#i constantly forget shes only a year old not even

[naferty]

It's been a minute, but I'm happy to say I wrote something stony! And avac stony to boot.

This was heavily inspired by an old BL manga I read many years ago.

~~~

Tony wouldn’t say his time in Avengers Academy was bad. He wouldn’t say it was good either. As the son of a SHIELD agent and a HYDRA double agent, it was hard to find people to hang out with, let alone have any friends. What with the whole ‘he could be a double agent waiting to reveal secrets for his own benefit,’ thing looming over him thanks to his father. 

It didn’t matter that his mother had been a dedicated agent who left his father the moment she learned he was double-crossing and raised him herself to be a good person. All her efforts were ignored and Tony was lucky to be called a backstabber at worst and a turncoat at best. 

At least this school accepted him with minimal difficulty. Granted, he was ignored by the two main affiliates he was associated with, but at least he was able to study and hey! He was given permission to use the engineering room. He had that going for him.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom though. Sure, the one individual who managed to overlook his whole conflicted birth was not exactly a person to write home about, but Loki had a sense of fashion compared to most and always made sure Tony looked his best. 

“No Asgardian prince will share common space with a pauper,” were Loki’s everyday words when he found Tony wearing his admittedly cheap outfits. Conveniently forgetting Tony wasn’t exactly carrying a nation’s treasury in his back pocket like the prince. 

All in all, it wasn’t so bad. He had a sort-of friend but really an acquaintance who found his presence less annoying than most. He was given permission to tinker and experiment with tech and invent whatever he wanted. Within reason. He was given his education. He even managed to share space with some of the greatest names known! Both on Earth and from space. 

Captain Marvel, the Hulk, Falcon, heck, he even managed to catch a glimpse of Moon Girl and had Iron Woman look at him once! The last one had made Tony’s entire day. What he would give to share, like, ten minutes with Iron Woman and pick at her brain. See how she worked. A dream come true. 

Often, he would daydream of one day joining any of their groups. Just once. Even if it was only a minute or two. He would daydream of perhaps making a difference somewhere, even if small. Invent life-changing tech. Maybe even become a hero in his own right? Anything to show he wasn’t just a simple agent who was ready to turn their friends over at a moment’s notice.

What he would give for just a glimpse of what that would feel. Not having everyone watch your every move. 

Well, not much to be done there. He just had to buckle down and work harder than most to go against the whole school’s expectations of him. Every day he attended his classes, completed his extracurricular activities, worked on his shabby attempt at an AI and daydreamed about what-ifs.

“Yo, Clint, hurry up. You’re already late!” 

Tony turned to look behind him where the Hawkeye and the Falcon were casually waving at each other. Going about their day like usual and walking around as if they didn’t carry big names on them. 

He sighed and went back to his work. He was finishing up his coding for another attempt at Friday’s calculating. He was alone at Club A. The engineering room having been taken up in its entirety by up-and-coming SHIELD agents wanting to be the next big shot. As Tony was not in the mood to be constantly stared or pointed at, he decided to finish his coding in the one building devoid of bodies this time of day. 

However, even if alone with nothing to distract him, he couldn’t help his mind wandering around the place. In particular, a rumor that had begun circulating around the Academy recently. A rumor involving the golden boy. Captain America himself. 

What was the rumor? Why, apparently Captain America had a crush. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t exactly something worth talking about, but if one was following Captain America’s career closely, it was big news. 

Captain America was a big name, and the person responsible for it wasn’t someone to ignore. Steve Rogers was kind, respectful, brave and a very, very private person. Especially with his romantic aspect of it. It was rare to ever see the guy go on dates or show even a lick of interest to anyone. One could say if he ever found love again the person lucky enough wouldn’t have to ever worry about his eyes straying. 

Peggy Carter was a very lucky woman, or had been lucky, he would say. If the rumor held any truth, the founder of SHIELD was no longer the one holding the Captain’s heart. 

According to hearsay, Steve Rogers had a crush on someone in the engineering club, and while Peggy Carter was a genius in her own right, she wasn’t exactly tech savy for the club. This left a few possible contenders. Excluding the SHIELD agents – because come on, why would Captain America go for a lowly SHIELD agent? – the heroes at the top of the list were Moon Girl, Ironheart, Shuri, Spider-Gwen and, of course, Iron Woman. There were more, sure, but the rumor listed these specifically. 

Tony sighed again, tapping the end of his pen against the wooden surface he was working on top of. He should probably stop thinking about this particular rumor, but he couldn’t help it. Ever since growing up, he looked up to the idea of Captain America. Going against all odds to be the hero he was today. Tony couldn’t help but compare himself and his hardships with the guy, and somewhere along the way he kind of, sort of, maybe had gained a little bit of a crush on the hero, so hearing about the hero liking someone was a little painful. 

If he had to guess, the one the Captain was crushing on was probably Iron Woman. The one and only Natasha Stark. He often saw the two hanging out with each other. Always together with their ‘click.’ It was only natural Steve would catch some feelings if they hung out every day. 

Didn’t hurt any less though. 

“Okay,” he said to no one. “Focus. Focus.” He couldn’t waste his hour of free time away thinking about this. He had coding to finish and nobody was going to help him with it. Loki was useless when it came to tech and didn’t exactly make for encouraging company, so it was now or never. 

He slammed his pen down, harder than necessary, but the paper had no feelings to hurt so he didn’t particularly care, but he did utter a soft ‘sorry’ for disrespecting the code. 

He got to work and made good progress. His calculations might be a little off but he could hammer it down once he had access to the engineering labs again. The important thing was he had the base to work with. 

He decided to stop when he got stuck. He needed to test out his idea, but with no access right now to the computers at the labs, it was pointless to continue. He shuffled the papers together and stuffed them in his backpack. He still had twenty minutes left to kill time before his next class, meaning his next destination was the park. There, he was left alone and he could sit with his thoughts.

Ah, perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. The last thing he needed was time to think about the rumor again. Then again, he was thinking about it now as he attempted not to think about it. A vicious cycle.

As he was busy with his inner turmoil, he failed to notice someone getting closer from behind and by the time they caught his attention, Tony was left staring blankly at a flower in his face. 

It was a rose. Very red and very much smelling of a rose. It was jammed right in front of Tony’s nose and he went a little cockeyed looking at it. The person at the other end of the rose was none other than Steve Rogers. 

Whoa, Tony thought. He had never seen the Captain America standing so close before. Had his eyes always been that blue? 

So enraptured by those eyes, Tony could do nothing as the Captain reached out to cup the side of his face and pulled him forward. Tony went wide-eyed when the hero placed a small kiss on his mouth. A peck, really. Tony barely felt it. 

The hero pulled back and gave a blinding smile. Then, just as quickly as he appeared, he left the rose on his lap and disappeared, leaving Tony alone once more in Club A. 

Tony placed his good hand over his mouth unconsciously, and as his thoughts started catching up he went bright red. 

He just – he just – he – k-kissed -

A squeak he would deny for the rest of his life escaped him and Tony quickly scrambled to run back to his dorm to hide. 

[abirddogmoment]

It's been a minute since I posted any training videos but here's where we're at with steadiness training!

We're coming really close to meeting my goals for steadiness training! I'm now able to throw things while Rory stays in heel position without too much trouble. She's able to maintain this outdoors in most environments so I'm really really happy with where we're at!

I do a lot of practice heeling around distractions, but I just realized this was the first time I heeled towards the thing she wants and pulled a u-turn. As a result, she's a little slow on that turn and lacks the enthusiasm on the actual retrieve. Nbd, I'll practice it a little more with easier retrieves to build the enthusiasm in the next session.

I'm most proud of how she connected the cue "ready" with looking out towards the ite. (rather than looking up at me). I don't do directional casting (when you put your arm out to direct the dog) on simple retrieves so it's just the cue plus that little hand next to her head. It makes me happy every time she locks up in the correct direction and gets ready.

I'm also super happy with her understanding of the release! I can pet her or touch her and she won't break the stay until I release her with the "okay!" or "get it" cues. I don't think I pet her in this video but I've been practicing that too so I'm thrilled it's sticking!

It's hard to believe she's only a year old when we're doing training sessions like these! I'm so excited to see how she grows up, she's gonna be so cool 🥺💜

[chuluoyi]

✎ the babysitters' club

- gojo satoru x reader

in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

genre: total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff

note: this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"

On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.

"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"

"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.

"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.

No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.

Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.

"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"

. . . a momentary silence before—

"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"

"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"

"Complete bullshit—"

"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"

"Seriously...?"

"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.

"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.

“What! Why?!”

“That's not fair!”

“Sigh.”

“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."

"Nonsen—"

"Quiet, Megumi!"

And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.

“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”

“Fwa...”

“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”

“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”

“WAAA!”

“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”

And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.

"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."

"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"

"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."

And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.

"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.

For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.

“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”

"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—

"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"

On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.

"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."

When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.

Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it! But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?

"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.

The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:

Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!

"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.

The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.

Two my most precious treasures ♡ Sweetheart, I love you. And baby too!

Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"

"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.

"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."

And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.

Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...

"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"

Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"

"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"

Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"

At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.

Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"

"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"

The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.

It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.

And under less-than-watchful eyes...

"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"

"Ooh, you're right!"

The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.

"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"

"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"

Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.

"Wait... where's the baby?"

"—! Oh my god!"

And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"

"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"

You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.

"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"

You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.

"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."

Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"

"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"

Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.

"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"

"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.

"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."

And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.

Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.

"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.

"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"

Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.

"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."

And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.

"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"

But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.

"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—

"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"

Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"

"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"

"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"

You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.

"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.

"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"

The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...

You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."

“Huh?!”

“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”

Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"

Epilogue

"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.

You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.

Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"

"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."

Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"

"Hmm...?"

"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."

[signedkoko]

Oo could I request romantic Vees with a reader who's this famous singer/idol in Hell? (Think, way more than Fizzarolli-level famous)

Valentino | Velvette | Vox [Romantic]

In which you are one of the most popular performance artists in all of hell. Reader is female.

Your name was more than just 'known'; it was plastered along buildings and chanted by millions

He was always scouting for personalities, following trends in people to see who he could drag down into his vicing grip

But you were untouchable, the first thing he couldn't command to their knees before him

Even so, if Val wanted to meet you, he could, and it was extremely new to the overlord to have to go out of his way to meet someone, but he felt it was worth it

He claims it was because you had possible talent, but those closest to him know he had a bit of a celebrity crush

Valentino is not one to be nervous; he would be direct when telling you that he wanted you, again and again, until you eventually granted him at least one night out, just the two of you

Once he has his chance, he'll pull out every stop just to hear you say that you'd like to see him again

He gets so distracted with you that he forgets the part about getting you into his company, eventually brushing it off by saying you 'didn't suit what he was looking for'

Avoiding being under his contract meant he could never command you, which meant he never had anything to be angry with you about

According to him, you were a role model for all the demons he owned

Famous stars require famous stylists, and who better than Velvette?

You'd actually reached out to her personally, since a lot of her work inspired your current stylists, and you wanted an upgrade for your tour of hell

Idol's like you were the exact thing people like Velvette dreamed of having in their portfolio, and she insisted on meeting you so she could see what you were looking for

In all her years, she'd never met an idol so genuine—most were snobbish, greedy, or just told her to 'do whatever'

You came in with photos of things you liked, hell, even fabrics you preferred, and a set list of what your songs would look like in order

She was already in love

You get her personal creations, and she insists on being the one to tailor you herself

" Only the best for the best, right? "

She can feel her bitchy attitude melt, and though she gets extremely bothered when anyone interrupts your sessions together, you ground her

It's not long before you two become official, and while she can't follow you into the deeper rings of hell, she will always be sure to watch your performances in the background while she works

She constantly calls you 'doll', because she's always dressing you up

Influences, aristocrats, idols—none of it was new to the king of social media

Everyone contacted him for their social management, or his team, at least

He didn't do much of the personal work himself; he had far too much on his plate, but he always checked on who was requesting his services

Mostly for the ego boost, knowing the image of so many self-proclaimed "stars'' relied on him

But there was also a list of people he wanted to work for, a list that brought his ego back down and told him he hadn't met his goals yet and had to try harder

You were at the very top

He'd seen a plethora of your performances recorded and reuploaded: best takes, most underrated performances, and unforgettable sets

But he'd never had the chance to see you live until he got a PR package regarding your newest album release

Him? It was certainly interesting to...no shot, you sent him hidden tickets for 'friends only'

He is not fangirling except maybe a bit; he's already cleared his schedule that evening so he can get there and making sure his outfit is cleaned up and ready

Your performance was out of this world, and he is beyond pleased when he is invited backstage to speak with you

There you were, taking off your earrings in your dressing room, smiling at him as if you were old friends

" How was the performance? I'm so glad you came. "

For a moment, hes almost worried you have the wrong person; he seems uncertain of what to say until you continue

" I heard you are hard to win over, so I figured I'd go all out before I ask if you'd consider running my new album compaigne? "

He acts cool, but when he gets home that evening, he is pumping his fist in the air and screaming

Author's Note - I was thinking lilith-level famous, you are THAT girl... Thank you for requesting! I went for a fem! reader because it was no specified

[freebooter4ever]

Alright i googled intentionally negative reviews of the book and yeah it sounds like the sexualization of the dude's youth only gets worse in even more descriptive ways so im forcing myself to quit the book here :/ honestly i didnt expect to be so triggered by the damn thing. The synopsis and 90% of the reviews online are so positive: they talk about the main female character as this empowered art gallary owner who jet sets to festivals and biennales and the pop star dude kinda tags along. It sounded exciting and fun and kinda a tables turned version of nicole and steve's jet setting romance. And i am all too aware of the hostile art world that the main character has established herself in and i was excited to revisit that.

Absolutely none of that happened. Instead it was gross and triggering and frankly just sad :( im disappointed, lol. Especially because so many of my favorite male celebrities are in or were in this kind of age gap relationship. Steve and nicole: 14 yrs? Justin and ally: 12 or 13? Rami hasnt dated anyone less than 10 years younger than him since he was like 35 or something. I remember when taylor started dating hiddles and how odd it felt because i myself felt too young for hiddles. Diego and suki were a 12 years difference or something. And yikes i still remember when norman was dating that 19 year old in his 40s (thank GOD for diane lmao). Like there is definitely a trend. It is noticable. And i absolutely do not think those relationships were absuive - they happened when the women were well established in their 20s. So, i dunno, it would have been nice to read about the ages flipped in a way that was truly a romance instead of an age and youth obsessed confidence boost for the older woman. It makes me sad.

im listening to the book version of the anne hathawa*y rom com and it is even worse, my goodness, this female main character is a self obsessed elitist snob o.O

she also extremely fetishizes the male lead's youth in the same way my abusive ex did that is grossing me out. she talks about how beautiful he is with his smooth skin over and over. they have zero things in common beyond sex. dude run away from this woman. if she is only with you because of your tight skin and quick refractory period.... RUN.

like it would be one thing to read an age difference book where it truly was a meeting of hearts and minds and falling in love... but this aint it. :( i wanted a book that gave me hope about falling in love in my 40s since i squandered my 20s (abusive idiot), and my 30s (workaholic, unemployed). instead this is just squicking me out and making me never want to touch anyone else ever again -_-

[cherriesformatt]

vlog day || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: you said yes to being in the vlog while spending time with ur best friends and your boyfriend.

warnings: none

word count: 1,1k

a/n: have a good day ily

“Are you filming already?” I asked sitting at the table and putting stuff in my purse.

I was cleaning it because I couldn’t find my favorite lipstick anywhere.

“Yes, you said it’s okay if we film the vlog with you right?” Nick asked me and I nodded.

“Yes, yes look guys!” I looked at the camera and brought a gift bag closer to me.

“So I said few days back that I wasn’t feeling that good lately like you know mentally because I had a lot of work and stress. I came in here this morning and this was on the table with my name on it” I showed the bag.

“Look what Chris and Nick got me” I laughed showing the camera the coffee cup with triplets photos on it.

“We know you love coffee so… you know you can look every morning at people who brings you joy in your life” Nick laughed behind the camera.

“Yes and you know what’s the funniest part? They only put one photo of Matt” I said and stood up when I saw Chris coming up with the new Dr Pepper.

“It’s finally here people let’s try it” he said.

“He is constantly talking about it let’s just get over it” I whispered to the camera.

“I found your lipstick honey… oh your filming already?” Matt came from his room.

“Aww Matt you’re not beating lover boy allegations ever again” Chris laughed at him but Matt only rolled his eyes and gave me the lipstick.

“Thank you Matt” I smiled and wanted to peck his lips but I didn’t.

I didn’t want to push that I was already in the vlog. But I was exited and I said yes because us four actually didn’t spent time together for a long time now. So I was excited for some fun with my boyfriend and his brothers.

“Ladies first….”Chris gave me the can.

“Okay because if I die it’s on you…” I say and I took a sip.

It wasn’t bad but also it wasn’t my favorite.

“Meh… it’s okay but I think you and Nick will like it” I gave it back to Chris.

He made his brothers try and they had a talk about it while I went to put my converse on.

When we got into the car I sat in the back with Nick so Chris could be in front of the camera.

“So we don’t know where we’re going yet” Chris said to the camera and we all looked at it surprised it’s on.

“What? I thought we can decide on camera…” he said.

“Let’s go to Melrose I want Happy Ice” Nick said and I clapped my hands.

“Yes! Happy Ice and pizza I’m in” I said and buckled my sit belt.

We were driving with Chris talking all the time and Matt crying about every dog we pass.

“When you explain something is impossible to know what you’re talking about… it’s like I spy game with 5 years old” I told Chris.

“Well I wanted to edge on…”He started.

“Oh you want us to edge you a little? Okay…”Matt said and I gasped.

“Matthew….”I hit his arm playfully.

“Don’t even start y/n” he said and looked at me in the mirror and I winked at him.

“Anyways… how much longer? I need to peepee” I said looking at maps.

“Oh my god you’re worst than Chris sometimes babe” Matt said.

I looked at him and laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“Guys.. that’s what y/n always does. 20 minutes before we left she said she needs to pee but instead going to the bathroom she did like 100 other things and she forgot to go and its like that every time we go out” Matt said.

“Woow sir what is this? Telling each other icks or what?” Nick asked looking at us.

“I would say about her hair in the bathroom everywhere” Matt added.

“Fair enough… I would say about your hair in the sink after you shave and we would be even” I laughed.

“And I would say your underwear under my couch when you guys forget you don’t live alone” Nick said and I covered my mouth with my hand.

“Shut up it was once” I said.

“Nah like three times” Chris said and I covered my whole face with my hands.

“We not putting this in the video and stop making her uncomfortable” Matt laughed.

“We were uncomfortable!” Nick yelled.

“Okay done with my sex life let’s talk about the weather or about how ugly is this persons outfit” I said when we stopped on red.

“Omg but look they are so cute having photo shoot together” Nick said and I smiled.

“Awww look how he’s holding her stuff for her” I said.

When we got to the pizza place I ordered for us and looked at the boys filming in the corner.

“Matt please don’t do that it actually sends shivers down my spine “I told him looking at him opening the water bottle with his teeth.

“Here I need to go to the bathroom” I gave him order numer and went into the toilet.

We ate in the car talking shit about people and than we got to the happy ice and I was holding the camera.

“Guys if he won’t take cherry for me I’m going to break up with him. I told him he needs to guess what I want” I whispered to the camera.

“Here I bought cherry flavored for you?” He came up to me with the desert and I smiled.

“Ah still need that anniversary gift then” I said to the camera when Matt took it from me and looked at me confused but I only smiled at him.

We walked around while we ate and then we came back to the car. While we were driving I saw a very handsome guy and me an Nick made a funny face in the same time looking after him.

“This guy was so hot!!” Nick yelled and I gave him high 5.

“ I knew you’re going to say that!” Chris said.

“y/n I’m not talking to you anymore” Matt said and I made a sad face.

“You love me Matty he was like 4 you are a 10” I said and he smiled.

“So technically you think I’m a 10?” Chris asked.

“Well yes but then you open your mouth” I said and everyone laughed.

When we came home I took my shoes off and sat down on the couch when boys finished up the video.

“Okay we’re done… that was fun thanks for coming with us and filming” nick said and he sat down next to me.

“I had fun too! I hope everyone is not going to kill me for being in the video” I said.

“They’re going to love you” he said and I smiled.

“Movie night?” Matt asked from the kitchen.

“Movie night!” I said happily.

He smiled and me and I hugged a pillow close to me. I was so relaxed after spending day with them. Nick was right. They were my favorite humans in the whole world.

[citricacidprince]

Does relativity falls Ford still wipe Stans memory's? And if so what is the aftermath?

Yes!! Ford still does erase Stan’s memory, I even did a drawing of it right here cause thinking about it hurts me soooo bad hehe

As for the aftermath, I have sooooo many thoughts

Stan still gets his memory back like in the show, however due to being 13 I like to think he didn’t come out completely unscathed. After all your mind is still growing at that age so i bet you ain’t gonna get out of a mind wipe without any side effects.

His mind quickly remembers everything he WANTS to remember or anything he considered important, however things Stan would rather forget or didn’t think were very important took longer to come back to him, if at all.

Here’s a quick doodle I did of Stan post series not remembering who his dad was for like 3 days because I thought of that randomly and it made me feel ill :)

Stanley also begins to struggle in school, but like, 3 times worst before. Again, the memory wipe wasn’t very kind to him education wise, that stuff didn’t come back to him very easily. Stanford, who is easily the world most guilt ridden child, is dead set on making sure Stan can pass every grade with him, even if Stan has to cheat off his papers. Stan insists that Ford doesn’t have to go out of his way to help him but Ford won’t take no for an answer.

After Weirdmageddon the twins are attached at the hip and get really codependent on eachother and that doesn’t ease up as the years go on. Stanley feels more dumb the years go on but he feels happy that least he has his brother with him and Ford doesn’t treat him like an idiot. Stanford is constantly fretting over Stan, making sure he’s around if Stan has any memory lapses, or about to tackle someone like a rabid dog if they try fight Stan. It’s not the most healthy codependent relationship, but the two feel safe with each other and after all they’ve been through they can be a bit unhealthily codependent, as a treat <3

Filbrick still kicks Stanley out of the house when he’s 17, this time because he was furious at the fact Stanley wasn’t going to be able to graduate due to low grades and too many write ups. The main difference between the show here is that Stanford doesn’t even hesitate to walk out the door with Stanley, even when his dad tells him to go back inside. Ford almost lost his brother forever when he was a kid due to letting his father’s words bleed into his head, he refuses to ever let that happen again.

Stanley tearily calls Dipper and Mabel and tries to explain what happened before Stanford takes the phone and talks for Stan, explaining what happened and asking if the two could stay with them. Dipper and Mabel don’t even need to think about it, instantly fussing over the two as their voices overlap each others asking if the two are okay, if they need money, do they need to come get them, etc etc. Stanley insists that they’re fine and he’ll just take the 2-3 day drive to Oregon just like he did last summer when he got his permit.

The next morning their mother sneaks them into their old home and lets them take whatever they want and a wad of money she had hidden away, telling the two that she’s sorry but she was backed into a corner and didn’t know what else to do. Gave the boys a kiss on the cheek and ushered them out before their father caught on that they were there.

The drive is pretty quiet, the only disturbances being Ford asking Stan if he needs a break from driving to which Stan immediately turns down, and Stan guiltily saying that Ford didn’t have to leave with him to which Ford immediately shuts down that train of thought and says that where ever Stan goes, he’ll go.

When the two arrive at Gravity Falls Dipper and Mabel instantly squeeze the two to death, being nonstop worried ever since they got the call. Mabel helped the boys unpack while Dipper made a couple low threats into the phone and soon enough he had custody over the twins. (His blood boils when he thinks about how Filbrick didn’t even hesitate to give custody of Stanley, but fought about Stanford. Makes him happy that he never met the man in person.)

Stanley and Stanford finish off High School in Gravity Falls. Ford begins college courses online and Stan begins working at the Mystery Shack with Mabel and Anjelita, finding out he quite enjoyed theatrics and art, much to Mabel’s enjoyment.

I still want Stan and Ford to sail. Even if it’s just for a summer I want them to sail so bad. They deserve it.

I may put these boys through hell but I want them to be happy by the end of this that if they aren’t I think I would cry 💥

[feministfang]

Three brave women beat up a shopkeeper in islamic republic of Pakistan for harassing them and all the Pakistani men are so pissed off that they’re sending death threats to those women for taking action in their own hands instead of tolerating and calling some male authority or police. That piece of shit also filed a case against those women for abusing him and as a citizen of this trash country, i can tell he will win the case.

A 20 years old girl, Sania Zehra, was brutally tortured, raped and murdered by her husband, syed ali raza bukhari, when she was pregnant with her third child. This also happened in Pakistan on 8th of July. Now the same men are silent over this or trying to shove the issue of Palestine on feminist pages posting about Sania’s case because "far worst things are happening in the world". Meanwhile, Pakistani women are busy dick worshipping the victim’s father because "he must be so traumatised after losing his daughter like this. oh poor man!" As if that bitch isn’t at fault for making her daughter marry that old beast when she was probably 16.

Celebrities here are more concerned about men’s deteriorating mental health in this country as these lunatics think catering to men’s feelings will somehow fix them. What else can you expect from them when the entire world outside has progressed, but these dumbfucks are still portraying the same old cringe fairytale stories where a simple beautiful, but unfortunate girl falls in love with some ugly psychotic man and tolerates his abuse because "that’s true love 😍" and in the end, she’s successful in fixing him.

But when we speak a word against the atrocities women face in this country, all these people lose their minds and try to silence us to ensure the image of their fuckin country is not at risk of defamation and the lovely Pakistan can become an example of how peaceful islam is. Pakistani men (and most women here as well) are intolerant when it comes to the vilification of the image of their country and religion. And their asses start burning when they see someone ruining it. They even stoop so low to the level of satanism that they would not hesitate to send death threats to anyone making them look bad globally. A girl i was friends with on FB wished Malala another gunshot on her face by Taliban because of her anti-marriage stance.

This is why i urge y’all to please don’t stay silent on the issues women are facing in Pakistan. I never see global feminist pages talking about female oppression in this garbage country. Some feminists living in west also act like brown men are somehow better than white men and they’re more oppressed than white women because of racism, or that muslim men are better than christian bigots. Stop victimising brown muslim men. Not only are they hideous but also the misogyny the south asian society has shoved in their assholes is extremely disgusting and they keep shitting it on women everywhere they go, including white women.

I wouldn’t expect support from brainless libby feminists as they’re probably busy pulling their pants down on their favourite OF platforms or fighting misandry online, but i would love to see all the radfems speaking up for south asian women. Please make it known globally how the Pakistani islamic community is constantly oppressing women day by day.

Use the examples i stated above. Speak up for Sania Zehra!! Demand justice for her globally, and keep bashing corrupt Pakistani law system. Also, don’t forget to defame their religion. These people are most protective of their culture and religion. I don’t see any hope in this country for women, but there’s a chance they will start taking action and give proper justice to the victims in order to protect their so called dignity.

[cy-cyborg]

Toph Beifong doesn’t hold up as disability representation - Disability in the Media

[ID: A screenshot of Toph, a twelve-year-old girl with black hair in a loose, green and tan short-sleeve shirt and shorts, cheering in an arena. Next to text written in a rough, blocky font: "Disability in Media - Toph Beifong Doesn't hold up as disability representation" /End ID]

Avatar the Last Airbender is one of my all-time favourite TV-shows, and Toph is still easily one of my favourite members of Team Avatar. I was a few years younger than Toph when the show first started airing, and being a disabled kid who was into martial arts, constantly being dismissed by my able-bodied opponents and teachers, meant that I connected very strongly with her right from the get-go.

But upon my last couple of rewatches of the series, I began to come to the realisation that my opinions on Toph as a shining example of good disability representation were... well, pretty heavily influenced by my nostalgia for the show and that many aspects of Toph's character just don't hold up today. Which, honestly is fair, the show is nearly 19 years old (if it were a person in my country, it would be old enough to drink) and I think it's pretty ridiculous to expect every part of every character from an 19 year old show to age well. So today I wanted to talk about the things I think Avatar the original Last Airbender did right with Toph, where I think they missed the mark, and what changes I think would need to be made to Toph to make her work for a modern audience.

So let's start with why I think Toph doesn't really hold up as "good disability representation" today, and the elements of her character that just haven't aged as well.

For me, one of the biggest issues I noticed upon rewatching the show, is how often we are told (often by Toph herself) that she is blind, but how infrequently we are actually shown it's impact on her life beyond her bending or outside of jokey contexts. Outside of her bending, we only ever see her blindness impacting her ability to do things like read or write, otherwise, she functionally has full vision -so far as the audience is informed - with the only exceptions being when she's in the air or water (e.g. on Appa or in the submarines) or in loose soil (e.g. the desert). Having places and circumstances where she doesn't have access to her power that allows her to "see" was a step in the right direction, but I do think it would have been better if her seismic sense wasn't quite as accurate, even in the most ideal of circumstances.

But why? Well, I think Suki explains it really well, long before Toph is even introduced. when Sokka says "I should have seen you as a warrior instead of a girl" Suki stops him and says "I am a warrior, but I'm also a girl". Being a warrior and a woman are both important parts of Suki's character, and only recognising her as one or the other means ignoring a big part of who she is, and the same is true for Toph. Being blind is a big part of toph's character that has informed a lot of her life, but so is being a warrior and bending master. Many people see Toph as a warrior or fighter, but ignore her disability, but both are important. She's disabled, and a warrior, and those things don't cancel each other out, the same way being a warrior doesn't diminish Suki's status as a woman.

When the show was still airing though (and even still today) it was very common to see non-disabled fans of the show exclaiming that they honestly forget that Toph is even blind sometimes, with many people going so far as to say that she's not even disabled (and that this was a good thing). While I do think some of that comes from the fact they weren't used to seeing a disabled character as both disabled and an active participant in these kinds of stories, I do think this mostly happened because of the show's lack of, well, showing the impact of her blindness on her daily life and allowing her earthbending and seismic sense to erase the effects of her disability to some extent. It's much harder to forget a character is blind when it impacts their daily life in ways that are shown to the audience. This doesn't have to be in big, showy ways mind you, showing things subtly but consistently works way better than one "very special episode" type setup.

In the show as it is though, the seismic sense functionally gives Toph a perfect image of her surroundings until it's just not available anymore for *plot reasons*.

[ID: A black and white shot of Toph and how she sees the oponent she's fighting, with shockwaves radiating from him towards her to indicate how she's interpreting the scene. Her foe has jumped into the air and now has his hand dug into the ground of an arena, about to launch rocks towards her. /End ID]

In many ways, her picture of the world is better and clearer than what the non-disabled characters can see, leading to this feeling of her disability being erased. It may have been better though if the seismic sense could give her a general idea of big things in her immediate vicinity but she still missed the finer details, functioning at least a little bit more like a tactile/earthy-vibration version of the limited sight some legally-blind people have in real life. Things like a person's position, movement and overall pose would still be "visible" to her in a general sense, as well as big things in the environment (including things underground, since there are a few plot-points that require that), but smaller things like details about objects and creatures, people's facial expressions or what they're doing with parts of their body that have no direct contact with the ground (like their hands) is less clear. On top of this, she may struggle to detect smaller, lighter objects or creatures that realistically wouldn't cause much of a vibration at all. creatures as small and as light as Momo and Hawky for example might be detectable, but "fuzzy" to her, and anything smaller might make enough of a vibration to tell her it's there when it moves, but not enough for her to be able to tell what specifically it is without some other cue (such as sound). There are a few moments in the show that seem to imply this is what they were initially going for, but it's not really consistent, and is directly contradicted in her debut episode, "the blind bandit" when she explains that she can even "see" something as small as the ants off in the distance.

[ID: A shot of Aang, a twelve-year-old bald boy with an arrow tattoo on his head, dressed in a yellow and orange outfit, standing with Toph at night. In the foreground is an anthill will a trail of ants, which Aang is looking for. /End ID]

With an adjustment like what I'm suggesting though, she still serves her narrative purpose of teaching Aang the importance of being able to wait and listen - possibly even more so, as her needing to wait and collect more information in order to get a clearer image before striking, would back-up what Bumi tells Aang that he needs in an earth bending master. It would also still help to illustrate the connectedness of the world, a theme Toph continues to embody heavily in The Legend of Korra, while still showing the ways her disability impacts her more frequently.

When I talked about the "super-crip" trope a while back, I mentioned that one way to avoid the more harmful elements of the trope (where the character's disability is erased by their powers) is to use the ability in question more like a mobility or disability aid than a straight-up cure. The power should help them, but shouldn't make their disability redundant. People are creative and we would find ways to use a superpower or magic to help with our disabilities if it were available in real life, but what's the point of including a disabled character if you're just going to functionally erase their disability? For a character like Toph, I think this is the kind of approach that should be taken with her. Her seismic sense still helps her, but it's not a perfect replacement. (Ironically, I did use Toph as a "good" example of that trope, but I do think after this last rewatch, for the reasons I'm discussing here, I might have to backtrack that a bit).

I considered giving an alternative approach here, to keep the sensitivity of toph's seismic sense as it is in the show as is, but giving it draw-backs such as making her susceptible to sensory overload similar to what autistic people experience. However, while replacing one disability with another can work for some characters and stories, I don't think it's the best adjustment to make for Toph or any blind character, largely thanks to this also being a trope. The "blind (or d/Deaf) person who's other senses become super-human to make up for it" trope is very common in fantasy, sci-fi as well as older martial arts films, and while I'm not really the best person to cover it, I do know that members of both the blind and deaf communities have expressed a lot of frustration with it. Toph already falls into this trope quite a bit, and any suggestions I could make would have just dialled that element up to 11, and fixing one problem with another is never a good idea.

Another thing that actually did bug me for a while, even before my most recent rewatch of the show, is how Toph is treated on the rare occasions she does point out something won't working for her. There are a number of times where Toph advocates for herself and points out that something The Gaang is doing isn't accessible to her or sets a boundary to do with her disability, and she's either left behind, her concerns are brushed off or she's ignored entirely. The three most noticeable examples of this are in the Episodes "The Ember Island Players," "The Library," and Toph and Katara's segment of "Tales of Ba Sing Se."

In the Ember Island Players, Toph complains that the seats they have for the play are too high up and too far away, and she's unable to "see" what's happening on stage. Her friends don't really take any notice of her though except for Katara who tells her not to worry, "I'll tell your feet what's happening."

[ID: A shot of Katara, a fourteen-year-old girl with long brown hair and blue eyes, sitting with Toph, who is sitting with her arms crossed, annoying in a theatre seat. Both Toph and Katara are wearing red and gold, fire-themed outfits. Katara is looking at something off-screen. /End ID]

My problem here is that this particular kind of situation is something that is familiar to a lot of disabled people. Even the least independent disabled people I know get annoyed when their access needs or requests for accommodations, even among friends, are ignored and their pushback is brushed off with "don't worry, I'll just help you!" It's one of the first things that many disabled people tell non-disabled folks wishing to be better allies to us: you offering help instead of actually accommodating us isn't a good thing. We don't want to rely on others if we can avoid it, because honestly, non-disabled people often aren't very good at actually helping or in this case, relaying information to us without training and more often than not, it just results in us being left out. I find it very hard to believe a character as independent as Toph would accept that without any protest, especially considering that is pretty much exactly what ends up happening (even if the show didn't really acknowledge it). Katara never actually conveys anything about the play to Toph, except when she's attempting to throw Toph's words back in her face when she asks for clarification about the actor playing her - which ends up backfiring on her.

[ID: A shot from the same location as before, this time Toph has a huge smile on her face and is leaning on the balcony excitedly while Katara is leaning towards her, annoyed by her reaction. /End ID]

While it would have been better if Toph was actually listened to, it would have been…fine? if a justification was given for why they had to sit there (e.g. to avoid being recognised), if Katara had actually described the play for her. This wouldn't have been ideal, but it would have been better at least. In real life, many movies, TV shows (including this show's sequel series, The Legend of Korra) and other forms of visual media have an Audio Description track that does exactly that. If they weren't going to move for Toph to be able to see better, having Katara describe the play could have introduced kids to the fact this is an option. but instead it's brushed off, and I'll admit, it left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, even back in 2006.

The Library is a bit more forgivable in my opinion, since Toph is still new to the group, but in this episode, she states that she doesn't want to go inside the spirit library because she isn't able to read and therefor there wouldn't be anything for her to do. However, it still would have been nice to see her friends consider this at all before they actually arrived. They could have (and should have) still gone, but some acknowledgement that they at least thought about the inclusion of their disabled friend would have been nice.

[ID: A shot of Aang, Katara, Sokka and another man are talking while looking down at a map on the table. Meanwhile, Toph is sitting on the other side of the table, completely disinterested as she sips from a large ice cup with her feet up on another chair. /End ID]

Alternatively, I do feel like Wan Shi Tong, a self-proclaimed all-knowing-spirit or his assistants would have been able to point her in the direction of something to interest her, since he does imply books aren't the only form of knowledge he collects.

The reason I mention this though is two-fold. In real life, disabled people are very often left out of "fun" group activities, whether that be in formal settings or in casual ones, like hanging out with friends. If the episode had been framed as "the Gaang learns about the library and decides to track it down," I might have been less critical, but it's specifically framed as something that at least starts out as a kind of break for the team where they all take turns picking out fun things to do so they can rest, and Toph's access needs not being considered at all until they're already there hits a bit close to home, especially since they just end up leaving her outside. Secondly, there's also a stereotype that disabled people (and especially blind people) don't belong in academia and places of learning, such as in this case, libraries. This stereotype is about as old as the concept of organised institutions of learning, and definitely isn't unique to AtLA, but the assumption is often that disabled people wouldn't be interested in more formal methods of learning, so it's not worth accommodating us. With blind people in particular, when I've seen this in media, the premise is often "well I can't read anyway so why bother?" which Toph definitely falls into here with no push-back against the trope.

[ID: A close up of Toph and the rest of the group, Katara, Sokka and Aang standing in a desert. Toph shrugs, looking bored, while the others looks confused and surprised with the exception of Katara, who looks mildly annoyed, standing with her hands on her hips. /End ID]

It does make sense that she would have been resistant to going in, and I'm not saying this episode should have turned Toph into a bookwork akin to Wings of Fire's Starflight (another blind character) or anything. But there was a chance in this episode to push back against some of these assumptions, and I think it's a shame they missed it. How cool would it have been if Toph had mentioned not feeling welcomed in more formal learning spaces because of her disability, which was just reinforced by the way her old earthbending instructor and her parents treated her. She decides to go inside the library anyway as "backup" in case something goes wrong, grumbling about it the whole way down. Wan She Tong starts his introduction mostly the same way, saying humans aren't welcome and Toph makes a snarky comment about it. Wan She Tong, equally offended that this human thinks he, the all-knowing-spirit, wouldn't have considered something, shoots back with an annoyed comment about humans being so self-centred. He explains that spirits come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them have eyes, but they can still access his library. She's not the first sightless being in his study, and he-who-knows-ten-thousand-things knows this too. Once everyone is permitted entry, one of the knowledge seekers shows her to a series of slates about a lost earthbending form that she can actually read (or at least, "see" the pictures on) because it's carved. Or instead of a slate, it's a series of statues outlining the form, similar to what Aang and Zuko find in the episode "The Firebending Masters". Perhaps this form is something that helps her develop metal bending later on, and lays the groundwork for Toph becoming interested in teaching in the comics.

And finally, Toph and Katara's segment of Tales of Ba Sing Se. Katara convinces Toph to go get a makeover with her as part of a girl's day. Overall, this segment of the episode is pretty nice, and I liked that they showed that a person's gender expression (in this case, being a tom-boy) doesn't mean they can't like things outside of what we usually associate with that. Tom-boys can like girly things on occasion, and vice-versa, and I think this is an example of an episode that would seem a bit ham-fisted today, but honestly, was needed in 2006. However, there's a throw away joke where Toph says "as long as they don't touch my feet," and it immediately cuts to show spa workers filing down the calluses on her feet in a way so painful several staff are required to hold her down.

[ID: An image of Toph in a bath robe being held down in a chair by two spa workers while a third scrubs at her feet so hard that she is sweating. Meanwhile Toph is fighting against the two holding her down and has a facial expression like she is in a great deal of pain. /End ID]

this might be a minor thing in the grand scheme of the show, but it's still another example of Toph's boundaries about her disability and her access needs being disrespected by her friends, which the show just doesn't acknowledge it at all. People ignoring Toph's wishes about a part of her body she depends on in a much more direct way that others do is played off like a joke in a montage of otherwise enjoyable and goofy activities and this is a very, very common experience in disability circles.

There are a number of other, much more minor issues that show up with Toph as well, such as the fact she's the only one of the main cast who never has an on-screen (or on-page) relationship. not in the original show, not in any of the comics and not in The Legend of Korra. Again, it's not a big issue on it's own, especially because in AtLA, she's young enough where it's possible that she was just not interested yet, and she does have kids in The Legend of Korra where she mentions a relationship with a man named Kanto (Lin's father). So it is implied she does have some form of relationship eventually, but the issue is that it's never shown on screen or on the page. This feeds into a wider pattern in media of disabled characters being the only ones in their respective cast not given on-screen romantic relationships in stories, and so I still think it's worth pointing out, especially since the creators have had a lot of opportunities to correct that by now.

Toph is also portrayed, pretty much undeniably, as the best earthbener in a way that, at times, comes across almost like the creators felt like they need to compensate for her being on the team "despite" her being blind. This trope is one that I think Toph, at least partially, helped to popularise with the current generation of story tellers: The Disabled Savant. In this trope, disabled characters aren't really given the same room for growth as other characters; they aren't permitted to be average or still learning, they start good and get better. If they do progress, they often become the best, which is the case for Toph. To be fair, everyone in the The Gaang is the best at their respective skill by the end of the first series, which is why I say this is a minor point. She dose, however, have the least amount of on-screen growth in skill out of the whole team. Katara starts out barely able to lift any water at all, let alone actually bend it. Sokka is skilled with weapons from the start but does get his butt handed to him a number of times by others with more experience than him whom he learns from throughout his story arc. Zuko spends most of the early-to-middle of the show having things "blow up in his face" (to use his own words) and being belittled by his family of prodigies. While Aang is an airbending and, to a lesser extent, waterbending prodigy, he fails at pretty much everything else for a while before he starts to find his confidence - especially earth and firebending, not to mention the entire situation with locking himself out of the Avatar state. Toph is the only one who doesn't seem to fail or struggle all that much from a combat perspective. She does grow and improve in her bending (she invents metal bending after all) but she never has any moments where she really messes up or even struggles in combat all that much compared to the others.

All of these points and criticisms I've mentioned are not necessarily big in and of themselves, but when looked at together, they build up to create some issues with how Toph is depicted and how the people around her treat her disability

So that's it then? Toph is bad disability rep and Avatar should be "cancelled"?

God no. Like I said at the start, I still adore Toph and Avatar as a whole, but the show is a year away from being two decades old, it's bound to have some elements that don't hold up and I think it's worthwhile discussing them, specifically because I love the show and it's characters. Despite all the negativity I've brought up, I do think there are a lot of things AtLA did well with Toph too.

I've mentioned a few times that we rarely see how Toph's blindness impacts her life outside of her bending and combat abilities, and there's a reason I made that specification. Unsurprisingly, if you know much about the show's development, the ways in which Toph’s blindness and seismic sense impacts her bending and fighting style is one area where the show really does shine, and I still think that is worth a mention. The various types of bending are based on different styles of martial arts, specifically, different types of Kung Fu. Most earthbending in the show takes heavy inspiration specifically from Hung Ga, but Toph is different. Her bending heavily references Southern Praying Mantis Kung Fu, something unique to her within this world.

The reason for this (outside of simply wanting her to be visually distinct) was because the show’s creators made sure to consider what limitations Toph might have and what parts of the more common earthbending styles wouldn't work for her. Since her connection to the earth was critical in order for her seismic sense to work, they decided on a style that would keep her feet on the ground more, prioritised strong stances with minimal jumping and put more focus on attacking with her upper body. While not an intentional choice, the style they went with for Toph, according to the show's head martial arts consultant, Sifu Kisu, was supposedly developed by a blind woman in real life, at least according to legend. The creators also made further adjustments to the style with the help of martial arts consultants and just watching Toph fight is evident that a lot of love and care was put into the decisions made on that front.

I also appreciate that Toph's disability wasn't off-limits to joke about.

[ID: A picture of Toph waving her hand in front of her face with an exaggerated smile to remind the others she's blind. /End ID]

As I already mentioned, they didn't land 100% of the time, but lot of shows are afraid to use disability as a source of jokes, which would have felt weird and out of place in a show like Avatar. I see this hesitance in real-life too; people get extremely uncomfortable when I joke about my own disabilities and I've heard several people and even disabled comedians talk about the same observation. My last video on Tik Tok that got outside my usual audience was a joke about my prosthetic leg, and every single stictch and duet I received was people saying some variation of "I'm such a bad person for laughing!" "I'm going to hell!" or just straight up asking if they're aloud to laugh. If I didn't want you to laugh, I wouldn't have posted the joke! But joking about disability does make it more approachable. Despite how often Toph and the others made blind jokes though, outside of the one instance I mentioned earlier, they never felt mean-spirited or like they were punching down. Even when a very sleep-deprived Katara was intentionally trying to be.

I think it's also worth keeping in mind the context of the media landscape when Avatar The Last Airbender was airing. Today, characters like Toph are very common, so much so there's a whole trope about them (super-crips) but at the time, having a character with a major disability be a main character in an action-orientated kids show like Avatar was really rare. She wasn't the first of course, but a lot of the time, if they were included, they were almost certainly sad and depressed, wishing for a cure or they were designated to the roles of "Guy in the chair" (which is a character, usually a tech person, who helps from the background), inspiration, scary villain fake-out (or other variations of "creepy" character) or the actual villain. Having a character that was not only comfortable in her skin as a disabled person, who didn't want or need to be "fixed" or "cured" to be directly involved in the story, and who's main obstacle (at least in season 2) were how the people around her treated her, was pretty ground-breaking at the time (pun not intended) and went against the most prevalent stereotypes of it's day.

And I really want to emphasise that. For many Millennials and older Gen Zers, myself included, Toph was the first character that didn't tell us we were broken and needed to be fixed in order to be part of the group (even if they slipped up with that messaging occasionally). Prior to seeing Avatar, I honestly thought there was something deeply wrong with me for being happy with my life (a reminder, I was 10 years old when this show first started airing), because every other disabled person in the media only ever talked about how much worse their life was because of their disability, how much they hated it and how much they hated themselves. Many outright said that they wished they had died rather than become like me. Toph wasn't the first to go against those tropes, but she was the first example of a disabled character who wasn't like that many people my age saw. Did she do it perfectly? Hell no, but personally, back then, I was happy to have a character who maybe over-corrected and took things a bit too far than another sad character talking about how lives like mine weren't worth living.

I also deeply appreciated that Toph did struggle with her independence, at least initially, and where to draw the line with accepting help. Because of how much she'd been coddled and overprotected as a little kid, she saw any attempt at people being helpful and working as a team as them trying to baby her. It was very on the nose, but I liked that the show gave her an episode just dedicated to realising that it's ok to accept help. Again, this is a bit of a story telling trope today, but having the disabled character realise that it's ok to accept help, and to do it without talking down to them or saying that them wanting independence was bad, was a refreshing change compared to what was around at the time.

[ID: a zoomed out image of Toph, standing before her parents with Aang, Katara and Sokka standing behind her. /End ID]

While I think the show's creators could have benefited from consulting with disabled people and specifically blind people the same way they brought in consultants for the martial arts featured in the show, it's very clear to me that the intention behind Toph's character was good, and that actual effort was put in to make sure they depicted her well, even if some of it was a bit misplaced. It's also worth noting that the groundwork for a lot of my suggestions is already in place, they just didn't follow it all the way through. Overall, I'd say Toph was good for her time, and she's what was needed in the 2000's, even if she doesn't hold up as well today. I also think it speaks to how far we've come in terms of disability representation. When I first started engaging with the online fandom directly, almost no one, even other disabled people, argued that Toph wasn't good representation, because honestly, the bar was on the floor and we were just happy to have something different. But now there are options, and the standards are higher, and that's so, so good. It means that people, even in the media, are starting to listen and be more thoughtful about their depictions of disability than we were in 2006.

And finally, I want to really quickly mention The Netflix adaptation of Avatar. A few people have asked me now what I think they should do with Toph when they get to her, and what my predictions about the show are. I'm not going to talk about my predictions here, because this post is already way too long and that's not what this is about, but I don't think the suggestions I made today would necessarily work in this particular remake, primarily because of the tonal differences. Some adjustments definitely could, such the other characters doing a better job at listening to Toph when she points out inaccessibility and them actually considering her in the first place, but others might be harder to balance. The original show could get quite dark and serious at times, but it was primarily a light-hearted adventure story for kids. From what I've seen of the live action remake though, they're more heavily leaning into those serious elements - for better or for worse, and as such, trying to tone Toph down in the specific ways I mentioned might not balance out as well as it would in the original show. At the very least, the specifics would need to be different. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what approach they should take, that's not really the point of this post, but I did want to quickly address it to avoid confusion. My suggestions today were specifically on how to approach the cartoon version of Toph for a modern audience, and were not meant to be read as suggestions on how her live-action counterpart should be depicted.

[floshav]

part 2 to my last rodrick fic which u can read here !

part 3 out now !

summary: Rodrick proves his likeness for y/n through a spontaneous kiss leaving her smitten and dazed. However, thoughts of Heather still lingered in her mind, constantly being reminded of the blonde girl whenever she passed by. "Does Rodrick still like her?" "Does he even like me?" What happens when Heather suddenly takes interest in Rodrick after ignoring him for years just because she can't let y/n get what she wants.

wc: 2k plus

warnings: allusions to smut, heavy make out

2 weeks later...

the kiss, no not just the kiss but the two kisses rodrick and y/n shared that night resulted in their relationship. She had been left smitten and the feeling was one of those that even if you wanted to forget, you couldn't. The heart racing, blush inducing feeling of getting kissed on by rodrick the boy she'd been crushing on for years, with his rough boy lips which still managed to be soft and plush because well, he was Rodrick after all.

It was now a plain old Monday and she was lost daydreaming in her Calculus class, or was it english? She couldn't bother to take notice.

"Alright, take out your calculators and flip to page 56. We'll be grinding through the workbook today class!" Ms. Smith yelled whilst her big buggy glasses fell down the tip of her nose bridge, stopped by her finger which shoved them back in place. Y/n couldn't care less. Her mind was swarmed with what happened 2 weeks ago.

His lips grazed hers one more time, this time softer and one might say more lovingly if she was in a state of delirium. She felt his slender hand creep up the side of her hip brushing it against her shirt so so gently. He broke off the kiss and his face was so close to hers she felt as if she might faint right then and there. The boy who was rough, impatient and borderline rude crumbled in-front of her. She'd never seen Rodrick like this before. Each freckle, each fine line, each perfect imperfection visible to her now. She'd imagined this image thousands of times before, but never had she imagined it to come true. Rodrick hesitated before saying his next words "I- I really like you y/n. And- and i just want to set that clear before you try showing up to my house drunk silly again. You were being so wreck less you know that?" He chuckled dorky-ly ever so slightly which made her heart pound just a little harder. Her heart fluttered at how he cared for her.

"M'sorry I-i just, m'just so jealous." She slurred as her eyes began to tear up with a mix of happiness, jealousy, anger and most of all, sadness. "Why? You know i'm here for you and you only, stupid." Rodrick whispered so softly against her lips but y/n's mind swarmed with confusion. "B-but you always *hiccup* talk about Heather." She sighed as she let herself fall into her hands. "Makes it *hiccup* hard to believe" She said again. "I-" He moves further back and a familiar ache rises to her chest, one of abandonment. "She was just someone I was infatuated in. Nothing more. Fuck. If i really liked her, would i have kissed you back? Let alone kiss you again?" He said making eye contact this time. He looked absolutely illegal. The way his hair was his usual mess, his blown out eyeliner smudged beneath his fox eyes. His puffy lips. Everything about him made her feel unreasonably hot in the cool weather. "S-so no more feelings for her?" "No. no more." he said so seriously it made her scared. "In fact, she's an asshole and i don't want any part of her in my life." He said whilst memories of what Heather did earlier fled his mind. Rodrick plants a kiss at the corner of y/n's lips and this time she knows it was meant lovingly. Still, at the back of her mind, the one aching question lingered, didn't he say he loved her?

"Y/n?" "Ms y/n?" She blinked and the memory was interrupted by an annoying voice. "Do you care to open your workbook? Or do you intend on staring at the cover for the next hour?" Ms Smith's breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck waking her from her daydreams of what happened that hazy night.

"Yea, sorry ms smith." She smiled tightly before flipping to page 66 or 57 the page number was was a blur to her, but an open book would do.

He planted a soft kiss at the crook of her neck.

suddenly her mind wandered to what happened later that night.

Hand riding up under her shirt. "is this okay?" His voice was earnest and soft against the skin of her neck.

her thighs clenched together unintentionally and she felt ashamed for imaging such lewd things. She'd been daydreaming about that night for the past few weeks. Each week making her crave for more until she felt sick. Rodrick hadn't made a move like that on her ever since, and she was just too shy to even ask so images in her mind would do for now.

He unclasped her bra in one swift motion and it made her question if he'd done this before, with... Heather? No, can't be, she doesn't even care for him. Right?

The kissing started to turn into making out and y/n felt his breathing falter when she brushed her pinky against his crotch by accident.

"Fuck do you even know what you're doing right now-"

"Ms. y/l/n!" Just as quickly as it started, her daydreaming had come to a halt.

"I've been calling your name for the past 5 minutes. Care to share your answer to the whole class? I assume you didn't even hear the question number i gave you. Number 5! Now." Ms. Smith tried to hush her yelling down to be more precarious.

"Sorry Ms." Y/n sighed before making her way to the black board with a dumb empty mind filled with Rodrick.

------------------

The same could be said about Rodrick. His usual sleepiness that was met with classes vanished ever since that night. Instead of sleeping, he was putting his pretty dumb brain to use by thinking. Thinking about y/n. Every night, everyday, every moment. He'd be lying if he said that she was the only girl he'd ever gained feelings for, because Heather Hills did exist. But it was true when he said he didn't like her anymore.

"Mmm- Aaah- R-rodrick p-please not my neck."

"Shhh, just one more kiss y/n, please."

"F-fuck!"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUC-"

Before Rodrick's dream could get any steamier he was awoken to the sound of Heather cursing just beside him, clearly to get someone's attention.

"FUCK! how am i going to do this!!!" Heathers voice was painfully exaggerated and Rodrick couldn't help but cringe. Was this the girl he was smitten by before?

"Oh- Hey Roddy!" Heather smirked as she twisted her body to face him.

Rodrick's head was rested on his arm and he couldn't help but look at her with dead eyes, clearly annoyed.

"You.... you play the drums right?"

"Mmm" Rodrick groaned as he scratched his temple, he was surprised at how much he didn't care for THE Heathers presence anymore.

"Was wondering if.... You'd wanna play a gig at my birthday party?"

Rodrick's eyes lit up. A gig? That was a once in a blue moon occasion to rodrick's ears. But reality struck him when he remembered it was Heather who was asking.

"Mmm sorry Heather, don't think i can." Though it ached him to decline the gig, he knew you wouldn't like it so he sucked it up. Rodrick felt a sense of pride when he realised he didn't stumble over his words around her anymore.

"Awwww but why! I'll pay you 50 bucks an hour, and you know my parties last long." She feigned a girly voice as she batted her long eyelashes which icked Rodrick out.

50 bucks an hour..... The offer was tempting but, you were even more tempting.

Before Rodrick could answer, you walked in the class with a goofy smile, ready to see your Rodrick with..... Heather.

Heather shot back daggers through a fake soft smile. The type she'd give to a teacher after almost being caught doing something.

"Oh... Hello there y/n! Sorry, Rodrick was just telling me about how he'd love to play drums at my party. Isn't that right Rodrick?"

"Wh- No?" Rodrick scoffed out, eyes squinting at the mischievous blue eyed blonde.

"Oh c'mon, don't lie to y/n just because you pity her! You're a man! Act like one." Heather said as she got up from her chair slightly agitated at the fact Rodrick didn't play along.

"See you there Roddy." Heather said before smirking and popping out her ass dramatically.

roddy... That nickname made y/n's blood boil and she never wanted to hear it again.

"I swear! I-I did not agree to any of the shit she just yapped about." Rodrick panicked whilst stumbling over his words like a nervous teenager, that familiar feeling rising again but this time towards y/n.

"Hard to believe Rodrick. Or should i say Roddy... God! i shouldnt have been so naive. I'm so stupid! I thought you were over her." Y/n lashed out before storming out the classroom in a hurry, not thinking straight.

"Wait! Fuck. That fucking bitch Heather." Rodrick sighed out as he reached for the class door.

You found yourself slanting against a crusty brick wall beside a half broken vending machine. You don't know why you overreacted so fast without even bothering to hear Rodrick's explanation but maybe it was because you were so stupidly insecure. You quickly fumbled around your pants pockets to find an old packet of ciggs you remembered you left there. There were 2 left so you lit one up and breathed in the pure comfort. It felt nice to not care just for a second with the cigarette around. When it could have gotten more peaceful you heard a set of obnoxious dorky feet approach you.

"Hey." Rodrick said lightly as he squatted down to your eye level, lanky hands hanging by each sides of his knees.

It made you jump a little and your facade of wanting to remain mad slowly revealed itself. You couldn't help but suppress a tight smile from leaking out.

"What" You said as you blew a whiff of smoke away from his face. His heart fluttered at the small gesture.

"I really did not agree to what Heather told you." He said seriously which was a rare look on Rodrick.

"Are you sure? Cuz it seems like you two are getting along just fine" Y/n sighed as she pushed her hair back, Rodrick's heart beat pounding harder by the second.

"Please, believe me I- I really did not agree to anything, I-I really want you to believe me please." Rodrick was pleading which was something she only saw when he was lovesick. At that moment she knew he couldn't harm her emotionally.

"Alright. Fine, I believe you." Y/n said with a tired voice, though deep down she was glad she could read Rodrick like an open book.

"Im so sorry." Rodrick sighs before nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck, still a nervous wreck whenever he handled her.

She releases her cig and reaches in to hug him back tightly and lovingly before breathing in the intoxicating scent of him. Far better than a cig.

Just around the corner was a cheeky little Heather, listening in to every single decibel of the convo. Heather tightly rolled her eyes and scoffed before it turned into a smirk. Something clicked in her head. She knew what she had to do.

She was going to fake it till she made it.

---------------------------

lol i feel like this story deserves a pt3 so if this does well i will continue it! I know this has been a long times worth of progress but i've been procrastinating writing like crazy lately and i've only started getting back into it. Anyway please do request because i'm always bored and free !

[jweekgoji]

Yandere!Five/Reader (platonic/headcanons)

the story contains: spoilers for season 4 (+ some changes in plot), yandere!five(-s), strictly platonic, five here is in his 20s (physically) and in his late 60s (mentally), overprotective old man five, soft yan!Five, OOC cuz it's yanderes 🤷

I really like to imagine Five being overprotective over someone young and still full of joy. You can be either a kid of one of his siblings, or just a random child he found during his time in The Commission. It wouldn't be that far away from reality, The Handler took little Lila and trained her to do the dirty job, no one would be surprised if that creepy woman ends up kidnapping another child born on October 1st for herself.

Either way, Five is a good familial figure. We all saw how he acts towards little Grace, making small cheering comments from time to time to his niece when she is enjoying her birthday party. I expect him to be much softer if it's someone who is always close to him and constantly tags along with Five. Let's say, he knows you enough to let you go with him at the end of Season 3, since all of his siblings left, he basically has no other choice but to be the only one who has to protect you.

At first, he might get a little irritated because of it. It's not because he finds you annoying or hates being around kids. The problem is, he is not a social person himself. He never had a proper childhood because he spent 45 years stuck in the apocalypse. Then his time in The Commission, stuck with people either invading his personal space, or always staring at him due to him being him. The man got no time for a good rest. He also got no experience in how he should take care of a kid.

Despite a good bag of problems on his back, like the fact that he is still considered a child himself because of his appearance, no job, no money, no place to stay, he somehow gets everything you need. It would probably cost him a lot of pride to sacrifice, people constantly saying «Aww, are you looking after your little sibling at such age? Where are your parents?» makes him want to say something snarky, but he would bite his tongue, since he doesn't want people to ask more questions. He is used to doing everything on his own, dealing with every trouble by no one but himself because it's how he got things done for ages. Not so surprising, Five is pretty good at it.

When he gets his job as a CIA agent, he does not get so much time to be with you, he's more busy even though he is «the one of the professional young agents», trying to investigate more and more. But I believe that he would absolutely think about you during his work, he would go nonchalantly in his mind «Should I buy them the cereal with that dumb colourful toy inside? No, that stuff has too much sugar for someone their age—», which is pretty ironic since Five has a little sweet tooth himself, knowing his famous toasts with peanut butter and marshmallows. He doesn't give you a chance to eat that stuff too much anyways, because he believes « You'll get to eat those when you grow older», while you probably pout and tug on his clothes, trying to make him share with you this tasty sweet thing with tons of deadly sugar! He will give up after a good 15 minutes of you jumping around, being noisy and whiney, so he would roll his eyes and give you like less than 1/3 of the toast, saying 'here is your half, happy now?🙄'. At least he managed to keep you quiet for some time, while he can focus on some little time of his rest.

Five wants you to be independent just like him. Mainly because he doesn't want to think about potential scenarios where you are without him, all defenseless and have no idea what to do. He will teach you everything, how to protect yourself, how to use the oven, who you should call immediately if something happens (he will probably write a phone number with a marker on your wrist, since kids tend to be forgetful and easily distracted and he does NOT take such a risk).

But Five would never push or press on you, he doesn't want to make another child assassin with childhood trauma, think of it as a grandfather taking you to the lake to teach you how to fish. He is constantly near your side, guiding gently but firmly, to you it's mostly about having fun but also learning new things. Five will praise you, give you some advice and will pet your head if you do something right. I do believe he is overprotective, that he doesn't want to even let you near anything dangerous, but he's also paranoid that if another apocalypse comes back, you should be able to survive.

When Five gets his powers back and reunites with his siblings, you will always be with him. Of course I can imagine him having a nanny to call so you would be away from all his family stuff and there is someone whom he can trust enough, but...he might trust himself more than anyone else (but also it's more interesting for the story than you being somewhere away from all the fun lol). When weird things start to happen, Five is looking for anyone even slightly suspicious. Why is this Elf Guy looking at him? Is that guy looking at YOU ? Stop looking at his kid!

Thankfully for him, you weren't around when Lila and Five stuck in that subway. But instead of spending years here, giving up on the idea of coming back home, that would never happen. Because come on, it's Five. He would never give up on coming back to his family and you, someone he also considers as a part of his family. Maybe they're not ideal, they might hate each other, sometimes even annoy him, but he would never allow himself at least a single minute of proper rest since he believes that his only priority is to come back to people he cares about.

The moment he finds the notes on how to come back, he will do it in an instant. When he sees his family safe - he is happy, even though he would hide his inner feelings. You're a little confused when he just hugs you tightly to his chest all of the sudden, sighing in relief the moment he realizes you're with him. Still the same little you, not a single change in your appearance. « Something happened?» you ask softly, carefully placing your arms around him. for some reason, it feels weird. he was never a person who could hug you just because he feels like it. the only time he might give you that it's only if you initiate it, needing comfort because you were afraid of storm or just woke up from the nightmare. « No, no, just stay like that for a little bit,» Five whispers, trying to calm his racing heart. he's thankful that this body at least can take all the stress he constantly experiences in his life. you are probably surprised and confused but he doesn't care about it now. he just came back to you after years of being apart. at least for him it was, for you — a few hours. Despite how unusual it makes you feel, you don't question it, you will give him all the comfort he deserves after whatever he went through.

A good happy ending we deserve would probably be Five (accidentally) taking you to this buffet full of his other versions. You're probably so shy and awkward to see all of them, so you stick closer to him, holding his hand. Five is a little more protective too, he doesn't trust his other selves as we know. I can imagine a little you being so scared to even make a single move, because the moment you look away, you might get lost! Is that your Five? Or is it the one who's near the other table? Why is that Five drunk? When did he find the apron?? But all of them are very nice to you. Five who works as a waiter would gladly help you to find your guardian and maybe he'll spoil you with food they serve here— Your Five is definitely not happy with how much attention you gain from.. other versions of him, but he knows that they all care the same of you.

[aquaquadrant]

Philophobia

Word Count: 5,271 Warnings: Shipping, inappropriate/crude humor, paranormal activity, suspense/mild horror, descriptive kissing, mild language Summary: For architecture major and paranormal skeptic Grian, his friends’ after-hours ghost hunting group was just an excuse to spend time with his crush, Scar, without having to actually ask him out. But one fateful night, he finds there just might be things in this world that are scarier than emotional vulnerability… even if only by a very slim margin.

A/N: Did someone ask for a Phasmophobia-inspired Scarian au? Oh yeah, my friend @lunarcrown did! Inspired by the art she made here.

So this is kind of a modern-day college au (not set within the fictional universe of Minecraft), howEVER there are some fantasy aspects in that non-human species (like mob hybrids/monsters) still exist cuz they’re fun and I’m not giving anyone a normal modern name cuz that’s too weird. This is only Phasmophobia-inspired in that GIGS have a ghost-hunting group that functions the same way, but rarely find any conclusive evidence, and don’t have unlimited lives cuz they aren’t playing a game. With that out of the way, hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

Philophobia

~*~

“I think this is gonna be the one, guys,” Impulse says, turning their van into the driveway.

The suspension creaks as they roll over gravel, rattling the frame in a way that hums through Grian’s hollow bones. His arm is cold where it presses against the window; it’s almost sunset and Impulse has yet to get the van’s heater fixed despite his promises. Stupid demon blood keeping him warm while Grian shivers in the stupid custom pleather jumpsuit that Scar insisted they had made, for their stupid ‘brand’ as a stupid ghost-hunting group. Great, his stupid zipper’s come down again- he stubbornly zips it back up because unlike Scar, he doesn’t like constantly having his bare chest out on display.

Of course, he hasn’t got as much to show off as Scar, who must be getting up at 3 am every morning to work out in order to maintain all that muscle. No wonder Scar prefers to keep his zipper down to his belly button, and doesn’t seem to have ever met a shirt that fits him properly.

… Not that Grian’s ever paid much attention to that sort of thing. 

Grian gives an exasperated sigh. “You’ve been saying that about every case we’ve had for three years!”

“No, no, I really mean it!” Impulse insists. “I feel it in my bones.”

“Yeah,” Scar agrees, leaning forward so his shoulder brushes against Grian’s, “you know Impulse bones good!”

The earnest nature of his statement- and the unexpected physical contact- makes Grian flush. “Scar!” he shrieks, swatting Scar’s shoulder.

“What?” Scar defends. “What, he- he’s got big and strong bones, wonderful bones…”

He acts as if he’s got no idea he said something that could be taken the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the upturned corners of his mouth and the barely-restrained laugh in his voice, Grian might actually believe him.

“Dude,” Skizz chuckles from the front seat, “shut up, that’s awesome.”

Impulse sighs. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “the place recently had a change in ownership. Previous owner passed away-”

“From murder?” Scar gasps.

Another sigh. “No, from liver failure.”

Grian snorts. “From all the drinking he did to forget about the ghostly hauntings?” he presses, exchanging a cheeky grin with Scar.

“No,” Impulse says, with the patience of a saint, “just normal old-age organ failure. The guy was ancient, and some kinda recluse. House had been in his family since it was built, but uh, he had no living relatives, no will when he died. So the bank took ownership and it’s been sitting off-market for like, fifteen years, til some hot-shot investor thought he could flip it-”

“Ughh,” Grian groans, tipping his head back against the seat. “Investors are the worst-”

“I know, I know,” Impulse soothes, “but um, he’d barely begun when things started happening. Contractors reported it day one, then the owner experienced an event himself and called us. So it’s basically still untouched.”

They haven’t even reached the end of the driveway yet, passing by seemingly endless rows of tall, gnarled pines. Admittedly, Grian’s curiosity is piqued. When he agreed to join this stupid ghost hunting group three years ago, he didn’t do so in the hopes of actually discovering any real paranormal activity. The whole idea is laughable. Ghost hunting is a pseudoscience, at best. Just a bunch of idiots scaring themselves silly in an empty house- and now they’re the idiots! Even their name is stupid: Ghost Investigation Group Services, or GIGS, embroidered on their ill-fitting pleather jumpsuits.

But despite his outright skepticism and dislike for pulling late nights in his already extremely limited free time, Grian’s got one very good reason for agreeing to join.

And his name is Scar.

Grian spent half a semester pining away at the fellow architecture major from across the lecture halls of their many shared classes. Charismatic and easy on the eyes, it was inevitable that Grian would develop a bit of a crush. But as they spent more time together during class projects and conversations in the hallway, he found out just how kind-hearted and passionate Scar was, and how easy he was to talk to, and how strong his arms looked in long-sleeved shirts…

… Yeah, ‘crush’ perhaps isn’t the right word.

So when Impulse- the engineering major who Grian was partnered with for physics lab- got the brilliant idea to start a ghost-hunting group with his best friend and roommate Skizz, and Scar expressed interest in joining, Grian made a split-second decision in a moment of weakness. He maintained his skepticism, claiming that he wanted to tag along just to prove how silly the whole idea was. Impulse was fine with it, while Scar said Grian had to wear the same uniform as them, and the rest was history.

(To be fair, that was before Grian knew it’d be a pleather jumpsuit.)

So here they are now nearly three years later, rumbling down a long gravel road in the dark and cold, up late on a Saturday night even though he still isn’t finished with his condominium model that’s due at 8 am on Monday and he’s fresh out of popsicle sticks. Moments like these almost make Grian wish he could just ask a guy out like a normal person, so they could spend time together without chasing pretend ghosts around dusty houses all night.

But that’d require him to talk about his feelings. Ugh, he’d rather let the ghosts get him.

“Alright.” Impulse slows the van to a halt. The doors unlock with a heavy clunk. “What do you guys think?”

Grian isn’t expecting much when he glances out the window. But the sight that greets him immediately prompts a hasty exit from the vehicle, scarcely noticing the sudden chill, his jaw dropping open in awe.

It’s a Victorian. Not a house that someone has mistakenly called ‘Victorian’ just because it looks old. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, Queen Anne’s style two-story Victorian manor with an asymmetrical facade and a rounded corner tower and a generous wrap-around porch, silhouetted against the fading light of the evening sky.

Grian reaches for his flashlight. Sweeping over the exterior, his breath catches. Knots of ivy creep up the walls, and there are a few places where the intricate wood trim has been lost to previous repairs and weather damage. A couple of the windows are bricked up. Most of the paint is faded and peeling. But overall? It’s beautiful.

“Oh man,” Grian murmurs, pushing his glasses back up, “look at the shape of it... look at the dormers!”

A second beam of light joins in; Scar’s emerged from the van. “Lots of character,” he says, sounding similarly entranced. “And still in great condition! Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s enough to make a man cry.”

Impulse hops out of the driver’s seat, chuckling. “I knew you two would like it. It’s an ‘85.”

Grian gives an appreciative whistle. “Look, I still don’t think we’re gonna find anythin’,” he says with a sideways look at Scar, “but I gotta tell ya… if- if I were a ghost… I think I’d haunt a proper house like this. Not those builder-grade boxes in the suburbs.”

“Right?” Impulse says, his forked tail flicking through the air. “That’s what I’m sayin’... I uh, I think this place has real potential.”

Skizz, who’s come around the van to stand with them, nods thoughtfully. “Definitely somethin’ special ‘bout it, that’s for true,” he says, exchanging a look with Impulse. Then he claps his hands together. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get movin’!”

Impulse and Skizz turn towards the van, heading to open the back.

Grian stares after them, squinting suspiciously. That wasn’t just any look. That was a Look. A Look that he knows all too well. They had that same Look on their faces at last year’s frat mixer, when they rigged the speakers at the Heta Kappa house to play ‘Margaritaville’ every time someone flushed a toilet.

It means that they’re Up To Something.

… Grian’s sure he’ll find out sooner or later.

“Well, Grian,” Scar says, hands on his hips as he surveys the property, “if it’s any connotation, at least we’ll get to study some real architecture tonight.”

Grian gives him a bemused look. “Consolation?”

Scar blinks. “Cono- what, what’d I say? Con- coronation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ey,” Grian chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

~*~

“Check it out, dude,” Skizz calls excitedly, “temp’s dropping in here! Five degrees colder than the rest of the house!”

Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s an east-facing room and the sun’s only just set, of course it’s colder than the rest of the house,” he says, idly passing his UV glow stick over an armchair. No prints, of course. “I doubt they’ve updated the insulation anytime within the last two decades.”

“And hey, look,” Impulse chimes in from the corner, “I’ve got EMF 1.3!”

Grian doesn’t even look up. “There’s an exposed outlet in here and I’ll bet the wiring’s older than I am. And in any case, it’s still below the recommended threshold.” Ew, okay, now that’s a suspicious UV stain on the floor, but not of the supernatural kind…

“Oh, it’s definitely not up to code,” Impulse agrees. He waves his EMF reader around a bit, making the pitch warble. “But I dunno, I think this must be the ghost’s favorite room. Might not be here right now, but I’m getting some real vibes…”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Sure…” 

Twenty minutes in, and despite the house’s hauntingly elegant construction, it’s been the same old story. The house is empty and quiet, as abandoned houses tend to be. Quite sparse, as most of the furnishings probably went to auction. The furniture that’s left is covered with tarps and every surface is coated with a fine layer of dust. He can smell mold somewhere in the floorboards and there’s apparent water damage in the ceiling.

The only renovation attempted thus far was the removal of some cheap linoleum tiles that were laid in the kitchen at some point- a renovation Grian can heartily agree with, there’s some absolutely gorgeous hardwood underneath- but they didn’t get far. The removed tiles are still sitting about in a haphazard pile, hammer and chisel abandoned on the floor beside them. Frantic footsteps smeared in the dust and powder paint the scene of a terrified contractor fleeing for their life from the reported ‘ghostly hauntings’. 

In any case, they haven’t heard any activity from the spirit box, nothing unusual has stood out on UV, and the salt Impulse laid out is still undisturbed. Surprise, surprise. Grian’s spent most of his time admiring the elaborate wooden trims lining every wall, scuffed as they are. What he wouldn’t give to properly restore this place…

“Hey, Dipple Dop?” Skizz calls suddenly. “Your radio working okay?”

Impulse gives him a curious look. “Huh? What, is there-” He pauses, glancing down at his radio. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, actually, mine’s on the fritz, must be overdue a battery change.”

“Oh?” Grian tilts his head innocently. “You don’t think it’s a ghoooost?”

Impulse purses his lips. “I don’t think everything is a ghost,” he says mildly. He clips the radio onto his belt, turning to the door. “I’ve got extras in the van, hang on…”

“I’ll go, too,” Skizz says quickly, slinging an arm and his wing around Impulse’s shoulders. “Buddy system! You know what, I- I’m tellin’ you, you never split up when hunting ghosts. That’s how they get you, dude.”

Oh. Oh, no.

Grian gives them a warning Look.

They give him a cheeky Look back.

“Yup, yeah, that’s true,” Impulse says with obvious feigned sincerity, steering Skizz out of the room. “So uh, you two keep at it, okay, and we’ll be right back…”

“Oh, okay!” Scar says cheerfully, busy setting up the tripod over in the corner and completely oblivious to their scheme. “Have a great time not getting murdered!”

Grian opens his mouth to protest, but Impulse and Skizz are already gone out the front door. Leaving him and Scar completely alone. Totally by coincidence, surely. Oh, he knew his drunken confession to Impulse at the school’s annual bar crawl fundraiser night would come back to bite him eventually.

It’s almost insulting, in a way. Like they think the only reason Grian hasn’t made a move is because he hasn’t had ample alone time with Scar. Like he needed them to give him an opportunity. But if he’d wanted to confess to Scar, he already would have. He’d have had it well done by now. They could give him a little credit.

See, the thing is, he’s thought about it. Plenty of times, in fact. But the issue he keeps coming back to is that if he tells Scar about his crush on him, then Scar will know about it. There’ll be no going back at that point. And if Scar doesn’t feel the same way- well, Grian can kiss their friendship goodbye. So yeah, no, he doesn’t think he’ll be making any dramatic love confessions tonight, strangely enough.

The risk of an awkward silence developing is astronomical, so Grian clears his throat. “Man… isn’t this place somethin’,” he says, then immediately fights the urge to cringe.

Scar, luckily, gives an emphatic nod. “It is, it truly is amazing.” He straightens up, dusting his hands off as he turns to Grian. “You know who’d really love this place, is Gem?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Grian agrees. He busies himself with the UV, so he’s not just standing around. “We should take some pictures for her.”

“Oh, good idea!” Giving the tripod a final once-over, Scar wanders over to Grian. “So, any fingering goin’ on, yet?”

Grian nearly drops his glow stick. “Sorry- any what?!” he screeches, whirling around on Scar.

“You know, ghost fingers!” Scar says, perfectly innocent. He holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers in demonstration. “On the- on the glowy light?”

Grian takes a deep breath, face burning. “Oh Scar, buddy, you gotta think through your words better before you say them, alright?”

“Whaaat?” Scar pretends like he doesn’t know. “What, I’m just- you’ve got the stick, you know, little glow stick for when the ghost touches, uh-”

“Nevermind,” Grian groans. “Anyways, no, I haven’t found any ghostly handprints and I never will, because ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar folds his arms. “Well, hey, maybe the ghost is just polite! You know, he- maybe he’s just minding his business, not touching anything or- or anyone. Just because we don’t get anything on UV doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real, I’ll have you know.”

Grian sees the challenge for what it is. “Alright…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his spirit box. Holding the transponder to his lips, he belts out, “Where ahhre yewww?” in his best imitation of an over-exaggerated pop-punk accent. If Impulse and Skizz are eavesdropping through their radios, he hopes he gave them a start.

Scar laughs. “Oh man, been a while since I heard that one! You-”

I’m close.

Grian jumps so badly he nearly drops the box, his wings puffing out involuntarily. “What?! Wha- who said that?” he demands, spinning around.

Scar blinks at him. “What? Did you hear something through the box?”

“I- I dunno?” Grian says uncertainly. The box seems to be working as normal; when he holds the receiver down, there’s a faint hiss of static, and the bulb remains white. No further noises come from the speaker.

After a couple seconds of tense listening, Grian feels silly. Way to play it cool. He switches the box off with an exasperated sigh. “No, of course I didn’t hear anything through the box. Like I said, ghosts aren’t real.”

Scar hums noncommittally. “Oh, Grian... you know, there are some things in the world that can’t be explained.” 

Grian snorts. “Oh, yeah? Well, I- I got a few explanations for ya.” He counts on his fingers. “It could’ve been this old house creaking in the wind, or an electrical surge causing feedback through the transponder, or- or, not to mention, Impulse and Skizz pranking us through the radio?”

Scar snickers. “That does sound like something they’d do, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah.” Grian slips the box back into his pocket. “And y’know, being in a creepy abandoned house, after dark, out in the middle’a nowhere... it’s easy to think you’re hearin’ things.”

Scar rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. “I know, I know, so you’ve told me. But one of these days, mister, you’re gonna eat your words.”

“Right,” Grian drawls. “I’m so scared…”

The front door slams shut.

That makes Grian pause. They always leave the front door open while out on a job. It saves time when they have to go back and forth from the van, and saves battery life on their radios when they can just shout to each other through the open doorway. Obviously this job is a little different, because Impulse and Skizz have clearly got it in their heads to try and get him and Scar together, but he wouldn’t think they’d go so far as to-

The lights suddenly flicker and go out. But in the split-second before they do, Grian sees a shadowy figure silhouetted against the door.

Pure instinct takes over. Grian spins on his heel, grabs Scar by the arm, and absolutely flies down the stairs to the basement. He knows they’ve disturbed one or two piles of salt but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. His wings are bumping against the walls and he’s certainly never tried carrying someone as big as Scar before but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even process the ache of it rattling through his body. He bursts into the basement, feathers flying, and careens towards the back of the room, around a tall shelving unit, and into the corner.

There’s a heap of boxes stacked up in this corner; Grian unceremoniously shoves Scar over top of them, dropping him in the narrow space between the boxes and the wall. He’s wedged in as far as he can himself, laying across the boxes, his double pair of wings preventing him from squeezing in beside Scar. He’s still got the UV light clenched in his fist, he realizes belatedly- he braces his forearms against the wall to try and cover it, fanning his wings out behind him to block it out from the rest of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he tries to gauge how much light is getting through when a noise makes him freeze.

Footsteps.

They’re soft and light- certainly not the heavy boots of Impulse or Skizz. No, they sound almost barefoot. And as they gently tap down the stairs, the sound of giggling fills the air. It’s a feminine voice. Young, like a child. Like a little ghostie girl is prancing down the stairs to murder them.

Grian thinks he might pass out. Can ghosts actually kill people? How would they do it if they’re incorporeal? He’s never considered the question before, he never thought he’d have to because it’s ridiculous, ghosts aren’t real, of course they can’t kill people-

The footsteps stop. 

Grian isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. He doesn’t dare move. A chill runs up his spine, making every single feather stand on end. He can almost hear the high-pitched violins that would be playing right now if this were a horror movie; the cheesy, overdrawn kind of horror movies that are always playing at the drive-in that the four of them watch while piled into the back of the van in a tangle of limbs and spilled popcorn and oh god he’s spiraling now because he’s about to be killed by a ghost-

Bye-bye!

The chill recedes. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees the faint glow of light from upstairs return.

It’s over.

Grian’s mind is spinning. What was that? What was that? It seems impossible, it doesn’t even feel real to be in this situation right now but he is, there was a ghost, there was a ghost. It feels insane to even think it. But the residual adrenaline coursing through his body reminds him it was very real, he just encountered a ghost.

A ghost! Oh, after three years of very loudly decrying the entire concept as rubbish. He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it, this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen tonight. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are really, really, real. He doesn’t know what to do, who would ever believe him? Is this how the others have been feeling this whole time? God, he can’t believe this-

“G...?” Scar’s voice pipes up hesitantly. “What... what are we doing?”

Oh, right. Grian glances down at Scar- and his heart jolts. He’d been so focused on getting away from the ghost, he’d acted without thinking, so only now does he realize the... predicament he’s put them in.

Scar’s slumped against the floor beneath him, head tucked just below Grian’s arms. His long legs are still draped over the box that Grian’s laying across, resting on either side of his waist. And due to the odd posture Grian’s in, his chest has been thrust rather close to Scar’s face, lit by the soft purple glow of the UV.

This is probably the closest Grian has ever been to sitting in Scar’s lap.

Grian’s not proud of the yelp that escapes him. “Sorry, sorry!” His wings flail as he struggles to push himself off of the wall, stumbling back onto his feet. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and he nearly falls backwards, his heart pounding.

Scar manages a laugh, easing himself up off the floor. “No, no, it’s okay, I- I just... what- why’d you bring us down here?” he asks, dusting off his jumpsuit.

Grian catches his breath. “Wait, you... didn’t hear the creepy ghost on its way to kill us?” he asks, frowning.

Scar‘s eyes widen. “What? There was a ghost?”

No way.

“Are you-!” Grian throws his arms up. “Honestly, I- I know avians have better hearing than most but that’s insane. She was laughing! Laughing and skipping down the blumin’ steps! And you didn’t hear any of it?”

“No…?” Scar shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, okay! I- I don’t know, I was- a lot was happening, you- you’re grabbin’ me, pulling me down the stairs and into this little corner, I didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t know, I- I was all disconbodulated- disco- bobo, bobumated? I was a little distracted, okay. Jeeze, give a man a break…”

“Distracted?” Grian repeats incredulously. “You’re the one who actually believes in ghosts, here, how could you get distracted? What do you…”

He trails off. Scar is very clearly fighting to avoid looking at Grian, but for the briefest moment, his eyes dart down to Grian’s chest. Suddenly confused, Grian follows his gaze, and-

Oh, for goodness sakes. At some point during his frantic flight, the stupid zipper on his stupid jumpsuit came down again, exposing a frankly scandalous amount of skin. Not Scar-level of scandalous, but pretty close.

Grian immediately feels himself turn red. “Oh. Uh- right,” he hastily pulls the zipper back up, “sorry ‘bout that…”

Wait. Wait just a second. 

Scar was distracted from a literal ghost hunt going on... because Grian’s bare chest was showing? Does that... does that mean he liked it? 

Scar’s avoiding his gaze again. His cheeks are tinted pink.

“Scar...?” Grian ventures carefully. “Were you... lookin’ at my chest?”

Scar’s cheeks darken. “Ah, I- I- don’t- I mean, why would you- I didn’t mean to, it’s just...” He fumbles for the words. “What- what am I- hey, your pecs were basically in my face! I wasn’t trying to look, I- I just-”

“Scar,” Grian says, keeping his voice light and teasing, “did ya… did you like what you saw?”

Scar splutters for a moment. “Well, sure, Grian,” he tries to laugh it off, “I mean, anyone- anyone with eyes can see you’re uh, you know, you’re- you’re pretty attractive. I- I’m secure enough to say it, I don’t care, it’s- sure, of course, you’re very muscular! You’re a- you’re a muscular man, it’s just not always obvious with the sweaters you wear. Or- sorry, you call them jumpers in Britain land, right, they’re jumpers-”

“You been checkin’ me out, Scar?” Grian asks, caught somewhere between playfulness and utter disbelief.

“Uh...” Scar rubs the back of his neck. He exhales slowly, clearly debating with himself. “I... maybe? What... what would you say... if that were the case?”

Grian swallows. His heart is absolutely racing now, and he’s broken into a cold sweat that’s definitely not supernatural in origin. The air between them feels fragile; he’s acutely aware that a single word from him could swiftly plunge them back into the realm of safe familiarity, of casual light-hearted teasing between friends. Scar’s always said things that bordered on the flirtatious, and Grian can hide behind the plausible deniability of teasing. This entire interaction doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be easily moved past and forgotten.

And yet, strangely enough… Grian doesn’t want it to. Maybe it’s the post-haunting adrenaline or the fact that he could’ve died tonight, but all of a sudden, he feels like taking a chance. Like he could finally say what he’s wanted to say for the last three years. He managed to hold his own against a blumin’ ghost, for goodness sakes- he should be able to face his own feelings head on.

He takes a breath. “I’d say that’s a relief… ‘cause I’ve been checkin’ you out since day one of first year.”

Scar stares at him for a long moment. His expression is utterly unreadable. The silence draws on long enough that Grian feels a spike of panic, worried that maybe he’s mishandled the situation-

 “... oh my god,” Scar says finally. “Really?”

It sounds like the good kind of surprise. Grian offers a shy smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he admits. “I- Scar, I know I’m real good at playin’ these things close to the vest, but uh, I- I’ve had a massive crush on you since... basically since the day we met.”

“Huh.” Scar blinks. “You’re serious. You- you’re not pranking me right now?”

That startles a laugh out of Grian. “No! Scar, I don’t- we just survived being hunted by a ghost, I’m not pranking you!”

“Well, that’s- that’s amazing!” A grin spreads across Scar’s face- and man, oh man, does he have just the most wonderful smile. “Oh my gosh, G, I don’t- you don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

The relief is almost overwhelming. “Yeah, me too!” Grian laughs, half-dazed and half-giddy, running a hand through his hair. “I- I even- look, the whole reason I even joined this group was as an excuse to hang out with you!”

Scar’s mouth falls open. “No way! That’s- that’s the whole reason I joined in the first place, too!”

Now it’s Grian’s turn to gawk. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not!” Scar insists, “I swear, I’m not- Impulse said he wanted to start the group and maybe we’d all join and get to hang out and I thought ‘hey, ghosts are cool and Grian is cool’ so I just-”

“Oh, I can’t believe this…” Grian groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. “We really are idiots, we’ve wasted nearly three years…”

Scar’s hands close around Grian’s wrists, lightly pulling them down from his face. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he says smoothly, leaning in.

Corny, but Grian will allow it. He closes the gap, tilting his head up to meet Scar’s lips.

In that moment, everything else fades away. All the nervousness, all the second-guessing, even the bombshell discovery of the existence of ghosts- there could be one standing in front of them right now and Grian wouldn’t care. The way Scar gathers Grian in his arms, hands gently roving through his feathers- it’s bliss. It’s perfect.

Scar kisses him strong and purposefully, with no trace of carelessness or haste. He doesn’t rush. There’s intent written into every single movement, jaw working to deepen the kiss. Grian curls against him, hands splayed across Scar’s chest. He can feel Scar’s heart pounding through his flushed skin, and it’s wildly exciting- to think Scar is just as breathless as he is. 

Growing bold, Grian dares to slip his tongue into Scar’s mouth, and the noise he makes- part surprise, part delight- sends pure electricity fizzling up his spine. His mind is starting to drift away from him, lost in the sensation of weightlessness, of floating, that almost makes him feel like he’s gone completely incorporeal- like his own spirit has become untethered from the mortal coil.

Then Skizz’s voice comes down the stairs.

“G-Sharp! Scarface! You down here? We just saw a freaking ghost on the cams, and- oh my god!”

Grian breaks away from Scar, but not quick enough. He turns to see Skizz and Impulse standing at the bottom of the stairs, expressions shocked. And then, as if they’d rehearsed it, they both break into massive shit-eating grins and spin around to high-five each other.

“Woo!” Impulse cheers. “We got ‘em! Ladies and gentlemen, we finally got them.”

“Yeah, baby!” Skizz pumps his fist in the air. “Oh, I love it!”

“Oh, would you two stop it?” Grian huffs, but he’s not really cross. Hard to be cross when he’s on cloud nine. “The ghost did most of the work, alright?”

“That’s right,” Scar sniffs, winding an arm around Grian’s waist. “You know, I- I’m startin’ to think you all were in cahoots! Cahoots, I say!”

“Dude, if only,” Skizz laughs, walking over to clap them on the shoulders. “Could not have planned it better, that’s amazing. Well done, gentlemen!”

“Yeah, it’s about time!” Impulse adds, crossing his arms. “I was starting to think we’d graduate before either of you fessed up, I- I had to take drastic measures…”

“Impulse,” Grian says warningly, “if you’re about to tell me you started this whole paranormal investigation group just as a way to push me and Scar into confronting our feelings, I swear-”

“No, no,” Impulse assures him, chuckling. “I really do like the ghost-hunting deal, don’t worry. But uh, we did deliberately ditch you guys in the hopes that something would happen.”

Scar waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, things happened, alright.”

“Scar!” Grian swats at him, but he’s laughing and it feels good. It feels right. After all this time spent worrying about worst-case scenarios, about denying his feelings for the sake of maintaining the comfortable mundanity of his comfortable life, it turns out the scariest part was the fear itself.

The irony doesn’t escape his notice. A bit on the nose, if he’s honest.

“But in even bigger news,” Impulse graciously continues, “you saw the ghost? And you believed it? You, Mr. Non-Believer in all things ghostly?”

Grian sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…”

“This is incredible!” Skizz claps his hands together. “Okay, okay, we gotta go cleanse the area and I wanna hear everything, got it? Don’t leave a single detail out!”

Grian slips his hand into Scar’s as they follow Impulse and Skizz back up the stairs. “Yeah, alright,” he relents. He supposes he’s due for a lot of ‘I told you so’s’. But really, it’s a small price to pay for the life-altering knowledge that ghosts are real… and for finally finding the courage to believe in something extraordinary.

Scar hums. “Wait, details about the ghost or about the kissing?”

“Scar!”

~*~

[cranberryjuice-posts]

HELLO?? I LOVE YOUR CLARISSE FANFICS I EAT THEM UP EVERY SINGLE TIME!!! ok ok so i was wonderingggg if you could do dior goodjohn x (actor/singer) reader! their in this interview together just the two of them for percy jackson, the interview makes reader uncomfortable and then clarisse is just like protecting reader! then when they get home they get blasted with edits of them but if you don’t do fanfics of the actors that’s totally ok because i have one for clarisse! clarisse la rue x (athena) reader! the reader and clarisse where friends before clarisse got sent to camp haft blood and so like about 3 years later reader gets sent there too, reader doesn’t recognize clarisse before clarisse says this one things that makes reader remember (you can decide on what she says! would be amazing if their could be like a makeout sesh😋😋) TY IF YIU SEE THIS AND YK MAKE THE FSNFICS AHH LOVE YOUR WRITING

You know where to find me — and I know where to look

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! daughter of Athena! Reader

One of your earliest memories was when you were 13. Running around with clarisse in your private catholic boarding school, skipping class and watching as she would constantly get into fights.

You both looked after eachother, clarisses mom was enlisted in the army thus she lived with her grandma who wasn’t the nicest and you.. well your dad seemed to only care about you when he needed something solved.

Forcing clarisse to sit on the schools bathroom sink counter you started to clean a cut on the girls cheek. Not wanting to even think about how you’ll get the blood off her light blue uniform top. “It’s not even my fault!” The young girl yelled. “If Jeremiah thinks ‘slap ass Friday’ is so funny then maybe he should get his ass beat every now and then”

You just nodded following along with what the girl spoke. Moving a frizzy curl out of the girls way you noticed how she scoffed. “I should just cut this off” she grabbed the loose curls shoving them into her messy ponytail. “Don’t do that” you sighed pulling her hands away from her hair. “You Just Need some help to keep your curls nice that’s all”

Clarisses cheeks flushed, she shoved your hands away as she looked to the side. “Whatever”

“Hey!” A teacher aggressively busted into the bathroom. “Skipping class really?! Both of You principal office now!”

Clarisse grabbed your hand pushing past the teacher and down the private schools halls. You laughed as you followed the girl around the school, running down the stairs and past the nuns.

Shoving into a janitors closet and shutting it before the teacher could catch up. You panted while clarisse who Just practically ran a marathon was fine. Turning on the light you plopped down onto a pair of stacked chairs. “How are You able to do that!?”

“Do what?”

“Run like That and not even be tired” you questioned. Clarisse just shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really know I just am I a guess” she sighed sitting on a shelf.

Finally catching your breath you looked over “Hey clarisse?”

The girl set the tool she had been messing with down. “Yeah?”

“Will we always be best friends?” You quietly asked. Paying attention as clarisse had an annoyed look on her face she soon nodded. “Yeah.. cause you’ll always know where to find me”

You rolled your eyes “well I always know where to look” chuckling you reached out with your pinkie. Clarisse followed suit latching here onto yours. You knew what was between you and clarisse was far away from platonic but what did you know you were just some 13 year old kid.

The next morning clarisse was gone. Not a word not a letter nothing.. she had just left

You promised yourself you would never forget her. At first it started with not remembering how she spoke, then you forgot her face, and soon enough even her name you had completely forgotten.

———

Three years later.

After being chased by a hellhound and a few other angry monsters you found yourself at camp halfblood.

The weeks sorta merged together. However once you were claimed by Athena everything seemed to change, new found siblings. People wanting to be your friends and now finally not feeling like you were alone.

Through out your weeks at camp you had heard about a girl named clarisse. The name sounded familiar but you couldn’t place it exactly. The fact the mysterious girl avoided you to didn’t help either.

—

Annabeth Open the door agressivly throwing her dagger onto the bed. “What’s wrong?” You asked looking up from your book. “Nothing nothing.. I just got paired to lead a training class with clarisse”

“And what’s the problem?”

“She’s terrible What do you mean ‘what’s the problem’” your sister scoffed crossing her arms.

“I just meant that clarisse hasn’t done anything to me personally.. I don’t think I’ve even met her before” shaking your head you returned to your book.

Annabeth stayed quiet for a moment before grabbing the boom out of your hand. “Fine then, if you’ve never met her before then you should go lead the class with her.. besides it’ll be good for you”

Begrudgingly you accepted. Leaving your cabin you headed towards the arena, dagger strapped at your thigh.

—

The arena was loud and well… sweaty. Joining the kids who were sparring you made your way to a girl who stood crossed arm wearing Greek armor. “Uh hi? Your clarisse right” You stepped up to her. “I’m annabeths sister she wasn’t feeling well so I’m here to help you uh lead the class”

“You have any experience in battle” she rudely spoke not looking at you. “No b—“

“Then get lost I don’t need any dead weight” she scoffed before turning her attention back to the other campers who were sparring. “Hey! Did I not just say to stop stepping out!!”

You looked at the girl with a irritated face. “I’m not dead weight I can help”

Clarisse grabbed her spear before she harshly turned towards you. Just as she was going to say something she stopped. Looking at you for a second clarisse seemed to calm down. “Y/n?” She quietly asked.

Stepping back some you looked around confused. “Uh yeah.. that’s my name” you nodded awkwardly.

She took her helmet off tossing it aside looking at you excitedly. “It’s me? Remember? no fucking way your a demigod to! I should of guessed you were always the top of our class— gods how have you been”

At this point you were weirded out. “I’m sorry but I don’t know you..” She furrowed her eyebrows slightly fustrated. “What do You mean you don’t know me? We were best friends”

You just shrugged your shoulders apologetically. Clarisse nodded taking a moment to think before grabbing your hand, forcing it into a fist with your pinky sticking out. She linked her pinky with yours and gave you a slightly annoyed look. “You know where to find me”

It took you a few seconds to register what she said. After an uncomfortable amount of silence clarisse sighed, before she could pull away however you tightly linked your pinky with hers “and I know where to look” You smiled “oh my god clarisse!” you laughed hugging the girl tightly.

Some of The campers around stopped what they were doing, shocked at the fact clarisse was being hugged by a pretty girl. Quickly returning to what they were doing after receiving a hateful glare from clarisse.

The strong girl hugged you back tightly, allowing you to pull back you continued to grin. “Look at You! Wow you’ve gotten so pretty, and strong to gods” laughing you reached out to touch the girls face before noticing her hair. “And your hair— see what did I say all you needed to do was learn to take care of it properly”

A familiar rush flooded your body. How clarisses hands were now squeezing your hips with her body close to yours- so close you could smell her pine cologne. Your cheeks turned red once you realized you were playing with the girls hair

Clearing your throat you pulled back completely taking a few steps away from her. “Sorry I just uh.. I got to excited”

Clarisse shook her head “don’t worry about it.. anyways uh if you still wanna help with all this just grab a sword from over there ok”

You smiled in response. It had been years since you felt like that, Clarisse for some reason always made you get flustered… but that didn’t mean anything.

———

Over the next week you found yourself spending every free second with clarisse.

It was like a breath of fresh air. You both had changed a-lot from being 13 to 16 but the same spark was still between you both. You found it amusing how she could go from an Absolute bully to a sweet heart towards you.

What didn’t help was how attractive the girl was. Her muscular arms and face that was meant to wear greek Armor made you go weak in the knees. Being gay was something you came to terms with years ago but finding yourself falling in love with your best-friend was just cringe. Out of all the girls at camp you choose clarisse.. really

——

The best part of camp in your opinion was the bondfire. Being able to sit around a cozy setting with friends and family warmed your heart in more ways than one.

After some time you were approached by a girl named Willow who you later found out was a daughter of Hermes.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like her. She was tall, strong and had a charming face, And she clearly seemed to like you to. “Don’t lie to me pretty girl you’ve seriously never had your first kiss”

Shaking your head you let out a soft laugh. “No never, actually I’ve never had a girlfriend before” Willow scoffed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear she leaned forward some. “Well.. I can offer an easy solution to both those problems— that is if you would like it” she tilted her head some.

Before you could answer however clarisse shoved Willow back from where she was making her almost fall out of her seat. “Clarisse what the fuck!”

“She’s not interested Willow, instead of preying on girls who don’t want you why don’t you go fuck around with one of your ex”

Campers looking over, embarrassed enough as it was you Grabbed clarisses arm pulling her away. Quickly finding the Athena cabin you threw the girl inside. “What was That” you almost yelled.

“What was What” she continued to play innocent, now messing around with you stuff— grabbing s mechanical pencil to mess with. “Stop Just stop! Clarisse a girl was finally showing Interest in me—-“

“Yeah a fuck girl who only wants to finger you then break your heart but god forbid I look out for you right!”

“I don’t care about that! It’s still the matter of fact someone liked me and you just—“

“Did you ever stop to think there might me other girls out there better than Willow who like you!”

At this point you were beyond frustrated. “Gods can You stop interrupting me!” You watched as clarisse awkwardly shifted her stance, now feeling bad you sighed walking over to the girl hugging her. “I know I’m new to this whole demigod life and you have no idea how thankful I am for having you here”

Clarisse squeezed you slightly. After a few moments you laughed. “What did you mean by ‘other girls here like me’ I’ve only been here for what like a month?” Clarisse didn’t respond however her actions told you otherwise. The shifting in her feet, the way her eyes avoided yours, how she held you— fuck clarisse liked you.

Once you realized it the daughter of ares knew you already figured it out. She cursed under her breath for a moment but was soon caught up in the fact you had grabbed her face and kissed her. The kiss only lasted for a second even though it wasn’t that great of a kiss it got the point across. “I like you I like you a lot actually uh clarisse your super cool and sweet and I ju—“ you started to anxiously ramble until she cut you off with yet another kiss this time it being more directed and sweet.

Pulling away you smiled, keeping your lips close to the girls “you know what I love about you.. how you always let me finish my sentences” the opposing girl just rolled her eyes making you laugh once again

———

Once you returned to the campfire you were confused as to why people were making teasing remarks at you and clarisse.. until annabeth pointed out your now messed up hair, flushed cheeks, wrinkled shirt and lastly the growing hickey on your neck.

———

Y/n - you are a sociopath these look like you tried to strangle me

Clarisse - Yeah Well you weren’t complaining when I was leaving them there

—

[imagopirateversion]

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales; Why It Shouldn’t Exist

Or how I invested time and energy into an analysis of a relatively dead franchise instead of doing it for my actual media analysis university course.

An essay by: a bitter and obsessed PotC fan since they were 7, with a lot of free time.

Lads, this is going to be long. You have been warned.

The Beginning

At the very beginning of the movie, we see a young Henry Turner looking for his dad.

Now, we're not talking about characterization problems or how likely it is that a ten-year-old child would risk his life to look for a man he technically only saw once; we're talking about plot problems, actual logical fallacies. My questions are:

How? The Flying Dutchman is a legendary ship, impossible to be found unless She wants to be found. The only reason we see Her in Dead Man's Chest is because Davy Jones himself is looking for Jack to collect his debt, and in that occasion the Dutchman's captain wasn't even doing what he was supposed to do, so he was most definitely in the living world. Will otherwise, he's doing the job Calypso gave him, so he's constantly in between. Is the movie trying to convince me that a kid was able to do something no one in the history of piracy was ever able to do? And even if he did, why hasn't anyone explained me how? He simply looks at a map and throws himself on the bottom of the ocean. How did he know The Dutchman was there? How did he know it would've come to surface?

Where is his mom? We got to know Elizabeth in the first three movies; we know she's a smart woman and we can assume she's an attentive mother. She didn't notice her son preparing himself for a trip in the middle of the ocean to go look for his dad? Was she distracted? Was she outsmarted by a 10ish-year-old? Or is she just not contemplated in this scenario?

Why does Will look like that? Will is doing his job, so... why does he look like he's slowly corrupting? That kind of corruption is the punishment Calypso reserves to The Dutchman's crew when the captain fails her, which isn't the case. Did they forget about it? Was the idea of putting algae on Orlando Bloom's face just impossible to resist to?

Alright, this isn't actually from this movie but it's bothering me, so I have to write it; also, it would make this whole movie unnecessary, so it's somehow related to it. Why (and I can't stress this enough) can't Elizabeth be on the Dutchman? Why can't they do the job together? Is it because she's not a pirate? I'm pretty sure se actually is. Is it because she's a woman? Last time I checked she was the KING. She wants to stay with Will forever, Will wants to stay with her forever, they can literally live forever on the same ship. Why aren't they?

Whatever the Hell Happened to Jack Sparrow

Imagine creating a character that is so iconic whenever you ask a person who was a kid in the early 2000 to imagine a pirate, they imagine said character.

Now imagine fourteen years pass and you decide to ruin that character by making him the most hideous, annoying, idiotic person in the whole saga, and we're talking about a saga that has Philip the Missionary in it. Why? Jack Sparrow is THE anti-hero. Never on the right side, but never on the wrong one. You can tell he's doing something morally questionable, but you still find yourself rooting for him. He's stupid enough to make you laugh, but he's secretly clever enough to always get away with it. Now he's just... drunk. And that's not even an excuse for this horrendous new characterization, because he was always drunk. The guy FORGOT HE WAS ROBBING A BANK, the same guy just one movie earlier was able to escape from the King of England's palace and steal a lady's earring (by pretending to be a literal slut) in the process. He just switched from the iconic drunk bi bestie everyone loves to my cringe uncle that drinks too much at Christmas parties and makes everyone uncomfortable. Please, if the risk is ruining an entire generation's beloved character, either don't make the movie or find a better explanation than "Bad luck dogs you day and night".

The Pearl in The Bottle

So... what you're telling me is that Jack Sparrow, the guy who was able to defeat Hector Barbossa, Davy Jones and Blackbeard thanks to his slyness, and who loves his Black Pearl more than anything else in the world, had said ship in a bottle in his pockets for FIVE YEARS... and he never thought about breaking the bottle to free Her. That's what you're telling me. This is the pivotal point upon which the entire Jack's plot hinges. I... I don't even know what to say. Was this supposed to be funny?

What an Incredibly Lucky Coincidence

A guy needs a treasure to save his father. To find it, he needs the help of a notorious and legendary pirate. He looks for him everywhere, sailing on dozens of ships just so he has the remote chance to stumble across the pirate. The last ship he's been on has sinked, he's the only survivor. He's been found in the middle of the ocean and someone brought him to the nearest city. Which city? I mean, the one that has both the pirate he was looking for and a lady who's the only person in the whole planet who's able to find the treasure he was looking for! And, oh my... he finds the both of them! In that same city! Without even LOOKING FOR THEM! A hell of a coincidence, if you ask me. Also known as lazy writing.

What's Wrong With the Guards?

Now, I know Pirates of the Caribbean isn't exactly known for its accurate historical reconstructions, but why are the guards in this movie acting like they're some sort of hellhounds ready to kill anyone in sight? Even pirates and traitors as Jack and Henry were supposed to stand trial before being sentenced to death. It would've probably been an unjust and barbaric trial, but there should've been one. We literally saw it, in the previous movie. Why's Jack been sentenced to death for simply existing here? He gave pirate vibes and they decided that was enough?

Paul McCartney

This is not an actual point of the analysis, I just wanted to remind people that Paul McCartney is in this movie and that's the only valid reason to watch it.

Salazar

I am confused. Once again, I have questions.

El Matador Del Mar was so good at his job he had almost defeated piracy. "The last ones joined together to try and defeat me". The last what? Pirates? There were no pirates left? This happened when Jack was young, so a lot of time before the first movie, right? Where were, I don't know... Blackbeard? Davy Jones? Barbossa? All the other Pirate Lords? I might be wrong, but I guess Salazar didn't kill them, did he? Why weren't they there during that "last battle" in which "the last ones joined together"?

The Devil's Triangle. I just don't understand what's the logic behind it. So, this is a cursed place. Whoever enters there, can't get out. One would think it means that if you get there, you die; and Salazar does die, but he somehow also becomes a ghost whose only purpose is to find Jack Sparrow and have his revenge. So, do people become ghosts when they get in The Devil's Triangle? We have to assume people have gotten stuck in there before; otherwise, there wouldn't be legends around the place. So why isn't it like full of spirits ready to haunt people? Why are Salazar and his crew the only ones?

Poseidon or Calypso?

What's the Trident of Poseidon? Does Poseidon exist? Isn't Calypso the Goddess of the sea? Breaking the Trident, you break all the curses of the sea, so the Trident must be more powerful than Calypso, which leads to a question. Where is she? She IS the sea, right? So she must have known someone was about to find the Trident and brake all curses, including her one. She just decided it was okay? It really feels like someone decided to suddenly change the world's mythology without giving explanations.

The Compass

This is possibly the most blatant plot hole in the whole saga. Probably the most blatant plot hole I've ever witnessed, and man, I watched all the Harry Potter movies. In Dead Man's Chest, Jack meets Tia Dalma in her "shop" and he tells her he's looking for the Davy Jones' key. She asks him "The compass you bartered from me, it cannot lead you to this?", making another pivotal point of Dead Men Tell No Tales factually senseless.

That man couldn't have given his compass to Jack, because that wasn't his compass.

So either Salazar is lying while telling his tale or they forgot about that line in the second movie. Anyway, let's pretend that line doesn't exist; even if that captain gave Jack his compass in that exact moment, why would it be the key to free Salazar, exactly? How is the compass in any way related to The Devil's Triangle or to Salazar? In the movie, they try to explain it with a sentence: “if you betray it, your greatest fear comes true”. So, is Salazar Jack's greatest fear? I really doesn't seem right, Jack almost didn't remember Salazar when Henry mentioned him. To Jack, he's only a guy he outsmarted decades earlier. Also, Jack technically already gave the compass away, twice: to Elizabeth in Dead Man's Chest, to make her find the chest, and to Beckett in At World's End, when they're negotiating.

That's... That's Just Body Shaming, Mate

Let's talk about her. So, the woman's ugly. It can happen that a woman is ugly. Was it necessary to build an entire scene around some blatant body shaming? This scene wants to mimic the similar scene in Dead Man's Chest: Jack's on an island, running from the main villain, and he's forced to do things he doesn't want to do until someone saves him, then it was Will, now it's Hector.

Except in Dead Man's Chest it was LITERAL CANNIBALISM he was facing, and yet he looked LESS TERRIFIED and DISGUSTED. What's exactly the message here? Lads, is marrying an ugly woman worse than cannibalism? I don't know... that was just bad.

Justice for Hector Barbossa

If you know me (you probably don't, but if you do) then you know about my obsession with Hector Barbossa. I truly believe he's the best written character in the saga, and he's in my top five of the characters I love the most in all media. I watched The Curse of the Black Pearl when I was seven and I am autistic, so I had all the time to develop a literal relationship with these characters in my head. As much as Geoffrey Rush's interpretation was impeccable, as always, it really hurt to watch Hector in this movie. He just doesn't sound like him. First of all, why isn't he on the Queen Anne's Revenge? Why's he letting someone else sail around on his ships? He would've never. Why's he just sitting on a throne and shooting musicians instead of, I don't know... being a pirate? Being a pirate is the only thing that matters to him. He says it at the end of On Stranger Tides, and he even says it in this movie, to the witch. "I'm a pirate. Always will be".

So, why isn't he pirating? What happened to him? And what about the pact with the witch? He made her curse all his enemies; that's honestly the most out-of-character thing he could've done.

Seriously, watch this movie, and then The Curse of the Black Pearl and tell me he sounds like he's the same character. Then there’s his death... was it necessary? And I don't mean if it was necessary to the plot (it wasn't), but the way he died, did it make sense? He takes the sword and sacrifices himself to kill Salazar, but WHY? Salazar was back a mortal. They could've brought him to surface and then shoot him. What was the point of his death, Disney? I will never forgive you.

I would've preferred if they never showed him again. He's alive and living his best life in Tortuga, if you ask me.

How does Carina Smyth exist?

Let's do the maths. Carina Smyth has approximately the same age as Henry Turner, who was born around nine moths after the end of At World's End. At the end of that movie, Barbossa once again stole the Black Pearl (he's iconic we stan a legend), so we have to assume it is during that time (between the At World's End and On Stranger Tides) that he conceives Carina. He stays with this woman during the whole pregnancy, bacause he says he was there when she died. So nine months, at least, right? Except; Jack makes it clear that he and Barbossa met Carina's mom, Margaret, together.

When, exactly, did this happen? It can't be between On Stranger Tides and Dead Men Tell No Tales, because Hector himself says only five years passed between the two, and Carina doesn't look like a five-year-old;

it can't be between At World's End and On Stranger Tides, because we know Jack and Barbossa weren't together, and Hector was too busy losing a leg and planning his revenge by working for the King of England; it can't be during At World's End, because Barbossa was too busy rescuing Jack and then slaying (literally and metaphorically) Beckett's men to save piracy; it can't be during Dead Man's Chest, because he was dead; it can't be during The Curse of the Black Pearl, nor during the ten years before it, because he was... he was a skeleton, I hardly believe he could reproduce, despite what’s written in some fanficions; it can't be before, of course, because Carina would be too old. The only chance, but it's a stretch, is that Hector and Jack met this Margaret Smyth years and years before, and that at a certain point (while he was still busy slaying, losing a leg or planning his revenge), for some reason he decided to come back to her and accidentally had a daughter. That would mean that Jack remembered Margaret Smyth's name DECADES after he met her.

The Post-Credit Scene: What?

WHY'S DAVY JONES BACK? The Trident technically broke all the curses of the sea. He is THE cursed man of the sea. AND HE'S DEAD. The only answer I was able to give me, is that the moment the Trident broke the curses, the curse that said if you stab his heart he dies was also broken, so he technically didn't die, but it makes even less sense, because if the curses just aren't real anymore, then a man shouldn't be able to... carve out his heart and put it in a chest, right? (Which by the way, makes Will Turner being alive senseless as well). Even if so, Davy should've come back as a human.

My conclusion is that this movie should not exist, and we, as a community, should pretend it was never made. Hector is alive. Bye.

Imago

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (11/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, the angst, semi-public intimacy, cockwarming, description of someone being shot, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He got his girlfriend back.

Not quite in the way he had imagined, but the thought of him being her boyfriend and her taking it seriously made him feel a wave of confidence after years of doubt.

It had to do not so much with the fact that he had gained what he wanted, but rather with the idea that although his grandfather had accustomed him to the thought that there was a path for him only by his side, he now knew otherwise.

Criston Cole had been the first person to reveal to him how tense the situation was among their men, how furious they were that Otto had decided out of sheer spite to bet on Aegon, his pawn, putting too much power in his hands.

Aegon's orders and the fact that some of their bodyguards now had to listen to him made them turn to him, looking for another alternative.

He was their alternative and presented them with his plan.

Having known them for so many years, aware of what their strengths and weaknesses were, he assigned them tasks, spreading his net over the city, slowly tightening the noose around all the places that had ever belonged to Larys Strong.

He had promised his Rhaenys that he would never kill or harm anyone again, at least not in the way he had done so far, so he decided to rely on his wits and logic. He offered the old owners to help pay their debts and cooperate with them in exchange for them giving up the clubs without a fight.

Those who did not agree experienced a loud gunfight and a bit of fear: he paid the police in advance to stay out of it, so no police car came to the addresses indicated even when someone called the police station.

His grandfather was furious and that pleased him most of all.

By focusing on the fight with Daemon he had completely let go of the subject of Larys' legacy and had paid the price. He also felt pride, because in a way he had regained what belonged to the father of the woman he loved, so it was also a tribute to her.

She only allowed him to see her once a week, but they wrote to each other constantly: he out of sheer longing, she to make sure he was still alive.

Sitting on the couch in Heavenly Beach, despite his employees sitting around him, partying with the girls who were apparently most attracted to gangsters, he sat with his head in his phone, writing a message to her, feeling like a teenager in high school.

He grinned involuntarily as he read her reply, feeling the thrill as he did every time she teased him.

She was trying to keep him at a distance and push him away, he knew that.

He swallowed hard when, a moment later, his phone vibrated and his eyes were presented with a photograph of her lying on her stomach, on her body only her panties and top, from under which a little fragment of her breast was peeking out, pressed against the sheet, her loose hair spread in disarray, her lips parted in a sweet, dreamy, warm expression.

He stared at the picture for a moment, feeling involuntarily that he grew hot, his manhood swollen in his trousers. He ran his hand over his chin, sinking into the world of his fantasies, having not been able to experience fulfilment with her for weeks despite her allowing him to touch her.

Partly.

"What are you doing, boss? Have some fun with us. Alice is lovely and lonely." Said Allan, embracing one of the girls, pretty and slim, who giggled quietly, looking him boldly straight in the face.

He got up without a word and went out the back exit to smoke a cigarette, dialing her phone number on the way. She didn't answer for a long time, as was her usual habit, but after a while he heard her sigh on the other end, indicating her impatience.

"– I asked you so many times – why are you doing this? –"

"– I wanted to hear your voice –" He hummed, taking a drag, tilting his head back, enjoying this moment.

Silence answered him on the other side.

"– my grandfather is trying to contact me – to make a deal – to make me his successor again – but I don't know if I want it – what do you think? –" He asked, taking a drag again, the tip of his cigarette turning red with a quiet hiss.

He heard her swallow hard, horrified by his words.

"– don't do it – don't go back there –" She whispered.

They were both silent for a long moment.

"– I'm worried about my mother – she's torn between Criston and her father, she's begging me to come back – she and Cole had an affair for many years, even before my father died –" He said indifferently, looking up at the sky, spotting the outline of a crescent moon among the darkness.

"– did you know about this? –" She asked shocked, and he sighed heavily.

"– yes –"

His girlfriend grunted, trying to speak quietly.

"– she's not part of all this – let her stay out of it – your grandfather's reign won't last forever – Otto wants you to worry about such things – he knows you love and care for her – he'll treat her and Helaena as bargaining chips –"

He nodded, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, having exactly the same opinion as her, surprised at how much peace he felt.

She was the only one who could understand him.

She was the only one he could get advice from.

She was the only one he could trust.

"Thank you. Sleep well."

"I'm here for you." She muttered quickly, as if she feared he was about to hang up.

He hummed under his breath, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on the metal basket, feeling the warmth in his heart at her words.

"I know."

The next day, the sight of her in the library filled him with both euphoria and frustration – he knew she wasn't wearing a bra to annoy him, at the same time tempting him when he knew he couldn't take her, and wanting him to know that any other men could look shamelessly at her nipples.

All his anger at her and what she was doing to him vanished when she pulled her shirt off, her half-naked body covered from the others only by a few rows of bookcases.

Thank goodness it was summer and no one went there.

Her nipples were swollen and hard under his tongue, her breast plump and soft between his fingers. The smell of her naked skin, the heat that emanated from her, her hands clenched in his hair, holding him close drove him mad. His groan vibrated through her soft skin as he felt her hips begin to roll deliberately back and forth, rubbing against his throbbing, swollen manhood.

"– fuck, let me – please – just this once –" He mumbled, switching from one of her breasts to the other, slightly larger, which could not be seen at first glance.

The thought of being so close to her and yet not being able to have all of her, like he had then, that night, was driving him crazy.

This was her punishment for what he had done to her.

He sighed as she rose suddenly from her knees, putting her T-shirt over her head, his hand involuntarily going to her calf, wanting to hold her, his body hot with desire, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

Not yet.

Just a moment longer.

"– baby –"

"– next week Professor Addams is organising a private excavations two hours away from our town – it's a site in one of the medieval fortresses of our region, very important and he needs volunteers – I've offered to let you come and to count it as your student practices, so that you would have to make up less of them during the academic year – professor will rent rooms for all of us in a hotel nearby – if you come and do your best, I'll let you sleep with me –" She said lightly, throwing him a calm, expectant look, like a teacher looking at her student.

He swallowed hard and stood up with her, shocked, his length pulsed hard at her words.

I'll let you sleep with me.

"– do you mean it? –" He asked with difficulty, unsure if he could stand it any longer, if he knew whether he could pass the next test she wanted to put before him.

"– yes, but it's two weeks – you'd then either have to give up your job, or drive to do your errands at night and come back in the morning –" She explained as if nothing had ever happened, grabbing her backpack.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her aggressively to himself, making her body slam into his, his heart in his throat.

"– promise me –"

Instead of words, she did what she'd forbidden him to do since they'd started dating: her wonderfully moist, swollen lips pressed against his, and he groaned loudly, shocked. He sighed, pressing her body closer to his as her slick tongue slid between his teeth, licking him invitingly, making his cock swell painfully hard in his trousers.

I'm not going to make it, he thought, I'm just going to rip her panties off and fuck her on the floor.

She, however, pushed him away, looking at him with her mouth wide open, in her eyes pleading, warmth, affection.

Everything he wanted so badly.

"– I'll write you all the details later – take it seriously –" She mumbled out with a pain from which he felt his heart squeeze, not knowing how to act, feeling with desperation that he was unable to wait any longer.

"– I love you –" He muttered, something in her gaze from which he grew hot.

"– I love you too –"

He stared at her like an idiot, feeling like he was running out of breath, because here she was, for the first time responding to his confession, for the first time saying those words.

I love you too.

He felt something inside him break, that if he didn't feel her right away he would just start crying.

"– I need you – please –"

"– be there –" She mumbled and walked out, leaving him alone.

He thought it was pathetic that he was so desperate that he hid his face in his hands and burst out crying.

He longed for her closeness, for her tenderness, and she only gave him moments when he craved hours, days, months.

He thought heaven and earth might collapse, but he had to go to these goddamn excavations, if only to spend two weeks fucking her all night.

"Two weeks? You shouldn't disappear for that long. The situation is precarious." Said Cole, shaking his head, sitting with him over a drink that same evening.

"I'll be available at night, I'll come by a few times to keep an eye on things. It's only a two-hour drive from here. This case is really important to me." He said, and Criston hummed with understanding.

"I'll do my best, but let's keep in touch."

He nodded at his words.

"Call if something happens."

Even the news that perhaps her ex would be part of their escapade couldn't spoil his mood: he wasn't sure he'd been this excited and terrified at the same time since he was a small child.

On the one hand, it was a dream come true for him, on top of it being in her company; on the other, it was a leap into the deep end of the unknown in a group of people who were strangers and who he didn't know if they would accept him.

He couldn't help the fact that he didn't like to talk much, that others' questions made him uncomfortable, that he felt cornered when too many people looked at him at once.

Nevertheless, as soon as he got the message from her that Daemon had been gone for a few hours, waiting a few streets behind the hotel so as not to arouse suspicion, he pulled up in the car park and got out of the car, looking around.

He thought she would be waiting for him, but he couldn't see her anywhere.

This made him do what he hated to do, which was to ask a stranger something.

A couple of students, looking at him with surprise in their eyes, showed him the way, telling him that his girlfriend was in the area where the research was to take place.

Walking there from a distance, he thought with awe that it was a huge project: there was a gigantic stone fortress towering over them, around which he understood there had been many wooden houses in medieval times, of which there was now no trace.

He swallowed hard when he heard her voice from afar and stepped uncertainly into one of the tents, all eyes on him.

He felt warmth in his heart seeing that she smiled at the sight of him, her eyes shining with pure happiness.

She loved him.

Not even the rage at the sight of Robb could take away the satisfaction he felt at what he had done to her, at the ease with which her body had taken him in as soon as the door from their hotel room had closed behind them.

He wasn't sure if his brain was functioning at all during this act, because he was too stunned by pleasure and desire, the simple, primitive thrusting into her again and again with low, pathetic groans of delight.

She was so wonderfully warm, moist and soft, squeezing and enveloping his cock so perfectly, that he felt like crying.

His niece.

That night they made love twice more, completely bare, with no shame or regret, no thoughts of morality or propriety. What he focused on were her moans, her cunt squeezing him in convulsions of pleasure, dripping with her desire, his lips melting with hers in sticky, loud, deep kisses full of their tongues and saliva, their fingers entwined together in a tender embrace over her head.

They fell asleep cuddled into each other like little children, stirring with difficulty on the single, cramped bed exactly as they had then, eight years ago.

He felt, looking at her peaceful face immersed in sleep every time he awoke in the night, that he had regained something.

He had regained her.

In the morning, to their frustration, their alarm clock woke them up. They were both sleepy and half-unconscious when they showered together, soaping each other's bodies and hair, brushing their lips lazily against each other's, running their hands over each other's naked, wet bodies.

There was something wonderfully natural about the way her figure clung to his, seeking refuge in his embrace, his arms pressing her against his body, his hand stroking her hair, her eyes closed in complete peace.

They both felt it.

His niece froze and blinked when she saw him start to dress, putting on exactly the same clothes as usual.

"No. After all, we will be working in sand and dirt. I told you to take something to change into." She said, and he scratched his chin, recognising that perhaps, indeed, his black trousers and Tshirt were not a good idea for such heat.

"I took my tracksuit bottoms and some other old clothes, but I won't look very neat in that." He confessed with embarrassment, rummaging through his bag.

She knelt down beside him, looking through his things together, apparently trying to find something that would be suitable.

"You have to be comfortable first and foremost. And you have to have a baseball cap."

"What?"

"I took one for you. Otherwise you'll get sunstroke."

It occurred to him, when he'd put on everything she'd told him to, that he looked like a drunk from under the shop. He was relieved when it turned out that she herself had dressed in a similar way, a white Tshirt and tracksuit shorts on her body, a baseball cap on her head, her hair tied up in a braid.

If they were going to look like drunks from under the shop, then at least together.

As soon as they reached the tent where they were all supposed to gather it became apparent that if he had come dressed the way he wanted to, he would have made an idiot of himself.

They all looked alike, dressed in bright, light clothes that might as well have been pyjamas. He pressed his lips together, spotting Robb among the other students.

He hoped he had heard her moans as he walked past their room.

How good she felt with him as he took her for himself again and again.

The professor greeted them and assigned them their tasks. To his surprise and relief at the same time, the man divided them into three groups. One was to be led by himself, another by Robb and the third by his girlfriend.

Her words that she was his assistant and how much the professor trusted her were not mere boasts, he thought with admiration.

He had, of course, been assigned to her group and was relieved at the thought that for the rest of his stay he wouldn't have to look at her ex any more than necessary.

His Rhaenys knew most of the people she worked with, who were simply her colleagues from the lower years of their studies. They had specific spaces designated for research and their task for the day was simple: digging.

Of course, the upper layers of the earth were removed by special excavators, but at some point they had to work by hand so as not to destroy any artifacts hidden beneath the surface.

There was something liberating and relaxing about the fact that this activity of driving a shovel deep into the ground and digging a big hole in it didn't require him to think too much.

After a few hours, he already understood why his niece had made him put a baseball cap on his head and why they had each brought a couple of big bottles of water for themselves: sweat was running down his back from the heat and from time to time he had to take a break to drink.

To his relief, even though the people in the group were talking to each other, fooling around and laughing, they didn't drag him into any discussions or distract him from his work. Rhaenys was digging too, approaching each person when they expressed the opinion that they might have come across some historical relic.

After only half an hour, one of the girls stumbled upon a coin from the 19th century.

The real excitement he felt was when his shovel hit something that clanked as if it were made of metal.

"Rhaenys?" He called, and though the people around him didn't know who he meant, his niece walked up to him, cocking her head in curiosity, her face all pink with exertion.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, and he hit the spot he had just dug with his shovel again, intending to make the same sound.

His discovery piqued interest.

He crouched down, letting his girlfriend, more experienced and confident in what she was doing, take the smaller shovel, digging around the object, one of her colleagues took the brush, shaking the dust off its surface.

"It's a German pistol. Second World War. Very good condition." He stated, and his girlfriend nodded.

"Yes, the Germans were in this fortress in the 1940s. Good job, Aemond, secure it and sign it. Give this object a number as I explained to you this morning." She said, patting him on the back, and he nodded.

"Your first find. Feels cool, doesn't it?" Said the boy, whose name he understood was Cregan, but he didn't know what he was supposed to answer him, feeling uncomfortable at the thought that everyone was looking at him.

"Yeah." He muttered, looking down at his knuckles, for some reason losing the confidence he gained at night in clubs when he was about to put a gun to someone's head.

When he wasn't about to hurt or scare someone he was helpless and didn't know how to act.

They had spent the whole day doing manual labour and although his erection had swollen all over feeling her naked body pressed against his under the refreshing shower, he didn't even have the strength to move, let alone fuck her hard.

So he ended up making soft, tender love to her, his hips rocking lazily inside her, sinking again and again into the tightness of her sticky, throbbing cunt.

Her naked back was nestled against his sweaty chest, his face snuggled against the hollow of her neck as his fingers dug deeper into her fleshy folds with her quiver of pleasure, his free hand holding her thigh spread wide, allowing him to reach as deep as possible with the tip of his erection.

"– no – it hurts –" She muttered, and he froze and stopped moving, rising up on his elbow, his breath deep and heavy, his heart pounding fast in his chest.

"– what, baby? –" He whispered, placing a soft, gentle kiss on her cheek, wanting to make amends to her for whatever he had done to her. She turned her face towards him, stroking his bare arm.

"– when you're too deep – it hurts –" She confessed.

"– 'm sorry –" He hummed, their lips joined in a sticky, wet, tender kiss. He ran the tip of his nose over her face, his cock twitching deep inside her while his thumb teased her swollen clit with lazy, circular motions, her body twitching again and again in pleasure.

He swallowed hard as she rose up and slid his erection out of her, thinking with horror that she had had enough of him and intended to sleep separately, she, however, turned to face him. He sighed, surprised, as her fingers gently grasped the base of his manhood, all soaked from her wetness, directing the swollen, pink head of it against her slit.

With a tentative, slow thrust of his hips he opened her on his fat length, sliding into her slick walls with ease, sinking anew into her wonderful warmth that soothed him.

He moaned softly as she threw her arms around his neck, as her bare breasts pressed against his chest, as her puffy, sweet lips joined his in a greedy, deep kiss full of affection and tenderness. He sank his fingers into the soft skin of her back and buttocks, beginning to pound into her anew, feeling her completely differently in this angle.

They began to pant into each other's throats, licking and teasing each other, a wonderful shudder shook his body as her lips traveled lower, to his jaw, to his neck, to his shoulders, kissing and sucking on him, leaving wet, warm marks behind.

"– fuck – ah –" He exhaled, feeling his cock throbbing hard inside her fleshy walls, the wonderful tingling in his lower abdomen and testicles filling his head with utter emptiness, pure desire to fill her with his seed.

Their foreheads pressed against each other and their bodies intertwined in a loving, close embrace as they began to chase their fulfilment, loud, sticky splats building their way to release.

"– u-uncle – 'm close –" She mewled like a child, her sweet, leaking cunt beginning to clench on his cock, sucking it inside her. He kissed her temple, snuggling her into his body, slamming into her with loud grunts of pleasure.

"– me too, baby – my sweet little girl –" He exhaled and threw his head back, feeling a wonderful, overpowering relief, his erection beginning to pulsate deep inside her, filling her with his semen.

She moaned, rising and falling on his quivering erection, reaching her own peak with a innocent, girlish moan of delight, sending him into a state of complete ecstasy. They hugged each other, saying nothing more, not separating their bodies, wanting to remain as they were now, as close as possible.

The presence of her body right beside him, the fact that her sticky pussy was warming his soft manhood, his arms and hands entwined in a tender embrace made him sleep a stony, peaceful sleep, tired and satisfied.

To his relief, Criston had kept him informed of the state of affairs and it appeared that relative calm prevailed apart from a few minor incidents, so his presence on the scene was not necessary for the time being.

He took malicious satisfaction in the moments when his niece would be called by Daemon, wanting to make sure she was okay. She would talk to him on the phone while his hands traveled over her naked body, stroking her thighs, belly and breasts, his lips brushing gently against the skin of her neck, merely teasing her.

She usually tried to pull away from him when his thumb, seemingly by accident, ran over her nipple, when his fingers sank tentatively into her womanhood, leaking all over from her moisture and his spend with which he had filled her moments before.

Although he was a grown man, he felt like he was a child again.

In the days that followed, he felt that he loosened up a bit with the group of people he had to work with – he didn't talk to them and concentrated on his tasks, but it seemed to him that they simply stopped paying attention to him, which suited him. They were not spiteful or unpleasant about it: they apparently recognised that this was his nature and left him alone.

His Rhaenys was a different person at work: she smiled and joked a lot, easily having dozens of conversations with all sorts of people, even those she didn't know, winning their sympathy. He somehow admired how unforced her talkativeness, assertiveness and empathy were, how easily she made difficult decisions when others were panicking.

"– fuck – I think I broke it –" Cregan said, leaning over something that looked from a distance like a vase still half-buried in the ground.

"– call the restorers – get them to secure the cavities so nothing else breaks and they're able to put it back together later –" She said without a trace of annoyance or aggression. The boy nodded in agreement and stepped out of the big, wide hole they were sitting in, doing exactly what she'd told her.

"You're good at this." He stated as they sat alone at breakfast break under one of the trees, looking at the large stone fortress stretching out before their eyes.

Although their group sat elsewhere, she chose to stay with him, as she always did.

He felt an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart at the thought that, as much as he wanted to, he didn't fit in with neither her friends nor the world.

He was a perpetual obstacle to her, a wall between what she deserved and the miserable scraps she suffered in his presence through his vanity.

She looked at him and cocked her head, a wide smile on her face.

She was happy.

"What do you mean?" She asked, in some natural reflex cuddling her face into his, her hand on his shoulder. He kissed the tip of her nose, stroking her skin with his palm, feeling a subconscious surge of desire, as he always did when she showed him tenderness and interest.

"You're made for this job. For being with these people. But you need to sit with me instead." He muttered wearily, looking down at his fingers in shame.

"I don't have to. No one is forcing me to."

"You're afraid that if you leave me, I'll become the way I was. You're paying the price for my satisfaction."

She leaned in, wanting to look at his face, but he closed his eyes, feeling shame and regret, for some reason unable to enjoy it all, to relax, to let go.

"You would want this, wouldn't you? For me to disappoint you. To pack up and go home, to escape what is uncomfortable for you. Loneliness is safe, I know that better than anyone. But if you want to be alone, what are you doing here?" She asked.

He looked at her and shook his head, feeling tears burning under his eyelids.

"I don't know. I feel good and bad at the same time. I'm fulfilling my dream, I have you, but I can't enjoy it all because in the back of my mind I'm wondering if Cole is going to call me at night to tell me all hell has broken loose. It's like what's going on right now is a dream, and I'm aware that I'm going to wake up. As if I have to watch something I know I'll lose one day." He mouthed, bursting out crying, choking on his own tears. He covered his ears with his hands and leaned his head between his knees, panting loudly, feeling like he was just experiencing a panic attack.

"– God, Aemond – calm down – calm down, I'm here – this isn't a dream – my feelings for you – the fact that you're here – it's all real – don't you feel it? –" She asked in a whisper, enclosing him in the warm, safe embrace of her arms, pressing his face between her breasts where he took refuge.

He closed his eyes, concentrating only on her fingers combing through his hair, on her warmth, on her scent, on the softness of her body.

She didn't let go of him for a moment, stroking his head, neck and back, placing a tender kiss on his temple once in a while. Slowly his breathing calmed, the pounding of his heart slowed, and his body relaxed in her soft, caring, loving arms.

She let him settle on her thighs, let him snuggle into her lap: she stroked him like a small child, saying nothing, letting him just be, drawing on her closeness, her understanding, her wisdom and kindness.

He thought that if he could die now, in her embrace, he would be happy.

Her words and closeness gave him comfort and for that afternoon, looking at her from afar, sitting on the sand, he thought he was truly happy.

Truly at peace.

And then he saw five missed calls from Cole and one message from him.

"I'll go with you." She said, watching as he changed into his normal clothes.

"No fucking way." He growled, looking at her with impatience, wanting her to get the idea out of her head.

"I'll be waiting for you in the car. Don't leave me alone." She begged.

"No. I'll be back before dawn. I promise." He said, kissing her forehead quickly and left, feeling that if he looked at her again, he wouldn't be able to drive there.

Some part of him dreaded going back there, as if being in the light for so long would blind him to the point where he wouldn't be able to see anything in the dark.

Late in the evening, he arrived at Heavenly Beach and went inside, asking one of the bodyguards what had happened. The man nodded towards one of the lodges – his brother was spread out in the company of three girls enjoying himself at his best, buying everyone a round of shots.

"He didn't pay for anything, boss. He says you're the one paying for the booze and the whores tonight."

He moved towards him feeling his jaw clench in rage, the loud music around him ringing in his ears, the twinkling lights around him making him feel like he was about to vomit.

Aegon spotted him and stood up from the couch, pointing at him with his hand.

"Here is my brother. To him you owe such a great party tonight, applause for him!" He called out, the drunken part of the club guests echoed him in euphoria, but the rest were silent, looking at them with concern.

"I think my brother drank too much." He said coldly, towering over him after a moment, looking at him with a dispassionate gaze. "And he doesn't know that he's going to pay for what he ordered and the women he brought with him himself."

"And where's your woman? Hm? Our pretty niece. Did you know, guys, that he kissed her when they were kids? He was already fucked up then." Aegon sneered, taking a loud sip of whisky from his glass, embracing one of his women, a pretty, blue-eyed blonde with his arm.

His men looked at each other in dismay, apart from the background music all around them complete silence.

"Get up, take your whores and get out of my club. Now." He said in a voice that didn't bear objecting, but Aegon only laughed and sighed.

"You know what the worst part is? He's still fucking her. My father was lying dead and he was in the next room banging that poor girl. Tell us, did you rape her? You surely did, she would never want you of her own free will. But in what position? Missionary? No, no, I know! In doggy-style, like a hound. You have always been faithful like a dog. Woof, woof!" He scoffed, and something snapped inside him.

His brother froze, looking at him with big eyes as he pointed his gun straight at his forehead, the girls around him squealed in terror and broke out of his embrace, moving as far away from them as they could.

"– wow, wow, wow – calm down, have you completely lost your fucking mind? –" Aegon asked in a trembling voice, raising his hands in a gesture of submission, and for some reason he grinned broadly.

"– I didn't rape her – she wanted it – we did it a few more times after that – she was always good to me, unlike you – we're together now, you know? –" He hummed, cocking his head with an expression of satisfaction on his face, thinking in the back of his mind that this was who he just was, who he wanted to become.

He felt powerful, strong, invincible.

"– what the fuck are you talking about? –" Aegon muttered, shaking his head as if he thought his younger brother had simply gone mad.

He, however, had never felt his mind so sharp and focused before.

"– our grandfather made you his successor to reason with me – before our father died he said he would pass everything on to me and that was his original plan – but after Larys put the rape pill in her drink, I couldn't let him live – I don't expect you to understand that though – loyalty, devotion, affection – look at you – you must have pissed your pants with fear, am I wrong? – stand up, show yourself to everyone –" He sneered, raising his voice defiantly so that everyone could hear him.

There was complete silence all around them.

"– I said stand up –" He growled seeing that his brother was looking at him with big eyes red from tears, his mouth quivering in horror and humiliation.

Yes, he thought.

Feel what I felt.

He, completely naked then, standing up to his waist in water, his face all swollen from tears.

"– it's an unpleasant feeling, hm? – humiliation –" He said, watching as Aegon stood up slowly, the large, dark stain on his light-coloured trousers suggesting he was right.

He grinned at him and thought that such a lesson would be enough for him, lowering his gun, but his brother threw himself at him, climbing onto the table, wanting to get him with his own hands, and in a subconscious, involuntary reflex he fired.

His brother gasped heavily, as if surprised, and grabbed himself by the stomach, falling backwards onto the couch, another dark spot forming where he pressed his hand.

"– you fucking shot me –" He mumbled out, and he shook his head, feeling his whole body freeze, people around him screaming and running away, his and Aegon's bodyguards starting to shoot at each other, causing a general panic.

Cole grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him towards the side exit, saying loudly that they should call an ambulance.

He saw her sweet face, felt the embrace of her warm arms, her moist lips placing tender kisses on his face.

He thought that if Aegon died, she would never forgive him.

He promised her that whatever happened, he wouldn't be a murderer.

"– this son of a bitch has to survive – do you understand? –" He said and turned, running up the stairs, several of his bodyguards moving towards his brother, trying to stop the bleeding.

Criston nodded and pulled out his phone to make a call to the hospital.

By the time he walked him to his car the ambulance was on its way.

"– get out of here – hide somewhere – you shot him low in the stomach – I think he'll make it – I'll let you know when I find out something –"

He nodded and sit inside the car, hearing the gunshots again – Criston fell to the ground and hid under one of the trucks while he started to back up and with a squeal of tyres drove ahead.

Only now, heading ahead through streets full of lamplight did he wonder what he had actually done.

He had shot his brother.

He told him their secret.

Everyone heard it, Daemon would find out, and she would be in danger.

He swallowed hard, running his hand over his face, thinking that he just wanted Aegon to feel what he had felt for so many years, that he wanted to teach him a lesson, show him who was in charge, who was better, smarter, cleverer.

Who was the better son, the better brother, the better lover, the better man.

But for the first time he asked himself, was he really better than him?

He was just as scared, just as helpless, just as small.

He had nearly killed his older brother.

That thought, and the realisation that Aegon really might not have made it, caused him to burst into a loud, hysterical sob, and cover his mouth with his hand, trying to silence the sound that was coming from it.

As he drove ahead all he could feel was fear, fear of her gaze, her disgust, her rejection.

Why would she want to be at the side of someone like him?

When he arrived it was almost morning, dozens of missed calls from her and messages asking if and when he would be back were evidence that she had been up all night.

Before he walked into their room, he stood outside the door for a moment, wondering how he was supposed to explain this to her, what to say so she wouldn't tell him to pack up and get out of her life.

He had ruined everything.

When he opened the door he had the feeling that his whole body was quivering, stiff and tense: her gaze, her eyes and cheeks were red from tears, her eyebrows arched in pain told him that she was convinced that he had left her, that he had deceived her, that he had used her again.

She rose and wanted to throw herself into his arms, but he spoke up faster, not wanting to deceive her.

"I shot Aegon."

She stopped in her half-step, looking at him in disbelief, her expression seeming as if she hadn't understood what he'd said.

"What?"

He drew in a loud breath, feeling that he was a little boy again, a terrified child who had broken a very expensive, valuable vase and had to explain why it had happened.

"He was fucking mocking me. He implied that I raped you. In my own club. In front of my men." He muttered as if it changed anything, realising how pathetic he sounded.

The thought that he had lost everything again, that there was no way she could forgive him made him hide his face in his hands and just weep.

All he wanted was for her to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright, that she knew he had hurt and abused him all his life, that she had witnessed it herself.

That she understood that something had simply snapped inside him.

"Is he...is he dead?"

He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself, his breath heavy and hitched in panic, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"I don't know. I shot him in the stomach and he's in hospital. He threw himself at me and scared me and I just fired. He saw I had a fucking gun in my hand!" He exclaimed as if he was ten years old and had just told his mum why his brother was lying unconscious on the floor after their fight.

"So you didn't kill him, did you? You didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. He scared you and you fired, but if he hadn't, you wouldn't have shot him." She said slowly in a trembling, terrified voice, and he lowered his hands, looking at her with big eyes, thinking that some part of him wanted to kill him then.

And then he remembered that after he felt that justice had been done, his hand with the gun lowered.

"– I – I just wanted him to stop laughing – he asked if I acted like a dog when I raped you – and I – God, baby, I told him about us in front of everyone – that we are together –" He mouthed, shaking his head, feeling completely naked, her expression of sadness and disappointment made him just sit on the bed, hide his face in his hands and cry, cry, cry.

"– I didn't mean it – I didn't know what to do – he wanted to humiliate me – me and you by spreading such rumours – I decided it was better to tell the truth than – I don't know – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled, himself not knowing where he was going with this thought, feeling a huge, cold emptiness.

He tensed all over hearing her footsteps, lifting his gaze to her, thinking for some reason that she was going to slap him.

She, however, knelt between his thighs, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"– it would have come out eventually anyway – Aemond, I need to know what is going on inside your mind – if you –"

She asked, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone. He took it quickly out of his pocket seeing that his mother was calling him and swallowed hard feeling that he couldn't do it.

"– pick up – you have to do it, maybe she knows if Aegon is alive –"

But what if his brother was dead?

If he killed him with his own hands?

"– I can't – I don't want to –"

"– Aemond – prove to me who you are – take responsibility –"

He covered his face with his hand as he answered and put his phone to his ear.

"– is he alive? –" He muttered.

"– thank God yes – Aemond –" Alicent said, but he didn't let her finish, afraid of what she wanted to tell him.

That he had already been disgusting as a child and was a disgusting man now too.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Mum, it was an accident, I swear – he was drunk and he threw himself at me seeing that I had a gun in my hand and I just –"

"– I know – Aegon told me everything – he admitted he provoked you – but I don't understand how you could have let this happen – you are brothers – you almost killed each other for what? – for a few bags of drugs, thick files of money? –" She asked, and he closed his eyes, warm tears one after another flowing down his cheeks.

"– he said I raped her –"

Alicent was silent for a moment.

"– where are you now? – come to the hospital – apologise to each other, explain everything, start all over again –" His mother pleaded, but he wasn't sure if there was anything left that they could fix.

"– I don't know if I want to see him ever again, Mum – I want to rest – let him know I hope he recovers quickly and that I'm sorry –" He muttered and hung up, feeling he had nothing more to say to her.

His niece looked at him in pain, her hands on his thighs as she knelt between his legs.

If Alys had been sitting in her place, all he would have thought about was putting his cock down her throat, but in her case, there was something in her expression that made him crave something completely different, but equally intense.

"– please, embrace me –" He mumbled out, before hot tears again ran down his face one by one, his sobs so pitiful that she stood up quickly, frightened, and let their silhouettes fall together on the bed.

It wasn't until her arms hugged him into her chest, when his hands closed on her back, that he felt his whole body trembling.

"– close your eyes – breathe –" She whispered, pressing her cheek to the top of his head, her fingers combing lazily through his short hair.

He did as she said and tried to focus only on the air he was letting in and out of his mouth, all around them the quiet singing of birds amid the rising sun.

"– don't leave me –" He muttered, snuggling tighter into her warm, familiar body, her wonderful scent filling his entire lungs.

He heard her sigh softly, her hand stroked his back reassuringly.

"– I know how much you are suffering – I am here – you are safe now –" She said, and he felt his heart stop for a moment.

I know how much you are suffering.

I am here.

You are safe now.

He had longed to hear this from his mother, his father, his brother, from her for so many years that when it finally happened his body just froze.

"– I love you –" He whispered, however differently than usual, feeling like he was suffocating. "– God, I love you so much –"

His niece texted her friend that she and him had poisoned themselves with something and that they would come to work later, wanting him to take at least a little nap, knowing that he would fall into despair if she left him alone even for a moment.

He fell asleep only when he unbuttoned her shirt and cuddled his face between her bare, plump breasts, the warmth and softness of her naked body, her long fingers running over his head soothed him.

Despite what he feared, she understood him.

It's always been this way.

When she woke him, telling him she had to go, he begged her to just let him stay as he was, her skin warm and drenched with her scent, his body pressed against hers in a natural, vulnerable embrace.

"– I have to – I should have been there hours ago – but you stay, get some sleep –" She whispered, stroking his head. His eyebrows arched in pain as he shook his head at her words, roaming his hands over her body in a gesture of desperation, trying to stop her.

"– no – no –"

"– Aemond – please –" She said in pain, pressing him against her again hearing his heavy, loud breath, tears squeezing into his eyes.

She sighed.

"– come with me then –"

And he did, because he didn't want to be alone.

When they went outside for the first time she took his hand in hers, exactly like when they were little children playing on the beach. He tried to control himself, but the squeeze in his throat was proof that he wanted to cry again.

He was so exhausted.

"– don't work today – sit under the tree – I'll be next to you –" She said when they got there, but he shook his head and squeezed her fingers tighter between his own.

She looked at him with a gaze in which he saw everything – worry, affection, concern, sadness, understanding, desire. He felt his heart grow hot as his free hand rose to her face, running gently over her jawline, and she nuzzled her cheek into it, closing her eyes.

He leaned in and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing he'd ever done – her lips welcomed him with gentleness and tenderness, parting before his tongue, letting him slide it lazily inside. Her fingers stroked his neck as they clung to each other, sunk only in that sweet, sticky pleasure, humming contentedly, not caring if anyone saw it.

And then he heard it.

The screech of tyres.

By the time he heard her squeal and turned to see what was happening Daemon was already standing in front of him, his fist hit him in the face so hard that he fell to the ground, losing his hearing for a moment.

"– STOP IT –" He heard her scream as her step-father turned him onto his back, punching him with his fist again, again and again, warm liquid trickled from his nose, but he did not resist.

"– I promised you this –" He hissed with rage. "– I promised you that if you didn't leave her alone, I would kill you with my own hands –"

"– DAD, STOP – STOP, STOP, STOP –" She whimpered, trying to pull him away, several people interrupted their work, wanting to see what was happening, looking at this scene in disbelief.

Finally, professor Addams and Robb came out of the tent, hearing loud screams outside.

"– what is the meaning of this? – stop immediately, that's my student! –" The professor shouted. Daemon laughed and stood up from his knees, pointing his finger at her.

"– and that's my daughter and I'm taking her home –"

"– no –"

Daemon looked at her in a way that made her tremble with fear, his jaw clenched as tightly as if it was about to burst.

"– with you I will speak later –" He growled.

"– I won't go with you –"

Daemon wanted to grab her arm, and in a natural reaction he wanted to get up and protect her, however he was preceded by Robb, standing between her and her father.

"– she said no – she's an adult – should I call the police? – he can sue you for assault, you know that? –" He asked, a long, heavy silence fell around them.

He stood up, looking at him, then at her, Daemon's gaze fixed on her face.

"– if you don't come back with me, I can no longer protect you – you will break your mother's heart –" He said coldly, his words intended only for her.

He looked at her in horror, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

Her gaze when her eyes finally turned towards him was full of fear that because of him she would lose her future, her family, her peace of mind and everything she had before he stormed into her life again.

"– you promised me –" He muttered in a trembling voice, looking only at her, the only person who could give him what he desired.

She had promised him that if he tried, if he came here, if he changed, they would spend two weeks together.

"– I did –" She whispered and he felt his heart stop, convinced that this was it.

Their end.

"– let's get back to work –" She said and turned as if nothing had happened, heading towards one of the tents, startling him and everyone around him.

"– come here, I said! –" Growled Daemon, wanting to lunge at her and take her home by force, but Robb blocked his way again.

"– enough – one more step and I'll really call the police –" He threatened, her step-father's gaze shifting to his face after a moment.

He turned away, angry and pale, his hands clenched into fists as he got into his car and drove off with a loud screech.

Feeling his heart pounding like mad and not wanting to be left alone with Robb, he moved after her, adrenaline pulsing hard through his veins.

She had sacrificed herself for him.

Her family, her home.

Just for him.

When he stepped inside he wanted to embrace her, but she shook her head.

"Sit down. I'll get you some ice. Your cheek is all swollen." She said calmly, taking a few cubes out of the fridge and it was only then that he saw how much her hands were trembling.

"– baby – come here –" He whispered, gently placing his hand on the back of her head, and although she resisted for a moment, she finally allowed him to put his arms around her and cuddle her into him.

Her body was shaking.

"– I know, baby – it was very scary – I'm here –" He hummed tenderly, stroking her hair and back, his face pressed against the hollow of her neck.

"– I don't think I have anywhere to go back to –" She mumbled out with difficulty, heartbroken, and burst out into a quiet, exasperated cry.

He swallowed hard, hugging her tighter to him, coming up with an idea he knew their family would definitely not like.

"– you will live with me –"

[writella]

More Negan x reader pllsss😔😔😔

pls the emojis are sending me hahahah! let me know how you like it!

Thinking of Negan who daydreams about the reader who always has the cutest outfits when she comes to visit— ♡

cw: negan x fem!reader, smut— masturbation (m) and descriptive allusions to sexual situations, very desperate and depraved Negan because he is in jail, and reader being cute and nice and just too irresistible :) + I wrote this with a little bit of Negan’s crude humor in mind. wc: 2.1k. slightly proofread.

Negan never thought he would stoop so low.

Not like some 20 year old guy living in his mom’s basement; the type he’d talk shit to then completely demolish on a game; one who drinks monsters and watches porn on the daily back in the old B.W. (Before Walkers— for those of you who are uncultured) era.

That was beneath him.

If he needed it, there was his wife of course, or some chic he could hook up with at the bar, but— let’s not remind him of that. That is a wound that needs no further reopening. He was ashamed of it and everything else he’s done enough as it is. Not to mention, it sure doesn’t help that he was reminded of every single heinous act he has ever committed in the A.W. years by the grand total 5 patrons that have visited his cell every- single-god-damn- day.

But now, there was a new thing to cause him great shame.

A girl.

You.

You who gives him his meals on Fridays—Gabriel’s day off. You who just can’t help but stay 5, 10, sometimes even 30 minutes after you give him his food because he always makes you laugh. You, one of the town’s gardeners, who throws in fresh strawberries during breakfast and an extra cob of corn during dinner when you know you shouldn’t. You who didn’t eat your cookie from Carol’s monthly batch she brought from the Kingdom because you gave it to him instead. You with your three sets of overalls and far too many sundresses, yet you only had one sunhat, one pair of gardening gloves, and one pair of waterproof boots.

You were way too generous with him and a little too passionate about your clothing to the point he thinks you must forget you’re living in the zombie apocalypse, but you were skilled, kind-hearted, and you liked to smile; you actually had conversations with him instead of that kumbaya shit Gabriel’s always on; and he’d be damned say you weren’t really pretty. Because you are. You’re real fuckin’ pretty.

And Negan was obsessed.

He thought about you constantly.

Like how he knew you must have always picked off the strawberries stems for him before you put them on his plate. And how he definitely knew you must have offered to give him his lunch and dinners on Fridays: He remembers that Gabriel told him that this would only be a morning thing, that the council advised him to have one day off because he was a new father. But, as dutiful as he is (and as weary as he was to bring someone else around Negan), he agreed only to breakfast. That way, he could sleep in, eat with Rosita and the kids, and not feel like he completely burdened someone else with a responsibility that was only meant to be his. Negan figured you were just that kind, that you must have been the one to offer up your Friday mornings to Gabriel. How you must have been the one to ask to come back two more times throughout the day, you must have. For Gabriel, of course, to help. But maybe you just liked him. He liked imagining that. In fact, he believed it.

He also liked to imagine that maybe you were dressing up for him. He sure loved your little outfits. Your overalls were your work clothes but still, you always looked so darn cute, always finding small ways to accessorize or make it feel more like your personality. It was all so innocent really, but he couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy— how pretty and oblivious you were to how you looked, how your clothes fit you. He often daydreamed of fucking you in every single one.

The first, the overalls you wore most often for work, was full length and completely baggy on you— he figured it must have been for a man. It was old, the hem was fraying in some areas, and it did nothing for your figure really but it was soft, durable, had many pockets and you typically put scraps of ribbon or lace you found on the straps, right on the shoulder. And his favorite part, you were often wearing a crop top with it. He could always see the side of your breast, your waist, sometimes even a tiny bit more depending on how you turned. Sometimes he thought of you in that tight little floral tank of yours. How one day maybe he’d tell you to, “take it off,” and you’d obediently drop the overalls to the floor; or maybe it would be you, while you’re on your way out: you turn around, gathering up enough courage after all this time to look him in the eye as you take off your boots and unclip the straps and let the denim fall, leaving you in only that tank and your panties. He imagines how you’d push yourself into the corner where the door was, look out the small window to see if anyone was coming, and then you’d face him again, keeping eye contact as you slipped your fingers inside your underwear and started to rub your clit, fast. Wordlessly, his jumpsuit would come off too and his hand would go straight to pumping his cock. Mesmerized by the sight of you being so unlike yourself because you wanted him just that bad, so bad neither you, nor he, could speak. Only pants and moans and grunts and “fucks,” to be heard in the room.

The second and the third was an overall dress and one with shorts. The first time you wore the dress, he remembers it was a Friday that a lot of people had left town. Unfortunately a kid got lost so many people went out to search with the family. Thankfully for Negan though, this included Gabriel, Michonne, and the two other people who tended towards Negan. Gabriel had assigned you to keep a closer watch on him that day, that the days like this where the regular schedule is thrown off is the time he might try something— Gabriel is still angry at himself for the time Negan escaped— so you took it upon yourself to bring an activity: cards. After you won a second time, Negan had playfully thrown his cards on the floor, two of them slipping past the bars and past you. You had turned to see where they went and reached forward on your knees, arm extending to get them. You weren’t directly turned but Negan sure did take the small chance he got to move more towards his right and catch a closer glimpse of your exposed thighs and color of your underwear. After you left that day he imagined that right at that moment he grabs you by the hips, pushed your ass up against the bars and pushed your panties down so he could slide into you, fucking you through the bars as much as he could, probably giving the bottom of your ass red marks every time he bangs into you against the steel.

With the shorts, he thought of scenarios more or less the same as with your full length ones. The difference is that your ass looked great in those shorts and sometimes he imagined you pushing your back against the cell bars so he could push his front against it, giving him some friction. Him telling you that it’s been years, but you’re shy and scared and you don’t want to get caught so you just do that, allow him to rub against you as you look out the window to make sure no one is coming. He imagines that you can't help but start sighing, squeezing your thighs together, moaning when he wraps his arms around your waist through the bars. One hand snaking up to grope your breast while the other cups your mound over your overalls and you rock into his hand as he presses in on you hard. You almost lose your breath, taking a sharp inhale that freezes to a halt. Finally, you'd whisper, “That feels so good,” followed by a whine. And he’d respond to you in your ear, “I know, baby.” A big wet spot is slowly appearing on your jeans and you’re not even looking out the window, your eyes are rolling back until they closed and you’re just making these tiny pathetic sounds because you can’t believe how incredible his touch is, even when you’re given so little, and how bad you’ve wanted him even though you’ve tried to deny it. “No one else makes me feel like this,” you’d tell him, to which he repeats, deep, dark, and sultry as he kisses the back of your head, “I know, baby. I know.”

Lastly, there were those sundresses. Sometimes he’d see you in them when you brought him dinner. If you could, you would freshen up before your own dinner because you got off from work early and didn’t want to be in your work clothes anymore or maybe you were having dinner with friends or Gabriel and Rosita— he often treated you because of your care for Negan on Fridays. Most people liked to pretend Negan doesn't exist, or unsolicitedly proclaimed to you and Gabriel with disgust how they would never dare go anywhere near the jailhouse, that you two must be saints, so he finds what you’re doing to be a big sacrifice. Therefore, he often invites you for meals and he and Rosita are either on the look out or ask savangers to bring back any dresses in your size. But it was a time that Negan least expected to see you that he saw you in what became his favorite dress.

It was on a Wednesday. Certainly after 12am or close to it. People were asleep, but you were sneaking towards his cell. Apparently someone from work had ground some chocolate from her wife that worked as a savager. She gave you a few pieces but you never ate them and forgot about them until you were doing some late night cleaning on your day off, so you came to treat Negan. The dress you were wearing was the tiniest thing he’d seen you in. As in, it could have been a mid-length dress on Judith. It was a deep pink color, almost purple, with small flowers in a different shade of the same family all around it. It had these very short, very slightly puffed sleeves. He could tell that it was a dress that flowed out, but that didn’t stop the material from showing your curves. He knew for a fact that if you bent over you would be giving anyone behind you a show, but honestly with how much your legs were exposed, you walking around in that must have been enough to make anyone’s head turn. Immediately he started thinking about him outside of this cell, as your man, seeing you strut around town in it, how he’d push you to the side behind a house, ask you if you wore it for him, if you were trying to make him jealous, and then fuck you hard. Then he remembers that you’re offering him chocolate, and saying that you know you shouldn’t be here, so he saves those thoughts for after you leave. You start tugging on your dress, trying to make it longer and he thanks you. Truly, that was your house dress. It was always a little snug on the top so you could never wear a bra with it regardless and you had accidently washed in your sink with hot water— you had a knack for not reading clothing labels— and it shrank. You only remember how short it is now after not wearing it outside for so long and seeing how Negan’s eyes widened at you as you came in. Did you do it on purpose? you both now question. You decide it doesn’t matter, telling yourself you were just doing something nice and you run off to bed quickly. As for him, he cares as much as he doesn’t: of course he wants you to like him and he still has a big ego enough to assume you do, especially after tonight, but most importantly you just gave him more fuel for his imagination while he’s stuck here which is enough for now.

After fucking himself when you left, he still woke up rock hard the next morning. Waking up late, he had to act quick before Gabriel came with his breakfast. He used one of his favorite methods of pushing his bed to the side, and placing himself in the darkest corner of his cell, his figure facing the wall. He’d take himself out and as always, start to pump. He places his hand on the wall for leverage and he pretends he’s fucking you against the wall. He imagines that one night you say you can’t sleep and ask if you can sleep with him in his bed. How he would be such a gentleman and say that a lady wasn’t good enough to sleep in his crappy cell, but that instead he knew another way to tire you out. One the two of you could do fast so you wouldn’t get caught. That one always got him to his climax so fast— the thought of you needing him so much that you would come inside his cell, stay on his bed until morning, get in trouble for him. It would make him come like a bullet, hard and fast.

Safe to say, Negan loves Fridays.