feeling you’re the best cook out of the trio. The other two do help though!…With like mixing and cutting. Jing Yuan at least knows how to cook simple, but if you want to feel fully fed and energised for the day. Perhaps you should take over?

Yanqing used to be taller. But then you grew taller. Honestly it’s funny to see how pouty he was when you first grew a few inches above his own height. He’s fine now though…just don’t assume he’s the younger twin.

Jing Yuan has a habit of patting your head. Yours and Yanqing. It’s his subtle way of saying “I’m proud of you” and he always is. He’s proud of the two of you and how far you’ve come. He’s proud to consider the two of you his children. And he’ll be proud of the two of you until he dies.

When you first joined the alchemy commission. I feel as though Yanqing wanted as many updates as he could about you. Jing Yuan trusted whoever was your mentor there but Yanqing was a bit worried. He will always protect his younger twin! Once he knows you’re doing well, he’ll start actually paying attention to HIS job.

If you say anyone bullied you for anything? Yanqing there to give them a piece of his mind (and if things got physical - maybe do some pay back) and Jing Yuans there to help and reassure you.

100% you all cuddled when you and Yanqing were much younger. Jing Yuan could not let his little babies alone. (He had to eventually, wasn’t happy)

Once you and Yanqing tried styling Jing Yuans hair and a family of birds flew out.

I feel like I said this before but just encase I haven’t - If you ever get a partner, they’re gonna have to get the approval of both of them. Jing Yuan may be easier to impress but Yanqing might be a bit harder

You honestly probably got to boast that your dad was the general at school. Whether or not you did is up to you.

Imagine a small you and a Yanqing struggling to hold up Jing Yuans weapon. You’re lifting up one side and Yanqings lifting up the other.

You also have a lion that you can snuggle up with :D Mini loves you, maybe you’re her favourite 👁👁

I absolutely hate working on my phone. But I didn’t have my laptop with me to do this sob. I’ll fix anything once I have it again if I find any mistakes

Last request will be started as soon as I come home from school! I’m hoping to have it posted by Sunday or Monday :))

[where-dreamers-go]

"Cheesy" Part One - Leon Kennedy x Reader

(A/N: What if you were set up on a blind date with Leon Kennedy? This is extremely self indulgent. You could picture any age of Leon, I guess. Also, Reader works at a school in this.

Warnings: awkward/nervous interactions, use of (Y/N), (mx), and (Y/L/N) for your names, pizza topping preference for cheese, language, and mentions of Leon’s arms.

Word Count: 4,087 words)

~~~

~~~

Your friend knew people, could network like no other.

But set you up on a blind date?

You were anxious. Curious, but nervous at the thought of going on a first date with someone you had never met.

Your friend knew you well enough. Knew some of your preferences in a partner. A good amount.

You hoped.

They had gotten your permission to try finding someone.

“Stop giving me that look.” Your friend laughed. “I’ve only heard good things.” They sipped from their cup of coffee.

“Only good things?” You asked.

They crossed their arms. Staring at you from the other side of the table.

“Well, I mean…like what? What’s his name? What’s he look like? Does he know my name?”

They laughed and nodded. “He knows your name.”

“And?” You leaned over your lunch.

“He has a steady job, his name is Leon, he’s interested, and you’ll like what you’ll see. That’s all I’m saying.”

“But is he nice? Clean?”

“Yes and listen, I basically asked fifty questions before fully considering this guy. And he had agreed to the pizza place you suggested.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.”

“Everything’s set for Saturday.” They beamed.

You exhaled hoping to calm yourself from the news.

Maybe this’ll be fun.

. . .

Saturday afternoon and the lunch rush was on its way.

Thankfully, you managed to arrive early. You could not think of arriving to your destination any later.

Nerves and excited curiosity filled you.

The pizza place was one of your favorites. Kind staff, good food, and a chill atmosphere. A nice small restaurant for a date. Nothing fancy and you would be able to hear your own conversation.

At least I picked a Saturday, you thought, Friday evenings are wild. Especially right after school.

Entering through the front door, you did a quick glance around the small waiting area. The smell of fresh pizza was a welcome delight.

Definitely not them, you thought as you watched two families trying to shush their children. Probably waiting on someone.

Squeezing by, you walked up to the server station. The little podium looking thing no one was standing behind.

You waited a moment.

And breathe. This isn’t a job interview or anything.

Running your hands over your clothes, you were still happy with your choice of outfit. A flattering soft of casual.

“Hi. Welcome,” a young woman rushed up to stand behind the station. “Sorry for the wait. How many today?”

“Two,” you said. “I’m meeting someone.”

A flicker of thought shown in her eyes and she asked, “Are you (Y/N)?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” You answered, clearly surprised.

“Is your date’s name Leon?” A small smile peaked the corners of her lips.

“Yeah…”

I thought they didn’t do reservations.

She walked around the station and gestured toward the dining room. “Right this way, please.”

Wait. Can I pick for a booth or somewhere not by the restrooms? Who would make the reservation? You thought as you followed her.

A good amount of the tables had hungry guests chewing between conversations. None too obnoxious.

Still, the woman led you forward, blocking some of your view.

You were starting to get the feeling you weren’t early enough.

Coming to a stop by a booth, the young woman turned enough to speak to you and a man who stood up upon your arrival.

“Here we are. Do you know what you two would like to drink or should I give you a minute?”

Locking gazes with the man, you swallowed.

You really wished your friend would had told you how handsome your date was.

You blinked and answered, “Ice water.”

“Uh, water, please.” He said and cleared his throat.

You caught the server’s smirk.

“All right. I’ll give you some time to look over the menu and I’ll be back.” She left with her notepad.

The last window along the wall illuminated the man’s brown hair and expressive blue eyes.

“I’m Leon,” he said and offered a small smile, “hi.”

“Hi, I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.” You gave a smile of your own and a small wave you wished you hadn’t.

“Yeah—uh. I’m glad we could do this.” Leon glanced over to the booth and gestured quickly.

The both of you took your seats across from each other. Two menus lay on the table between.

Maybe he’s nervous too.

“So,” Leon tapped the menu, “I have to ask… What’s your favorite topping?”

“Not pineapple.”

“Oh, good,” he chuckled, exhaling some tension. “I wasn’t sure if we were going to have a debate on our hands.”

“I hope not. I’ve always preferred extra cheese. You?”

“I’m not too picky. I like pepperoni. We could—”

“One water and one ice water.” The server placed each glass on its own paper coaster. “Do you know what you’d like to order?”

Crap. You thought and eyed the menu.

“Would you like to share a pizza?” Leon asked. “Half cheese half pepperoni?” His blue eyes holding a soft kindness within.

Here come the butterflies. You took a steady breath and nodded.

“What size?” She asked, holding her tiny notepad.

“Medium?” You looked to Leon.

“Medium.” He agreed while glancing over to the server’s notepad.

“Alright.” She tapped her pen.

“Thank you.” You said as the server left again and took the menus.

That was fast.

Taking a long sip of the water, you were grateful for the coolness. A nice refresh to ease you and cool you down.

Because your date was hot. Simple as that and yet you were still taking time to process the fact: you were on a date.

No weird vibes. That’s good. You thought as you set the glass down. And he got here before me! Peering up, you saw your date glancing around the dining room.

When he caught you looking, Leon smiled. “This place is nice. Do you come here often?”

His words made you crack a smile. “A little bit. Not as often as I used to.” You lowered your voice and added, “I usually make my own pizza now.”

Lighting up with interest, Leon leaned his arms on the table. Quite muscular arms shown well with his button-up shirt.

“You make your own pizza? It’s better than any takeout, huh?”

“Not gonna lie,” you sat a little taller, “the dough’s a lot better and no grease on top.”

“Sauce preference?”

“Family recipe. Homemade.”

Leon grinned. Clearly you were making an impression.

The butterflies in your stomach returned tenfold.

“Favorite cheese?”

You crossed your arms over the table and thought on it. “My favorite cheese…is whatever I have at home.”

That earned you a snicker from your date.

“Have you made pizza before?” You tried your hand at a question.

Food was an easy topic it seemed. Pizza mostly.

Hair shielded some of his face as he tilted his head, Leon squinted his face and admitted, “I’ve made pizza orders.”

“So, no?”

“No.” He affirmed. “I should.”

“Maybe one day.”

He nodded softly.

So far, Leon was easy to talk to. Your date thus far would rank less awkward than talks you’ve had with overly curious neighbors. You were more than grateful for that.

And he has a really cute smile. You thought as silence filled the table.

“How are you?”

“What?” Leon perked up as if the question caught him completely off guard.

Perhaps it did.

“How are you?” You asked again, trying to put all of your honesty into your tone.

Exhaling, he turned his sights out the window, but only for a moment. “Better than I expected.” His blue eyes held your gaze. “I’ve never been convinced to go on a blind date before.”

You were surprised with how relieved you were with his answer.

“This is your first blind date too?” You whispered.

Both of you took a moment to read the other. Making sure and double checking. Learning through observation.

Once Leon nodded, you sat back with a relieved exhale.

“Oh, thank goodness. I thought it was just me. My friend wouldn’t even answer all my questions.” You laughed lightly at yourself. “I’ve been making myself nervous.”

“Is that a rule?” Leon asked. “My friends refused to tell me shit.”

Covering your mouth, you muffled some of your laughter. Mostly, anyway.

Sitting back against the seat with a light affectionate smile, Leon managed to look twice as handsome and twice as comfortable. It made you start to wonder why he didn’t already have a partner.

Then again, he was probably having a similar question.

“What questions did you ask? No judgement.”

“No judgement.” He repeated, thinking.

Bring it on. We need to know more about each other. More than just pizza anyway, you thought while drinking more water and waiting for the pizza.

“Yah know, I asked what you’re like first. It’s a good start.”

“Good question.” You said, partially stalling as you thought to answer. “I’m…a hard worker, creative, uh…,” you trailed off. “I sound like my résumé.”

He smiled and said, “I won’t ask for references. Promise.”

“I’m really honest and empathic. I make a lot of movie references. My friends say I’m funny, but that’s really based on preference…and timing.”

“I believe them.”

“Thank you.” You wiped your hands on your attire, out of sight. “So what were your other questions?”

“What do you do for a living?”

You perked up. Glad to have an easy question. “I work at a school.”

His eyebrows rose a fraction.

“I’m essentially in charge of the media center—all the books, book faire, and some tech. It’s not what I planned, but I like it.”

“Do you like to read?”

“Yeah. My reading list keeps growing though. Not that I mind.” You said, noticing how his hair framed his face, a balance of soft and sharp. “What about you?”

Blue eyes flickered away. “Not really. Work takes up a lot of time.” Leon seemed to be drifting away, mind elsewhere.

“What do you do for a living?” You asked softly, just in case.

Tension in his jaw fully took away his smile.

Is this a touchy subject?

Leon’s voice was hushed and somehow almost distant. “I work for the government.”

“Oh.”

Returning his gaze to you, Leon gauged your reaction.

“Sounds like a lot of e-mails.” You tried lightening the mood.

I don’t think he likes his ‘steady job’.

The corner of his lips lifted.

Okay cool. He doesn’t think what I said was stupid. Cool.

“Well, um,” you swallowed and hoped you weren’t being too awkward, “as long as your co-workers treat you like a person and not tech support.”

Multiple emotions ran across Leon’s face, none of which you could read fast enough. What you could discern was how the tension left his muscles. A mystery really, your date.

“I’m not the first one they’d call to help with a computer.”

“Maybe for good company?” You offered.

In midst of leaning closer, Leon’s attention veered over to movement at the far end of the dining room.

Walking into the room with a pan in one hand and a tray under her other arm, your server returned with another employee. Steam rose from the pizza more clear as she reached the booth.

“Here we are.” She announced happily.

Before either you or Leon could offer help, the young woman set up the tray beside the table in a swift motion.

“Be careful. It’s hot.” She set the pizza pan on the tray.

The other employee placed a pair of plates on the table along with a pizza server and a pile of napkins.

A couple of ‘thank you’s later and you were both left alone with a delicious smelling pizza. Seriously, the two of you were eyeing the pie with hungry intent.

“That smells good.” Leon grabbed the pizza server and reached over to the pizza. “One cheese pizza slice comin’ up.” A playful side shone through easily.

“Thank you,” you said as he plated a slice.

Oh, no. He’s cute, you thought, glad he didn’t see whatever silly grin was plastered on your face.

Out of habit or restaurant routine, you grabbed the shaker of cheese. You took a second to make sure the lid was secure. Then, despite the hot cheese all over the wonderful slice, you shook a generous amount of parmesan on top and a dash more.

You hadn’t lied about favoring cheese.

And apparently you and your date were equally craving a taste of pizza. By bite number two your eyes met for a second.

Trying to hide a smile while chewing was an oddly clumsy human act. Awkward during a date, but humble none the less.

Behind you and out of view, children spoke animatedly entering the dining room. Kid drama and discussing characters. Common conversations held even in school. You had heard plenty from students. Some more entertaining than others.

You took another bite of the pizza.

“(mx). (Y/L/N),” a young voice came from close by.

Quickly swallowing, you glanced over to a familiar face.

“Hi,” the little girl waved, perched backwards in a chair.

You gave a friendly wave with your free hand. A movement watched by the child and her two tables’ worth of family members.

So was the life of working at an elementary school.

The girl pointed and asked, “Is he your friend?” Curious eyes on your date.

Behind the girl, a woman looked at the girl with wide eyes and glanced to you with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry.” She said. “Lottie, turn around please.”

“I finished the book.”

“That’s great,” you replied earnestly. “I hope you liked it.”

“Kinda.”

“Oh,” you chuckled lightly. “Well, I hope you like your food more.”

Grinning, Lottie, sat properly in her seat. All attention reverting to whatever was just passed her nose; her family included.

“Sorry about that.” You turned to see your date with an amused expression.

“No need. Thought she was going to give you review.”

“Same here.” You reached for your pizza slice again. “I think hers was about cats or kittens. Something.”

“Are there any books you’d recommend to someone who doesn’t read much?”

Now that was a question you liked to hear.

“Are you more into fiction or non-fiction books?”

“Fiction.” He took a sip from his water.

“Hmm.” You were left with more questions of his preferences. “I think I need to know a bit more about you first before I can recommend one just yet.”

“Fair enough. Ask away.” Leon finished off a slice and grabbed himself another.

“Okay. Are you an outdoor person?”

“Some days more than others.”

You took another bite of pizza.

“Some times I just want to stay inside. Don’t have to worry about weather or animals.”

“Are you an animal person? I mean—do you like animals?” You shut yourself up with another bite.

“I do. They just live their lives. Unless some…someone leaves a trap out.” A seriousness made his gaze on the table firm.

“Some people are real jerks.”

“Yeah.” He took a quick bite.

“Morning person or night owl?”

“Night owl. When I don’t have to be up early.”

“Sunrises are pretty, but sleep is really nice.”

“You a night owl?”

“Yup. Forced to wake up super early for work. Then go, go, go. No wonder so many people drink coffee.”

“Do you drink coffee?”

“I prefer not to make it a necessity to staying awake. I see people drinking it throughout the day. I can’t imagine doing that. There’s other ways to get energy.”

“Food.”

“Exactly.”

“Want another slice?” Leon asked, pizza server in hand.

“Sure, thank you.”

“Can’t let someone as hard-working and cute as you go hungry.”

He plated the slice onto your plate as you felt heat start at your neck.

“Thank you.” Your voice almost hushed in sound.

Small smile on his lips, Leon handed you the shaker full of cheese. The tips of his fingers brushed yours before retreating to his pizza.

Crap. What were we talking about? You swallowed and added more cheese to your new pizza slice.

“So, uh… How would you describe yourself?”

Leon thought on it for a moment or two, eating pizza. Dark eyebrows pinching together as he considered an answer.

Honestly, you deeply needed to know what Leon was like. To know if he was friend material and more.

Shifting in his seat, Leon answered, “Loyal to ones I care about. A little too hard-working.”

“Dedicated?”

“Yeah.” He ripped off a piece of the pizza crust. “Helpful, protective… This is a hard question.”

“It is.”

“I try to be optimistic.” He added.

“That’s good. Some times it’s really hard. Even on what’s suppose to be a good day. It’s a part of life. Some days suck and others surprise you in a good way.”

A silent exchange of understanding passed between the pair of you, deep and dense.

Slices of pizza slowly disappeared from the pan as the date continued more strongly. Less awkward and more fun. Bouncing questions back and forth while being a little too honest with answers. Laughter really was contagious.

Time passed well into the lunch rush and the two of you remained in the booth. Sharing and reminiscing taste in music and movies continued longer than some people’s stay in the dining room.

A conversation of one specific movie had you two in a passionate exchange of words. Both leaning close and speaking animatedly.

“And people probably think we’re only looking at the decorations to call it a Christmas movie.”

“They’re not use to action in Christmas movies,” Leon added.

“Only the family drama.”

“Yeah.”

“But that’s a part of why it’s a Christmas movie. They’re apart in the beginning, they work through their problems, and—bam—they’re together in the end with better understandings of each other.”

“And it ends with Christmas music. It’s great.”

“She also punched the reporter guy.”

“He had it coming.”

“Kind of satisfying. Not gonna lie.”

Leon chuckled.

“Okay,” you spoke up. “Random question.”

He nodded.

“Can you speak more than one language?”

“Sí.”

“Bueno.” You smirked along with him.

Eyes roaming the sight in front of you, you tried not to be distracted by what of Leon’s muscles you could see defined from his nice shirt. It wasn’t even tight fitting. Plus it was a nice color on him.

Does he have to workout for his job? Or is he the best looking in the building by chance? You thought as you reached for your glass of water, condensation cool against your fingertips.

Until it wasn’t.

“No.”

The glass fumbled from your grasp and the last of the melted ice water spilled onto your thigh.

“Whoa.” Leon already had napkins in his hand as he leaned over the table. “You okay?”

“It’s cold.” You placed the glass down on the table firmly.

“I bet.” He replied sincerely.

Gratefully, you took the napkins and pressed them onto your leg as well as the seat to absorb as much moisture as possible. They worked as well as thin paper could. Fabric was just too absorbent.

“It’s mostly the side of my thigh. So it’s not too bad.”

“Glad you didn’t get a refill, huh?”

You looked up at him. “Definitely.”

Behind his blue eyes, a flash of disappointment emerged and he said, “You probably want to get going and be dry.” It almost sounded like a question.

“Probably.” Your words didn’t sound too convincing.

A small raise of his hand and Leon signaled over your server. “Hey, can we have two boxes to-go?”

“Sure.”

If you hadn’t been watching you would had missed him handing her the slim black bill folder. He must had slipped a card or cash in there when you weren’t paying attention. Leon was quick, you could give him that.

After the server walked away, you rose an eyebrow at him.

“What? Did you want the pepperoni too?”

“No…”

Shuffling in his seat slightly, he asked, “Do you mind that I paid?”

“More so that you didn’t say anything. I don’t want you thinking it’s what I expect or something. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. And it’s well noted for next time.”

“Next time?” You perked up. “Are you…wanting a second date?”

“I am.” Leon smiled confidently, hiding most of his nerves.

Your heart beat picked up in your chest.

He likes me? You thought in glee.

“Here we go.” The young woman returned with two descent sized containers. “Is there anything else I can help you two with?” She slid Leon a receipt folded around a card.

“No. I think we’re good.”

“Thank you.” He pocketed his wallet.

“No problem. Have a good day.”

“You too.” You replied to her retreating form.

The pair of you packaged the remaining slices into the containers. Each of you taking one.

Leon grabbed his jacket off of the booth. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You scooted out from the seat, suddenly more aware of the large wet patch on your thigh.

“Here.” Leon whispered from close behind you. He handed you his jacket. “Hold that there and no one will notice”

“Thank you.”

Grateful and a little flustered, you led the way out of the dining room with your date’s jacket draped over your arm. A shield in hiding your water accident. And that was not even a start of mentioning the man walking behind you. He wasn’t in your space, keeping a respectful distance. Yet you could sense his proximity.

Was it too much for you to consider him even an ounce protective? You weren’t sure.

Two steps away from the exit, Leon deftly slid by you to open the door and hold it for you.

“Thank you.” You stepped out onto the sidewalk and out of the way of the door.

How long were we in there? You wondered at the sight of a full parking lot.

Leon came up beside you. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“True. Cheesy, but true.” You smiled and handed him back his jacket.

“From what I’ve seen, you like extra cheese.”

“Yeah, okay.” You walked further down the sidewalk.

Chuckling happily, Leon went alongside you.

Why did it feel like the date was too short for you?

There were so many more things you wanted to say.

“If it wasn’t for me being a klutz, I’d treat you to either the soft serve ice cream or the place with gelato in town.”

“A gelato and more time with you. That is a treat.” Leon flirted openly.

“So…about a second date.”

Stopping at the edge of the sidewalk, you looked to him with a flutter in your stomach. Luckily, you still had a good grip on your pizza box.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

You ducked your head as a smile immediately appeared.

“Can I have your number so I can call you some time?”

“Only if I can have yours.” You pulled out your cell phone.

“Twist my arm,” he teased sarcastically.

After he fished his phone from his pocket, you both exchanged numbers. Immediately double checking afterwards.

“And I’m not weird with how long or how soon to contact the other person,” you stated. “That’s too complicated for me to keep up with.”

Stepping into the parking lot, you headed towards your vehicle with Leon, not far from the building.

“Good to know.”

“And I really had a good time. So thank you.”

The features of his face softened. A twinkle in his eyes revealing his genuine relief and hope. Your words meant something to him.

“Thank you.” He shifted the jacket in his hold. “I wasn’t sure about any of this…until you showed up. I’m glad I came.” Shoulders raising, he made eye contact with you again. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

“You can call me later. That way I can check my work-school calendar.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you later.” He glanced at your vehicle. “Drive safe, (Y/N).”

“You too.”

He took a step back.

“And Leon?”

He paused, attentive.

“I’m really glad I came too.”

Fully grinning, Leon made his way to his own vehicle. Peeking over to you as he did so.

Why’d I have to be a klutz today?

Even if you had to shorten your time with your date, you were more than happy with how everything turned out. You couldn’t wait to see Leon again. Then, perhaps, you could recommend him a book too.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Leon Scott Kennedy Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[brimleysbears]

(Featured media: Burl Ives and Rock Hudson - from The Spiral Road, 1962)

"Fan" fiction erotica - "Hollywood Confessions: My Date With Big Daddy"

Post 4 of 4

Epilogue:

A Horny Old Bull

To conclude, I was in fact on the pill, after all, it was 1963; therefore no, I didn’t begat a cute little chubby Ives child, although sometimes I wish I had. Although that man could be a bit of a creep at times, like most men I suppose, I’ll never forget that night with Big Daddy. In fact, as much as it was embarrassing, there were other reasons why I kept that story to myself after all these years. I admit, that was the most fun I’ve ever had with a man. Sometimes I question whether I was head over heels in love with that big old brute.

As much as I wanted to see him again, I found out soon afterwards that he had actually scheduled all of those men to see him that night with the intention of not telling me, while planning on having sex with me, in order for the meetings to coincide with his coitus. I never found out exactly why he did that, and if it was his intention to use me or not. I was angry for a season and never wanted to see him again after that, but looking back, I regret not seeing him more times. I would have liked to get all of his seed in me and looked at him face to face the entire time that he had his climax. I would have liked to try other things with him, and maybe even be his mistress when he was working in Hollywood. The more I learned about what probably did happen, was that he was proud to seduce a young dancer like myself, and although I don’t like to be someone’s ‘bragging rights’, in a way I felt honored. One of the older ladies at the Manhattan cocktail party said, “sounds to me like he was just trying to get those businessmen off his back and find ways to taunt them.”

As I spoke to my girlfriends late that night, finishing my story, one of the women remarked that, perhaps that lonely old man being away from home needed a special companion, and not another ‘high-profile figure’ like himself? As we talked, one of the more educated ‘uptown’ ladies said, “if you ask me, like a lot of men in show business those days, he was desperate to try to prove that he was a heterosexual; in a similar way they constantly had to deliver proof they were not some kind of communist as well. After all, Mr. Ives worked closely with a lot of queers like Tennessee Williams and was even filmed naked along side a half-naked raging fag, Rock Hudson, just a year or so before your ‘encounter’. Although I might say there’s probably a little pink in his blanket, Big Daddy sounds like a man who was not ‘light on his feet’, in fact, quite heavy handed like your story implied, which I found to be most intriguing. I think you’ve not only made a believer out of all of us in the room, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of us are going to start chasing after men like Sebastian Cabot – you’ve certainly piqued my curiosity about a kind of man I would have not previously considered and for that, I am indeed charmed.”

But it was another lady who might have had the best explanation: “did you ever consider the fact that although Big Daddy was a bit of a sex symbol in the 50’s, that Burl Ives in the 60’s was starting to get typecast too much in children’s and family shows to the point where the public was referring to him as asexual? If I were him, I’d want to prove to my collogues that I was a fully functioning sexual person with sexual needs and abilities. After a while, no matter what he said, chances are, his peers didn’t believe him until he found a way to show proof that he had a thriving sex life.” Maybe they were all correct. Maybe he was just another creep. Maybe he was someone really special. I do cherish those memories, and I still keep his private calling card with me in my purse all these years.

The End.

Copyright 2024 BrimleysBears

Feel free to share posts, however please copy only with permission, thanks, BB

Part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743973229412106240/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743962348439666688/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 3

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743868840199536640/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

Part 4

https://www.tumblr.com/brimleysbears/743867190420307968/featured-media-burl-ives-from-the-spiral-road?source=share

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Perfect Queen?

BRANDON STARK X READER

Summary- As the new queen and lady of Winterfell, you feel out of place. Thankfully, Bran reassures you of your position and loves you for who you are- not who you are trying to be.

A/N- I have not written for GoT in awhile, but HotD season 2 has sparked my interest again! Reminder that REQUEST ARE OPEN! <3

Requested by- @eualiabd @zamwnda

Word count- 1,612

You were barely a noble. The third daughter out of seven girls born into house Frey. Not a single male survived long enough to carry on the family name. What does a family full of women do? Marry off. So quickly that just after your ten and nine birthday, you were the only sister who was unwed.

Maybe being from a low house, and not having much experience with lordship- landed you as King Brandon Starks wife.

Of course, your mother was ecstatic when the king of all men, wanted to marry you. You had only known the previously named prince when he was a boy.

His father, Ned Stark, would visit on business to the Riverlands. Brandon always joined, eager to see you. Even after his fall, you were able to see him one last time before he disappeared for many years. You were devastated when you learnt of his 'death.' When he returned, you figured he forgot all about you. Though, a dozen knights showing up at your door, requesting you to meet with the King, changed your mind.

"A Stark never forgets an oath." Was his reasoning, suddenly a fond memory of Bran and you as children appeared. He, even at his young age, held your hand and swore on his name to marry you one day. To join your families.

At his now official and surprising marriage proposal, you quickly agreed. Any woman would be insane not to, feelings aside, you were helping the reputation of your house.

While your reunion with him was quick, it was satisfactory. He had changed with age and with his new responsibilities. As king and The Three Eyed Raven. Deep down, he was still the boy you loved. Even if he only showed it to you.

The cold air was refreshing, not stiff not muggy like you were used to. Though it took some time, you've learnt to grow fond of the snow and crisp feeling. A trip back to Brans home made you overjoyed. Even if Bran was only there on 'kingly' matters.

A large coat made of the finest furs rested up on your shoulders. A pin with the Stark emblem let all know you were the Queen. A title you were trying to get comfortable with. There were so many duties you were getting familiar with.

That wasn't hardly the worst part, however.

What irked you to no end, were the stares. Mostly women who were in court, or wives of men who frequented the castle. They had no room to speak, yet still murmured and gossiped to each other. The audacity to talk about the queen as they passed you. It shocked you that they were so informal.

You could never get close enough to hear, as Brandon had two Knights with you at all times. You understood the precaution, though your freedom was slightly limited.

"Bran, please tell me what they said..." You pleaded. It was evening, and the two of you were sat side by side for supper. Only separated by a corner of the table.

He looked up at you, face expressionless like it always was. "It is insignificant gossip."

You pushed your warm plate of food back, you were not interested anymore. "Not to me, it isn't."

Bran was fully aware of what they were thinking and saying. Just because he was All-Seeing, did not mean you also had to bear that burden. He would do everything he could to keep away the ill effects of his powers.

"Consider the matter finished." Was all he responded with, very 'Bran-like.'

However, the matter was not finished to you. With enough time, you knew you could get Bran to cave into you. He almost never told you 'no.' All he wanted was to keep you happy. He just did not see any reason to spread negative thoughts into your mind.

You pushed your chair back with a small screech. Taking a deep breath, you took one long stride to Bran's side.

Maybe you were trying to soften him up, you'd never tell, but you wrapped both hands around his forearm. Even crouching down to look up at him.

"I want to be a good queen. I want to fix whatever they chastised me for. Bran, you know I wont give until you tell me... Surely you know that?" You lightly moved your hand up and down his arm. He did know, he just wanted to do something his way for once. Deep within, he knew you'd get what you wanted. It was terribly hard to do anything that upset you.

He pursed his lips, giving out a sigh. "You are a good queen." He leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

With a puff you stood up, letting him go. "Obviously no one else thinks so." Your dramatic side got the best of you as you turned and left the dinning hall.

You allowed yourself to wallow in self pity, something you'd have time to regret later.

Your handmaid rushed behind you, eager to help whatever the problem was.

"I just don't understand why he won't tell me, Tamsin." You sulked on a padded chair while your handmaid gently took the ties and pins out of your hair.

She pressed a friendly hand to your shoulder, "He just wants to protect you."

You gave a half hearted smile, "I want to get better, I've never been a queen before..." You stood to let Tamsin being to unlace your corset.

You both heard a strong knock, assumingly from a member of the kings guard.

"The queen needs a moment to dress!" Tamsin called out, aware of a queens modesty.

A deep voice called back, "The King requests to see her Majesty."

Tamsin stopped with the laces and went to peek her head out. You couldn't hear what she was saying, but she quickly returned.

"Uh, Ma'am, the King is outside... waiting..." She was always a little nervous around Bran, you knew it was because of the Title and passiveness.

She fiddled with her fingers, "You are dismissed, thank you. Please let the King in." She responded with a light curtsy.

After Tamsin opened the door, you stood and watched as a knight pushed Bran in. The two of you were quickly left alone as Bran waved off the man.

You look down, trying to press your dress flat, slightly anxious.

Bran simply looked, the smallest smile present. "I apologize for upsetting you. It was not my intention." He says, his own hands resting still in his lap.

"I know..." You licked your lips, suddenly your mouth felt dry. At the following silence you started again, "Will you help me?" You gestured to your lace that was halfway tied on your back.

He nodded, "Of course."

He pushed himself over, getting closer to you. You turned your back to him, pulling your hair over your shoulders.

"Bran?" You quietly said as his gentle hands worked at your laces. An activity that was strangely intimate and peaceful.

"Yes, my love?" He responded, mindlessly. You let the dress fall from your frame. You stepped out of it, now only in a white slip.

You gnawed at your bottom lip, tears were threatening. "Please, just tell me if I become a better queen?" Your voice cracked up on the word 'queen', tears spilling over.

Hands came up to try and cover your sobs.

''I have a feeling you have been struggling with this for awhile..." Bran says, ushering you to spin around with his hands at your waist. He would never read your secret thoughts without your permission.

You weren't able to deny or agree, but you turned to look at him.

"I have seen, and you will become the most loving Queen the realm has ever known. You will be named for your care of the people." He said, pulling you down into a hug.

"Really?"

You fell further to your knees, leaning your head onto this lower chest. Bran pet your hair slowly, his other hand rested on your back.

"Have I ever lied to you?" You shook your head, still buried in him.

"Would you really like to know what those two women said?" He asked, a finger bringing your chin up. You nodded.

"They said your house was not high enough for you to become queen. They were sure that they would be better candidates." His face was stoic, clearly in disgust at what they said.

You sighed and rested your head down once again, arms crossed under your head. You looked out the side sadly, though starting to accept your position. There was nothing you could do about the house you were born into.

"You do know that I would rather die an old and lonely man than marry another? Right?" He pets your hair once again.

A smile arises on your face. "I couldn't think of a more handsome nor giving husband of you."

Without skipping a beat, he says, "Well, that's because I am king." His expression and tone is serious, but you laugh nonetheless.

It is soon clear that he was joking as well, as he breaks into a grin.

You sigh once more, this time happy. "Can we retire to bed now?" You ask, squeezing his hand.

"Whatever you so wish."

Sleep was moments from taking you, your eyes fighting to stay open. You were pressed up as close as possible to Bran, your head tucked under his chin.

"I meant what I said, earlier." Bran mentions, staring up. Without moving you speak, "About what?"

"That you're already a great queen." Your heart fills with flutters.

"Promise?"

"I swear it."

A/N- Not going to lie to y'all, I hate this one. But, I promised more Bran content! Please let me know if you have any ideas on how to improve! Thanks for reading, and thanks again for the support guys!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[torukmaktoskxawng]

'anla - part eight (finale)

Series Masterlist

Summary: Y/n and Ao'nung's future is revealed as Pandora is thrown into war.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Fluff, romance, mentions of mating, implied sexual content, injury, mentions of birth, mentions of death, etc. (I'd considered NSFW but for only, like, three or four paragraphs)

posted on ao3

Word Count: 6k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, tsurak - skimwing, Sänrr Rong - Glow Tunnel, marui - house/pod, nga yawne lu oer - I love you, kuru/tswin - queue braid, tsaheylu - the bond, ilu - plesiosaur like animal, ma muntxate - my mate/spouse/wife, olo'eyktan - clan leader, tsahik - spiritual leader, sa'sem - parents, ikran - mountain banshee, pa'li - horse like animal, olo'eykte - female clan leader, ma'txe'lan - my heart, tulkun - whale like animal

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @bangtanxberm @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie @heart-an0n @iloveavatar @urdads-gf  @kentfisherswifee6 @sakurayuki8655-blog @ken-zah @nilrilie @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @iovemoonyy @sopluto @frvv

A/N: As my first attempt at writing for Avatar comes to a close, I want to thank everyone on ao3 and tumblr for the breathtaking support for this series! I could not have continued without your love for this fic and it only makes me want to write more for this fandom and for you!

THREE YEARS LATER...

The war against the Sky People ended up spreading across all of Pandora. More clans got involved and the Na'vi grew in numbers, rallying to the call of Toruk Makto. Jake was a soldier by heart, and he knew, deep in his gut, that this war would be his last, win or lose, and hopefully, it would be the last defense against the Sky People once and for all. He was determined to make this world clean, free of war, and with a future far brighter for his remaining children. Although, they weren't considered children anymore.

Jake Sully, as a soldier, knew that wars could drag on for years, and his own war was no exception. In order to secure a future for his children, he had to sacrifice watching said children grow up right out from under his nose.

Y/n and Lo'ak were quick to grow up. Blink and you would have missed it. After Neteyam was killed, they assumed the role of older siblings and didn't hesitate to take charge and take responsibility in the upcoming battles. Jake found it difficult to accept them as warriors and send them off to fight so soon after Neteyam, but he didn't have much of a choice. He needed every able-body out there, and by Na'vi law, his oldest daughter and son were fully grown and of the People.

It didn't help that Ao'nung and Tsireya were now in the picture and the Sully family now extended to them. Jake nearly felt blindsided that the very children he had known since birth fell in love with the son and daughter of the Metkayina clan leaders. After discovering Ao'nung and Y/n's courtship, Jake helplessly watched as Lo'ak quickly completed his Iknimaya and began to court Tsireya as well. Jake was relieved to see that both Ao'nung and Y/n waited on becoming mates, but they had waited for a different reason entirely. If it weren't for the war, they would have done so much sooner.

The Sky People didn't wait as long to retaliate against the Na'vi like they did last time. The humans fought back without giving the Metkayina much room to breathe, so in favor of fighting back, everything was put on hold, including Y/n's courtship with Ao'nung. Toruk Makto had hoped that they would wait until the end of the war, but as he said before, wars sometimes last years, and even Jake knew that war sometimes brought people closer together just as often as it drove them apart. The clans scattered around Pandora were no exception. 

Other Na'vi clans, even the more violent ones, were starting to answer Jake's call to war, agreeing to many peace treaties in exchange for eradicating the Sky People once and for all. While Jake was elsewhere, rallying other clans at his disposal, the Metkayina had a brief window of peace while waiting for reinforcements, and many took advantage of this time to be with their loved ones before war forced them apart once more. 

Ao'nung and Y/n were among those who took advantage of this. Slipping away and into the night, they grab their tsurak and take off. Ao'nung brings her to Sänrr Rong with the promise of surprising his love. The Glow Tunnel greets her favorite guests with the same beautiful, bioluminescent archway... but there was a new sight that Y/n had never seen before. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp at the sight of a small raft with a marui built on top, floating beneath the arch, rocking steadily along the small waves caused by their approach. It was simple but elegant, the mouth of the pod leading out to a small, wooden lookout. To avoid floating away, the top of the marui was tied up against the wall of the tunnel.

Ao'nung watched Y/n's reaction with a proud grin, "I made it myself."

"It is beautiful," she whispered breathlessly, "Thoughtful."

The tsurak swam up to the marui and waited until their riders had pushed themselves up onto the platform before swimming away. Ao'nung and Y/n both stood on the floating platform, craning their necks to look up at the very top of the archway, marveling at the ceiling of glowing algae all around them. They could have stayed that way for hours, Ao'nung standing behind Y/n, arms wrapped steadily around her as they continued to enjoy their small little haven, no war at the moment to speak of, just them and their Sänrr Rong.

"Ao'nung."

"Hm?"

"I am done waiting."

He tilted his head back down to the young woman in his arms, her siren eyes already waiting for him there. She didn't miss the small glimmer of hope in his eyes that he forced himself to stomp down as he gently moved her until she fully faced him, his hands now resting on either side of her head. He made her look directly at him, but she wouldn't have fought it. She would gladly look at him forever if she had a choice. His eyes flicked over her gaze, trying to spot any sign of doubt or hesitancy,

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answered without wasting a moment between breaths, leaning into his hands, "I want you to be mine and I want to be yours. For life."

His smile is unlike any other, so bright and joyful as if she had just given him the world. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, whispering into her skin, "I have always been yours... even when I didn't know it."

"I know," a faint smile etched into her lips, leaning into his kiss, "But I'm done holding back for the sake of war and our families. We've been courting for years now. Please don't make me wait any longer."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he chuckles under his breath, guiding the both of them to kneel across from each other on the wooden platform. Keeping his hands on her face, he quickly lands a soft kiss on her lips, "Nga yawne lu oer."

"I love you, too," she whispered, heart hammering in her chest like it never had before.

"Say the word, Forest Girl, and I'm yours."

"Please."

She whimpered quietly when he leaned away but the excitement took over when he had reached back to pull his kuru braid from over his shoulder. Y/n did so as well, reaching out for him with her free hand. She let out a breathy laugh when Ao'nung took it a step further and used his free arm to lift her up into his lap, pulling her flush against him as if they were already one soul. But it wasn't enough. Y/n squirmed at the thought of being even closer, more than they'd ever been before. With their queues in hand, they both held their breath as the tswin slowly began to entangle with each other, and the reactions they made when the tendrils completely tied together were instantaneous. 

Y/n tilted her head up as the air left her lungs, overcome by this new feeling, able to sense Ao'nung everywhere in her mind and body. His torso, pressed tightly against hers, expanded harshly when he breathed out, and through their bond, Y/n was able to feel his arousal when his nose detected her scent. She instinctively clung to him at the thought, her excitement spreading out through their new bond as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck. Ao'nung's hands slide up her whole spine, driving her to arch her back, goosebumps prickling her skin under his touch like electricity. When she finally leaned down to kiss him, the electricity came together in sparks. 

Before she knew it, Y/n was on her back, Ao'nung's weight pressed comfortably between her legs. Comforting and enticing. That is what she felt with his weight on hers, pressing her down against the wooden platform of the floating raft, all her senses filled with Ao'nung and nothing but him. It made her feel complete, whole again for the first time in her entire life. It was both overwhelming and not enough, and Ao'nung could feel that through their shared bond. He fitted himself over her, letting her wrap both of her arms and legs around him until there wasn't even room for air between their bodies. Pleasure began to spike through her when Ao'nung began to touch her, her womb warm with love and anticipation, tightening like a spring as their conjoined bodies began to rock in motion with the waves beneath their raft.

She wasn't sure when she had closed her eyes, but upon opening them again, she could see why Ao'nung hadn't brought her inside the marui for this. On her back, as they made love, she was able to watch the glowing algae twinkle down at her from the ceiling of the archway with awe. That, along with the pleasure Ao'nung brought her, his head buried in her neck, muffling his moans, Y/n felt as though she was floating over clouds, ascending into the equivalent of heaven. Wave after wave of pleasure, coming and receding, edging her to several gently, toe-curling climaxes. 

It may not have been before Eywa or any Spirit Tree most couples would become one under, but here-- in the place they truly fell in love and spent a great deal of time together, it just made sense. This was their place after all. When Ao'nung finally met her in ecstasy, finishing inside her, it was both dizzying and perfect all at once. Hearing her name fall from his lips as they both peaked, Y/n was nearly brought to tears with the amount of love she had for this man. She was excited to spend the rest of her life with him.

They continued to lay there in the afterglow, still connected through the bond, too exhausted to move or have Ao'nung pull out. Y/n knew she wouldn't be able to take his weight forever, but as of right now, she was comfy, and the pleasant sounds he made in her neck when her fingers combed through his hair were just as enticing as tsaheylu. 

"I wish we had done this sooner." She sighed, mourning all the time they could have been truly together without a care in the world.

"I'm not," Ao'nung plants a kiss on a sensitive part in the juncture of her neck, forming goosebumps wherever he touched her, "It may not have been as perfect as it is now if we had mated sooner."

"That is true," her arms tighten around his back, "It was worth the wait."

He brings his head up to hover over hers, her heart stuttering in her chest when her eyes meet his. Ao'nung smiled similarly to when they were younger and just starting to become friends. He smiled like when he first approached her on ilu, inviting her to see Sänrr Rong for the first time. He looked so young again. It wasn't as though a lot of time had passed and they were old, no, but war ages people far more than time could. As children of war, Ao'nung and Y/n were no exception. They had a few scars here and there, and as time and war dragged on, they were given more warrior tattoos to signify their valiant deeds, both along their faces and bodies. They were all grown up, old enough to notice the difference between now and when they first met on that beach several years ago.

Ao'nung leaned down again, placing several kisses all along her face, "Ma muntxate. Ma Y/n."

He whispered those words like confessions-- like he was testing them out on his tongue for the first time and he liked how they sounded. Her eyelashes fluttered while she basked in his attention, equally delighted by her new name as he continued to bathe her in kisses and confessions, "I cannot wait to spend our futures together."

She hums thoughtfully, her mind reverting to realistic goals and expectations, "I suppose we should discuss plans for our future. In case we survive the war."

"When we survive, Forest Girl. When."

"Alright. When we survive," her fingers trace one of his face tattoos, staring down at his lips, "Tell me what you want."

"I think I would like to build a different marui for us, and I want to stay there even when I am olo'eyktan."

"Hm." This request surprised her, "Your father's home is not to your liking?"

"It's in the center of the village. I never liked it there," he hid his face back in her neck, grumbling to himself, "I like it a lot less now at the idea of having to share you with the whole clan."

She snorts quietly, "No need for that. The clan would be better off having your sister as their tsahik than me."

"If that is what you want."

"It is."

"Alright, but I still want a separate marui. My sister can have our sa'sem's when she is tsahik. I know she wants a large family, so it's perfect for her future."

"And what about us? What kind of family do we want?"

Ao'nung hums in thought, "I chose what we should do for our home. You can choose what kind of family shall live in it."

Y/n taps her chin while staring up at the ceiling of the glowing archway, "I don't want a big family. Just one or two babies."

"Could I convince you for three?" He playfully nipped her neck, grinning to himself when a laugh was forced out of her lungs.

Her laugh reverted to soft hums while her hands resumed running through his hair, "Three. And no more than that."

~~~~~~~~~

Once they returned to the village the following afternoon, they were shocked to learn that Lo'ak and Tsireya had wasted no time in mating as well. The entire clan was overjoyed to learn that Tonowari and Ronal's two oldest children had found happiness during this small window of calm before the storm. Neytiri cried out of joy for her children while Kiri and Spider gave their siblings shit-eating grins when they noticed a few teeth marks on the two new couples. Tuk and Kailani just gagged at how sappy their older siblings looked.

When Jake returned to the Metkayina with an army, he found out his eldest daughter and son had found mates. It was like someone had completely tilted Pandora's axis right underneath his feet. Before Toruk Makto could even get used to the idea, he now had a son and a daughter-in-law. The Sullys' bond with the Metkayina had never been stronger.

While Y/n and Lo'ak had found partners, Kiri was focused on becoming the best healer, and Spider was more determined to make himself an active member of the family every day, never again accepting himself as just a stray cat. As for Tuk, the baby of the family, Jake and Neytiri's youngest... well, she had only just begun to start hunting both on land and at sea. And before Jake could manage to wrap his head around that, the Sky People quickly returned, so he didn't have time to think. Instead, he acted, refusing to run again in the hopes of saving his family. This time, his family stood its ground and fought right alongside him.

Like before, the Na'vi still managed to draw the Sky People back to Bridgehead by just the skin of their teeth, and there was a brief window for the respective clans to grieve for their loss and take their small window of peace before the next war made itself known. Everyone knew that the biggest threat was yet to come, and they would need to recruit more Na'vi. Jake wasn't going to take any chances this time, not when he had more to lose.

Not only were his children growing up and marrying off, but they had begun to start families of their own. After the most recent battle, Y/n had found out she was expecting. The Metkayina took this small moment of peace to celebrate the tsahik's and olo'eyktan's first grandchild, overjoyed by Eywa's gift for their recent victory against the Sky People. Neytiri laughed even as she was holding Jake back from trying to kill Ao'nung, joyful tears in her eyes at the realization that her first baby girl was going to have a baby of her own soon. While Jake entrusted both Spider and Lo'ak to give Ao'nung a stern talking to, he took a moment to let the news sink in, still surprised that he was going to be a grandfather.

Even with a baby on the way, Y/n wasn't deterred from fighting. There was still a fire in her eyes that would only grow larger as time went on. Y/n had a reason to fight the Sky People. At first, it was to avenge her twin brother, knowing that Quaritch and Wainfleet were still out there after Spider confessed to saving his biological father. The monsters responsible for Neteyam's death were still alive, and Y/n wanted to fix that. And now, the idea of a child on the way only drove her further to fight, wanting to win this war quickly so that her baby had a future. While Jake wanted to order his daughter to stand down, now more than ever, Neytiri convinced him not to. Both she and Ronal are living proof that it is not hard for pregnant Na'vi to fight and Jake had to remember that Y/n wasn't human and it wouldn't be much of a struggle. Jake only gave in when he saw that same fire in his daughter ignite in his wife's matching eyes. Neytiri was just as determined to fight, if not more. Her husband could see, even with Neteyam gone, that she now had more things worth fighting for.

Even while pregnant, Y/n was still one of the best warriors Jake had on his side. She was still one of the best flyers and best archers, just like her mother. While she wasn't stupid enough to do up close combat in her condition, Y/n still fought her battles from afar, astride her faithful ikran, Evi, and a bow in hand. She flew over every battlefield, whether on land or by sea, her watchful eyes always pinpointing her loved ones out among all the fighting. Y/n tended to fly close to wherever Payakan might be, knowing that Lo'ak would never leave his Spirit Brother vulnerable during the fight. Y/n made sure to always have her little brother's back so that he may protect Payakan, shooting down any sky demon who dared to try killing Lo'ak whenever his back was turned.

Sometimes, depending on where they were on the battlefield, Spider would fly with his sister over the years as the war dragged on. He was a skilled archer as well, and so he often flew with Y/n to scope out dangers from above, since he wasn't entirely capable of fighting for the Na'vi without his own pa'li or tsurak. And if Spider wasn't flying with Y/n, he was flying with Kiri, keeping his best friend safe when she wasn't much of a fighter. Jake was always at peace knowing Kiri would be safe as long as Spider was with her.

Wars came and went, and victories and losses on both sides happened, but Jake believed he got the best victory of all when he got to hold his granddaughter for the first time. Y/n and Ao'nung named her Sìla immediately after she was born instead of waiting to announce it to the rest of the village. They didn't have much of a choice, as the village had been compromised after the latest battle, and unfortunately, everyone needed to evacuate. But after they had all made it to safety, Jake had the honor of being the first to hold Sìla in his arms with the exception of her parents. She was Metkayina, through and through, but even newly born, Jake could see hints of eyebrow hair and an extra finger on each hand, hidden by the infant's clenched fists, physical traits that she no doubt inherited from her mother and her grandfather. Despite forgoing tradition, the clans rejoiced at the first signs of new life in the midst of war.

But Sìla would be the only one born into war. Not long after her birth, her parents and all the other Na'vi managed to eradicate the rest of the Sky People before they could fly back to Earth or call for reinforcements. Again, Jake wasn't taking any chances. With his granddaughter now born, he was just as determined to ensure that the Sky People never returned... for good this time.

With peace finally reaching all corners of Pandora, the Sully family continued to grow. Lo'ak and Tsireya were now expecting a child, and Tuk was now old enough to choose a mate if she so wished. Neither Kiri nor Spider appeared interested in growing families of their own, but Jake was fine with that if that meant he could still have some of his own children to himself. Sìla had only just started to swim and walk on her own when Ao'nung and Y/n announced they were expecting again, and the celebration outweighed the upcoming sadness. Tonowari was heavily wounded in the final battle against the Sky People and was slowly succumbing to his injuries. He had let go and joined Eywa in his sleep after he was told more grandchildren were on the way. Knowing he was at peace, the Metkayina celebrated his life instead of grieving over him, thankful for the legacy he left behind.

Ao'nung was olo'eyktan now, but Y/n had agreed with Ronal that even as his mate, she wouldn't become tsahik. Y/n never wanted that role, even when it was hers for the taking as a child of the Omatikaya. She was not a healer. She was a fighter, so Tsireya would assume that role once Ronal was ready to step down or if she passed away, and Y/n would be known as the clan's olo'eykte. No one questioned the decision, but they were happy for the family's strength in position and legacy, nevertheless.

Speaking of the Omatikaya, Kiri returned to her family's clan after the war and took the role of tsahik at the behest of her dying grandmother. Mo'at was a force to be reckoned with, even in death, so no one questioned her succession, not even Tarsem. Neytiri, Tuk, and Spider also flew back to the Forest with Kiri and stayed until Mo'at had passed. They told her all of their stories as she closed her eyes, smiling as if she were sleeping. She had outlived so many loved ones. She outlived a daughter, a mate, a grandson, and many other friends and family. She had lived long enough to become a great-grandmother, and so when she passed away in her daughter's arms, Neytiri did not cry. Instead, she was incredibly grateful that someone in her life finally managed to live until old age.

When Kiri assumed the role of tsahik, Neytiri decided to stay. She had been separated from her clan for far too long, and she belonged in the forest. She was finally ready to come home. Spider also stayed with the Omatikaya and actually became a teacher for the children of the Na'vi. Grace Augustine's legacy lived on not only through her daughter but through Norm, Max, and all remaining humans who lived on Pandora. Above all, her legacy lived on through a boy who didn't even know her but grew up wanting to teach the Na'vi all that he learned living in two different worlds, worlds that Grace had wanted to share with the children when she was alive.

Tuk decided not to stay with the Omatikaya but didn't travel back to Awa'atlu alone. With the war now over, plenty of clans wished to mix and mingle with one another. So when Tuk returned to the Metkayina, she brought back not only her childhood friend Popiti but at least a dozen Omatikaya warriors who wished to learn the ways of their reef brothers and sisters.

Ao'nung and Tsireya -Ronal had stepped down from tsahik while Tuk was away- gladly welcomed the Omatikaya and Jake watched as Lo'ak and Y/n reunited with old friends and new faces from their mother's village. Even though he wanted to catch up with the warriors from his clan, he didn't want to wait any longer himself. Toruk Makto was anxious to join his wife, daughter, and son back in the Forest, but he wanted to stay long enough to ensure the children who would remain with the Metkayina would be in good hands. Even if they were no longer children, he couldn't help it. He was still their father and even though not all children stay close to their parents, he still wanted to be sure they were loved and cared for before he had to leave them.

Jake found it difficult to regret missing out on so much of his children's lives because of the war, knowing that he would do it all over again if it meant they would get the chance to have a future. He was content knowing that he fought a war so his children would never have to in the future. Instead, they'll get to live their lives and raise their children without the fear of leaving them behind to fight, or worse, lose a child to war as Jake and Neytiri did.

Neteyam was on his father's mind now more than ever, especially as Jake held his first grandson in his arms. He had waited to leave Awa'atlu until after Y/n had given birth again, now honored to meet the first boy in the family's next generation. So far, Lo'ak and Y/n's respective families have only had two girls between them, so the village rejoiced at the birth of the olo'eyktan's first son. Y/n named the baby boy Nokteyam and the meaning behind that name wasn't lost on anyone, especially not on Jake. Tears welled up in his eyes while staring down at Nokteyam, sleeping peacefully in his grandfather's arms. He didn't have a single physical human trait and strangely, he didn't inherit any Metkayina features either. Nokteyam looked exactly like a forest child with all the correct Na'vi fingers, toes, and tail. It only made Jake's heart clench even tighter when he realized Nokteyam looked like his own firstborn son.

When Jake had asked, Y/n firmly stated that she would not be calling her son 'Teyam as a nickname. She claimed she wanted to honor her dead brother's name, not haunt her son by it. No, Y/n named her son Nokteyam but called him Nok for short, so that he'd grow up with his own identity and not the ghost of his uncle's, a young man whom he never had the pleasure of meeting.

Sìla wasn't happy at the idea of being a big sister, mainly because she was barely old enough to grasp the idea of it. But throughout the first week of Nok being in this world, she grew to love her little brother and positively beamed whenever someone told her she was the best big sister. Once Y/n and Ao'nung had settled into the life of parenting a toddler and a newborn, Jake flew back to the Forest, his heart heavy to leave three of his children behind, but was also excited to reunite with his wife and his two adoptive children, along with the Omatikaya.

The Sullys have been divided, but that didn't mean they weren't sticking together. Lo'ak, Y/n, and Tuk were closer than ever, living among the Metkayina, while Jake, Neytiri, Kiri, and Spider worked together to oversee the future of the Omatikaya. Not one Sully was left alone, and that gave Jake some comfort. They all kept in touch and often flew to each other's villages when given the chance. During one of these visits, Y/n told her parents that she was pregnant again, but when she eventually gave birth, neither Jake nor Neytiri was with her this time, oceans away and unaware that they were grandparents again.

Instead of having the three children they agreed upon, Y/n and Ao'nung end up having four, because the third child turned out to be twins. Having twins was inevitable as it had never skipped a generation. First, it was Jake and Tommy, then Neteyam and Y/n... now it was Tawnu and Nangi, both boys and both sporting a healthy mixture of human, forest, and reef features.

Despite having more children than she initially wanted, Y/n could not be happier. However, she was slightly terrified of the idea of having the same amount of children her parents did before losing Neteyam and adopting Spider. What if she made the same mistakes her sa'sem did? This is what she was trying to avoid when she first told Ao'nung she only wanted two babies, worried that she might accidentally favor one child over another, or worse put too much burden and responsibility on one of their shoulders. Ao'nung wasn't worried, however, vocally adamant that his wife was strong and she always learned from her mother and father's mistakes. She was already the best mother in the world just by worrying she'd mess up. The Na'vi only ever want what's best for their children, and Y/n and Ao'nung were no exceptions.

From the beginning, they had both agreed to expose the children to forest and reef life, both mother and father teaching the next generation what they had been taught in their separate, respective clans. While Ao'nung worried about teaching the children to swim from infancy, Y/n made sure her children knew what it felt like to fly.

It was one of her favorite activities to spend time with her children. Only risking to take them one at a time, Y/n would strap one baby to her chest and take her ikran out for a long flight around the island. She did this with all of her children, but never all at once.

Ao'nung also loved when Y/n took one of their children to the skies, but not for the same reason. He enjoyed spending quality time with the remaining three children while his wife was away with the fourth. Like his father before him, Ao'nung was a great and mighty leader, often intimidating by size alone. But to his children, he spoke soft and gently, never raising his voice unless it was to be heard.

The olo'eyktan found himself sitting on the beach, his legs stretched out in the sand with Nangi sitting between them. The baby, only old enough to sit up and nothing else, was playing, in awe of the sand and shells his father provided for him to inspect. Meanwhile, Ao'nung was keeping a watchful eye on Sìla and Nok as they chased one another into the water, never going any deeper than above their waists. Their laughs and squeals of joy can be heard echoing in the winds as they travel through Awa'atlu. Despite the high pitch, it was a peaceful sound and one of Ao'nung's favorites that he liked to replay in his head. He tried to retain as many good memories as possible, still occasionally caught up in the bad ones. While he loved his children always asking him questions, it was always hard to answer why he had a large, wide scar on his right leg.

It was hard enough that Ao'nung barely remembered what happened himself. It happened early on in the war against the Sky People. Lo'ak, younger at the time, told Ao'nung when he woke up from the battle that a sky demon had emptied an assault rifle into his leg. Ao'nung had lost a lot of blood, and at the time, there were Ronal, Kiri, and Mo'at all hard at work, trying to keep him alive and save his leg. Ao'nung couldn't remember the pain or the event leading up to getting injured, but he remembered being in and out of consciousness throughout the whole ordeal, and the faint memory of Y/n screaming and crying his name still haunts him to this day. Y/n, who was heavily pregnant with Sìla at the time, was bargaining with Eywa, pleading for the Great Mother to spare the father of her unborn child and how she didn't deserve to lose anyone else she loved. Whether it was the tag team of tsahiks or Y/n's prayers, Ao'nung had miraculously survived, and he had fully healed just in time to be there for his mate when she went into labor.

Ao'nung tries to remember the birth of his first and only daughter over the memory of his injury, and sometimes he prefers telling Sìla the story of her birth over the time he nearly died. He doesn't mind the scars, but the memories behind them are terrifying. His children make them better -they make everything better- by admiring the scars and talking about how brave their father is. They like the scars. Like the songcord, scars tell the children of Na'vi a story, and it makes Ao'nung filled with pride.

His thoughts are interrupted by the familiar screech of an ikran. Looking up with a smile, he sees Evi, the light blue banshee with gold lightning running up her figure, flying up ahead. Life is a little funny and ironic as Ao'nung fondly thinks. 'Funny that the first time he ever met Evi, she was nearly ready to eat him, and ironic how her rider would someday become his mate. Whenever he told that story to his children, they had yet to believe him.

The chief of the Metkayina doesn't get up from the sand and watches the ikran circle him before promptly landing on the sand a couple of yards away. Only then when the banshee landed did Sìla and Nok notice the beast as well and squealed with excitement, running over to Evi like she was a long-lost family pet. Ao'nung fondly smiled as he watched the ikran rider dismount and cling tightly to the bundle strapped against her chest. Y/n now stood as tall as her mother used to be, still sporting the braided hair and beads, but now wore clothing more appropriate for a leading member of the Metkayina. Like Ao'nung, she was nearly covered in tattoos, other than her chin where the tsahik symbol would've been if she hadn't let Tsireya take on the role. Otherwise, most of Y/n's tattoos symbolized a warrior and a high-standing figure among the villagers; as their olo'eykte. Ao'nung still felt pride whenever he saw the akula tooth carved to look like an arrowhead, resting just above his mate's heart and now woven into her chest piece.

Y/n had bent down to gather Sìla and Nok in her arms when they ran up to greet her but was careful not to squish the baby still sleeping at her breast. Standing up, Y/n carefully adjusted Tawnu to rest comfortably against her collar before she grabbed Sìla and Nok's hands, walking with them along the beach, heading in the direction of the olo'eyktan and Little Nangi.

When they were close enough, Ao'nung called out, "Did Evi get to stretch her wings?"

Y/n smiles with a shrug, "Enough to last the old girl another week before she insists I take her again."

The Na'vi woman sits down beside Ao'nung in the sand, leaning heavily against his side, knowing that he'd gladly take her weight, his arm sliding around her waist to hold her close. Ao'nung paid no attention to Y/n's tail loosely wrapping around his own waist and instead busied himself with trading twins, setting Nangi down on Y/n's lap before helping Y/n with taking Tawnu out of his sling. Ao'nung lets Tawnu continue sleeping in the crook of his other arm while Y/n gathers Nangi in hers, cooing to the baby boy and making him laugh when she riddled his little chubby face with kisses.

Once the parents were settled, Sìla took this opportunity of happiness to plead with big, blue eyes and a pouty lip, wrapping her little arms around Y/n's, "Can I go again, Mama?"

Evi squawks in the background, likely offended that she's now the family's show pony in her old age, while Y/n smiles sweetly and leans her forehead into her daughter's, "You have to wait your turn, ma'txe'lan. It will be Nangi's turn next time, then I promise I will take you."

Sìla whined but otherwise didn't complain, distracted by Nok when he pinched her and ran off. The chief's daughter runs after him, vowing for revenge in their own twisted game of tag while their parents watch on in adoration.

Ao'nung briefly looks up to the sky, "The winds are getting warmer. The tulkun should be returning soon."

"Hm," Y/n replies while looking down at Nangi. Apparently, he had followed in his twin's footsteps and fell asleep, "I'm sure they will be very happy to meet the twins for the first time."

"I will be very happy to introduce them to my Spirit Brother," Ao'nung turns his head to his wife, "When do you think Sìla can meet your brother?"

Y/n's resulting smile was soft and kind, but Ao'nung knew better than anyone the level of sadness behind it. Even as she had aged and small wrinkles had started to form around her lips, she still looked like the young girl who had lost her other half as if it was only yesterday. She looks off over the waves and out into the vast ocean, thinking back to all the times she had visited the Spirit Tree over the years. As promised, she only visited Neteyam on special occasions. She visited when each of their siblings finished their Iknimaya or when Lo'ak and Tsireya were officially betrothed, when the Na'vi had won the war, and when Y/n found out each time she was pregnant. She had started to visit less and less, far too busy as a wife and a mother, just as Neteyam had hoped for, but she'll still go to see him when her children go through big and meaningful milestones, always excited to share them with her twin brother.

The children have yet to learn about Neteyam, their parents believing they are still far too young. Nok knows his name stems from someone important to his mama, but that is the extent of his knowledge. Soon, however, Sìla will be old enough to knowingly connect to the Spirit Tree all by herself, unlike her first communion with Eywa. When that time comes, Ao'nung and Y/n will sit her down and tell her the story of her Uncle Neteyam.

It will break Y/n's heart when Sìla asks if they meant Uncle Lo'ak or Spider, but Y/n will correct her daughter and tell her that she actually has a third uncle. Both her mother and father will tell Sìla stories of a young boy she had never met, a boy who never got to grow up alongside his friends and siblings... A boy who loved his family deeply and would have loved Sìla and her brothers even more, he would've hung the world for them if he were still alive.

Y/n's heart will always ache to know that Neteyam was robbed of being someone's husband and father, whoever those poor souls might have been. Her heart ached to know he would never get to be olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya or meet each and every one of his nieces and nephews until they were all old enough to go to him themselves. However, her heart has been healing for some time instead of breaking, and like Neteyam said she would, Y/n has managed to balance her sadness with her happiness, missing her brother just as much as she loved her mate and her kids.

She leans further into Ao'nung's shoulder, watching two of her children play in the water while the remaining two slept safely in their parents' arms, "Soon."

Her husband hums quietly, turning his head until it's half buried in her hair, whispering his response in a kiss he placed on the top of her head, "Nga yawne lu oer, Forest Girl."

"Nga yawne lu oer, Seaweed Brain."

Sìla: derived from "hope"

Nokteyam: Nok (a man's name in Na'vi) and Neteyam "not the end"

Tawnu: derived from "sky"

Nangi: derived from "surprise"

Even though I'm finishing up this series, I think I still want to write about it. I plan on writing about missing scenes that weren't initially written in the series, like Ao'nung's injury and in-depth reactions to Y/n's pregnancies. So stay tuned for that! If you have a request for me to write about a certain topic for this series, please don't be afraid to ask! (I'm also not opposed to writing 'what-if' scenarios like "what if Neteyam survived and watched his twin sister's family grow?")

Thanks again everyone!

[ekkotimesthree]

RE: Homestuck Discourse, Media Literacy, Fandom Entitlement, & The Puppet Theory

an essay by yours truly

content warning: discussions of child abuse, CSA, & child neglect

so many discourses and debates surrounding homestuck boil down to lacking basic media literacy. so instead of making a petulant rant, i’ll attempt writing a productive essay, but forgive me if my annoyance seeps into parts of this post due to the subject matter. let’s start with dave, since he’s one of the most contentious characters (also because he’s my blorbo, sorry not sorry), and move on from there!

i constantly see people say something along the lines of “davekat happening in the retcon timeline makes no sense why would terezi ignore dave and gamzee yada yada yada”, like there’s not a whole scene that explains this! and it’s one of the most plot relevant scenes in the comic!! if you don’t know what the blood scarf even is, your opinion on this irrelevant, since you didn’t read/remember the text. rule number one of media literacy is properly consuming the media.

“dave being abused and the gay stuff came out of nowhere” this is definitively not true. one of the first things we learn about dave is that he has to hide food in his room so he doesn’t starve, and that this is an intentional choice by his brother. oh, and then his brother actually beats the shit out of him on screen, while not letting him abscond, right after we see john and rose strife their parents in a healthy way no less. (take note of bro using cal, and dave trying to abscond from him. more on that later.)

and re: dave’s sexuality, rose immediately points out that dave is probably gay during their first on screen interaction, and it’s her first line of dialogue to him.

TT: In some cultures the persistent refusal of a lady's invitation to play a game with her would be a sign wanton disrespect.

TT: Either that, or flagrant homosexuality.

moving on, later that same day, dave outright admits he loves john:

in these scenes, rose would be considered a mouthpiece! author’s use mouthpieces to get across information to the audience, that the character(s) themsel(ves) don’t know. in this case, that character is dave.

so now let’s address the elephant in the room, you probably thought these messages were just jokes, and that’s okay! that’s for three reasons:

first, your worldviews and perspectives shift the way you perceive the world, and more specifically art in this instance. that’s a fundamental part of the human experience. having your own personal biases based on your life experiences isn’t inherently a bad thing! for example, if you finish my essay, you can learn more about compulsive heterosexuality, or the effects of child abuse, see all of the signs, all without having to deal with it first hand. which is great! that’s the point of art and storytelling.

secondly, you probably still thought dave was straight while reading this narration. that’s because homestuck is written in deep pov, or as you would probably call it, unreliable narration. these are technically two separate things, but i don’t feel like breaking down all of those pedantics. all you need to know is: deep pov is when a character’s worldviews and perspective shift the narrative, rather than a story being told objectively. think junie b jones, the percy jackson series, or uh, catcher in the rye, if you’re into that sort of thing. that means that all the dialogue and narration within homestuck will always have some level of subtext, aka the non-literal explanation for text. homestuck is made by adults for adults, so it’s created on the basis we can analyze the text, and come to our own conclusions, unlike YA and children’s media.

a lot of people assume homestuck is supposed to be YA series, but that’s not the case. homestuck’s themes are about exploring the effects of child abuse and neglect, which you need to be an adult to fully understand. and unlike cinderella, homestuck shows child abuse on screen, and as we’ll discuss later, tackles subject matter about CSA, or child s*x*al *ss*lt. that inherently makes it a 18+ story, no matter the ages of any characters involved. just because most of us read homestuck as kids doesn’t really have any impact on that.

“well there’s no explicitly 18+ content in homestuck!!! they’re all 13!!!!” please take one look at equius’s room, or translate damara’s dialogue, and tell me if you still feel that way. oh, and read the epilogues too. also do you not remember the sheer amount of bloodshed, sex jokes, and cursing shown without a single censor??? even the official homestuck twitter said this:

finally, it’s also worth mentioning the time homestuck was made, because art can’t be removed from it’s historical context. so in 2009, gay representation was still virtually non-existent, especially in children’s and teen media. in the 2000s there was an extremely prevalent trope, “queer people are funny”, where the whole joke is that a character doing something that could be perceived as gay, or transgender, is funny. this problem was especially rampant in media for men. the most infamous example of this is family guy this was s8e18 of family guy, “quagmire’s dad”, where the whole joke is that brian slept with a trans woman, and everyone single joke comes at the expense of the trans woman, who’s relegated to a background role, while the narrative focuses on quagmire and brian’s emotions, the two cis men. so what homestuck is doing is called a deconstruction of this trope! deconstruction is where you break something down to critically analyze the philosophy behind it. we’ll leave a pin in john for now (just you wait), but it’s made extremely clear that dave is struggling with internalized homophobia, thus deconstructing why he makes these jokes in the first place. by the end of homestuck, dave says:

DAVE: but ive had a fuck ton of time on my hands to think about stuff. about stuff ive said and done in the past why i said and did them. a lot of things i once would have insisted were like part of my brand and helped me come across cool and smartassy, but now im not so sure. we used rip on each other all the time for being gay even though we knew we werent which of course is what made it "funny" remember?

with this quote, and the knowledge that dave goes onto date a man, i don’t think anyone is denying the internalized homophobia now, so let’s move onto reading this:

i’m sure all of us are thinking “there’s no heterosexual explanation for this, he doesn’t even like ben stiller!” OR “maybe dave’s just too embarrassed to admit he likes shitty movies? is it really more than that??” either way, that’s because hussie utilitized the rule of three to make you subconsciously notice dave’s obsession with irony! the rule of three is used to set patterns in a story, either to establish a fact, or to subvert the viewer’s expectations. for example, let’s analyze this joke:

notice how terezi’s third response is the funny one?by setting up the pattern, both you and john are expecting her to keep laughing in response, so when terezi flips the script on him, it’s hilarious. that’s called payoff, or in this instance, comedic payoff. now we can compare that to dave’s irony, where it was mentioned three times on one panel. no subversions of expectations here! that’s because hussie wants to establish dave’s obsession with irony, and they did so by creating a pattern you would notice subconsciously. this is how the rule of three works! psychology is cool, right?

so now that we can all agree that the subtext here is related to the irony, we have a new problem: we’ve only gotten dave and rose’s perspectives. we still need one more to complete the rule of three. fuck. thank god i can skip ahead!

using my whimsical ability to read ahead analyze text, i find out what john said to dave, and leave out the unimportant bullshit for everyone’s sake (mostly mine though):

dear dave, happy birthday!!! (…) i got you these. they're totally authentic! they actually touched ben stiller's weird, sort of gaunt face at some point. i'm sure you'll dig them because i know you lolled so hard at that movie. ok so for real, this is sort of a shitty present, but it is an ironic present because i know you wouldn't have it any other way. maybe you can wear them ironically some time. they MIGHT even be more ironic than you and your bro's dumb pointy anime shades.

now we have three characters’ perspectives on dave’s behavior. you’re probably able to put together the pieces i’m putting down, but for those who aren’t getting it: when you compare john’s letter, with dave’s actions, and rose’s messages, you realize that: dave is keeping these glasses because he loves john, not because he likes ben stiller, but he can’t admit that to himself, hence why his narration overcompensates with the usage of irony! it’s worth noting that all of these examples are from dave’s pov, because switching to rose or john’s pov would no longer make them mouthpieces!

“okay but isn’t dave’s perspective not reliable either??” yes! that’s why we’re using his actions as textual evidence, not his statements. the fact dave kept these glasses, and hung up a picture of an actor he doesn’t even like, is the proof he loves john, not him saying outright that he loves him. like i said earlier, this is a comic intended for adults, so characters aren’t going to outright say themes or how they feel. that’s more for peppa pig, hannah montana, and riverdale, you feel me? just like in real life, talk is fucking cheap here.

so now we’re left with a new question: why does dave feel comfortable admitting his love for john to rose, but not john himself? i’m sure the answer is becoming obvious! putting all this together we can gather the following: hussie wants us to know that dave possibly has a crush on john, but definitely loves him.

wait a minute… possibly?!? that’s because we still need textual evidence dave likes men. luckily, like i mentioned earlier, we can skip ahead to the epilogues, where him and karkat get together in the meat timeline, thus proving dave has liked men this whole time. boom! that’s payoff!!!

now we can OFFICIALLY put together that dave had a crush on john. once again, notice how we’re using dave’s actions to prove this, and not just quotes! either way, now we have officially used media analysis to deduce that dave had a childhood crush on john! huzzah! pat yourself on the back my loyal reader.

and for those who still aren’t convinced of dave’s crush on john, this masterpost has way more evidence than i ever could fit in this post.

(trigger warning: csa)

so now with everything we’ve learned about media analysis, i present you with my own analysis: the puppets are a symbolism for abuse, and the sex puppets specifically are an allegory for CSA, or child s*xual ass*ult. symbolism is where you use a certain object to represent ideas or qualities. the best example of this is the iconic green house logo we see throughout the comic. in comparison, an allegory is when a certain object or plot device is used to get a point across, without directly stating the point itself, aka, a hidden meaning. for instance, hussie has said their game “pyscholonials” is an allegory for how they feel about their gender identity!

so now, let’s start finding textual evidence to back up my claims about the puppet allegory, through looking for textual evidence of dave’s symptoms, aka analyzing character psychology:

dave’s anxiety manifests in the way he types. according to healthline “rambling or excessive talking [is a sign of] social anxiety. you fear saying the wrong thing or being judged by others, but you end up talking more (…) in an effort to help make up for your anxiety, and help quiet the worries revolving around what others think of you”. this is basically dave’s whole personality, but more specifically, you can see him doing this around the puppets in this scene, he rambles to himself non stop when returning to his childhood bedroom, and he’s still doing so on the meteor when he can’t find terezi to do “some stuff”. by the end of the comic, dave even acknowledges this himself by saying: “DAVE: yo im hardly one to talk here since i am a goddamn geyser of hilariously self-pulverizing freudian bloopers”. it’s also worth mentioning that, generally speaking, dave also spams his friends a lot until he gets a response, implying he gets anxious when people don’t respond quick enough to him, which is a normal reaction after being neglected as a child. that’s called a trauma response! all of these bullet points are trauma responses that happen to people who had to deal with CSA. in this case, the trauma response would be dave’s anxiety in general, and not him spamming his friends specifically. moving along…

dave’s hypersexuality manifests in a pretty in a pretty straightforward way, hence him constantly making s*xual jokes, and him drawing dicks on stuff on the meteor, much to the annoyance of everyone else. terezi even points this out herself while dave is failing to grieve bro:

TG: im sorry you are so flustered by the mere mention of glittering mythical cryptodick it honestly makes me think youre not ready for the truth

GC: D4V3 YOUR P3RPL3XING 3UPH3MISMS INVOLVING WHAT I PR3SUM3 TO B3 L3WD 4ND VAGU3LY INTRIGUING PORTIONS OF HUMAN 4N4TOMY 1 THINK 4R3 NOT 4S HILARIOUS 4S YOU PROBABLY B3L13V3

his dissociation is also pretty straightforward. he constantly talks about himself in the third person, and treats himself like he’s a character in a story, rather than a person who has wants and needs. for reference, dave immediately pulls meta shenanigans when you meet him, foreshadowing his dissociation. you can tell it’s built up to an already toxic level when we meet him, because on the same day, he has almost no reaction to seeing his own corpse, and immediately disposes of it “for jade’s sake”, rather than his own. and to make matters worse, he immediately “moves on” as if nothing happened. deep pov, remember? he also couldn’t properly process bro’s death. once again, terezi tries to point this out to dave, and he’s still not getting the message. put a pin in this section for now.

near the end of the comic, davepetasprite outright says that davesprite was depressed, regularly talked about how he wanted to off himself, and implies he might of attempted it. this is a grey area since davesprite is technically a separate character, and grieving the death of everyone from his original timeline, but it feels weird to just ignore it. to each their own on this point, but i would assume davepetasprite was referring to dave’s whole life when they talked about him being depressed based on wording, and his terrible childhood, but the s**cidal stuff could go either way. again, the proof here is dave/davesprite’s actions, not davepetasprite’s quote itself.

he displays regressive behavior 24/7 by wearing his shades to avoid eye contact, refusing to participate in common social cues (i.e.: constant dick jokes), and the few times we see him get upset, he shuts down rather than feeling his emotions. not so fun fact, the only time dave cries in all of homestuck is because of onions being cut in front of him. there’s an allegory in this scene, can you find it? (hint: the dragons forced dave into the soup, but he refuses to get out of it) also, in his most emotional scene, he still tries his damndest to not talk about emotional stuff with dirk, and still doesn’t cry when they hug, despite discussing bro’s death, and his thoughts on his own abuse in detail:

the lack of self esteem is pretty apparent. he constantly over compensates at the beginning of the comic, as seen below. he always talks about himself as if he’s a famous important guy, despite that all of his friends know he’s lying, and regularly say it to his face, but he’s still adamant that they’re wrong, or commits to the bit without actually admitting the truth. i wanna note that dave’s humor is always more of a commit to the bit and keep it going sort of thing, for better… or usually worse. not full on sarcasm. this is opposed to rose and john’s teenaged douchebaggery mixed with flagrant sarcasm. also, in the aforementioned scene above, davepetasprite still refers to davesprite as a piece of garbage, showing this is something dave struggles with even while being combined with nepeta. again, we’re using the action of putting himself down, not the quote itself. (also, sorry for the image quality, i’m on mobile)

in the long term, it’s basically impossible for him to form long lasting, fulfilling, and romantic relationships. first, it’s his crush on john, but that’s just kids being kids stuff. there’s also the fact dave and rose had some sort of failed relationship in davesprite’s timeline, due to them not learning they’re siblings. then we see the serious problems arise with terezi, who he dates pre-retcon mostly just cause she’s there, and his weird definitely not gay rivalry with karkat, which leads to her being unfulfilled in their relationship, and starting a kismesistude with gamzee. obviously the jade stuff is a big wooooof (pun NOT intended), both with davesprite, and the candy timeline. ultimately, both times, dave only dates jade because he feels bad for not liking her back, which leads to the relationship falling apart both times. remember the pin in dissociation? that’s what he’s doing here. karkat would be the opposite of jade. dave doesn’t let himself date karkat because dave hates himself, and more specifically, his attraction to men, which i’ll elaborate on later. this is what we call a character foil, aka two characters who have similarities so you can contrast their differences. think naruto and sasuke, or uh, deku and bakugo i guess? how do you do fellow kids? actually yeah! cause jade is green, and karkat is red blooded, which would symbolize how dave sees karkat as the “wrong” choice, while jade is the “right” one. the colors green and red are opposites, but jade and karkat are both of dave’s love interests in the epilogues. see? character foils! symbolism! personally, i refer to this as “star wars logic”, cause the good guys have green lightsabers, and the bad guys have red ones. this is definitely intentional, seeing as homestuck is littered with star wars references, like how HIC is basically just darth vader. meenah is also definitely a reference to darth maul, just look at her double sided weapon, or how they both die before getting to their respective thrones. i could keep going but it’s not really relevant to the discussion.

so right now you might be thinking “well you still didn’t explain how dave got assaulted tho”, and that’s fair. however, i wanna remind you that showing children porn against their will is 100% a form of CSA, same with sex paraphernalia, and especially forcing sex paraphernalia onto them. to do that to a child non-stop, in an environment they can’t escape, would have horrid effects psychologically, and dave displays almost every one of them, as you saw with the textual evidence above. so when dave can’t admit to himself that he he hates bro’s puppets, and more specifically the sex ones, it’s because doing so would force him to admit: a) what bro did to him was wrong & b) that he enjoyed it in some aspect. john even points out how weird bro’s affinity for puppets is weird and definitively not cool, which causes dave to immediately shut him down hardcore (more allegory).

speaking from experience, one of the worst parts of CSA is that you have no clue what’s going on. victims of assault often blame themselves, or feel guilty of what happened, and children lack the ability to tell what’s fully going on in the first place, due to their brains being underdeveloped, thus amplifying the guilt and blame. people often worry so much about the “man tricking kids with candy” because it’s the most pervasive p****ph*le you see in media (god i hate true crime culture), that people forget that 84% of csa happens in the home, 50% of the time it’s someone the child trusts, and 40% of time it’s family members specifically. even if 99% of your experience is terrible, you’ll still find a way to blame yourself for the 1% until you can properly process that you didn’t do anything wrong. this is what’s referred to as the “the myth of the perfect victim”.

i know this is “personal speculation”, but to me, it seems very apparent that dave is gay, and can’t come to terms with it because of his CSA trauma, hence his inability to just admit to himself he has a crush on john. every girl he dates in the main comic is quite literally the ONLY dateable girl in front of him, or usually the only girl in front of him at all, and all three girls have crushes on him/flirt with him WAY before he starts their relationships. and once again, he only dates jade in the epilogues due to his own guilt and dissociation, combined with her doing everything short of forcing herself onto him. compulsive heterosexuality is a major part of homestuck. for instance, hussie has confirmed via author’s notes that rose had a crush on dave when they were kids, and that something happened between them when they never learned they were siblings on davesprite’s timeline, yet hussie has also said that rose is a full on lesbian. that’s comphet, and it’s very intentional!

i also wanna take a moment to acknowledge that dave and rose are 100% nods to luke skywalker and princess leia, who also kiss before finding out they’re related. notice how dave fights with swords, like a lightsaber, and has the same hair as luke. meanwhile, rose’s seer of light powers are basically the same as leia’s force powers, and she uses most of her weapons as blasters, just like leia. i don’t think hussie was trying to be weird or add this stuff in for any unsavory reasons, like some people imply. there’s a reason all of this extremely vague, and not shown on screen. put a pin in that.

so in the same way the katanas in dave’s fridge symbolize bro prioritizing preparing dave for battle over what he actually needs (food and shelter), that’s how the puppets symbolize dave’s CSA. now, if you read dave and rose’s conversation about the sex puppets with that knowledge, it starts to paint the harrowing picture (again, allegory). it’s important to remember that rose had a canonically had a crush on dave at the time during this conversation, so she was probably just negging him the same way she negs her mom. she was upset because she knew that dave liked john, and probably was just gay in general, so he was never going to like her back. she’s definitely projecting her gayness (and love of puppets) onto dave too. again, all of this is definitely comphet lesbian behavior. all that’s to say, i’m not claiming she’s intentionally victim blaming him or anything during this scene. she’s just as much of a child as he is. put a pin in that too! i got sited sources coming, but i can only put so many goddamn words and images in a single post.

so, i see the sentiment shared a lot that hussie just tacked on the abuse stuff at the end, and that the beginning of homestuck “was just a silly comic at the beginning it’s not that deep”. that is an objectively ill informed take, and now you know why! the entirety of homestuck’s themes are exploring the effects of child abuse and neglect, hence the name, home stuck. there’s a reason the protagonist who is able to save everyone, also has a seemingly perfect home life. notably, the only other character who’s a completely well adjusted nice person is nepeta. she’s also the only character who’s able to free roam as she pleases, has a loving lusus, and ironically, is the only character without a home/hive to begin with. once she makes into the game, her land is quite literally her cup of tea as well. these definitely aren’t coincidences. i hope your allegory alarms are going off right now!

the only reason homestuck is sillier in the beginning is solely because it was a fan lead project for the first few acts. back in the day, there were forums dedicated for audience input to decide what happens next in the story. fun fact: this is how a lot the characters names were decided as well! so there’s a reoccurring bit where (insert beta kid) does (something stupid) and then the plot just moves on (i.e. john’s HILARIOUS antics). those were the silly suggestions sent in by the fan community! that was back when the homestuck community was still pretty small, all things considered. this explains the wonky pacing in the first few acts, and the more comedic tone.

moving on, the reason the puppets and the katana fridge are used as symbols, is because yeah, the tone would be way too dark if they played that straight. however, there’s another reason that’s way more important. remember how homestuck is written with a deep pov, aka unreliable narration? (please don’t kill me pedantics police!!!) hussie uses deep pov to display how homestuck chacters see their parents/lusii, in order to convey the themes of the story. stick around a bit longer and i’ll explain the theme of homestuck! just let me explain something real quick, so you get the big picture.

bro is shown in a positive zany light because that’s how dave sees him. to dave, bro is his whacky older brother, and sure he’s a little out there, but ninja battles and puppets are sick as fuck, right? well we as the audience know that’s NOT the case. again, dave is literally starved on screen, and gets the shit beaten out of him, also on screen. this parallels rose’s relationship with her mom, who gives her everything she could ever want and need, but doesn’t fulfill rose’s emotional needs, so rose sees her as a some sort of spiteful cartoon villain. dave even calls this out the second he sees all the wizard stuff rose got from her mom.

meanwhile, you can see rose admit to liking the puppets here, and she says she’s a fan of bro’s pornbot websites as well.

ultimately, they both want what each other has, but aren’t really able to fully grasp why their own parents did what they did, much less each other’s parents, which leads to them both envying the toxic part of each other’s households. i’m sure you’re starting to see the big picture with the puppets now, so to send the point home, remember that image i showed you during dave and bro’s strife? well, bro is attacking dave with a puppet, and dave wants to abscond, but can’t, perfectly paralleling dave’s abuse to a puppet. furthermore, that’s why he’s surrounded by sex puppets specifically, and they’re all throughout his apartment. it’s all symbolism for how dave is trapped in home dealing with CSA.

this is the purpose of allegory, telling you something without directly showing it. i doubt any of us think homestuck would be better if this stuff was depicted literally, for all the obvious reasons. i’ll close out with this dialogue since it shows what i mean better than i ever could myself:

DAVE: why did i get such a raw cut of the asshole deck? and why did it take me so long to figure that out? and like hes dead now so thats that. so all thats left to do is look back and try to put the pieces together of my first 13 years, and all i can think is what the fuck WAS that?!

DAVE: i dont come away with the impression i used to try convincing myself of, that he was like "mysterious" or "stern" or "aloof". the only feeling left is this insane impression that i was raised by somebody who fuckin HATED me, and the whole act of even "raising a child" was some totally fucked up game to him.

DIRK: What… did he do?

DAVE: i dont want to get out the laundry list, but for reference laundry wasnt one of those things. that was just one of the many little domestic things i just had to sort of FIGURE OUT. sorta like i eventually had to learn what the REAL purpose of a refridgerator was from movies.

DIRK: Wait. What???

DAVE: i dunno theres too much to even get into. just- i dont remember the atmosphere ever not being nerve wracking. all havin to sneak around and... ugh my shitty childhood spider senses are tinglin just thinking about it.

DAVE: it was "training" you know?

DAVE: but you know what it really was, it was some vicious shit that was bad and sucked and i hated it

DAVE: it didnt make me stronger

DAVE: it did the opposite

DAVE: it made me never want to fight

DAVE: it made me never want to see blood or be near danger or hear metal sounds

DAVE: it made me hate the idea of being a hero cause he was a hero and he ruined the idea of heroism

(…)

DAVE: i know how it sounds but i am NOT joking and there is NO shred of doubt in my mind that he loved all those puppets more than me

so uh, this essay is already long enough, and you definitely want me to just say the theme by now, so let’s explain the rest of this allegory in optional bullet points that you should definitely still read.

rose liking the puppets is symbolism for how emotionally neglected children often end up subconsciously “wanting” terrible things to them, like abuse or self harm, so they can justify their own unhappiness with their lives, due to them not understanding that their emotional needs aren’t being fufilled. again, the myth of the perfect victim, starting during childhood specifically. rose does this by convincing herself that her mom hates her, rather than seeing that her mom is trying her best to parent, and failing miserably. rose is also unaware of her mother’s alcoholism, which symbolizes how she doesn’t understand that her mother is emotionally neglecting her. this parallels how dave is seemingly caught off guard by dirk’s sexuality, and thus bro’s sexuality, due to dave not processing that his abuse is sexual in nature.

jade’s love of plushies parallels dave’s love, and eventual hatred, for puppets. (once again, notice the red vs green. character foils!) this is because her neglect causes her to become extremely immature. when she’s a kid, this mostly just manifests as her liking children’s toys, and speaking with a childish affectation. however, this immaturity goes unchecked, leading to the epilogues, where she completely ruins dave and karkat’s relationship for her own sexual desires (paraphrasing). you could say the same for her secretly getting rose pregnant in hs^2, knowing kanaya will be upset when she finds out. basically, she has a huge emotional disregard for everyone around her, which stems from her almost complete isolation for most of her childhood. once again, emotional neglect leading to regression, more specifically maturity regression in her case, which makes sense when you remember she grew up raised by an actual dog. and interestingly, dogs have low emotional intelligence compared to other animals. jade herself becomes part dog while going godtier, right as she has to go into further isolation during the three year journey. dogtier symbolism! jadesprite also throws a tantrum when she’s created, right after being combined with a dog. more symbolism!

dirk loving cal is an allegory how he can’t let go of his own self abuse, which becomes extremely literal when he cuts his head off. something something symbolism. this is also foreshadowing his eventual role as the villain of the story once he achieves his ultimate self, and begins thrusting abuse onto others. after going ult, dirk ends up pushing jane into presidency, thus allowing a troll genocide to happen. it’s also worth mentioning jane r*pes jake in the epilogues, and while knowing this, dirk still supports her because he believes “the ends justify the means” during all of this. now he’s officially just as bad as bro at this point. i also wanna point out that this, once again, this makes dirk a huge foil to dave, with both of them helping their respective presidential picks to win the election. i believe this is hinting that dave will eventually be the one to defeat dirk, thus finally not letting his bro have power over him, or anyone else for that matter. remember how dave is a reference to luke skywalker? well the main villain of homestuck^2 is his father figure from another timeline/universe, so at this point, it seems like dave will have to be the one to do the killing blow on dirk, the same way luke did to vader. only time will tell. pun intended bitch. also, dirk’s shade of orange is right in between dave’s, and the yellow bloods, possibly symbolizing how dirk is doomed by the narrative just like sollux, mituna, and the Ψiioniic, combined with his own self abuse.

roxy has seemingly no affinity or hatred for puppets, dolls, or plushes, foreshadowing her failed assassination attempt on the batterwitch, and her short lived alcoholism. however, she does still have a pile of cat and wizard plushes in her room. roxy is probably the third most well adjusted character in all of homestuck, and had a pretty nice childhood all things considered! obviously it wasn’t perfect though, hence the short bout of alcoholism. all that fits into my puppet theory pretty well, implying that roxy made it to the end of her game due to her lack of alcoholism, unlike her alpha self, but just like rose. her shade of pink being the middle ground of dave and rose’s makes sense as well.

on davesprite’s timeline, his sprite prototypes with cal, and one of the birds who never left his apartment, symbolizing how he was unable to escape the trauma of his abuse and homelife. also another easter egg! crows are the smartest bird, and one of the smartest animals in the animal kingdom. this is symbolizing how dave is actually the smartest member of his session, which makes sense due to the sheer amount of math he does for his sylladex, despite bro not bothering with his homeschooling. this is why davesprite’s wings are clipped, to symbolize how his neglect and abuse ultimately made him worse off, rather than “being the air beneath his wings”. actual dave notably fights with a clipped sword, can you guess what that symbolizes? (hint: bro clipped the sword)

john interestingly fits into this as well, due to him receiving a harlequin doll for his birthday, and it later prototyping his kernelsprite. john hates clowns, and is the main character, which interestingly foils gamzee, who loves all things clown, and is relegated to a joke background character. let’s just put another pin in john and gamzee for now! i promise it will pay off.

but most importantly, lord english is the referred to as “the 8ig 8ad” by vriska (not a coincidence! think about spidermom!!!), and lil cal himself is referred to as the “most important character in homestuck”. notably, lord english is also the mind behind lil cal. this symbolizes how abuse is a central theme of homestuck, and the last trial the characters must overcome. that’s why rose stops drinking after the retcon, and why dave starts… doing something with karkat?

so there’s a huge elephant in the room! if we’re discussing davekat, we have to to mention the contentious reveal scene, don’t we? forgive me, but we have to address all the little nuances of this. so uh, remember dave’s anxious speaking habit we’ve established? well he starts blabbering when karkat immediately brings up his old black feelings for john, most likely implying he’s a little jealous/insecure about that. this is pretty normal, cause he’s still teenager at the end of the day. you can see it specifically in these two lines:

DAVE: so are you SURE you still dont have these unreconciled blackrom feelings about john

DAVE: i say we air this out before it ferments into some rank and hella unexamined feeling sauce

see? remember what i said about dave having trauma responses? this is it. he’s just anxious karkat might still like john, thus ruining their relationship, or uh, situationship at the time. he also might be projecting his romantic attraction to john onto karkat as well. then, he rambles a bunch of incoherent bullshit when john asks what his sexuality is. karkat is extremely embarrassed by this part of the conversation, yet he was able to calmly discuss his old crush on john. so this all comes to a head with the following dialogue:

JOHN: did you... like, date any boys?

DAVE: uh

JOHN: but there weren't even that many boys on the meteor? well, there's the clown guy, but i don't really see you and him... that really only leaves... um, were you and karkat... ARE you and karkat, like. hmm.

this makes karkat officially loses it due to embarrassment, but i’ll spare you from that huge wall of text. next dialogue reads:

JOHN: dave, i'm pretty sure we're making karkat uncomfortable now.

DAVE: yeah maybe we should drop this

JOHN: ok.

so lets think. they aren’t dating, but they definitely did something kinda gay. notably, this parallels the “things” dave did with terezi pre-retcon, while still being tastefully vague. the idea that dave did some gay teenager shenanigans actually does make sense for his character arc, because it implies he’s comfortable enough now to try something like that now. though i do wanna emphasize that i’m not try to explicitly say they had sex, i’m just saying dave explored his sexuality. come to the conclusions you’re comfortable with here! hussie goes out of their way to not display or mention characters doing any sex acts while they are minors, and this is the closest we ever get to anything like that. there’s only one instance of making out even happening in homestuck, and it’s just jake making out with his avatar poster. well, unless you wanna count this i guess? considering everything we’ve gone over in this post, this is most definitely intentional.

through john’s retcons, the butterfly effect forces the dave and rose to address their respective childhood traumas, which leads to them being able to beat the game. same with davepetasprite finally giving jade the closure she needed right before she woke up. same with terezi fixing her relationship with vriska. karkat runs for president later, proving he’s got over his leadership trauma as well. that’s how you win sburb. john saving everyone with that retcon shows the central theme of homestuck: you can change at any point, and get through any hard times, as long as you have people in your life to help and support you. the retcon is great because it shows you how a timeline is doomed, so that way you can understand why they won.

EB: well to be honest, i never really believed any of your guys's doom and gloom nonsense. not because i think you are lying... i just feel like there must still be a way to win! (…) also, there is always hope for someone who has good friends to count on!

so when dave and karkat start getting together, and do “stuff” on the meteor, that’s all the tasteful way of saying: dave was able to process things, and become more comfortable with himself. again, this totally could’ve just been making out, come to the conclusions you want. the vagueness is intentional.

notably, vriska, dirk, jake, gamzee, and jane are the only surviving characters to not address their trauma at all by the ending, which leads into their current arcs in homestuck^2 (or lack thereof in gamzee’s case). there’s also one more character, who we’ve carefully left pins in until now….

it’s time to address june egbert. spare the torches and pitchforks please! i’ve done a ridiculous amount of research, and there still doesn’t seem to be a proper explanation for june egbert from either a homestuck fan or a creator behind homestuck, so i’ll bare the cross of this explanation. from here on out, i’ll still say both names interchangeably for pedantic reasons, but that’s solely because this is still in a weird state of schrödinger’s canon, and hs^2 is pretty much it’s own thing in itself. but i’m a trans woman so w/e. once again, spare the pitchforks! please!

the reason why her being trans works is because john/june spent the whole series so focused on saving everyone else, that she never focused on herself, or thought too deeply about anything. that’s kind of her thing, taking everything at face value, and not thinking too deeply about herself (i wonder why… ♾️). this is even pointed out by dave himself during The Davekat Scene™:

DAVE: ok i guess what im saying is… i dont think its all as simple as you think it is, or maybe not like ACTIVELY think it is but continue to assume it is on account of NOT thinkin about it much, due to a lot of junk about the subject that gets shoved into our brains from movies and stuff while we were just dumb kids

JOHN: i,

JOHN: hm.

so you see the set up here right? the character who i was referring to, who still hadn’t processed their childhood? it’s important to realize that june/john has never actually had a character arc herself, because her story is told via the hero’s journey structure, not a typical three act story structure like almost every other character receives in their arcs. ever notice how homestuck is constantly compared to the odyssey or the iliad? that’s why! this all means, june/john is a plot motivated character, rather than a self motivated one, again, like almost the rest of the entire cast. it makes sense for her to have to start self introspection once the game is over, she never really had the chance to while saving everyone else. interestingly, vriska’s arc is told in the format of the hero’s journey as well. dave/davebot’s arc in the epilogues and hs^2 is also told in the format of the hero’s journey. he seems to be in between “woman as the temptress” (aka jade) and the “atonement” stage, which would most definitely be finally seeing karkat again, something hs^2 is still building up to. this makes sense for all three characters, seeing as being a “hero” plays huge parts of all of their respective storylines.

i also wanna bring up the clown stuff again, and more specifically, gamzee. even more specifically, this amazing analysis by @abcq2:

before murderstuck, gamzee has no idea that he is a clown. sure, he anoints his face with greasepaint, rides a unicycle, and juggles, but these are serious religious sacraments to him. and, sure, sometimes he trips on his giant floppy shoes and lands face first in a pie, but that's just being blessed with a miracle, because he was just thinking about pie. and, sure, sometimes his friends say things like "HEY ASSHOLE. CLOWN ASSHOLE. YOU WORSHIP A CLOWN RELIGXON. FOR CLOWNS." to him, but he's too zonked on sopor slime to extract any meaning from it. when gamzee sees the ICP miracles video, he's too sober to dismiss it as a mere coincidence; for once, he gets the joke, and realises that he was the butt of the joke the whole time. he understands that every time he fell face first in a pie, it was the work of an unsen riddler. he grasps that he is, in a cosmic sense, a clown, and hates it. (…) when the murder spree is over, gamzee's beatific grin returns; no longer a look of blank ignorance, but a knowing smirk. he's successfully ruined his character forever - no one wants to see him and no one thinks he's funny. hussie seems to say: jesus you are such a shitty clown. and gamzee's impassive face seems to say: i know. gamzee refuses to clown out of spite, and hussie refuses to remove gamzee from the story out of spite. it's a committed relationship of reciprocal, mutual antagonism. what i'm saying is that hussie and gamzee ar-

once again, all credit for this gamzee analysis goes to @abcq2, please check them out!!!

so i’ll cut straight to the chase, mostly due to me getting close to tumblr’s character limit. the clowns are an allegory/symbol of being transgender. it’s impossible to ignore. remember that game i told you about? psycholonials? if you’ve ever played it, you’d know that clowns and transgenderism are tied up together in one big scene. i won’t spoil the game, it’s really good! check it out! this parallels homestuck, where june has always been associated clowns. not a coincidence. once you fit gamzee into this equation, it’s clear that gamzee’s “clown” dysphoria is a stand in for gender dysphoria. read the analysis above one last time and tell me i’m wrong. hussie themself has only posted themself in clown makeup since 2020, this started exactly half a year before they unofficially came out as non-binary via a homestuck announcement. they also tweeted that they use any pronouns shortly afterwards, on a private (?) twitter account. it’s also worth mentioning that one of the few of photos of hussie that we have, they were in ICP/juggalo stuff just like gamzee, and this photo was taken in october of 2010, mere months after gamzee’s introduction, and possibly a month or less after act 5 act 1 was finished. if you know anything about this image, or tumblr user @dead12234352356456775, please message me! this blog is the earliest place the picture can be tracked to, and i’d love to ask OP if they know anything about this image. hussie has notably referred to themselves “clown gender” as well. it’s unclear to me whether hussie actually likes icp, or if this is one huge coming out ARG, but either way, clowns = trans, got it?

so when john/june have a clown sprite following her around, it’s an allegory for how the trans stuff is literally in her face, but she can’t understand it!

“but there’s no textual evidence of john wanting to be a girl!!” see, we’ve officially waded deep all the way into the murkey grey waters of nuance. so if you don’t know, june is the embodiment of what us trans women refer to as the “pre-egg crack”, aka, the phase before you realize you’re trans. this phrase applies to all trans people, but trans women use/identify with it the most, just cause we usually come out way later, usually around say, 20-23, like john/june is by the end of homestuck! huh, what a coincidence. in all seriousness, this is because most trans women start their transitions when they first live on their own. john/june’s also a computer scientist by hobby, something a lot of trans women do. this is because trans women are one of the smallest minority groups, so we usually have to go resort to online communities to talk to each other. this is also necessary for a lot of us, due to research on hrt not really being as advanced as it should be, and the fact transitioning is still illegal/hard to access in a lot of areas. trans women are also likely to stay inside on our computers cause yknow… dysphoria. plus computer jobs often have decent pay, low barrier to entry, and require little to no interaction with other people in person, making them perfect to both medically and socially transition. sure, june never outright says “i want to wear a dress” or laments about dysphoria, but again, homestuck is by adults for adults. the story shouldn’t have to explain something like this to you. the only reason you had the impression that there’s no evidence of john being trans is because you weren’t educated on the subject matter, but now you are!

“you’re just projecting onto this character!!!” and you are too! again, that’s how everyone engages with art. to think you don’t do the same yourself is foolish. utter poppycock even! however, i really despise this sentiment. the fact i’m a trans woman makes me the most qualified to speak on this subject, not the other way around. who are you to speak on the experiences of trans women? exactly. i’m tired of us trans women being berated for headcanoning characters as trans women, even when it’s extremely obvious why we do as such. it’s always the boils back down to the same bullshit in response: “well actually YOU’RE the transphobic one for saying all trans women look/act the same!!!” *sigh* that is literally the definition of an identity. you sound dumb, and are speaking over actual trans women, whose opinions are infinitely more important than yours when it comes to this subject. this is literally just the “what is a woman” debate repackaged with the guise of liberalism. it’s annoying.

“all this june stuff came out of nowhere!!!” this headcanon became prevalent during the pandemic, where tons of trans people were able to start their transitions! i did this myself, and so did hussie. doesn’t seem so random now, does it?

“hussie is just doing this for woke/fandom points!!!” uh, and what would they be gaining by making john trans? if this was about making money, wouldn’t the merch link on the official website work? hussie makes visual novels now, and has removed themselves from homestuck as much as feasibly possible, while still maintaining their ownership of the IP. not exactly the most lucrative career path. and if you’re implying hussie is adding any element to homestuck simply to please fans (yes, that includes davekat), you obviously know nothing about hussie. go on reddit, read ANY responses to the epilogues, or the plot of homestuck^2, and tell me when you find the tons of people happy with their contents. oh, and see how homestuck fans feel about kankri and cronus while you’re at it. i’ll wait.

“okay but the toblerone stuff is dumb!!!” at no point before the june wish did hussie say that finding a toblerone would give the finder the power to make a canon-altering wish. as you can see here, all of the wishes weren’t even granted, some of which have no impact on canon at all. if hussie wanted to, they were well within their rights to go “yeah no, this is dumb, sorry” when the wish for june egbert was sent in. this means that june egbert already fit into hussie’s idea of canon, and as i’ve already pointed out, june egbert has properly been foreshadowed, so this all adds up. the idea that hussie “turned john transgender because of a toblerone” is an exaggeration of events perpetuated by losers misguided and ill informed fans. hussie has been sent an insurmountable amount of headcanons over the years, and aysha u farah, who has had major involvement for multiple homestuck projects over the years, has said “the only headcanon i've ever seen andrew get excited about is june egbert” on a now defunct podcast called perfectly generic podcast. (forgive me, but any links to the specific episode i’m finding no longer work due to their official website no longer working. i’m not listening to hundreds of hours of an archived podcast for this minuscule of a clip. be my guest if you want to take that on! once again, message me, and i’ll update this section.)

either way, based on everything we know, june egbert is canon because hussie wanted this prior to the toblerone wish, because if the wish contradicted or retconned canon, it wouldn’t have been granted in the first place. simply put, june egbert is canon because it’s want hussie wanted to begin with, and the wish came after that. once again, the sheer amount of foreshadowing here should be more than enough proof, and if you want more even more proof of june egbert foreshadowing, check out this blog post! it’s great!

“well it’s dumbledore logic!!!!!!!!!” is it though? j.k. rowling is a transphobic bigot, who’s works cost money to access, who confirmed dumbledore was gay only after he died, and then she still straight-washed him in future harry potter media. hussie is an actual trans person, running an indie project, who wrote one of the longest literary works in the entire english language, made it all free to access, supports all fan archives, and hasn’t even ended homestuck^2, where john/june is very much alive. and once again, the wishes were to add something to post canon content specifically, without shifting the canon of the main series. homestuck^2 is still updating, and as far as we know now, more projects are on the way, like the completion of hs^2 and hiveswap. these situations have almost nothing in common aside from deriving from twitter. if you’re mad about this, were you mad when jake was confirmed to be brazilian in a youtube livestream comment? or when gamzee’s red crush on tavros was confirmed via a dubiously canon comic? probably not. eh, maybe you were actually, i don’t know you. either way, feel how you wanna feel about jake being brazilian, i don’t care, but you can’t say there was “nothing building up to june egbert” now that you’ve read this essay. the dumbledore comparison is dumb as hell.

“well i’m trans and i don’t feel represented by june!!!” if you’re “feeling unrepresented” by june, it’s probably just because you’re not a trans woman obsessed with computer science. that’s just you not relating to the character. it’s really not much deeper than that. and on that point…

“well i just don’t like this!!!” with all due respect, you seriously need to put thought into why that is. i can’t think of a single non-transphobic to be upset about a character transitioning in a story. and again, homestuck is one of the longest literary works in the entire language, and is completely free to access. in all of homestuck history, not a single product was sold under the guise that “john will be cisgender forever” or “dave will not end up with karkat” or “jake will never be brazilian”. hussie doesn’t owe anyone any part of their story’s canon. it’s their story, full stop, and if you’re mad about that, you’re entitled to something that was never yours to begin with. not all art is made purely for your consumption, and free art is especially not made for your consumption. can you critique it? absolutely. there’s a big difference between criticism and bashing though. if you don’t like any part of homestuck, write a fan fiction, make some fanart, or write an oddly soapboxy essay about your personal fan theories and headcanons. turn that negative energy to make something positive! i’m being serious! hussie themself encourages this!!!

“okay but it’s still lame the davekat stuff happened off screen” i can agree to a certain extent, but dave and karkat’s relationship plays a major part in the epilogues, as well as homestuck^2, and that’s not even unpacking their weird borderline black rom dynamics pre-retcon. to act as though their romance starts and stops during one intermission really downplays how seriously their relationship is taken throughout the homestuck series.

“okay but isn’t a lot of that stuff dubiously canon?” baby, everything is canon. hussie has said so themself. there are infinite possibilities for what could have happened during homestuck, so maybe we should just focus on the fact it’s taken seriously at all? honestly, the line between dubiously canon and actual canon is paper thin. homestuck^2’s entire plot is currently deconstructing what canon even means. if you wanna only see the main series as canon, be my guest, but the accusations of homophobia and queerbaiting over the davekat reveal are a little ridiculous. their relationship plays a major part in all homestuck content for years now. also, big reminder that, with the reveal of june egbert, there’s now only one canonically straight character from the main series, and she’s a villain now, so…

“well you’re just strawmanning me now!!!” my loyal reader, i understand you are a human being with infinite nuances i will never be able to understand, cause quite frankly, i have no clue who you are to begin with. i don’t think everyone who hates davekat or june egbert is some anti-lgbt bigot. i’m just here to set the record straight, and provide context for people who are willing to listen. a lot of this shit is confusing, and there’s misinformation a plenty out there. most people who are participating in this discussion clearly haven’t bothered reading homestuck for years at this point, possibly even a decade. and that’s fair, most of us read it as kids, and probably stopped by the final update, if not sooner. honestly, i think the main issue here is that people are playing the telephone game via fandom discourse. that’s how we went from “hussie supports june egbert” to “hussie made john being transgender canon cause of a candy bar” in the first place. if you’re participating in this discussion, maybe try rereading homestuck before you let your vague memories of reading the comic years ago define your current day opinions? besides, i’m not delusional enough to think any bigots are going to read this post and be convinced, but i’m sure i can open up the minds and eyes of people who are willing to listen! give homestuck a reread, imagine how much more foreshadowing has gone unnoticed over the years!

i feel the need to be so thorough, bust out so many references, break down every bit of nuance, and speak from my own experiences, because inevitably, a small group of people are gonna read this post and still go “it’s not that deep! they’re just puppets! june egbert is a bunch of sjw malarkey!!!”, and to those people, i hope you stop making fandom spaces miserable because you didn’t wanna pay attention in english class. media analysis is a necessary tool, and i’m sorry our education system here in america failed both you and i. (or maybe your a non-american country has english classes as terrible as ours? idk.)

honestly, i think i read like five or six books in throughout of all high school. i failed english my freshman year, and dropped out by my senior year. there’s always room to grow though! look at how i’m able to write this essay now! all you have to do is just watch some video essays that break down your favorite movies, tv shows, books, and more!!! there’s tons of jackasses like me who will lament about their hyperfixations. plus, now you already know what symbolism, the rule of three, and allegories are! before you know it YOU’LL be the one noticing all of the easter eggs in the media you enjoy, just like us the rest of us pretentious media analysis fuckheads.

i’m sure all of us are old enough to remember how exciting it was when rosemary was first confirmed, or when the dirkjake kiss happened, or all the recent stuff with davekat. and guess what, june egbert is going to be that lots of young trans women! after reading all of this, is hating june egbert the hill you’re gonna die on?

you know, hussie practically uses homestuck as their personal diary. i don’t think anyone’s denying that. it shouldn’t take a rocket scientist to understand why they want their main character to be trans, or why they wanted dave to end up with karkat. maybe you’re just not willing to understand it? if we’re allowed to project on to these characters, then why won’t you let hussie?

if you got to the bottom of this post, thanks for reading! i might turn this into a video essay if i’m being honest, but if you wanna repost this, or make your own response, please just credit me! also check out my homestuck fanworks if you like this post, i’m sure you’ll like them too!!! i don’t really have anything else to promote so uh…. if you’re on the homestuck^2 team and read this…pleasefortheloveofgodiwouldkilltoworkonanofficialhomestuckprojectidontevencarewhowhenwhenwhereorhowbutillsettleforanytjingpLEdareplelaplwlalsplelallaldle

in all seriousness, thanks for reading! i doubt this post will take off simply due to how long it is. i’d love to hear other people’s thoughts and opinions on this, or possibly make mutuals to yap with even! dear lord i miss having friends to talk about homestuck with. also sorry for the censors, normally i wouldn’t bother with something like that, but i’ve been working on this non-stop for the past few days, so i don’t wanna risk it being taken down.

anyways….. THAT’S why i have the bro strider tag muted 😭

(EDIT ON 9/15/24: added a new source i found and fixed some minor grammatical errors)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Just us

a/n: This is purely self indulgent because I saw Matt’s story and I’m so tired I will self comfort myself with this. Enjoy!

summery: You’re living with the boys and come back home after the longest day to find Matt in the studio. Watching him work had always been your favorite way to decompress. Being friends for years means it comes with extra perks, ones that make you question if you both are just friends after all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were barely standing on your feet as you finally dragged yourself home. The day you had had been excruciatingly long and screw day, the past couple of weeks you had has been insane. It felt as if you had been up on your legs, doing something at every given moment. There was little sleep too and now you had reached the level of tiredness where even if you were exhausted at the end of the day you still couldn’t fall asleep.

The familiar buzzing of the house managed to pull a smile from you as you kicked off your shoes. There were perks of not living alone. Especially on these long days like this. You knew that you at least wouldn’t have to worry about feeding yourself. And some chores that you just couldn’t push yourself to do, someone else might handle. Plus, you got to come back to a place that didn’t suffocate you with loneliness. That was one of the reasons Noah had offered you a place in the house. You had been friends with them for years so you all were pretty good at reading each other without words. So when handling studies, apparent, and part-time jobs with Bad Omens got hard, they jumped in offering you a lifeline.

“Look who is back”, Jolly nodded your way with a smile. “Got you your kombucha so you can get out of my hair now”, you lowered the grocery bag onto the counter. Three sets of hands instantly move to rummage through it. “You are all toddlers”, you snorted. “You usually bring cool shit back”, Noah shrugged, turning over a yogurt box. “Yeah, snacks for my children”, you shook your head, hand running over your shoulders. “Pasta for dinner”, Jolly moved his hand to rub your back, you turned to him knowing that it was his way of asking if everything was fine. So you gave him the best smile you could master, “All in, extras cheese for all my troubles”, you bowed dramatically before moving towards the stairs.

With a deep sigh, you made your way up. Stopping to drop off your blazer and jeans in your room. Frowning slightly at the lack of hoodies in your drawers. Well, there were plenty of them just… not the ones that called your name. So with only an oversized shirt on your body, you once again ventured into the hallway. You knew that not many people understood that but the sound of heavy music blasting from the end of a hallway instantly made you feel better.

You knew that it had to be Matt there considering that you haven’t seen him downstairs. He hated being interrupted when he worked. It was called Matt Sound Kingdom for a reason. You knew that you shouldn’t bother him, especially now that they had been working so hard on creating new music and how easily an interruption could defuse inspiration, yet you still carefully pushed down onto the door handle, pushing the door ajar just slightly.

And here he sat, cap on his head. All windows shut only the mood lights he preferred on, even if you fussed about it not being good for his eyes. Leaning your head on the frame you let your gaze just linger there. You loved watching all of them fully submerged in their element but it was always something about Matt doing his thing, getting all bossy that got you the most. Some people thought he was standoffish or cold at times but you knew better. He was passionate and that sometimes came with the price.

“I made it into your daydream”, his voice startled you, making you bang your head onto the door slightly. “Jesus, Matt”, you hissed, pressing your palm onto the sore spot. “It wasn’t me snooping around”, he threw you a look before pushing his chair back slightly as he turned to you. With an eye roll, you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. Not missing the way Matt’s eyes lingered on your bare legs. His jaw flexed as he licked his lips.

“So, you haven’t seen my shirt, have you”, he mused, making you look down as well. “Well, it was out of service for you”, you shoot him an innocent smile, turning to pull a chair out for yourself. “Don’t need that, come here”, Matt patted his thigh but something about sitting down on his lap with just a shirt and thong made you halt. You two were close. Fuck that, you shared beds on multiple occasions and it was never awkward. He was a total black cat. Not too big on physical touch, only when he was overstated for it did he slip into your room for a cuddle.

“Matt”, you muttered in a warning tone. “Y/n”, he shot back instantly, “Come here, I can tell that it was a shit day”. That completely threw you for the loops and you instantly felt the burning sensation in your eyes. “It was fine”, you tried to make it sound truthful enough. But Matt just shook his head, leaning forward. One hand grabbed the back of your thigh as he pulled you closer to him. Leaving you no choice but to straddle him. Now buried deep in the crook of your neck, with his scent all over you, you couldn’t help but let out the deepest sigh. One that had been pressing on you all day long.

“That sounded rough, do you want to talk about it or nah”, Matt asked, kissing the side of your head. You simply shook your head, not mustering enough energy to give him a proper answer. “Fine, but we are talking about it at some point”, he pointed out, pulling your legs tighter around himself before scooting the chair closer to his sound tech. “You mind if I continue this for a bit?”, it was sweet that he asked, considering that you were the one interrupting him. So you shook your head again, letting the heavy sound slowly drown out all the thoughts in your head.

That’s how you both stayed. Completely losing sense of time. With you lazily twirling the ends of his hair while he worked. And Matt whose hand slipped up and down your thighs, as he nodded along to the sound. Or drumming his fingers over your lower back as he searched for the right beat. You pulled back slightly after a while, wanting that up-close privilege of watching him once again.

“What?”, he muttered, catching your gaze. You just smiled at him, “I love seeing you like this”, you mussed, reaching to put his cap backward, so it wasn’t so much over his face. “Like what?”, his fingers reached out to carefully brush away the loose strands of hair away from your eyes. “Just being you”, you shrugged, “I know not many people step their foot here. I know I have a free pass”. Matt chuckled slightly, “Who told you that?”, “This guy called Matt, he’s really sweet”, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Is that so, you like him?”, your heart skipped a beat because you doubted that he knew just how much you liked him. “Yeah, I do”, you muttered, watching him watch you. “He likes you too”, Matt hummed. “How would you know?”, you shook your head. “He told me too, we had a conversation about you”, his eyes slowly crept onto your lips before he pulled his gaze back up to meet your eyes.

“Matt”, you muttered, you two had tiptoed the line multiple times. But both of you had always put the band first. You knew that the rest of the boys wouldn’t mind but work and love in one mix nearly always ended in tragedy. “Can I do something stupid?”, he asked, fingers slipping to hold onto your hips, slowly reaching beneath the hem of your shirt. “Not if I do it first”, you breathed, cupping the back of his neck as you leaned forward, brushing your lips over his. He chased the kiss almost instantly, pushing deeper into you. It was equally slow and passionate as it was messy. You felt a shiver run down your back as the realization slowly hit you, making you pull back.

“Shit, sorry”, you grunted, trying to wriggle out of his hands only to have him firmly holding you down. “And where do you think you’re running now?”, Matt mussed, licking his lips. “Don’t do that”, you huffed, pushing his face further away from you. “Do what?”, he churched, “Look so fucking kissable”, you whined, making Matt let out a full deep laugh. “I’ve been dreaming about kissing you ever since that New Year’s kiss”, he admitted, making your shoulders droop slightly, “No, you have not”.

He shot you a look, “Love, I practically sleep in your bed every night after that, how else do you want me to show it to you”, while that was true you never took it as a sign of anything more than him wanting a cuddle. “Start by taking me on a date”, you pointed at his chest. “That can be arranged”, Matt mussed, leaning in to kiss your lips once more. “And others?”, you pulled back watching him. “Considering that you are here in my shirt with only a thong…”, he stared but you quickly hit his chest playfully, “They already know, I think we were the last ones to catch up. We don’t have to tell anyone anything, though”, he reassured you, hosing you high onto his thighs. “Just us”, you muttered. “That’s all that matters for now, baby - just us”, Matt kissed your temple before reaching to pull your head back, a smirk forming onto his face as his lips met your neck.